#we also are likely distantly related just because of the nature of my last name

[ladyofpembroke]

So strange! I got an email addressed to me about an interview for job title that i had applied for but I’m confused because it’s for a different city/company that I had applied for, but it was in the city that i just moved from and loved. So I’m trying to figure out if it’s a scam or if my dad applied for me. It doesn’t seem like a scam, the woman who emailed me exists and my dad said he didn’t apply for me.

And then I remembered. So I have a common first name but pretty rare last name so there’s a only a few people with the same name as me so I’m vaguely aware of them, just from googling myself and finding them. And I remembered that there was another [first name last name] that had lived in the same city as me, was around the same age. And sure enough I found her LinkedIn and she had the qualifications for the position and had the same title at a previous job. So I emailed back saying, hi wrong person/email here’s the LinkedIn of the person I think you’re trying to reach.

But it’s just so strange because we have the same name, are about the same age, had lived in the same city, had been applying to jobs with the same title, she had gone to a university that I did a summer program at (at the time I got the username lastname1 or lastname2 so I knew there was someone with the same last name but not that she had the exact same name). Like it’s just so weird, it seems like we’re living parallel lives.

[notalwaysright]

Getting A Crappy Education

https://notalwaysright.com/?p=259071 At the place where I went to elementary school, third grade was the first time in which we had more than one teacher; in previous grades, one teacher handled every subject. Starting in third grade, we had a homeroom teacher who would teach math, reading, and science, and at some point during the day, we would walk across the hall to a different teacher who would teach social studies. Once again, this was the first time any of us had a social studies class. I did not know this at the time, but [Homeroom Teacher] is actually distantly related to my family. On the first day of school, we went to [Homeroom Teacher]’s class first, and she got up and gave a big speech about how we would all get along great and how all her former students loved her. Then, she had us all link arms and sing “We Are Family,” which I thought was a little odd but seemed like a good sign. Things also seemed pretty normal in [Social Studies Teacher]’s class, though I was pretty bored by it because it was really basic stuff I already knew, like defining what a culture is. The next day, however, was when the proverbial you-know-what hit the fan. It is rather embarrassing to admit, but in elementary school, I had problems controlling my bowels. It eventually turned out that a stomach bug was going around, but my problems were worse and lasted longer than my classmates’, so I think it may have been an underlying problem, perhaps exacerbated by the stomach illness. Thankfully, I have long since overcome those problems. But back at the time when these events were happening, my mother eventually started sending me to school with a clean set of underwear in a Ziploc bag in case I had any “accidents.” In the middle of our math class that day, I felt nature’s call coming on, so I raised my hand and asked [Homeroom Teacher] for permission to use the restroom. I distinctly remember her giving entirely unambiguous permission, which is important for what comes next. I, unfortunately, did not make it to the bathroom in time and had to change into the clean undies, putting the soiled underwear in the Ziploc bag and wrapping that in a plastic grocery bag to keep it from grossing people out. I walked back to my homeroom classroom and tried to get in, but the door was locked. I knocked on the door, but there was no response. I thought my teacher probably didn’t hear me, so I knocked louder. I saw through the window as [Homeroom Teacher] looked up from her lectern where she was teaching, made eye contact with me, and continued teaching. I started hysterically pounding on the door, and eventually, she walked over, opened the door, and said: Homeroom Teacher: “You disrupted my class when you left without permission, so I will NEVER, EVER LET YOU BACK IN MY CLASS AGAIN!” Then, she slammed the door, leaving me sobbing in the hall with a bag of poopy underwear in my hands. [Social Studies Teacher], who was not having class then, came out to see what all the noise was about. I tearfully told her what happened, and she scolded me for being disruptive but allowed me to sit in her classroom so I wouldn’t have to sit on the floor. She went out in the hall to discuss it with [Homeroom Teacher]. I didn’t catch what they said, but after what felt like an hour — but was probably just a few minutes — I was allowed back into my homeroom class. I know we did not have lockers in elementary school, but I don’t remember if we had cubbies in the classroom after kindergarten or not. In any case, I disposed of the bag of dirty undies either in my cubby or under my desk; I kind of think it was the latter. After a few minutes, [Homeroom Teacher] swooped down on me in full fury and told me she was taking me to the principal to get paddled because I had dirty underwear. She marched me down to the office. Homeroom Teacher: “I want to see the principal. [My Name] needs to be paddled.” Receptionist: “For what reason?” [Homeroom Teacher] looked around conspiratorially and then stage-whispered: Homeroom Teacher: “Some of the other students said he smelled funky.” Receptionist: “Er, I’m sorry, but the principal is not here today.” And that was the end of it, or so I thought. Nevertheless, the next day, my social studies class was interrupted by a furious custodian bursting in and demanding to see me by name. I had no clue what he was talking about, but I had to follow him. It turned out that he had found a large pile of human feces on the floor of the boys’ bathroom, and [Homeroom Teacher] had “helpfully” informed him that she knew for a fact that I was responsible. I tried explaining to him that I was innocent, but he ignored me and kept screaming about how he worked hard to keep the bathrooms clean and kids like me made his job harder because we had no respect for him. I was less firm in defending my own innocence than I might have been otherwise because he was starting to plant seeds of doubt in my mind. I had, in fact, done number two in that bathroom this morning around the time he said it must have happened, so could I have somehow gone on the floor without noticing? But that became a ridiculous notion once we finally got to the bathroom and he forced me to gaze upon the turd in all its disgustingness. It was probably the size of my head; surely there was no way I could have produced that without knowing it. Most disgustingly of all, there was a prominent sneaker print right on top of the pile. In a moment of dubious intelligence, I compared the tread on the bottom of my shoes to that on the shoe print, as though no one but the perpetrator could have left the mark. This logical fallacy was enough for the janitor to believe I was innocent, though, and he let me go. If it was enough for the janitor, unfortunately, it was not enough for [Homeroom Teacher]. As soon as my class returned to her room, she lit into me about it and dragged me along with her to find “proof.” We went to the bathroom, where she accosted a random teacher who happened to be taking her students on a potty break. Homeroom Teacher: “Did any of your students use the bathroom this morning?” Teacher #2: “No.” Homeroom Teacher: “Did you see [My Name] head toward the bathroom today?” Teacher #2: “Well, yes.” Homeroom Teacher: “See! That proves it! We’re going to the office!” She dragged me to the office and it was the same story as last time. She demanded I be paddled, and the receptionist said we had just missed the principal. I couldn’t believe my luck, but years later, I realized the principal very likely was in, but the receptionist could plainly see [Homeroom Teacher] was off her rocker and so lied about the principal to protect me. At some point later in the week, [Homeroom Teacher] came to pick up my class from art class. Someone mentioned that they had heard that the janitors discovered feces on the floor of the girls’ bathroom that morning as they were opening up the school. Homeroom Teacher: “It was him! [My Name] did it! I know he did!” I was left wondering how in the world she thought I managed to break into the school in the middle of the night to defecate on the floor, not to mention why. I was out sick with the previously mentioned stomach bug for a full week, and when I returned to school, I met several of my classmates in the hall on the way to class. I encountered each of them separately, and each time they walked away without responding to me. Classmate #1: “Hey, [My Name], why’d you turn evil?” Me: “What?” Classmate #2: “[My Name]! Good kid gone bad!” Me: “What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything bad.” And so it continued, all the way to my homeroom class. I eventually learned that [Homeroom Teacher] had spent the entire week I was absent preaching to the class how evil I was. My mother was livid when she heard about all this, and she came to school to speak to [Homeroom Teacher] about it several times. Every time, though, [Homeroom Teacher] would just continue cleaning her classroom or whatever chores she was doing that day, not acknowledging my mom at all. When she saw my teacher wasn’t going to change, my mom told the principal about it, and they finally settled on having me moved up a grade to get away from [Homeroom Teacher]. I left third grade just before we were about to study multiplication, so I had a lot of catching up to do in fourth grade, but I managed to succeed anyway. Additionally, the entire rest of the time I was in elementary school, I had to use the staff bathroom instead of the student bathroom so that it would be clear I was not responsible for any floor defecation which appeared. There were no more attacks of the phantom pooper. Some relatives from [Homeroom Teacher]’s side of the family told us that [Homeroom Teacher] had something serious wrong mentally, but no one in the family seemed to even consider helping her get treatment. Apparently, she singled out one student every year to terrorize as she did to me. As far as I know, she never received any reprimand and is still teaching third grade, though at a different school now since all the elementary schools in my hometown merged and switched around teachers when I was in fifth grade. Also, as far as I know, the mystery of the poop appearing on the floor after closing time was never solved; my money is on [Homeroom Teacher]. Source: https://notalwaysright.com/?p=259071

[5uptic]

crewfu: fanfic spotlight :)

Angel of Life, Bringer of Death by woofles1990 (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 377 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: Steve and Dk just wanted to explore a dungeon. That's all they wanted! A certain angel clearly had other plans.

flashover by Anonymous (Apollo & 5up, teen rating, gen | 853 words)

Summary: n. the moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you've built up through decades of friction with the world. OR: it's pretty stupid to sleep on the tiles of a subway station, even though you are well aware you have a home. It's also quite embarrassing to have a friend pick you up from there.

Sparks Fly by Rocketro (5up/Fundy, gen rating, m/m | 863 words)

Summary: 5up and Fundy watch fireworks together.

you're holding back (shut up and dance with me) by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: 5up and steve dance.

what happens in Vegas by aphilologicalbatman (Apollo/Steve, explicit rating, m/m | 1.4k words)

Summary: "I'm pretty sure this is a bad idea, Steve." "Nah, this is a great idea, dude." (Or: the one where they hook up in Vegas.)

quiet when i'm coming home by homeward_bound (5up/Hafu/David, teen rating, gen & multi | 1.4k words)

Summary: 5up comes home from LA.

i could peel it for you by sweetlikesugr (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: One appletini at a time, 5up ponders about oranges, buttons and celestial bodies.

from blossoms by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: “O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach. There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.” -Li-Young Lee, From Blossoms

you think that i'm foolish now by amsves (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.1k words)

Summary: “Is everything okay?” That’s a stupid question and Steve knows it. If everything was okay, Five wouldn’t be randomly appearing at his hotel room at—Steve checks his phone—2:37 in the morning. Their group had split up for the night a few hours ago, uncharacteristically early for them, but Five had had plans to talk to—

Like you wouldn't notice by Anonymous (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.1k words)

Summary: Apollo is having feelings, so he pushes them down and hopes Steve doesn't notice. Avoiding Steve was never going to end well. "From that moment on, Apollo becomes hyper-aware of all things Steve. The way his long leg touches his, hip-to-knee, in the bar booth when they're drinking overpriced cocktails."

Vegas Lights by amethystvxidwalker (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.3k words)

Summary: “You were planning on actually swimming with me, right?” Steve faced him, brown eyes and dopey grin almost making Five swoon. He forced himself to focus on Steve’s face rather than the black ink above his hip, small, blocky text that read ‘SUGR?’ because of course it did.

ice-cream-covered screaming hyperactive thought by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: Apollo isn’t sure when, exactly, he fell in love with Steve. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks, he never really fell. Maybe, he’s been falling. He’s still falling.

u spilled orange on u by SmearedWords (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.1k words)

Summary: Five times Dumbdog thinks Steve is illegally attractive and the one time he tries to admit that to him. Keyword: tries.

My love is the evening breeze touching your skin by tumtummeke (Apollo & Steve, general rating, gen | 5.2k words)

Summary: Steve's love language is physical touch. Dumbdog's is... not that. A day at the beach with Steve and Dumbdog (and background crewfu), told in five touches.

be like the love that discovered sin by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 5.6k words)

Summary: It’s annoying because Apollo even left for work a whole hour early today, which should be enough time to get to his shitty office job like everyone else on the train, but unlike everyone else, Apollo also has a second job. Which leads to the last reason why Apollo is having a bad day: being pinned under an overturned car while a villain monologues at him. Well, that last reason isn’t really part of Apollo’s bad day, but sue him if he wants to include the misfortunes of his hero identity Dumbdog while listing the reasons for his bad mood. “I don’t have time for this, Suptic,” Apollo grits out, interrupting the villain’s monologue.

friends in this town by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 6.1k words)

Summary: Five only realizes he’s bitten his nails down to the quick when the sting of pain catches up to him. He’s probably overthinking. He just needs to talk to Hafu. That’s all. ...He doesn’t want to. He’s worried he will only hear an answer he’ll hate. Out back, putting off talking to his sister really gives Five a sense of deja vu. All he needs to complete the feeling is Steve. “You need to relax, man.” Speak of the devil.

this party's just another haunted house by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 7.7k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: On December 31st, Apollo wakes up in his hotel in Vegas. The problem is, it's always December 31st.

call me by your name (i don't know that's pretty gay) by Qupid (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 10k words)

Summary: “Oh!” The human suddenly exclaimed, “You probably want my name!” Five had no interest in holding the power of a name over a human, it always seemed more trouble than it was worth, “Not particu-” “I’m Steve! It’s a pleasure to meet someone as cute as you.” The human, Steve, interrupted before 5up could finish. 5up’s eyes widened as he felt the power of gaining a name rush through him.  It was intoxicating and he could see why some fae would frequently come to the human realm just to trick humans into giving up their names. Five hadn’t needed to trick Steve, the man had given up his name freely and Five couldn’t believe how goddamn stupid he was to do it. “Ohhhh my god you’re an idiot.”

you'll hear me howling outside your door by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 22.2k words)

Summary: Something warm blew against Steve’s face and, distantly, he heard a high pitched whine. A nudge, and when Steve ignored it, a more insistent push had him opening his eyes to the face of a wolf mere inches from his own. Steve laughed. How delightful!  He was hallucinating animals now. The wolf’s fur looked bright to him, but even with as dark as it was Steve could tell it wasn’t white. Maybe it was more of a sandy color. Not that it mattered when all Steve could focus on was its piercing gaze and how its eyes seemed to bore into his soul. The wolf whined again and nudged Steve in the shoulder with its nose, making the man rear back when he realized that this might actually be a real wolf and not a hallucination at all.

kinda good for my love by sweetlikesugr (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 44.7k words, chaptered)

Summary: 5up can’t really recall the exact moment when dares became his and Steve’s thing and he is not sure if he even wants to try - after all, why would you mess with something that feels so natural, that feels so right? Why not just let it take its course and see where it might lead them?

Also: mangoedges‘s 5up the human impostor collection!

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s)], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k], [added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji… you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed.

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

[aliwritesfic]

So since you did the cutest job with my mini golf ask…wondering what the TF boys would be like while tie dying with Frankie and his daughter?! I’m attempting to do that tomorrow with my son lol. Please and thank you if you’d like to explore the idea. 🥰😘

First of all, I am SO SORRY this took so long, I've been so busy with uni and forcing myself to actually do the work this semester (who would've thought I could actually apply myself) but I really enjoyed this, and it's actually made me want to go out and do some tie-dying of my own.

Anyways, here's Tie-Dye Tueaday

W/C: 1.6k

T-Minus 5 Hours Until Disaster

“Daddy?” a soft voice rose Frankie out of his fitful sleep. He distantly felt a tiny, warm hand rest on his cheek.

“Yes, cricket?” he mumbled voice heavy with sleep, struggling to open his heavy eyes. He had stayed up until the small hours of the morning frantically researching for the day, watching YouTube videos, making notes, doing whatever he could to prepare.

“Mommy’s going and said I should wake you up,” Everly pulled herself up onto the bed and sat down directly on Frankie’s bladder. He winced and pushed her off gently, wondering just how she always managed to find the worst spot to sit.

“Have you had breakfast?” Frankie asked, and Everly nodded. He said a silent thanks to his ever-amazing wife, who would be spending the day getting massages and facials and whatever else her heart desired before pushing out twins in less than two months’ time. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that – there would be two more tiny humans in his life soon. The thought left him exhilarated and riddled with anxiety all at once.

Frankie carried Everly downstairs on his back, grabbing his cap from the dresser on his way. The boys would be here soon – they had agreed that tie dying alone with a hyper four year old was a terrible idea, so they were coming to dye something of their own and help Frankie keep a handle on things. Benny was especially excited to dye his shorts to wear to his next fight.

They were halfway through Coco, Everly’s favourite movie, when the front door opened and in came his three best friends, men he had no relation to but considered brothers. Everly went straight to Benny, who was undoubtedly her favourite of them. Frankie had his suspicion that is was because Benny loaded her up on sugar whenever he could. Sure enough, Frankie could see a packet of candy in the plastic bag Benny carried.

“You ready for this?” Will asked, placing a six pack in the fridge. Frankie sighed and nodded.

“Ready as I can be. It can’t go too badly, right?”

~

T-Minus 3 Hours Until Disaster

The sun was bright and hot on their backs as they set up. Everly sat in the shade of the oak tree, a cup of lemonade in one hand, and her favourite doll in the other. Frankie had forbidden her from coming out in the sun until the sunscreen was fully absorbed, which according to his watch wouldn’t be for another few minutes. It occurred to him that since becoming a father, his mind was filled with worries that he never even considered beforehand.

Frankie had brought dyes in every colour he could, several plastic tubs had been fished out of storage and so many ties that he was sure he would be finding them all around the yard for weeks to come.

“Whatta ya dying, Ev?” Santi called to Everly.

“Purple!” She responded, holding up a pristine white pair of cotton shorts and a shirt.

“Just purple?” Will asked.

“And pink and blue and green!” Everly jumped up, setting her cup down carefully and ran over. “I want it swirly. You should be rainbow wiggles.” She told her father seriously. Will grinned.

“She’s a natural born leader,” he said with more than a touch of pride.

“Just like her mother,” Frankie replied. He took the clothes that Everly held out and began to scrunch and fold them according to the instructions he had written down while watching YouTube last night. The whole thing seemed a lot easier when he was watching through a screen.

Everly chose her dyes as Frankie folded, occasionally handing a certain colour to one of the boys, telling them that they hadto use it. None of them wanted to defy the four year old, so each accepted his colours without protest. Benny seemed quite thrilled when he was given a colour labelled Hot Barbie Pink.

“So many guys will be so fuckin’ embarrassed to get their ass beat by a guy in pink shorts,” Benny grinned.

“Language, Ben!” Frankie darted a frantic look towards Everly, who stood with a cunning smile on her face. Frankie knew that she knew exactly what she wasn’t supposed to say.

“Fuck! Ass!” she declared. Will snorted and Santi had to turn away, face turning bright red from holding in laughter.

Frankie gaped, lost for words for a moment. “Everly, don’t ever say that, but especially the first one, and especially not in front of mommy, okay?”

“Why not?”

Frankie shot a look to Benny, who at least looked a tiny bit sorry. “They’re big people words. Each time you say one your . . . hair gets less curly.”

Everly, who loved her curly hair, looked stricken. Frankie felt bad about lying to his kid, but not as bad as he would’ve felt if his wife came home to a child cussing like she had just strolled out of the military.

The words seemed forgotten as the dye was applied. Everly was surprisingly artful in the way she applied the dye, carefully creating patterns that didn’t make much sense to Frankie but must have made sense to her.

T-Minus 30 Minutes Until Disaster

The group of them sat around the dining room table, beers for the boys and juice for Everly. Most of them had small flecks of multi-coloured dye on their hands, but Frankie was sure they would come off easity. Everly had scoffed down her lunch, and now sat staring outside, looking antsy.

“Go play if you want to,” Frankie said, “you don’t have to sit here.” Frankie was confident there wasn’t anything in the backyard that could pose a danger to her, and besides, he had a view of almost the whole yard from the table.

Everly tore off like a hurricane, juice forgotten as she ran outside, doll in hand.

“If the twins are anything like her . . .” Santi began, taking a sip of his drink. “Fish, you’re gonna have your hands full.”

“If they’re anything like Ev, they’ll be great kids,” Benny said. Will rose his beer bottle. ‘But yeah, you’re definitely gonna have your hands full.”

“Amen, I’ll drink to that,” he said. Frankie nodded and had a sip himself. They talked for a while about football, Benny’s next fight, Santi’s new flame.

Then a thought occurred to Frankie.

“Is it quiet out there?” he craned his neck to investigate the yard and saw . . . nothing. Frankie shot up from his seat, panic rising in his chest. “Everly?” He almost tripped over himself in his haste to get to the backyard. Every worst case scenario was forming in his head.

“Ev?” Benny was beside him in an instant.

“Daddy?” Everly wandered out from behind the tree, and Frankie took a deep breath, calming himself. She was unscathed . . . except for the dye that now stained her arms, legs, face, hair. She was grinning widely, and held up her doll, who was also covered in a rainbow of dye.

“Cricket, what did you do?” Frankie gaped, wondering just how she managed to get almost every inch of exposed skin in such a short amount of time.

“Miss Mildew wanted her hair to be pretty,” Everly explained.

“Your dolls name is Miss Mildew?” Santi asked, red in the face with held back laughter. Everly nodded proudly. She had heard the word on television one night and latched onto it.

“What do you think is worse,” Will murmured to Benny, “Ev swearing, or Ev covered in dye?”

“Swearing,” Benny said snickering, “you can wash out the dye, you can’t unlearn a word.”

“What word?” Everly asked. Ears of a hawk, Frankie thought.

“The word you’re not allowed to say,” Will said.

“And what word would that be?” A smooth voice behind them almost made Frankie jump out of his skin. His wife, beautiful and terrifying all at once, stood on the patio, one hand on her stomach, the other on her hip.

“Fuck!” Everly declared loudly and proudly.

“Teaching my child new words, I see, Benjamin.”

Benny to his credit, at least looked more apologetic than he did with Frankie.

Frankie’s wife waddled down into the yard and set her gaze on her husband. “That dye won’t make her sick will it?”

“No, no, not at all,” he said. He had specifically brought kid friendly, skin safe, non-toxic dye.

“Good. Then I’m gonna go lie down and try and forget my four-year-old just said the eff-word and is every colour under the sun.” His wife shook her head and rolled her eyes at Benny. Once she was inside, Frankie turned to Everly.

“C’mon, we gotta clean you up,” he reached to pick Everly up who shook her head.

“We gotta see what they look like first!” she said. Frankie considered her point and nodded.

“Alright, cricket,” he said. They unravelled the clothes to a chorus of oohs and aahs, Everly clapped her green hands together as her multi-coloured shorts and top were revealed.

Benny sheepishly wandered over to Frankie as he put everything in the washing machine. “Hey man, I really am sorry about that.”

Frankie shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Just buy the missus as much caffeine as she wants when she’s done breastfeeding and she’ll forget all about it.”

“I hope so. Her bad side is not a place I wanna be.”

Frankie laughed and scooped up Everly in his arms. Her curls were streaked with blue and her cheeks were magenta. “Trust me, she won’t stay mad for long. I don’t think she’s that mad to be honest.”

“You don’t?” Benny sounded unsure.

“Well she didn’t yell, and it looked like she was trying not to laugh. All things considered, I think today was a success story.”

Tagging @sharkbait77 because I think you’d enjoy this

[avatraang]

Summary: “Hey,” Sokka’s voice is soft. “Come with me. I’ve missed you.”

Distantly, Toph supposes that even the earth moves unsteadily at times; after all, isn’t that how earthquakes are caused?

Notes: This idea has been in my head for literal years. there's a lot of swearing in this story, because you can't tell me Toph wouldn't swear. it takes place over a number of decades. it touches briefly on the comics and on LOK, but not so heavily that you have to have read them or seen the series to understand what's happening. This is a slightly Alternate Universe to that of the comics and of the LOK series. It is a part of my "To Transcend Lifetimes" series, but is not heavily related to the other works in this series. Oh, and also: I know NOTHING about fortune telling. I apologize in advance if I fucked it up royally.

Preview:

Toph doesn’t really bat an eye when she gets a letter from a small Earth village in the middle of bumbafuck. Her secretary reads it to her and she shrugs it off; it gets thrown on her dining room table most unceremoniously. She spends the rest of the week doing what she usually does: focusing on her school and being a little too bored. To be grounded is in her nature, but Toph also has a strange tendency to get restless. Her body starts to twitch and her spirit grows bored. Nothing good has ever come from a bored Toph.

It’s a very un-Earthbender like personality trait; in fact, Zuko once dumbly commented on how it was almost an Air Nomad quality. Aang had agreed. They both got a rock to the shin for that, as well as a stern, “Don’t compare me to Twinkle Toes and his girly methods!”

But, sucky as it was, Toph had to admit, Zuko had a point. She tried to break out of the habit, tried to be grounded like her ancestors were, like her people had a tendency to be. Yet she has always been the type to crave adventure, to crave something new.

Still. She’s stubborn. That is an Earth Native trait. So the letter sits, unanswered on her dining room table. It’s the end of the week before it’s noticed again. This time instead of the slender, white hands of her apprentice, it is touched by working hands. They are calloused, rough, scarred. And dark. She doesn’t know what dark looks like, but she does know that he’s it.

His visit comes as a surprise; yet it’s change, so she welcomes him openly. Sokka’s footsteps are a little more tired than they were during his last encounter with his best friend, and from what she can tell, he’s taller. He’s lost some weight. But that’s the extent of the differences. At least, from what she can sense.

Yet she knows it is him before he’s even knocked on the door.

She acts on impulse; she can’t help it. When it comes to Sokka, Toph has always been hard pressed to control her actions. She sprints through her house, narrowly avoiding running into people or knocking things over. “Sifu Toph!” One of them cries out, dancing around her as she teeters plates in her hands. Toph bends a seat behind her, catching the girl just as she falls.

“Watch where you’re going!” Toph calls over her shoulder, but it’s well natured. The girl only rolls her eyes (something Toph can’t see, but wouldn’t be surprised to hear). Screeching to a halt at the door, Toph throws it open most unceremoniously, revealing Sokka standing there, hand poised to knock on her door. “Sokka!” She grins at him, “what are you doing here?”

He blinks twice, then drops his hand. If Katara or Aang were here, they might have exchanged a hug, but with just them, they simply stare at each other instead, grinning from ear to ear. It’s strange, two best friends who don’t touch each other like that unless other people are around. She wonders what Katara would think. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I would recognize your clumsy ass footsteps anywhere.”

“It’s good to hear you’re obsessed with me, even after all these years.” He teases her, expecting full-well to get punched in the arm. She doesn’t disappoint. Allowing him inside, she falls silent, waiting for Sokka to answer her.

He stretches as they breeze past servants, heading for her dining room, where lunch is soon to be served. Today is a resting day, hence why she’s not working her students to a pulp. Whether Sokka knew this, or it had just been luck, is something Toph is unsure of. “Do you know of a village named Makapu?”

There’s a faraway ringing of familiarization in the back of Toph’s mind, but nothing comes to the forefront. “Nah. Why?”

Sokka’s eyebrows curl together. “That’s weird. You should have gotten a letter. No wonder you missed your train.”

Toph settles down at the table. “Huh?”

“We waited for you this whole week and you never showed, so I grabbed Appa and dipped to get you.”

Now Toph is thoroughly confused. “What the fuck are you talking about? Who’s we? And I never sensed Appa.”

Sokka rolls his eyes. “That’s because there was no room for him to land in this crowded almost-city of yours. He’s on the outskirts, with Zuko.”

“Sparky?!”

“Spirits, I can’t believe you didn’t get that letter.” Sokka sits down next to her and pinches his nose. Peering at her messy table, he begins to idly sort through her mail until he sees a letter in familiar wording. “What the fuck,” Sokka says, tone accusatory, “you lied to me! You did get it! You even opened it!”

“Hell no I didn’t,” Toph denies. “I would’ve remembered a letter with your names in it.”

“Madame Bei Fong,” Sokka reads, “The people of Makapu Village hereby formally invite you to...” he trails off. “These dumbasses. They didn’t mention us, or the train already booked for you.”

“Sokka.”

“What?”

“What the hell are you talking about.”

“Katara, Aang, Zuko, and I were on our way to get you so we could go to Ba Sing Sei.”

“As planned.”

“Yeah.” Sokka nods, “anyways. We stopped in Makapu, a place where Katara and Aang and I had stopped a long time ago, before you and Zuko. We – er, well, Aang – saved the place from a volcanic eruption. Since we were there, we figured we might as well fortify their protection, and we called on you for help. But you never answered, so Zuko and I came to get you.”

“I see.” Toph tilts her head, considering. Leaving now would leave no one in charge of her students; it would break her out of her routine. Already, with the upcoming trip to Ba Sing Sei, she’d prepared meticulously. The sudden change would overthrow all her old preparations.

Next to her, Toph can sense Sokka staring at her. His breathing is even; he’s leaning towards her, expectant. She wonders, not for the first time, what her best friend looks like.

To be steady, or to veer off course.

To veer off course, or to be steady.

“Hey,” Sokka’s voice is soft. “Come with me. I’ve missed you.”

Fuck.

She swallows, hiding her face from him.

Distantly, Toph supposes that even the earth moves unsteadily at times; after all, isn’t that how earthquakes are caused?

“Let me get my stuff,” she grumbles, and the whoop of happiness Sokka lets out makes it all worth it. 

Click Here to Keep Reading.

[ts-unsolved]

Final Wrap-up for Chapter One

((since chapter one will be coming to a close shortly and there is still an assortment of questions left over, here is a masterpost of responses to queries that couldn’t be addressed during the story! 

[reminder: the ask box will be left open, however the characters are not available. please keep in mind that non-plot related questions will not be answered by the characters after this post.]

Anonymous said: ((Just wanted to tell you your drawings are so pretty and I love ur blog. That is all I have no braincells to ask questions))

Anonymous said: OKAY MOD I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW I LOVE THIS AU SO MUCH AND ITS SO COOL AND GOOD AND YOUR ART IS TOO!! sorry for caps I’m just excited

Thank you! Sorry I didn’t always get around to answering asks like this, but for every one that was sent in, I appreciated it with all my heart. You guys are angels 💖

Anonymous said: What is one haunted location you guys would really like to visit someday?

Poveglia is definitely the highest on the list for the notoriety alone, although they would likely never get the permission to go (the history in general is almost excessively horrible and tragic, so nothing good would come out of doing an episode there. Maybe it’d be good as a final-chapter type location? 🤔).

@anxious-fander-bean​ said: Hey Logan, have you ever tried swing dancing? It's really fun and good excersize! There's also a lot of bouncing and upbeat music, so Patton might enjoy it as well! ((I'm doing it. I need the qpp boys to be happy and have fun, bc they deserve it.))

(LOGAN: I’ll...consider it.)

You did it, you got them to go on some good ol’ platonic dates! B)

Anonymous said: I feel bad that I don't have any deep question or something along those lines, but what's your favorite thing to bake, Pat? - 💐

That’s alright! Questions don’t have to be deep to be fun/interesting. 

(PATTON: Cupcakes! You can make so many different flavors, and there are tons of fun ways to decorate them!)

@why-should-i-tell-youu2 said: Why cant anyone else see the seal?

You need to have The Sight to be able to see demon sigils. Patton has this ability naturally, and Dee has it because Elliott taught it to him. Otherwise, Virgil and Roman would be the closest in terms of gaining this ability, but a scared/skeptical part of them is holding them back. 

Anonymous said: My good dorks, is there a way to, I don’t know, get a better/more effective charm for your office? One that costs more than $10? -🍁

Anonymous said: Hey, Logan, potential naturalistic explanation for ya: depending on what the charm was made of, shifts in ambient room temperature could have caused minuscule expansions and contractions in the material that would eventually crack the charm. Do I believe my own explanation? Absolutely not. Am I grasping at straws for a non-supernatural explanation? Absolutely. And ambient room temperature doesn’t even begin to explain the red symbol around the charm

(LOGAN: Our budgeting is already a mess as it is, the last thing we need is to waste more funds on decorations. And that theory seems much more reasonable than the contrary explanation.)

Anonymous said: Is the demon that Pavreen summoned the same demon that possessed Elliott?

Anonymous said: Welp Virge SUMMONED A DEMON- (Why do I have a feeling Remy was the demon that possessed Elliot-)

Nope, they’re all different demons! The demon that Parveen summoned is notoriously difficult to contact, so a bunch of teenagers wouldn’t have been able to do it. Likewise for Remy; you can only summon him once you have his True Name, and he’s already destroyed most references to that (sorry Patton).

Anonymous said: omg omg omg what part of mythology is remy part of???

He’s not from any particular mythology, but he is partly based off of Alps from German folklore and the general mythology around sleep paralysis!

Anonymous said: Can Patton see supernatural beings like ghosts and demons and stuff? I just think it would be interesting if his scars make him able to see them :3c

Anonymous said: If both Dee and Patton can see the sigil, and Dee can see ghosts, does that mean Pat can see ghosts too? With the whole red glowing thing (forgot what its called) it seems to be connected.

Yes he can see ghosts/demons, and you’re right that the scars (or rather the deal with the demon which gave him his powers and scars) are what lead to him being able to do it. The red is just a general indicator of something supernatural/not of our Realm.

Anonymous said: Wait so if Patton and his family all have that mark could that mean Patton is not completely human 👀 -🌈

I supposed you could say that Patton’s not entirely human because he’s a witch who was born without a soul, but he’d find that pretty offensive tbh.

Anonymous said: Are Elliott and Patton maybe related, even distantly? Also, roman needs to suck it up and have Feelings for the Snake Man

There’s no relation between Elliott and Patton. Elliott is the child of a seer and a psychic, Patton is the son of witches. They’re similar, but different. (Also you’re assuming that Roman hasn’t liked the Snake Man since high school, but considered him off-limits because he’s his brother’s best friend).

Anonymous said: Does Patton know that Dee can see spirits and does Dee know that Patton is protecting them all?

Anonymous said: Dee, pat, do you know that each other can see the sigil? 

Anonymous said: is ... is patton a witch and dee a dee-mon and that's why they don't like each other.....?

Anonymous said: Pat what do you think about making deals with demons?

They’re both aware of each other’s secrets! Technically they’re both doing their best to protect everyone, but that doesn’t mean they agree with each other’s methods or bond over the shared responsibility. 

Patton is indeed a witch, and Dee is a regular human who happened to summon a demon one time. Patton thinks Dee is the occult equivalent of a satanist, which he disagrees with because dark magic is unnatural/dangerous in his eyes (making deals with demons only leads to trouble!), and would prefer Dee not endanger his friends. Dee doesn’t like Patton because of his perceived moral superiority, and finds the way he can be so secretive and two-faced creepy 

Regardless, they’re both sitting in glass houses and have more in common than they think.

Anonymous said: Patton Should Hug Dee *

Maybe. But he won’t. 8′D

Anonymous said: Since Dee has been able to see ghosts for a long time, was he an open believer in ghosts before Elliot died? Since it was mentioned that the reason he lies about his belief is because he knows that they're dangerous, he wouldn't have had a reason to hide it in the past. And if he did are any of the others aware of the belief change? Well, besides Remus. I'm guessing that one is pretty obvious.

He may have been more involved as a believer in the past, though that doesn’t mean he was ever super open about it. He was aware of how it would look like to outsiders (being genuinely skeptical at one point himself), so he wasn’t going to paint a target on his back by talking about ghosts and demons and things most people can’t see.

Of course, that didn’t stop people from stereotyping and making those sorts of assumptions about their friend group anyway, but no one besides them really knew about their secret-- not even Virgil.

Anonymous asked: What would happen if one time, the gang ended up getting something supernatural on camera?

The result of that would depend on the being. Ghosts can kinda appear on camera, although it’s very rare for them to appear as a full bodied apparition, which is why they usually only manifest in spirit orbs or light/shadows. Poltergeists are better since they’re able to interact with objects, but likewise since they can’t manifest into a physical form they can easily be brushed off. Demons and other miscellaneous creatures will straight up not appear if captured directly on film; you’ll simply get video glitches and distortions.  

So essentially, they may technically have found something already, but capturing evidence that’s also compelling is a lot more difficult than you’d think. I imagine there’s a good chance that anything legitimate wouldn’t get taken too seriously because of how easy it is to fake evidence nowadays.

Anonymous said: Okay so a little bit of a rant but not really ig but imagine the ladylike and unsolved crossover for this AU like I can see it as like Thomas' friends dressing up Roman and Dee in style and seeing a blushing mess and maybe flirting going on because of how good the clothing complements each other but this is kinda a weak idea lol

It’s not a weak idea at it, it’s really cute! (though I may just have a soft spot for the Ladylike cast and crossovers). 

The only thing to note is that I’ve chosen not to include Thomas’ friends in this AU because I personally weird about writing fiction about real people? (I was on the fence about including character!Thomas for a while too, tbh). So, apologies to anyone who’s sent similar asks or wanted to see any of Thomas’ friends; they wont be around!

Anonymous said: Did Dee and Remus ever have that talk Dee said he would try to have a while back????

They might have gotten the opportunity to chat back when Remus came back to help shoot the Room 1046 video. It wouldn’t have been a complete reconciliation by any means (dealing with years of baggage in one sitting is Hard), but now Remus is aware that Dee is open to discuss things again at some point in the future, so progress!

Anonymous said: wait wHAT?! When did he (Emile Picani) die?? Give us the deets oh wise one

Anonymous said: emile is... dead? what happened?

I see y’all, but unfortunately you’re not getting any answers from me just yet! You’ll have to wait until the next chapter~.

Anonymous said: Shit is about to go down and I am worried about the next ghost "adventure"

:) Don’t Worry About It.))

[terramythos]

TerraMythos' 2020 Reading Challenge - Book 34 of 26

Title: The Harbors of the Sun (2017) (The Books of the Raksura #5)

Author: Martha Wells

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, Adventure, LGBT Protagonist, Female Protagonist (Kind Of), Third-Person

Rating: 9/10

Date Began: 12/11/2020

Date Finished: 12/25/2020

Moon and his friends are reeling from the betrayal of a former ally. With several members of their party kidnapped, and a mysterious weapon stolen by their new enemy, the chase is on. He and the others must infiltrate unknown territory to rescue their missing family and avert a deadly calamity. At the same time, a massive army of Fell are gathering to attack the Reaches. The Raksuran colonies of Indigo Cloud and Opal Night must join forces to defend their home before they are overrun and destroyed. 

“But you don’t want to be near Fell,” Moon guessed. Considering what had happened to Shade when they had been captured by the Fell flight northwest of the Reaches, it was only rational. 

“No, I don’t.” He looked at Moon hopelessly. “Is that weak?” 

Consorts were supposed to be weak and delicate and need everything done for them, but Moon and Shade were different, and nothing was going to change that. And “weak” wasn’t really the right word for what Shade meant. What he was trying to say was harder to express. It was giving into feelings other people thought you were supposed to have about things that shouldn’t have happened to you in the first place, but were not like the actual feelings you did have. There wasn’t a word for that in Raksuran or Altanic or Kedaic or any other language Moon knew. Moon said, “It’s not weak.” 

Full review, some spoilers, and content warning(s) under the cut. 

Content warnings for the book:  Graphic violence and action. Implied past r*pe (it’s the same plot point as previous books). Genocide is a big plot point of this one. 

The Harbors of the Sun is the fifth, and presumably final, book in the Raksura series. And boy what a ride it's been. I've enjoyed settling in with a longer fantasy series. While I'm excited to read something new, I'll miss these characters and the captivating world they inhabit. Since this is probably the last installment, I'll look into book-specific details, but also provide some series retrospective commentary. I won't touch on everything, just things that stick out to me.

From what I can tell, The Harbors of the Sun is a little controversial with long time fans. I can see why, and it's the same reason I added "Epic Fantasy" to the tag list. Most of the series has focused on small-scale conflicts centering on the Raksuran characters. There's hints of large-scale stuff in The Siren Depths, but that crisis is averted, so thus not fully realized. However, these last two books contain a much longer storyline, and the stakes in The Harbors of the Sun are potentially catastrophic not just for the Raksura, but thousands if not millions of people. Think The Lord of the Rings trilogy vs The Hobbit in terms of ramp up.

Due to the larger scale, this book also embraces a rotating point of view. The original trilogy is entirely from Moon's perspective, and The Edge of Worlds only dips its toes into alternate POVs. The Harbors of the Sun features multiple character groups all doing important things to the story, so there's lots of perspective shifts. While I still consider Moon the main character, he shares the stage with many others.

Personally, I like the scaled up conflict. It seems like a natural progression of the series. While not every point of view wows me, finally seeing some stuff from Jade and Chime's perspective (for example) is really cool. While Moon is an enjoyable protagonist, he often interprets characters and motivations wrong. Getting someone else’s take on a given situation or character is refreshing. 

One of my favorite alt-perspectives is Frost. She's a young child and minor character, but serves as the perspective for a tense political discussion between Raksuran queens about impending war with the Fell. This whole section serves to convey important information, but also as great worldbuilding to see how Raksura interact with, indulge, and care for their young. While we have seen adult perspectives such as Moon happily playing with his children, it's interesting to see a child's view of life in the colony. This is emblematic of Wells' approach to the series and her technique when crafting this world. It would be easy to pick a major character like Malachite and tell this section from her perspective, but we would miss many interesting details. Using Frost isn't something I would necessarily consider, and is just a cool writing choice.

By the end, The Harbors of the Sun feels like it's been a long, epic journey-- more so than the shorter adventures of previous books. A LOT of stuff happens in this book, and there's so many different interesting places the characters visit. Even events at the beginning feel distant compared to where everything ends. There is a unique appeal in this kind of story. Maybe it's not for everyone, but I personally like the change of pace and tone, especially as a finale. 

For a series retrospective, the Fell are an interesting subject to discuss. I'm impressed with what Wells pulls off with them. One of my criticisms of The Cloud Roads is the Fell aren't especially compelling villains. They're an evil race of shapeshifters, distantly related to Raksura, who infiltrate cities and eat the population. The Fell are parasites-- they have no real culture or ability to survive except through the destruction of others. They’ve recently taken to destroying Raksuran colonies, kidnapping survivors, and forcing them to produce crossbreeds. Obviously, this introduces two narrative problems. One, "evil races" in fantasy are boring and already done ad nauseam. Two, how can one make the Fell interesting when they're literally irredeemable monsters? 

The answer, it turns out, is a nature vs nurture debate, and it's mostly approached through the Fell/Raksura crossbreed characters. While these ideas have been explored throughout the series, The Harbors of the Sun brings it full circle. The Cloud Roads' main antagonist is Ranea, a crossbreed queen raised by the Fell. She sees the crossbreeds as a natural way to strengthen the Fell and make them an even deadlier force than they are by default, since Raksura have their own set of powers and traits. She’s soundly defeated, supposedly concluding the subplot. Until, of course, it comes back. 

In The Siren Depths, we meet several crossbreed characters who are, for all intents and purposes, Raksura. Malachite rescued them as children and chose to raise them as Raksura of Opal Night. The result is that, while Shade and Lithe are aware of their heritage, they've experienced love and acceptance throughout their lives. Sure, they may have some physical traits and abilities that differ from the others, but often these have practical uses in the story. Their families don’t treat them differently because of this. As characters, they're just as Raksuran as everyone else.

In The Edge of Worlds, we're introduced to another crossbreed queen, a foil to Ranea. While she makes some early mistakes, unlike Ranea she seems capable of reason and compassion. We learn her name and backstory in The Harbors of the Sun. Consolation was born in a Fell flight, but most of her childcare came from her father, a captive Raksuran consort. Hence her name, which is painful with context and distinctly Raksuran. Apparently, the consort's influence didn't just extend to Consolation, but to other outcasts in the flight. After his death, Consolation and her allies slaughtered the leadership and took over the flight, and seek a place to live in peace independent of traditional Fell corruption and influence. 

One of the interesting things about this are the kethel and dakti in Consolation's flight. Throughout the series, these two Fell castes are basically treated as cannon fodder. If you need a big intimidating enemy, throw in a kethel. For annoying imp swarms, dakti. The Raksura tend to think of these creatures as intelligent animals, not people. They only talk when a Fell ruler takes over their mind. They're treated badly among the Fell; cannibalized them when food stores get low, thrown into suicidal situations, etc. 

In The Harbors of the Sun, the kethel and dakti can speak, much to the surprise of the main cast. Consolation's main advisor is a crossbreed dakti named First. There's also a kethel (presumably pureblooded Fell) that follows and assists Moon and Stone throughout the book and engages them in conversation. They clearly distrust it, but over the course of the story go from calling it "the kethel" to "Kethel", like an actual name. It has ulterior motives-- to convince the Raksura to help Consolation-- but is certainly not "inherently evil", nor just an intelligent animal. This is counter to everything we've been led to believe through the series, and it shocks multiple characters and challenges their way of thinking. 

The argument at the end is that the Fell are evil because of a poisonous ideology and the total control of the progenitors (female rulers). Raised with compassion and better treatment, they're very similar to the Raksura. I'm honestly impressed with where the Fell end up vs where they start in The Cloud Roads. I don't know if Wells planned this arc for them from the beginning, but I like the amount of nuance she introduced without it feeling gross or trite. Does it work 100 percent? I'm not sure; I'd have to reread the series in more depth. But based on my current thoughts, it’s a good development; it doesn’t “redeem” or justify the Fell, but demonstrates the ways in which future generations can change and break the cycle. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, and many characters clearly distrust these “new” Fell (understandable considering the sheer trauma most of the cast has), but it’s an interesting take nevertheless. 

On another subject, we never really learn what was up with the forerunners! Except they really liked flower motifs, I guess. I kind of like this; there's an impression that the long forgotten civilizations of the past were technologically advanced, but no one knows what happened to them. It's just an enduring mystery of the series. Ultimately it doesn't matter to the characters, and that's fine.

Also, we now have confirmation that The Serpent Sea is basically filler. It felt like a side story when I read it, but part of me hoped it would have some relevance to these last two books. Nope. I’m a little disappointed in this, but it’s not the end of the world, just something to keep in mind when reading the series. I think the book is entertaining on its own merits, but there’s little to connect it to the main story besides the characters. 

Overall I recommend these books to people looking for a non-traditional fantasy series. There's no humans or typical Tolkein-esque fantasy races. Instead there are dozens of sapient humanoid species invented whole cloth, with some obvious real world inspirations. The shapeshifting Raksura are lovingly crafted, with lots of interesting detail about their culture, customs, and daily life. I love how they feel like believable people but are distinctly nonhuman. As a setting, The Three Worlds is deadly and fascinating, with lots of interesting places and people. There's always a sense of a big, vibrant world, even when the books choose not to explore it in depth. While The Harbors of the Sun feels like a finale to the current Raksuran story, I wouldn't be surprised if Wells visits this setting in the future.

There are some short story collections in this series which I do plan to read sometime in 2021. However, I'm going to take a break from the Raksura series and dive into something else for now. Thanks for reading! 

[eury--dice]

history, huh?

chapter 4: proxime

check the notes for links to other chapters and ao3!

(also would like to note a general cw for alcohol and child abuse in this chapter - see ao3/message me for more detail and please be safe and avoid if necessary)

Adam kind of wanted to go back and slap his former self before he could announce anything was “perfect.”

It was only once the turkeys were deposited in his room by blank-faced handlers that he began to regret his decision. The turkeys stared ominously at him, eerily silent for all of five seconds before they started to move and gobble.

And they didn’t stop.

SOS, he texted Ronan simply, receiving a lone question mark in reply. 

  iMessage chat to HRH shitty bird boy

Resumed 28 November, 2019, 12:36 am

  It’s the turkeys. I saved taxpayers needless expense and now they’re going to peck me to death. 

  told you to stop playing the hero, Parrish. 

  NOW IS NOT THE TIME

CORNBREAD IS EYEING ME

Some support would be appreciated here

  i’m going to assume that cornbread is one of the turkeys and not a sentient loaf of cornmeal?

  No, Your Highness, I’ve been performing a complicated experiment involving a snack to see if it can gain intelligence. The crocheted eyes appear to be working.

No shit, Sherlock, good assumption. 

And excuse you, in the South, we make cornbread with real corn. 

  if you’re going to jest don’t include hobbies that seem plausible

  The science experiment or the crocheting?

  both. 

  When would I do either of those?

  fuck if i know, that’s your business. 

  Oh shit oh shit oh shit

Meatloaf is gobbling again.

Is gobbling a precursor to attack? 

Would google it but I’m too afraid to take my eyes off of the dinos.

  gobbling is widely known as a war declaration amongst turkeys 

i’m surprised a smartarse like you wouldn’t know this.

  Oh, fuck it, Adam thought, and before he could talk himself out of it and resign himself to a night of gobbling, the dial icon had been tapped and the glass of his phone felt cool against his hearing ear. 

“Have you ever shared close quarters with a turkey?”

Adam could feel Ronan’s unimpressed silence through the phone. “No, I have not. Why the hell would I?”

“Privileged,” Adam muttered. “You don’t know how sadistic these turkeys are.” 

Cornbread chose that moment to gobble rather loudly and antagonistically. Adam’s eyes snapped to the bird, his muscles freezing in pure fear. “Sorry,” he whispered. 

“Christ,” Ronan said, and his tone had softened somewhat. “Did a turkey make that noise?”

“Yep,” Adam breathed. 

“That is not natural,” he insisted. “What the fuck?”

“I told you!”

A squawk sounded on Ronan’s end, and when Ronan spoke his voice was a great deal gentler than it had been. “Good baby, your noises aren’t demonic…”

“I’ll assume you’re not speaking to me.”

“Fuck no. Every word out of your mouth comes straight from hell.” There was a muffled rustling nose, something that was probably feathers against skin. 

“Your bird?”

“Raven. Keep up, please.”

“Ravens are birds,” Adam said, but it was probably futile. “What’s its name again?”

There was a brief pause on Ronan’s end. “Her name is Chainsaw.”

Adam’s voice fell flat in response. “Chainsaw.”

He heard a kerah. “Something wrong with that?” Ronan said, his accent drawing out the o in ‘wrong’ like it was already a guilty verdict .

“It just doesn’t seem very...royal. Or bird-like.”

“It’s a good cry better than cornbread and stuffing.”

“I didn’t name them,” Adam defended. “Blame the American people.”

“But I already blame them for so much.”

“Add it to the laundry list.” Adam flinched back as the other turkey squawked deafeningly. 

It was the first time he and Ronan had spoken on the phone, and until then, he hadn’t even realized it. All it took was Cornbread’s evil gaze to snap him into reality. 

Silence settled between them for a moment. Adam barely dared to breathe between the awkwardness of his conversation with Ronan and his clearly impending doom at the hands of something only distantly related to dinosaurs. 

“If you get mauled by those turkeys, may I give the eulogy at your funeral?”

Adam snorted, drawn back to the feeling of the phone clenched in his hand. “Ignoring the fact that I’m the son of the President and you’re the Prince of England, absolutely.” 

“Good. I’m already drafting turkey-related jokes.”

“Don’t you dare dishonor me by bringing up the cause of my demise.”

“It’s a good thing Cornbread will have clawed your esophagus out and you’ve no possible way to object.”

“Jesus.” Adam shivered. “Now I have a third part to my nightmare.”

“I would trade you Chainsaw, but she goes for the eyes and I have the feeling you’d rather keep those.”

“Your feeling is correct.”

“Also, I would fucking die for her.”

“...Strong feelings, apparently, for a bird that doesn’t seem royal-approved.”

“That’s half the reason I love her,” Ronan admitted. “Most definitely not approved.”

“Just like your tattoo?”

The line went quiet for a moment. “Yes,” Ronan finally said. “Just like my tattoo.”

That line was back, and Adam inched ever-closer to touching it with his toes.

“No trade, then. I’ll just slowly perish alone in my room. If this causes a fiasco in the press be sure to make fun of me properly.”

“Of course,” Ronan said, just as Stuffing let out a deafening gobble. “Can’t you get Sargent to intimidate them into silence? Or, wait, is it charming them into liking her? I can’t figure her out from your description.”

“Knowing Blue it could be either,” Adam admitted. “And she’s...busy.”

“Busy how?”

“Back in Virginia busy.” Adam stretched out his shoulder, keeping a wary eye on the turkeys. 

“Virginia? With family?”

“Most of her family is Maura, and she’s still here,” Adam hedged, weighing the little he knew about the Sargent family with what he could say to Ronan. “But yeah, of a sort. Thanksgiving’s a rough time of year. She’s trying to help out, even though it’s not technically where she’s from. Raising money, ensuring shelter, I think she’s even got a protest planned.”

“Different shade of Sargent, then.”

“Same shade,” Adam corrected. “Different circumstances.”

Ronan hummed on the other end of the line. Adam scrambled for words, trying to lighten up the air. Stuffing squawked as though to mock his tied tongue.

“She’s been busy for the last few weeks, anyway.”

“What type of busy would this busy be?”

"Just start a new sentence. You sound ridiculous." Ronan stayed silent to his jab, clearly electing to ignore him. “...Date busy.”

“Good for her,” Ronan said, but he must have heard something else in Adam’s silence because he continued. “Wait. No. No fucking way. Not with Gansey?”

“Yes with Gansey.”

“Wow, third wheeling’s gotta be even more fucking awkward, huh?”

“God, I hope not.”

“The way you described them I thought they’d never wake up to it.”

“Me too,” Adam said. “And I’m thrilled for them, but I’m also very offended that their feelings are getting in the way of saving me. Gansey went with her.”

“Oh, you drama queen. Just sleep in Gansey’s room if the gobbling is that bad.”

“They can escape, Ronan, I swear to you. They’re like the raptors-”

“They’re named after fatty foods. You’ll be alright. Go the fuck to sleep.”

“...Yeah, alright. But you need to sleep too.”

“Wouldn't dream of letting you sleep alone,” Roman replied, his tone dry. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

As Adam let his phone fall onto his pillow, Stuffing chose to bash her wings against the cage. After almost falling out of his bed in fright, Adam quickly decided that Ronan might have been onto something about sleeping in Gansey’s room. 

If he made it through the night, he owed Ronan a thank you.

  ***

Christmas rolled around with a mighty fervor.

It felt like one moment, Adam was sitting back down in class after Thanksgiving to crack down on some new essays, and the next he was watching evergreens and pine decorations get thrown up along White House walls in perfect synchrony. 

The normal White House Christmas was an ordeal, one that did its best to stress family but mostly stressed political strategy. Nothing changed that year to make it different, but they did have a smaller affair in addition to all the festivities. Christmas Eve was, in many ways, the eye of the storm. An extreme amount of chaos was behind them, and a deluge to follow come Christmas morning, but Christmas Eve dinner was dependable, private, and blessedly relaxed. Adam, somehow, found himself looking forward to it. 

He sat on one of the staircases - it really didn’t matter which one, as they all blent together, only distinguishable by where they could take him - with the decorations hanging around him and a book in his lap. For once, there wasn’t any work, and even the most work-centered version of himself was forced to concede and enjoy a few hours of pleasure reading. He had grabbed the first book he could find off of his shelf and set off. Apparently, his hand had gravitated towards Fahrenheit 451. Not exactly light enough to match the twinkling reds and golds he spotted in his periphery no matter how he turned, but a personal choice all the same. 

“If you keep sitting on staircases, someone is going to walk into you,” came Gansey’s voice from behind him. 

“It’s their fault for not watching their way,” said Adam. “I’m sitting with my back to them. How am I expected to know?”

“By not sitting on staircases,” Gansey repeated. The air rustled as Gansey lowered to sit on the step next to Adam. “Some nice, light reading?”

“Yes. Everything okay?”

“Grand. Mostly just avoiding Helen unpacking and my parents stressing over napkin rings.”

“Gansey Christmas sounds wonderful,” Adam said dryly. “I assume they’ll all be here tonight?”

“Of course. They’d never miss it.”

“Helen is well?”

“Fantastic, apparently. Primed to get engaged soon, she says, and the helicopter’s got a new paint job.”

Adam could almost forget how much the Ganseys looked like a new Kennedy-like dynasty, but their swarming every year always reminded him. Their Christmas photos, too - always at DC landmarks, bleached teeth and ghost-pale skin and all-American born and bred grins. And the occasional snap stories from Helen of her mid-piloting a flying vessel didn’t help. 

“Glad to hear it,” he said, not surprised to find the words genuine. 

He got to see the Gansey family anxiety for himself only a few hours later, donned in an ugly Christmas sweater Blue had insisted on. Mr. Gansey cast a discerning eye around the room while Mrs. Gansey smiled tightly at his side, dressed pristinely. Helen chatted idly with Blue, though Blue looked prepared to bolt at a moment's notice. 

“Ho-ho-horseshit?” Maura questioned, snapping him away from his reverie and gazing around like a caged animal. Her eyes traced over the pattern on his shirt. 

“Blue’s homemade gift,” he said by way of response, to which Maura only sighed heavily. Her sudden appearance reminded him he had a task to perform, the small handled bag digging into his palm suddenly given a purpose. He held the bag out to Maura with a small grimace, watching one of her eyebrows quirk. “I was told to give you this.”

Maura withdrew an identical sweater from the bag. “Sending you to do her dirty work, hm?”

“I suppose so.”

“Hm,” was all Maura replied, until she lifted her analytical gaze to him. “Thanks, Adam,” she said, and in one of the greatest surprises of the night, slid her arm over his shoulders and drew him into a quick hug. “Now sit down. We’ve gotta start wrangling dinner if we want this to end before midnight.”

Adam took his place next to Gansey at the smaller table, unfolding a napkin and laying it across his lap. The gals at the table slowly began to fill in as Gansey chatted about the recent tabloid conjectures. 

“The youngest is back in the tabloids, you know, trying to get him on drug use again.”

“Oh, really?” Adam muttered, eyes scanning idly over the periphery of the room. His eyes snagged on the Christmas decorations, simpler than the majority of the White House decor. A few string lights here and there, hanging baubles, the occasional pile of fake snow. His finger tapped at the stem of his empty wine glass. 

“Last time he disappeared for public for a while. Heaven knows if that’ll happen again.”

He felt an itch inside his deaf ear, one he knew he wouldn’t be able to reach. “Disappeared?” 

“Yeah, just...gone, no public appearances…”

It was a vague memory, or perhaps a memory of a memory.  Just a snatch of something that made the hairs in the back of his neck stand up. He tried to focus on Gansey’s words, but all at once they started sliding around, unclear and blending with the too-loud noises of dinner being served. A cacophony of clacks and laughs and voices. His head burned. 

Gansey’s voice lowered. “Are you alright, Adam?”

He scooted his chair backward quickly, muttering something like “back in a minute” to Gansey before rushing away. He felt eyes on the back of his head, but he didn’t pause or slow until the door to his bedroom shut firmly behind him and he leaned against it, completely alone. 

“Parrish?” Ronan’s voice said in his ear, low and urgent, and oh. Adam hadn’t even realized his phone was in his hand, much less that he’d managed to press Ronan’s contact or raise it to his ear. He did briefly remember the ringing, but then words were falling out of his mouth and he didn’t waste any more brainpower on how he reached that position.

“I don’t want to…to bother you,” Adam said, and only someone who had known him for a long time would know how much it took Adam to say those words despite the fact that it was a mantra in his head repeating infinitely. Blue, who had known him since the age of five, had heard him say it only a handful of times. Gansey had heard it perhaps a handful more, though that was mostly because Adam felt strangely indebted to Gansey no matter how much he tried to change it. Ronan should not have known, but Adam had a feeling he would anyway. “You hate phones and it’s Christmas Eve and-”

“Adam,” Ronan said abruptly, and the use of his first name stopped him short. “It’s two in the morning. I’m just with Matthew. Talk.”

“Hi, Adam,” came a cheerful voice, somehow sounding like an even better picture-perfect British monarchy member than Ronan or Declan. “Ronan’s told me everything about how he-”

Adam missed Ronan’s ensuing muttered comment, something that most likely resembled a threat, but soon the voice that Adam assumed to be Mathew let out a trailing laugh, the sound growing fainter as he likely moved away from the phone.

“And fuck you!” Ronan called, with his mouth moved away from the receiver, before his attention returned to Adam. “He’s gone now.”

“It’s okay,” Adam said. “I didn’t mind.”

“I know,” Ronan said simply. “But I thought it might be easier. Now go.”

“I-I just,” Adam fumbled with his words for a moment, his free hand curling into a fist on his thigh. He felt, strangely, like he was back in Aglionby PE class trying to participate in a football scrimmage. He’d always come just short of catching the ball. He’d known what he was supposed to do, where his hands were supposed to go, the sequence of events following the initial contact, even the proper footwork. But whenever the ball reached him, he felt the disconcerting motion of closing his arms around nothing, always a second too early or too late, leather slipping from his arms like butter in a hot pan. “Couldn’t be at that dinner any longer.”

“Why?” Ronan asked, and it was a good question, a good question that Adam had avoided so many times over he barely knew how to respond. He almost deflected like he always did, but Ronan asked the question differently than everyone else. There was no expectation in the question, no real drive to know the answer other than making Adam feel better, no guarantee of hearing the full truth or any version of the truth at all. Why. Why respond now?

“I was little,” he said, and fuck why did he go down this road at all? “And everything was overwhelming when I was little, and everything is overwhelming now, but it’s even more overwhelming at Christmas.” Ronan didn’t say it again, but still, it traveled across an ocean to hover over Adam uncertainly. Why?

“I don’t remember a lot about it. I don’t know if that’s because of...how it was, or just because I was so small. Younger than three, I think.”

“I barely remember anything from then,” Ronan said, the closest thing to reassurance Adam had received from him.

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Yeah. I guess. But I remember...I remember the double-wide. The great American double-wide in the great American trailer park with the great American alcohol and the great, raging American father.”

Ronan’s breath shifted ever so slightly.

Adan screwed his eyes shut. “I don’t...my mother wasn’t there. But she was the one who put the Christmas lights up. I couldn’t stop staring at them. I can still remember...they made the tan wall look almost golden. Just where the lights touched it, of course.” His voice trailed off, realizing how tangential it sounded. Softly, he added “I don’t know why I remember those lights.”

“Our minds remember random things,” Ronan said, perhaps to bring Adam back to the story.

“Yeah,” Adam agreed, blinking quickly. “Yeah. He didn’t...he didn’t like that. Me looking at them, I mean. So he...he took them down.”

The silence pressed in at his ears, threatening to close in on him just like walls. 

“I see,” Ronan said. 

“And he…” Adam swallowed, feeling his Adam’s apple scratch tightly against his neck. He pressed his free hand to his deaf ear. “I don’t remember a lot after that, either. But the bulbs were...hot. It was freezing inside, so they should have been, too, but they were lightbulbs, I guess, and so they were hot. At some point, I fell into a railing. It burst my left eardrum.” At that moment, he could feel that second in startling clarity - pinpricks and needles and blood vessels dancing on his skin, sharp, pointed, wild attacks, and the loudest noise he’s ever heard in his life, making him collapse to the ground and forget everything else. Pain, bright and white and flashing and throbbing in time with his heartbeat until he wanted to melt into the floor. Adam was the better part of two decades removed from it, and still, the thought of that moment made his stomach turn over and over.

Adam knew he didn’t imagine Ronan’s intake of breath then.

“And my mother got home, and when she saw we left and never came back.”

The walls pressed closer to him until Ronan said “Well, shit. Fuck. Jesus.”

Adam brought his hand to his mouth, pressing it until the pressure began to ease up in his gut. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, muffled against his fingers.

“No, shit, Parrish. Don’t you dare apologize.” There was a quick exhale, something that sounded like leather sliding down a headboard. “That’s what you remember of Christmas?’

“Yeah. I don’t - I don’t remember a whole lot.”

“Well, thank God for that.”

Not even Blue and Gansey knew that story. They knew the vague details, of course, how his smiles turned tight around the White House decorations and he preferred to slip into his room early on holidays. And that Robert was the reason for his being deaf in one ear. He could just never get the entire story out around them.

Telling Ronan about it was easy, though, in a way that it shouldn’t have been. He was supposed to hate Ronan, even if it became more clear with every passing day that he was far from hatred. 

“I guess I should. It’s not like I’ve done any of that in a long time.”

“You don’t have to.” A slight pause. “I can.”

Adam tried to keep the doubt out of his voice. “You can?”

For a brief moment, Adam thought Ronan might hang up on him. But then he said, “Can I tell you a secret, Parrish?”

After everything I just put on you, you could tell me a thousand secrets. You know I’ll keep every single one. I’m trusting you with a story that no one else knows, that no one else will ever know. I could do nothing less than keep your secret. 

All he said was “Of course.”

“You know my Irish father? My Irish storytelling father? My Irish-Catholic father?”

“Right.”

“He passed down more to me than just his Irish stories.”

It took Adam’s brain a moment to catch up. “I...see.”

“All three of us...well, behind closed doors, that’s what we practice. Believe. Whatever shit you want.”

“Right. So no… C of E.”

“On the record, of course. Off the record...no. None at all.”

Adam hummed in response. He couldn’t think of what else to say. 

“So...I will. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah. Of course.” A knock sounded on the door, sounding suspiciously like Gansey’s familiar tapping. He rose slowly, crossing to fall onto his bed. “I should probably let you go. Don’t want you to have too prolonged contact with any screens.”

“Disgusting,” Ronan said. A beat passed. “Are you a bit better?”

Adam shut his eyes, feeling the tension coiled in his chest ease up slightly. The line between the two of them materialized at his feet, on the backs of his lids, and he could nearly touch it with the toe of his shoes. “Yes,” he admitted. “Thank you.” And of all the words for Adam to say, they were the easiest and hardest to accomplish.

“Thank you,” Ronan said, and if Adam didn’t know any better he would think the words sounded harder to say for Ronan than Adam. But the line clicked and fell dead before Adam could say anything. He stared at the phone for a moment until the screen switched off from disuse, leaving him in the dark. Only then did he stand and cross the room to perch on the edge of his bed.

Gansey’s head poked through his doorway. He hesitated as though asking for permission, and Adam nodded. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything."

“It’s fine,” Adam hedged. “We were wrapping up.”

Gansey fell heavily into Adam’s desk chair just as he always did. “Everything alright?”

“Now it is, yeah.”

He seemed to be trying to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. “That wasn’t Noah, was it?”

“No, of course not.”

Gansey nodded once. “So it was Ronan.”

“What?” Adam sat up a little too quickly, blood rushing to his head. “Why would you say - how do you-?”

“You don’t exactly have a wide circle of friends. Guessing is easy.”

“I hate your knowledge of my loneliness.” He swallowed roughly. “And we’re not... friends.” 

Gansey cocked one eyebrow. His thumb raised to run over his lower lip. “Really?” He challenged.

And, well. No. Not really. Adam thought of their strings of messages, the trade of information between them so easy and simple. He couldn’t pretend that they were enemies anymore, or that their general feelings weren’t positive.

“Really,” He said, launching himself up off of his bed. Smoothing out the wrinkles in his pants, he glanced back over to his friend. Gansey was studying him with a distantly memorable expression, as though trying to discern a difficult Latin translation but determined not to ask for help. 

“Well,” Gansey said, blinking once, twice. He stood abruptly, noting Adam moving towards the door. “Let’s off, then.” “You’re not British, Gansey, don’t say that.”

“Mm, you’d know all about their phrases, wouldn’t you?”

“Do not.”

Before Adam reached the door, Gasney stopped him, saying his name so lowly Adam almost missed it. He turned and waited for Gansey to speak.

“Are you sure you can go back?” Adam mustered a smile. No, he thought, but Ronan’s voice echoed in his head. Don’t apologize. Maybe he could make it through after all, have a slightly better memory of Christmas. “Yeah, I am.” And he turned the doorknob to let them spill out into the hallway.

  ***

iMessage chat to HRH shitty bird boy

Resumed 29 December, 2019, 5:17 pm

  Look. I’m just saying.

Ignoring the fact that bearer bonds haven’t been legally in use since 1982

That henchman says that they’re valued at $100,000 USD

(£75,700 for your British ass)

and then Alan Rickman says they earn 20%

When the interest rate on corporate bonds was 9% when Die Hard came out??

And also there’s never been a US bond worth more than $10,000??

  stop letting sargent force you to watch die hard

for the love of god stop

it’s a MOVIE

  It’s not Blue, actually.

It’s your best friend.

  henry??? how??

  Netflix party

He got my number (thanks for that)

And wouldn’t stop texting insisting we watch it

Or he (as threatened) will “release the bees??”

I’m not sure what he meant but here I am. 

Accidentally desecrating Alan Rickman’s legacy.

Blue’s here too but it’s not her fault, at least.

  that asshole

how dare i not be included in everything he does

  “Why the hell is Ronan on the guest list?” Adam demanded, casting his eyes over their virtual list for what felt like the hundredth time. Planning for their New Year’s Eve fundraising event/PR dream/blowout party had been well underway since before Christmas, but crucial developments always occurred in the weeklong stretch between Christmas and New Year’s. Like the inclusion of the Prince of England on their exclusive invitation list of all the most famous and powerful twenty-somethings from around the planet.

Blue, seated sideways in an armchair and eating a container of strawberry yogurt at a glacial pace, said “I thought you added him?” 

Adam wouldn’t put it past her to add him and feign innocence - she had some hidden agenda with him and Ronan, anyway, one he wasn’t quite sure of - but her ignorance seemed genuine. At once, they both turned to Gansey. He kept his face blank.

“Good question, Adam,” he said, refusing to back down under their stares. “But the real question is why didn’t you invite him?”

Adam, too, did his best to look passive. “Why would I?”

“He’s your only friend that’s not currently in this room?”

“Plus he’s great for the press,” Blue chimed in.

Adam just looked between them, and Gansey sighed.

“Look, Adam, it’s - it’s great that you actually get along with him. Like him.”

“Do not,” Adam retorted automatically. His phone buzzed, and he felt his cheeks darken a little with the knowledge that it was probably Ronan. Gansey and Blue were probably staring at each other and having one of their silent conversations, but he didn’t trust himself to look at them without giving anything away. Not that there was anything to give away. “You invited Cheng too, right? Ronan won’t come if he doesn’t.” “Thought you didn’t care?” Blue asked, and he shrugged.

“They’ve both RSVP’d yes, Adam, so I’m sure your best friend will be there.”

“Lovely,” Adam muttered, ushering them along the rest of their planning.

Just before eight PM on the thirty-first of December, Adam curled into his desk chair with a textbook perched on his bent knees. Blue, already dressed and made up while laying spread-eagle on his bed, fiddled with the hem of her shirt. She’d managed to convince PR that a self-designed outfit would make a splash, and Adam had to agree with her - she really did have a knack for design and upcycling. 

Technically, they should have been heading down to play host to all types of young, influential people, buttering them up for cash and future favors. But much as the media loved their wild parties, none of the White House Trio were particularly fond of them. They preferred a quieter scene, but quiet didn’t raise money and make headlines. 

That didn’t mean they couldn’t hole up and enjoy the peace and quiet before then.

Gansey, who by far had the greatest social battery, was therefore left to field early attendants and the press on the lawn. He’d come and drag them out of Adam’s room soon enough, of course, but before that time came there was relative peace.

“I guess we’ll get one more of these,” Blue said. “At least.”

Adam lifted his eyes from the book and looked at her. “Yes,” he said softly. “I think I’ll miss them?”

She laughed, a deep laugh that eased a bit of the pre-party anxiety in his chest. “I won’t. I hate this party.”

“But don’t you like flirting with all the daughters of Oscar-winning actresses?”

Blue hummed. “That is fun. They’re never ready for it.”

“They never are.”

“I’ll be doing less of that this year, though.”

“And hopefully forever?” Adam teased. The sudden air of wistfulness descending around Blue gave him a hint of pause. She took a moment to respond.

”Maybe,” she muttered. “Shut up.”

Adam let it go for then, sensing genuine distress in Blue’s stiffened shoulders.

“They wouldn’t be so bad if everyone didn’t get so blacked out.”

“Well, we have liability waivers now. And I think you mean it would be worse.”

Adam sighed. “I guess no one would show up without the promise of alcohol.”

“Exactly.”

Contrary to how Blue and Gansey made him live, Adam really didn’t enjoy drinking that much. When he did, he preferred to do so quietly - sitting in the music room with the rest of the trio, celebrating a good grade with his family, breaking out something to make a night-in a little more exciting. Events like the Royal Wedding were a one-off, where he needed distraction and alcohol presented itself. 

He didn’t want to think about the need for distraction just then, with Ronan and Henry Cheng most likely en route to the White House.

A few quick, precise knocks came at the door. Gansey. He popped his head in.

“You two need to show up soon or it’s going to look suspicious,” he greeted. Blue made a tiny noise of discontent and made to turn her face into Adam’s pillow, but must have remembered her makeup and decided otherwise.

Adam heaved a sigh and stood, smoothing one hand over his hair. He’d straightened and smoothed it down for the event, knowing the cameras preferred him in all of his polished glory. He glanced between Blue and Gansey, but their gazes didn’t flicker from each other. Something about the hunger in their eyes made Adam ache, a tight knot settled in his chest. Gansey moved into the room and Adam out of it. He cast a glance through the doorway over his shoulder, trying to gauge if he should wait for them. By the low, urgent whispers carrying between them and Gansey’s hands rested on Blue’s elbows as they stood nearly flush, his presence was no longer necessary. 

Adam trailed down the hallowed halls until he reached the mingling mass of people in the East Room. He turned on his smile, trying his best to become invisible. It didn’t work. At every turn, another person grabbed his shoulder to catch up, another drink pressed into his hand, another question hurled his way. At some point, he started to feel a bit numb in the fingers, tiredness and giddiness from the schmoozing seeping into his bones.

Blue appeared at his side. Her smile had dampened somewhat, but he could tell she was enjoying herself from the set of her brows. Something, however, was off at just that moment. She inclined her head behind her, and that was all the explanation Adam needed. 

Ronan often had that upsetting effect on people. 

Adam took a moment to observe the scene. Ronan and Henry Cheng stood several feet away, engaged in conversation with Gansey, who walked backwards tidily through the crowd as though herding them towards Adam. Ronan’s face remained passive, clad in his black-leather best. Adam’s skin felt hot and itchy under his shirt, and he looked instead to Cheng. In his Madonna t-shirt, Cheng drew attention to himself in waves. Between his eccentric origin story and absently friendly expression, not to mention the excited manner in which he partook in whatever Gansey was saying, Cheng would surely be the hot commodity of the party. 

“Making friends?” Adam asked Blue, pulling a face at the same time she did. 

“He’s your best friend,” she replied just as Gansey reached them. Blue reached out a hand to stop him from colliding with them, stretching her arm so that it was almost straight, and he caught her hand easily with a squeeze.

From what Adam could tell, their conversation centered around some vague school memory from Eton, but it dissolved as soon as Blue and Adam broke their circle. The brief silence was broken quickly by Henry Cheng, who announced, “Well, if it isn’t the man with the worst opinions about Die Hard.” 

Against his will, Adam felt the corners of his lips twitch. “And the man who cried over Alan Rickman dying in Die Hard.”

Henry shrugged. “I wear my emotions proudly.”

“We fucking know,” Ronan said, breaking his silence. Adam hated how nicely the tight leather jacket accented his pale skin and high cheekbones, looking almost regal in his rebellion. “You monologued about the unbridled joy in your heart over the Madonna song playing when we first arrived.”

Henry grinned. “I will not apologize for being stable in my masculinity, Ronan, unlike all you repressed British types.”

“I need a drink,” Ronan declared loudly, plucking one from the closest tray and downing it in one graceful motion as one might serve a tennis ball. Henry did not appear phased by the sudden dramatics. 

“Now, let’s see if I get everyone.” He turned his head to Gansey, moving around the circle. “We’ve got King Ganseyman, of course. Adam Parrish, the least valid person I can think of for purely petty reasons. And of course our dear Periwinkle.”

Adam cocked a brow and subtly shifted his eyes to look at Blue. She looked fit to claw out someone’s eye even though her own eye scars were obscured in makeup; her hand had tightened significantly around Gansey’s, and he gave no indication of pain from the movement beyond the barest twitch of his mouth. 

“Clever,” she said at last, sparing him a tight, sarcastic smile. “I’ve also read the labels on nail polish to pick up a few new words. It’s nice to know you can read.”

“Yes, well, you have to start your journey to literacy somewhere,” Henry said grandly. “I appreciate your support, of course.”

Adam caught a flicker of amusement pass of Blue’s face. He had a sinking suspicion that maybe Blue wasn’t as averse to Cheng as she put on a show of. 

“Are you literate enough to read off a drink order?” she said. 

Henry grinned, white teeth lining in rows in his mouth. “I suppose I can string a few words together.”

Without letting go of Gansey, Blue surged forward, looping her other arm in Henry’s. The three of them trailed off towards the drinks, Blue and Henry moving determinedly and Gansey, bemused and grinning at their sudden acquaintanceship, lagging a step or so behind. Adam gazed after them for a moment, but Ronan took a step closer to be heard over the music and he turned his head to look at him. 

“She’s gonna have them wrapped up all night.”

Adam raised a brow. “You can read her that well?”

Ronan gave his head the tiniest, nearly imperceptible shake. “No. I know Cheng and Gansey.”

The heat of the room was starting to cling to Adam’s skin; he rolled one shoulder uncomfortably. “Of course. Eton gang’s reunited.”

“For better or worse,” Ronan agreed lowly. 

Adam meant to ask what he meant by that, but he never received the chance. A hand tapped Ronan firmly on the shoulder, and Adam watched as he turned automatically. His face broke into an uncharacteristic grin at the sight of the person behind him. Adam felt his forehead crease as the figure wrapped their arms around Ronan’s shoulders and he hugged them back almost as enthusiastically. For a moment, the only sight was the overlapping of pale and dark skin, the stranger’s feather-pink jacket contrasting with the black leather Ronan wore. 

Then the two separated, and between the black bralette, exuberant eyeshadow, and tight-coiled hair shining under the strobe lighting, Adam recognized Hennessy - up-and-coming London artist, an occasional nuisance. and precisely the type of person that thrived at these parties. 

“You bastard,” she said to Ronan. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here.”

“Henry was live-tweeting the whole flight.” 

She scoffed lightly, rubbing at an invisible spot of dirt on Ronan’s cheek. “I've had him muted since uni.”

“Don’t let him hear that you haven’t been keeping up on his page.”

“Aww, it’s sweet you worry for me, little fox, but I can take that pissant any day of the week.”

Ronan pulled back slightly. “Of course you could, but Henry goes more for psychological violence.”

“Yes, well, I can get him in that too.” Neither acknowledged Adam standing nearby. Hennessy shook her head, curls bouncing with the movement and picking up all kinds of strobe lighting. “Where is he, that shadow of yours?”

“Cheng could never be anyone’s shadow. He’s too out there.”

“And you’re the one he chooses not to abandon, hm? How sweet.” When she smiled, she looked very much like a painting, striking and set and venomous enough to burn at the slightest brush. Ronan appeared impervious.

“He’s making friends.”

“Hm. How boring.”

Ronan’s voice lowered, but Adam thought he could hear him say “Jordan’s not here?” 

Hennessy’s lips, the same vibrant shade as her lids, pulled a little tighter. “Nah,” she replied, casual enough. “Working on some deadlines, poor thing.” Her eyes flitted away from Ronan’s face for the first time, landing squarely on Adam instead. Her grin widened. “Well, there’s our treasured host. Late to your own party?”

“I have learned a few things from you over the years, Hennessy,” Adam replied, slipping a hand into his pocket in an attempt to appear more casual than he felt. 

“Fuck, I guess you have,” she admitted. Compared to Ronan’s accent, her voice sounded slipperier and rounder, sliding through the air until it reached his ears. She lifted a hand to land one last pat to Ronan’s cheek before gliding on to land a similar one to Adam. She paused briefly in front of him, lowering her hand. 

“You look happy,” she noted. Waggling her fingers in a wave, she turned back so both Adam and Ronan could see her. “I need a drink to get through all these boring political types. Ta, darlings,” she said, before disappearing back into the crowd as quickly as she had arrived. 

Adam exchanged a look with Ronan. “So you know Hennessy?”

“I’d hope so, yeah,” Ronan said, but he didn’t elaborate. “You?”

“We've met a few times.” 

“Pity,” Ronan said, standing like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands. 

Adam rolled a few words around on his tongue - questions, mostly, infused with the sudden jealousy he felt simmering low in his gut - but instead all he said, so out of character, was “Do you want a drink?”

His shoulders seemed to soften slightly. “Can’t let Sargent have all the good ideas, I guess.”

“I’ll tell her you thought it was a good idea.”

“Fuck off.”

Ronan appeared a little more at ease with a drink in hand, and eventually, Adam lost him to the crowd. He stood stranded for the briefest of moments before Henry Cheng appeared, for the second time that night, at his side.

“Adam Parrish,” he said, handing off a drink that looked clear and deadly. It took his fingers a moment to remember to grab it rather than letting it splash to the ground. 

“Cheng,” Adam said, letting the déja vû wash over himself. “Thought we already had our introductions.”

“Of course,” Henry replied, tone too even and pleasant for the chaos around them. “Just wanted a chat with the movie critic, is all.”

Adam cast a skeptical eye around the room. “You’re sure this is the best place?”

“No time like the present, my friend.” Henry threw an arm around his shoulders, guiding Adam towards the dance floor and obscuring his own voice further. “How about you down that there drink and enjoy yourself? You look positively coiled and ready to strike.”

“I’d really rather not. What is it you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, if you’re so connected to sobriety, so be it,” Henry said, stealing the drink back. He nodded over Adam’s shoulder as he lowered his head back down from the drink, and when Adam glanced he saw a flash of Ronan’s leather among the crowd. “Our Ronan is looking fit, no? I’m proud of him for getting out of the house.”

“Some house,” Adam muttered, not expecting Henry to hear. All the same, his companion let out a startled laugh.

“Could say the same to you. But yes,” he said, leaning closer, “between you and me, the palace is always quite disarming.” Straightening and throwing a wave over his shoulder, Henry added, “Perhaps you have more reason to get used to it than I do, however.”

“More reason?”

Henry smiled, then, and somehow it appeared as menacing as Hennessy’s had earlier. Maybe he’d learned from her. “Friends of the royals make quite frequent trips, I’m afraid.”

“What, you’re not approved enough?”

“‘Fraid not. Heir to a fortune is not the same as First Son, Parrish, and I believe you’ve a wonderful slip of parchment ensuring just how approved you are.”

“I can’t find it in myself to be surprised you know.”

“Well, imagine being me if I didn’t!” Henry exclaimed, drawing the attention of a few popular influencers as he splashed a drink in their direction with his aggressive gesturing. “I was only on the receiving end of the HRH’s rants for three bloody years before you wrestled each other in frosting at the greatest wedding of the decade-”

“We didn’t wrestle-”

“And then you turn up a week later, acting all buddy-buddy for every camera you find - well, it would look suspicious had I not known!”

“Mhm,” Adam drawled, cutting his eyes back to Henry. “I bet Ronan can’t keep a secret from you.”

Henry grinned again, baring his teeth. “You’ve read him so well, McClane.” He sighed theatrically barely a moment later. “And debunked my argument succinctly.”

“That’s the price to pay for knowing all of Ronan’s thoughts, I suppose, Gruber.”

“Among many others. I’d expect his Niamh to know that well enough, though.”

Adam felt himself freeze as Henry’s hand came in contact with his shoulder, a friendly pat. His Niamh. As if that meant anything, as if those words fit together in any logical pattern. His Niamh, and his mother’s voice - almost golden. 

“Or you will soon enough, mate,” Henry said. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

And Henry Cheng disappeared into the crowd, popping up laughing with Blue a few feet away.

Adam surrendered gaining any grip on this night right then.

At some point, Hennessy found him, pressing a drink into his palm - what was with all his friends and acquaintances plying him with alcohol? - and said, “Well, I’d think you were avoiding me as you have at the last two of these parties.”

“Never avoiding,” Adam defended, mustering a smile as he lifted the drink to his lips without thinking. “Just generally indisposed at events.”

“You’re making some good choices, then.”

“What’s done must be done.”

She raised a single eyebrow. “Rather defeatist of you, Golden Boy. Don’t remember that from your time on the campaign trail.”

Adam grinned. “I’m a fully realized creation. I have the capacity to change.” “There he is, bringing out the philosophy at parties.” She nodded to something that might have been Ronan if Adam focused his eyes and squinted enough. “Don’t remember him, either.”

“Have I mentioned you look fantastic?”

“I know, darling, and I note your deflection.”

“My point stands.”

“And it’s valued.” She slid an arm over his shoulders, uncomfortably warm, to lean closer to his ear. “But we’re gonna have a conversation when you’re not overwhelmed at a party you don’t want to throw. I’m serious about the ignoring.”

“I know you are.”

“Mhm. And if I were you, I’d go check on your boy. But I’m not you, so I’m going to enjoy myself.”

As quickly as she’d appeared, she slid off into the crowd, joining the numbers of people Adam had completely lost to the mob. Everyone seemed able to navigate it but him.

As the clock neared midnight and another drink disappeared from Adam’s hand, leaving his blood buzzing pleasantly through his veins, he slipped out one of the ornate double doors. He breathed in fresh air like a man coming across water in the desert, the haze around his mind clearing with every breath. He ambled to a free bench, his legs still stiff and straight from overuse. The stone bit into his long fingers as he curled his hand around the bench seat, but he welcomed the feeling because it was so far from the thriving mass of bodies indoors.

At some point, he opened his eyes again. His eyes had briefly registered another figure outdoors by the statue when he first exited. Only once his eyes were open and scanning did he recognize the figure, a silhouette of black leather cut harshly from the ethereal white exterior of the Residence.

“Everything okay?” He called to Ronan.

“Yeah,” Ronan replied without turning to face him. “Just...getting some air.”

It was easier to associate this Ronan with the one he heard on the phone - so far from that royal persona projected everywhere, a voice in a face with no expectations on it. Ronan could have been anyone, his accent lax and his posture eerily straight in a contrast that made Adam feel a bit winded. 

“It’s loud in there,” he admitted.

Ronan didn’t respond, but Adam’s statement wasn’t one that required response. 

“I thought this would be more your scene,” Adam finally said, challenge creeping into his voice. He wasn’t sure if it was a genuine challenge or if he was just falling back on old habits instead of saying something he might regret.

“And I didn’t think it would be yours.”

“Fair enough, since it’s not.”

Ronan threw him a glance over one shoulder at that. “Makes perfect sense to throw this function, then.”

“Well, the media doesn’t exactly eat up overpriced textbooks and econ calculations, so I do what I can.”

“Mm,” Ronan hummed in something that sounded like agreement. “They do love the sex, drugs, and rock and roll, even in places it’s not happening.”

Adam stood, placing his hands on his knees like he had bad joints. “Unless if you actually went to 239 parties last year, I’d guess you know all about that exaggeration.”

“Do you stalk my tabloids, Parrish? The fuck?”

“No, Gansey does. With everybody. He just reads all his findings to me.”

“Terrifying,” Ronan muttered. “If I die of mysterious circumstances, you’ll both be on the shortlist of suspects.” “What?” Adam challenged. “You’ll keep it in the breast pocket of your blazer?”

“Sure,” Ronan replied. “I have to keep it folded up close to my heart, of course. Keep your lovers close but enemies closer.”

Ronan tilted his head in the direction of the statue, silently beckoning Adam to stand by him. It felt a bit like a confession, like his permission implied passing some silent test.

Briefly, in his buzzing brain, he wondered what side of that spectrum he fell on. 

“Did you get sick of watching Blue and Gansey?”

Adam shrugged, pulling to a stop just next to Ronan. He kicked absently at the ground with his toe. “A bit.”

“That has to have been a weird development to get used to.”

“A bit,” Adam repeated.

“Still, it hasn’t been too long.”

“I think they’ve been a thing for longer,” Adam admitted.

Ronan turned his head, and suddenly Adam felt the icy cool of his eyes trained on Adam’s face. “Why?”

Adam shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems obvious, looking back. They’ve clearly been together for a while. August, at least.” He crossed his arms over his chest, the December-January chill suddenly settling over him. “I think they were...protecting me.”

Ronan snorted, the gesture not a bit princely. “Protecting you?”

Adam fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt.

“I’m damaged goods, Highness,” he said at length. “I’m fragile.”

Even though Adam didn’t turn to him, he felt Ronan’s eyes probe deeper as though imploring Adam to look back to him. “That’s a fucking lie,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Adam snorted, but Ronan was not deterred.

“You’re not fragile,” he repeated. “If you’re fragile, the world is being held up by - by dental floss and craft glue. No, a weak person couldn’t do what you do. Bullshit for the cameras at least once a week, keep up your grades, work on policy with Czerny, keep up your ratings so that they never dip - that’s too much for someone who is fragile.”

“Oh, then you must be superhuman, with all the bullshitting you do.”

“Of course I am, Parrish,” Ronan said, turning his eyes up and away from Adam.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, elbows rested on the cold metal fence guarding the statue. The night sky hung above them, pale in all of the light pollution of the city, but if Adam strained he could see the faint points carving themselves into the sky and drawing themselves into pictures and promises. Ronan’s heat radiated next to him, leather almost snagging on cotton. The fact that this was their first time seeing each other in person since the hospital photo-op did not escape Adam’s notice, but neither did the easy way in which they managed to coexist despite the time and distance removing them from that point.

When the moment grew too heavy, he said, “Did you look at my Wikipedia page?”

“No.”

Adam arched an eyebrow.

“...Matthew may have done some light Googling.”

Adam laughed. It wasn’t his carefree camera laugh, the ones that kept up his ratings, but it was a laugh nonetheless, one that dispersed through the air as though worried it could be stolen away at any moment. Ronan’s face shuttered abruptly. His expression became inscrutable, and Adam didn’t realize he’d looked happy until he no longer did.

All at once, Adam remembered the line separating them, and he felt certain they were touching it with their feet almost overlapping, face to face and chest to chest.

“You didn’t have to come,” Adam said softly, his normal voice suddenly feeling far too loud for the little bubble forming around them, devoid of anyone else. “Not if you didn’t want to.”

Ronan didn’t speak for a moment, by choice or to gather his words, Adam didn’t know. “I did.”

Adam just shook his head, choosing to stand in comfortable silence. A star winked in the sky.

“Non est ad astra mollis e terris via,” Ronan whispered, his lips barely movin g. There is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

“Itaque imus ad astra, per aspera,” Adam replied, barely thinking about it. So we go through hardships to the stars.

Ronan visibly started at his use of Latin. Adam smirked as if you say you’re not the only one with a posh education.

“Shooting for the stars, Highness?”

Rona turned his eyes back to the sole bright star. “I might as well be.”

“I’d doubt whatever it is that’s bothering you is as hopeless as that.”

Adam couldn’t take his eyes off of Ronan, noting the way his lips thinned. “Oh, but it is. In my position. In my life.”

“Non ergo qui in vobis sunt terminum tibi.”

Ronan turned his head toward Adam again, and Adam felt a spark of fear over what he might do if he turned his head to meet Ronan’s eyes, blue as a never-ending lake stretching on and on until he drowned against the sand.

He turned his head anyway. The stars suspended above them, the leaves ceasing to rustle and shuffle, the party inside fading away until everyone disappeared into nothingness. Ronan lifted one hand from the railing and slid it along Adam’s cheek, his skin heating and jolting at the touch like Ronan himself was made of electricity and stardust, like the galaxies that Adam had once been were meeting their long lost particles in Ronan’s hand. In Ronan’s eyes, he could have sworn he heard words turning over and over.

Adam heard him whisper, then, the words that must have been bouncing in his head. “Pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death,” he muttered, the tail-end of something Adam couldn’t quite place. He parted his lips to speak just before Ronan kissed him.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, he didn’t worry that he was kissing someone - kissing Ronan . For once in his life, he forgot about everything else. He didn’t worry about anyone inside or what anyone might think. That would come later.

Ronan’s lips pressed to his, and he tried to string a coherent thought together but was instead met with abstract, overjoyed ideas floating aimlessly in his brain instead. 

The press of Ronan against him was hard, sharp lines and corners poking into his chest and his hips and his legs, but his lips were soft and Adam tasted whiskey and powdered sugar on Ronan’s tongue and Ronan’s teeth flashed against his lip and he thought he might die, that the feeling may kill him if he did that again.

He didn’t have a chance to test that hypothesis, because Ronan pulled back and stepped away so quickly Adam almost fell forward onto his face. And then he hurried away, leaving Adam standing like an idiot outside of the White House ballroom at a party he was supposed to be hosting after just kissing a male member of the monarchy.

His only thought was, absently, if they’d kissed at midnight.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #295

i’m not listening to music so am blanking on lyrics to put here lol

Who’s your favorite rapper? And your favorite song by this rapper? Eminem. "Cinderella Man" is probably my favorite, or "Space Bound." How about your favorite band? And your favorite song by this band? Ozzy Osbourne, if I had to pick solely one. God, picking a favorite song, though... idk, maybe "Trap Door," but it's almost impossible for me to decide. Have you ever had the cops called on you? For what? No. Would you rather be home alone, or have people with you? Why? I'd rather have people home, but alone in my room. I just feel less lonely. Have you ever dropped a class in school? Which class, and why did it suck? I dropped some class in college that I can't remember the name of... I completely misjudged what it would be like. I had absolutely zero interest. I feel like I've dropped another, too? Have you ever taken someone back, who ended up just hurting you again? No. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Nicole. What was the last thing you printed? Is there even ink in your printer? Something for school, I'm sure. Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? Who were you with? Yeah, my driving instructor in HS. Have you ever been in handcuffs? Why, exactly? Yeah, to be transported from the ER to psych hospitals, as well as handcuffs among other restraints when going to court to explain why I was eligible for an earlier discharge from the hospital. That's one of the scariest experiences of my life, feeling like a bound lunatic. Have you ever had to be put to sleep at a hospital? Why? Yeah, for two surgeries. Do you actually have a calendar on your wall? What are the pictures of? I have two old meerkat ones that are just for decoration. Have you ever been on a cruise? How many? Where did they go? No. Do you have a favorite author? No. Does your significant other boss you around a lot? I don't have one, but I wouldn't tolerate that shit. Do you know anyone who has overdosed? Me, but I obviously lived. I think I've loosely or distantly known people who weren't so lucky. Are you a fan of PDA (public displays of affection)? As long as it's not too intense, I think it's sweet. It's beautiful to see love expressed. When was the last time you went bowling? A few years ago for Girt and my first date. Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? I do. Have you ever written anything longer than 10 pages? Yes, for school essays. I think my longest was about toxic masculinity. I'm actually really proud of it; I think my instructor used it as an example for her next semester's students, given that I was notified of an influx of views on it. Do you have any names picked out for your future children? What are they? Hypothetically speaking, if I had a daughter, Alessandra is her name, period, lol. I would like to name my never-happening son Damien, but I'd be more open to suggestions from my partner. Have you ever been given a lapdance by an actual stripper? Oh yikes, no thank you. Do you have/want any piercings? I have a good number and seriously want more. What side of the bed do you sleep on? More towards the left. Who is the last person you told a secret to? Nicole, about Misty coming down here for a visit. Have you ever been on an island? Yes, just off the NC coast during a 4th grade school vacation. It was amazing and even had wild horses. What's your favorite job you've ever had? I guess GameStop was the best, since I was actually interested in what I worked with. Do you have any vacations planned? No. Do you enjoy getting manicures/pedicures? How often do you get them? I mean it's nice I guess, but it's not something I'd spend money on. Have you yelled at anyone today, and why? No. Do you own anything with your state or providence's name on it? No. Do you like the Paranormal Activity movies? Yeah. Paranormal is my favorite subgenre of horror. What's your favorite way to eat peanut butter? On waffles, haha. Do you like bows? Yeah, they're cute. Have you ever made a 'haul' YouTube video? No. Has a boyfriend ever made you breakfast? Yeah, that was quite ordinary with Jason since his original intention was to be a chef. What do you gather your change in? My wallet. Do you like to play Angry Birds? I never have. The movie was cute, tho. Do you like Cheez-Its? Oh GOD. I looooove Cheez-Its and they need to be kept away from me to avoid bingeing on them. Have you ever been pulled aside for a random bag search at an airport? I don't think so, no. What’s your favorite flavor of Jell-O? Watermelon, I think? Or strawberry? Do you have any games on your computer? Which ones? On my personal laptop, I have World of Warcraft, Alien: Isolation, Resident Evil 6, and both Amnesia games. I think that's it. What's a musical instrument you think sounds really beautiful? Violins. Do you have a favorite type of pasta? (like a shape of noodles, not dish) I'm not particular about this, really. What's the coolest natural event you've ever witnessed? Maybe the blood moon. Are there any waterfalls near where you live? No, just dams. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? I know people who have had smaller works published, but calling them an "author" feels odd since it's not their actual career or anything. Is that rude? Do you own a polaroid camera? No, but that'd be cool. Do you think you’ll ever end up in rehab? No. Who’s your favorite Kardashian sister? I don't have an opinion. Is there someone you absolutely cannot stand but have to tolerate? My sister's husband. "Absolutely cannot stand" might be a bit strong, but... Do you want to go to pregnancy classes? If I was to ever be pregnant, no. My mom would be able to answer all things related to this, haha. Do you ever cringe at the thought of living in a disgusting house? Yes. What color are your bathroom towels? We have a variety. How often do you let cleavage show? I'm not very revealing, but I'm also not self-conscious of allowing some. Does vintage stuff appeal to you? Yes! Where do you want to go? I'd love to visit Sara again, but not so long as Covid hangs around. Have you ever had feelings for two people at the same time? Something like that with Jason and Juan before I chose Jason. I don't even really know if I like-liked Juan versus just being flattered by him. Would you ever throw out or give away something an ex gave you? I mean, what's the item in question? And are we on good terms (not that that would always matter)? What's the biggest annoyance in your life right now? Right now, Covid. I know, surprising I didn't say "not having a job," but so long Covid is an issue, I don't think I would be comfortable having one. I can't bring that shit home to my weak mother. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? Mom. What do you want right this second? To actually be skinny again. It's hard to believe in my teens I thought I wasn't. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? I'm actually quite the opposite... It's sad, I know I'd have less trouble losing weight if I could just stop drinking it regularly. Have you ever been afraid to get up and go to the bathroom? ... No...? Have you ever paid for any kind of online membership? I don't believe so, no. Who’d you last see in a tux? Hm. Probably when I shot a wedding. Out of everyone you know, who has the most heart? Uhhhh I dunno. Who’s the bravest person you know? Probably my mom. Who would you want to have your back if things got tough? Again, my mother. Have you ever dated someone who was really sporty? Nah. Are you any good at writing? I think so. What’s your favorite form of writing? I don't know if it counts as a "form" as much as it is a subject, but RP. Writing with characters you yourself have created and actually engaging with other's inventions is very fun. Have you ever done something terrible, but took forever to feel bad? Yes, over things I'd said to Jason following the breakup. It literally took years because I was so convinced it was all justified. What did you dream about last night? I don't remember. Sure feels great though that my nightmares are chilling out. What profession do you admire the most? That's tough, but probably those that put their lives on the line for others, like firefighters. I also have massive respect for people like doctors, given all the time and work they put into their education to become one and help others. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? No. Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Well, seeing as I was an initial homophobe that eventually realized I was bisexualllll... Do you have a garden at your house? No. Do you like making puppet figures with your shadow? When I was a kid, sure. Have you ever played strip poker or would you ever? No, but I won't say absolutely never if I was just with my s/o. It's not something I'm actually interested in doing, though. Would you date someone who didn’t want to have sex until they were married? Yep. Would you date someone who went to church on a regular basis? To be totally honest, I don't know if me and a person that actively religious would work out, but I'd try it, ig. What is your favorite curse word? I say "fuck" way too much lmao. It's an intense word and I'm a passionate person, lol. What movie do you know just about every line from? None. Do you prefer cupcakes or muffins? Cupcakes. What are the three “nevers” of your life? To name just a few that I'm absolutely certain about, I'd never do hard drugs, commit murder (unless in self-defense, but is that even "murder?"), or abuse somebody. Last board game you played? I think it was "Sorry!" when I was babysitting Ryder. Last card game you played? Christ, Uno. My niece went through a phase of like obsessively playing it with me because I would let her win. Last thing you got for free? Christmas gifts. How long have you been tattooed? If you’re not, do you want to get tattooed? I got my first tat the day I turned 18. Last baby shower? My sister's last year. Last wedding? A repeat photography client's. Her family is lovely. Last funeral? I don't think I've been to a funeral (not wake) since I was maybe a preteen and my childhood babysitter died... It's sad that I didn't go to my grandmother's, but I didn't really have that choice. What is your band’s name? Or fantasy band ;)? Haha, my Rock Band one was "Bullets and Butterflies." How many different strip clubs have you been to? None. Do you have any nieces/nephews? Technically a lot, but only three are regular parts of my life. How many cars have you ever owned? Me personally, none. Can you do math in your head well? ABSOLUTELY not. Who is your favorite Star Wars character? I only care about the Ewoks ok. I'm not a fan of the franchise. Have you ever been to a bachelor/bachelorette party? No. Have you ever bailed anyone out of jail? No. Have you ever given someone a fake phone number? No. Do you have any bumper stickers on your car? N/A Have you ever gone golfing? Only mini-golfing as a kid. Well, and on an anniversary date with Jason. Actual golfing doesn't interest me. If you became famous for something, what would it be? To be entirely realistic versus idealistic, probably something I wrote. How many friends do you have that are married? A whole lot. Do you still have your wisdom teeth? Yes. When you were a kid, were you ever afraid of cooties? No, it was just a playful joke. Do you ever go Christmas caroling in December? No. Do you like mango? Mango flavored stuff, oh yes. I don't like actual mangos; they're too mushy. What was the last thing you got falsely accused of? I don't know. Have you ever been kicked out of a store? No. What does caffeine do to you? Nothing, really. I think I'm too accustomed to it being in my system. Would other people describe you as creative? Very. Would you rather paint or carve a pumpkin? Hm, maybe paint. Names of best friends you've had: Brianna, Kimberly, Jenna, Megan, Mini, Sara... I don't remember them all. Were you one of the smartest in your class? Through most of my school experience, yes. Will you let your kids have a YouTube channel, do you think? If I wanted kids, it would depend on their age and what they were making. Have you ever owned a designer purse? No. Do you like the taste of Tums? Taste, yes. Chalky texture, fuck no. I like the chewy ones, though. Are you currently learning a new language? No. What culture are you most interested in learning about? Maybe Indian? Do you own anything skull print? Oh, loads of stuff. Who are the three people you consider yourself closest to? Mom, Sara, and uh... Dad. Do you like crackers with your soup? Soggy crackers are gross. I don't really like soup, anyway. Which ex of yours means the most to you? Sara. What is something that never fails to make you feel accomplished? Cleaning. Do wooded areas freak you out in the evening or night? No, I love 'em. Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle? No, I'm not comfortable with the idea of riding one. Do you iron any of your clothes? No. Do you think long, straight hair is pretty? Yes, if it's healthy. Do you have a fireplace in your home? Yes. Did you have a class pet in grade school? No. Have you ever owned an aquarium? No. Do you prefer mints or gum? I'd say gum. Popsicles or fudgesicles? Ohhh, fudgesicles. What is your favorite flavor of hot pockets? I only even moderately enjoy the ham and cheese ones. Do you like apple juice? Yeah, but there's definitely better juices.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Badass Portfolio (Borderlands Playlist)

Playlist dedicated to @notaliteraltoad​

I feel like every author has their thingy they do every time they write something - some drink coffee, some listen to a TV, and I? I have music. Music influenced more than 90% of my writings, sometimes the chapter is named after a song, sometimes the lyrics are mentioned or directly inspire the dialogue.

And with that, let's have a look at The Pieces of the People We Love, my beloved Borderlands Series with a playlist and a slight commentary from the author herself. Also, it can help during the quarantine when you don’t have new tunes to listen to! :)

There is, of course, The Rapture song Pieces of the People We Love which started it all. To admit, I first heard this song when I played Tales from the Borderlands for the first time... And holy hell, I love it. But why did I picked this song to be the main one for this series?

Well... The first reason is obvious: it was used during the road trip montage and since then, this damn song is the one I always play on a road trip. Second - the lyrics are something that has an amazing meaning. Everyone interprets them to their liking, but to me, holy moly - a song about lovers who can't be together done in such a way? And the fact that they sing that everyone has a piece of someone inside that we want to hide? I'm all over it.

Before we characterize the main characters, let's focus on the Y/N's playlist itself:

Hold On by The Animal Fiction

Let Me Live/Let Me Die by Des Rocs

who dat boi by bbno$ & so loki

tony th-t by bbno$

Pieces of the People We Love by Rapture

Shit Just Got Real by Die Antwoord

Feel Good Inc. by Gorillaz

Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes

I Can't Stop by Flux Pavilion

As- LIke That by Eminem

Most of these songs are in the playlist for one particular reason - Y/N is a huntress and listens to it mostly while she’s triying to kill one or two Skags in a Runner provided by Catch-a-Ride™. I don't exactly see why she’d listen to normal pop songs since she's living on Pandora and... Pandora is no way like today's world. These tunes may sound a bit harsh, but... Yeah. Also, this is only the scratch, a highligh if you will, there's much more tunes. 

Now, we have Y/N's songs here:

It’s not like I think that she’s an egocentric sociopath, no - in fact, she’s not even my original character in the end. But... This reader is not a soft baby princess you kiss and she falls apart. No. She was living on Pandora long enough to become a bloody badass (she has a metal arm, dude) and this bitch isn’t holding back anything. She does not like you? She will just tell you. And Scooter needs this kind of a woman.

mememe by bbno$ & Lentra

Snap Out Of It by Arctic Monkeys

Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked by Cage the Elephant

Lone Digger by Caravan Palace

She Wants Me Dead by Cazzette, The High and AronChupa

Now, let’s have a look at Scooter:

He’s a lovely, dumb dude, this Scooter. He has a romantic soul and a heart of gold, fear of robots, ince*t relationships (only distantly related gals can apply), pretty thick redneck accent and he likes cars, girls, and cars (exactly in this order, don’t mess it up). He doesn’t know what a second base is. I decided to approach him as the gentle soul he is, to show how naïve and nice he can be... I fell in love with that boy. So even the songs, naturally, are more romance-focused.

The Less I Know The Better by Tame Impala

Amour plastique by VIDEOCLUB

Stolen Dance by Milky Chance

Shut Up And Drive by Rihanna

Genius by Diplo, Sia and Labrinth

Finally, we have their mutual relationship:

They start as strangers forced together by destiny (or a Bandit boss, pick whichever you want). Slowly, they become friends, or something like that because Y/N doesn’t do friendships when Scooter helps her with her fear of rockets. Over time, she tells him why doesn’t she want a part in the Vault Hunter life and why did she have to have her arm amputated only as a child. Scooter doesn’t tell her any secrets, because he can barely keep any since the first moment they meet. And for the love of God, he keeps telling everyone that Y/N is his girlfriend. But no-one believes a shit he says.

To The Top by Twin Shadow

Friends by Marshmallo and Anne-Marie

Lost It To Trying by Son Lux

Myrtle Beach Summer 1974 by Yung Gravy and bbno$

Eyes on Fire by Blue Foundation (Is this a rather subtle Twilight refernce?)

And last, but not least, the relationship in the Vault Hunter group:

There’s a lot of elements to work within this team, my dudes. Like Lilith talking 24/7, Brick and Mordy being Brick and Mordy, Roland being dead and stuff, the whole Sir Hammerlock thing along with his fiancé, Moxxi being herself... But I overall like the team dynamic they can bring onto the table when they’re trying their best. Like when they’re trying not to have the universe blown up and stuff.. 

Bubble Shit by ,AMCO, Victor Sheen and Fosco Alma

Paper Planes by M.I.A.

What Makes a Good Man? by The Heavy

Girl On Fire (Inferno Version) by Alicia Keys and Nicki Minaj

Party by Myself by Hollywood Undead

Thrift Shop by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis

Talk to Lilith by Oboeshoes (aka the VH group theme song they sing every time they have to talk to LIlith)

 Everywhere I Go by Hollywood Undead

Happy Together by The Turtles

Do It LIke a Dude by Jessie J (one for all the strong women who have to put up with men’s constant bullshit, like Maya, Ellie, Moxxi, Janey Springs or Athena)

And a bonus one:

Fuck you by the one and only, Lily Allen

[sellyripley]

Layover in Paradise (Fan Fic)

Title: Layover in Paradise

Fandom: Robot Trains (no crossovers) 

Word Count: 1,857

Summary: After his self sacrificing effort to save Train World by helping Kay reach the Alpha Train’s cargo, Duke awakens in an empty white space and meets a mysterious stranger.  

Warnings: Near death experience, reincarnation, existential stuff. 

Characters: Duke, a mysterious stranger, (also minor appearances by Kay, Selly, Alf, Moss and Das)

Pairings: None

Author’s Note: This fic is basically meant to bridge the first and second season. I was disappointed with how the second season retconned all of Duke's great character development and made him into the bad guy. This story is meant to put a better spin on Duke's plight. This is probably the only non-horror/non-tragic thing I’ve written since the fourth grade. I’ve done it out of my great love for Duke because honestly enough horrifying and tragic things have happened to him.

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

Duke could feel his engine dangerously overheating as he pushed Kay towards the Alpha Train’s cargo.

Duke knew he could not survive absorbing any more of the Alpha Train’s energy, but Kay would be able to use that energy to defeat the virus clone invasion threatening Train World’s demise.

Right, wrong, or otherwise, Duke couldn’t help feeling responsible for the calamity that had befallen Train World since he’d been infected with the virus.

Maybe it wasn’t his fault. But maybe… maybe he could have done something differently. Maybe if he’d just allowed himself to go into sleep mode when his platform first warned him of a virus. Or if he’d never felt jealous of Kay in the first place, maybe the virus wouldn’t have been able to turn him against Kay the way it did. Or maybe…if he’d just resisted the virus a little harder, somehow.  

But dwelling on self-blame was no use at this point. All he knew was that he had to do whatever it took to put things right. He couldn’t fail this time. Even if that meant sacrificing himself.

Besides, no one would miss him. Except maybe Becky. Everyone else had been willing to evacuate to safety leaving him locked up in his base as the virus clones drained all remaining energy from Fountain Plaza…

He engaged his boosters and struggled to overcome the repelling force emanating from the Alpha Train’s cargo as he continued to push forward, disregarding all warnings from his platform and confident that – this time – it was the right decision. 

Finally, Kay made contact with the cargo. Time seemed to slow down as Duke was thrown backwards. He shut his eyes, thankful that he’d succeeded in this final mission and hopeful that, though he wouldn’t be there to see it, peace could finally be restored to Train World.

There was nothing but black and silence for a moment.

Then Duke opened his eyes. He was in his train form, he felt almost as though he’d been sleeping and was awakening from a dream.

Duke looked around in surprise, and inched forward.

He found himself in a seemingly infinite white space.

“Hm. Looks like some kind of training simulation.” He said

Another train suddenly approached. She was lavender colored with silver accent and dark eyes. Duke did not recognize her but she did not appear imposing nor particularly remarkable.

He wondered if she was as surprised to find herself here as he was.

“Hey.” Said Duke “What is this place?”

“Paradise.” Said the stranger in a decisive but genial tone.

“Hmph. Well, it doesn’t look like much to me.” Replied Duke a little bemused and questioning whether this stranger would be of any help.

Duke transformed into his robot form and took stock of his surroundings, casting about for some clue as to what was going on. Nothing. Nothing at all in any direction. Just this stranger.

“That’s because,” replied the stranger “There are no solutions here.”

Now that cryptic remark got Duke’s attention.

“What do you mean by that?” Asked Duke intrigued.

“There are no solutions here because there are no problems. But, you’re not ready for a place with no problems. It takes a long time to be ready for a place with no problems and no solutions.

Everyone thinks they’re ready, but almost no one is. People want to feel helpful. And to feel helped. And with no problems, that isn’t possible. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Duke wasn’t sure how to answer that. Considering the magnitude of the problems he’d faced of late, it felt like a trick question. Duke just stared at the stranger, suspiciously.

Duke wasn’t sure if she was a robot train or just a normal train. There were no tracks here, but she remained in train form. As though she was on invisible tracks in this land of nothingness. She did not seem bothered either by the surreal surroundings nor by his presence.

She continued “I think you are, however, ready for some simpler problems. Problems that are not so serious and are easy to resolve. You and your friends have overcome a lot of difficult tests lately. And it’s time for you all to get a break.”

“Tests?” Asked Duke.

“Yes.” Said the stranger “Even though you have no memory of it, everyone lives life after life. Each life you live is like a training exercise that you’re meant to overcome before you can move on to the next level.

You and everyone in Train World is now ready to move on to your next lives. And, this time, you’ll all be going to the same place. It actually won’t be too different from Train World. But things will be easier. Simpler. More joyful.”

“Who are you?” Duke asked.

The stranger gave a small laugh “That question isn’t easy to answer since when you’re ready to understand it, you won’t need to ask. I’m different things to different individuals. You perceive me as a train, but I think you know that perception has more to do with you than with me.

But right now, most importantly, I’m someone with a mission for you, if you choose to accept it.”

Duke replied “What kind of…mission…could you possibly need performed in this ‘new, easier, more joyful’ world you’re talking about?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you to go on a mission…to cause trouble. You’ve earned quite a lot of experience at it by now you see.”

“But,” protested Duke “I didn’t want to cause trouble. I didn’t want to do any of those things.”

“I know,” replied the stranger. “But, surely you must realize that the problems you caused in your most recent life strengthened everyone else and helped them overcome their challenges and pass their tests!”

Duke understood now. This was going to be an easier, happier, better life…for everyone else. As for him, he was still going to be mistrusted and alone.”

“I know what you’re thinking!” said the stranger with a wink.

“But you won’t have to be alone this time. You’re going to have a family to make mischief with. And, the trouble you cause this time isn’t going to do any real harm to anyone. This isn’t going to be the sort of world where anyone gets truly hurt. Your trouble making will be more like…friendly rivalry.

And this time I’m giving you the option of remembering! Remembering your previous life and remembering this conversation so that you can keep the perspective that what you’re doing is actually for everyone’s benefit!

Honestly, I think you’ll have fun.”

Duke thought about it for a moment a family… Duke had never really been one for social niceties and decorum anyway. If he could enrich other’s lives by stirring up a little harmless trouble maybe this mission would be a good fit for him after all. Especially if it meant that he’d finally fit in somewhere. That he’d finally have a family.

As he considered this prospect a concerning thought occurred to him.

“Wait.” Said Duke, with growing concern. “So, we’re all about to start our new lives? Everyone in Train World? So then that means… We lose? We lose the fight with the virus clones!?”

The stranger, perhaps being too far removed from the nature of worldly attachments to relate, seemed surprised by Duke’s apparent distress.

“Well… You’re all going to a better place afterwards so what’s the difference? Defeating the virus clones wasn’t the test. You were each facing tests of character, which you’ve all passed with flying colors. The test is over, so now you’re all ready to move on.”  

Duke was not consoled. He thought back to everything he’d done to try to right his missteps. Anger and regret tinged his voice

“So then I failed!? Everyone dies?”

“Well…that is usually how one life ends and another begins. A new life just suddenly…starting without any sort of conclusion to the previous one would be a bit of a non sequitur, wouldn’t it?”

“So what!?” Replied Duke

The stranger seemed caught off guard by Duke’s reply, and more than a little amused. “So what…?” She considered for a moment

“So what indeed!” She laughed “Ok, Duke, I admire your faith in the seemingly impossible. Well…then, if it were up to you, what would you want to accomplish before you all start your next lives?”

Duke thought for a moment.

“I need to help Kay finish the intercontinental rail road construction. I’ve got to do it right this time, the way I was going to…the way it should have been.”

The stranger laughed. “Ok Duke, if that’s what you want you’ve got it. As I said, you’ve earned a break. And this test is essentially over so you can have a little fun with the remaining time.

But remember, just this one last thing and then your new lives will just…start.

No deaths, just…a new life in a simpler, happier place. And no one will remember any of this except for you. Remember your mission!”

“Agreed!” Said Duke.

The stranger and the white room suddenly disappeared. Now there was nothing but blackness and silence. Distantly, Duke heard his name being called.

“Duke?” “Duke, can you hear us?”

Duke opened his eyes to see that he was in Selly’s base, tools strewn about the floor. Selly and Alf were standing in front of him.

“Yay! He’s awake!” Said Selly.

“Duke, you saved us all! You saved Train World!” Shouted Alf, a slight hitch in his voice as he choked back emotion, relieved and overjoyed at Duke’s revival.

Before Duke knew it, it was time again for the opening ceremony of the intercontinental railroad. As he linked up to Kay, he tried to put the disturbing memories of the previous attempt’s events out of his mind.

This time things went perfectly. Flying through space with Kay’s magnetic levitation wheels felt exhilarating. Duke felt happy and helpful. Finally he was able to put right what had gone wrong.

As Kay constructed the connecting tracks a brilliant blue light filled Duke’s field of vision. It got brighter and brighter like a brightening blue sky peeking in through the window at dawn.

Duke heard his name being called. He opened his eyes to see two robot trains standing in front of him, one blue and one green.

“Come on Duke, we’ve got to go steal those energy balls!”

Duke felt dazed for a moment. “Steal energy balls!?”

He thought back on Kay and the Fountain Plaza and the intercontinental rail road construction.

Then he regarded these two funny looking trains in front of him. He felt as though he recognized them.

Slowly, a lifetime’s worth of memories flooded him. Memories of a lifetime spent in this silly but cheerful world.

Suddenly he burst out laughing.

“Hahaha! Steal energy balls!” He playfully pulled each of his brothers into an embrace and said “Ok boys, this is very important work. Let’s go steal those energy balls!” then ran off. Moss and Das looked at each other and shrugged then followed after Duke.

Duke had a feeling he would enjoy playing this new role in this new life. 

[ashtray-girl]

could you recommend the books/poetry that inspired morrisseys writing?? i’m curious to read some but don’t know where i’d find that information. thank you!

Sure!

First of all, Oscar Wilde. Morrissey repeatedly namechecked him as his favourite author. Personally, I’ve only read “The Portrait of Dorian Gray”, “De Profundis” and “The Uncollected Oscar Wilde”. If you haven’t yet read anything of his, I’d suggest you start with Dorian Gray.

Then of course, Elizabeth Smart. I’ve previously talked about how Morrissey used her novella “By Grand Central Station I Sat Down And Wept” as a source of inspiration for many of his songs. She also wrote a sequel called “The Assumption Of The Rogues & Rascals”, which I didn’t think was as good, but it’s still relatively short and you can easily read it in one sitting once you get used to her somewhat flamboyant writing style. I’ve also got a copy of her diaries, which is called “Necessary Secrets”, but I haven’t read it yet.

Next, we have Shelagh Delaney. In 1986, Morrissey said: “I’ve never made any secret of the fact that at least 50 per cent of my reason for writing can be blamed on Shelagh Delaney.“ The lyrics of This Night Has Opened My Eyes are a retelling of the plot of her play “A Taste of Honey“, with many direct quotes. She’s even on the cover of Louder Than Bombs! Unfortunately, I haven’t read any of her works.

Then we have A. E. Housman, a poet. I’ve talked about his role on Morrissey’s writing here.

No biographers (that I know of) ever mentioned him, and the connection might be tenuous, but I’m gonna include him anyway: W. H. Auden. Specifically, his poem “The Mirror and the Sea”. I’ve explained why here.

Then of course, Hermann Melville. Specifically “Billy Budd”, but also “John Marr and Other Poems”. You can check out his poem “John Marr and Other Sailors” here.

Radclyffe Hall. Specifically, her novel “The Well of Loneliness”, which is one of the best, most heartwrenching LGBT books I’ve ever read. I’m not gonna spoil the plot for you, but I urge you to read it if you have the chance.

Alan Bennett. I’ve wanted to read some of his stuff for years and quite a few people recommended him to me, but I’ve yet to get down to it. The line “That’s what tradition means” in I Started Something… was taken from his play “Forty Years On”, and the title Alsatian Cousin also comes from there, with the original line being: “I was distantly related to the Woolf family through some Alsatian cousins”. Also, and this is the most interesting part imo, his TV play “Me, I’m Afraid of Virginia Woolf”, which is about a subtle gay love story, contains the line “Nature has a language, you see, if only we’d learn to read it”, which was no doubt used by Morrissey as inspo for Ask. (”Nature is a language, can’t you read?”).

John Betjeman, another poet. I haven’t read anything of his, but it’s said that his poem “Slough” was the main source of inspiration for Everyday Is Like Sunday. Funfact: he was bi and a disciple of Oscar Wilde.

Jean Cocteau. French poet, writer, playwright, artist and filmmaker. The cover of This Charming Man was sourced from his film Orphée and the cover of Hatful of Hollow was taken from a special edition of the French newspaper Libération, commemorating the 20th anniversary of his death. I’ve been wanting to read “The White Book” for a while but I can’t find it anywhere, and I feel like it would be very interesting to get even further insight on Morrissey’s psyche.

Pier Paolo Pasolini. Italian writer, poet and filmmaker. I’m ashamed to say I’ve never read anything of his (I did visit his grave tho!). Anyway, Morrissey mentions him in You Have Killed Me and - indirectly - in Life Is A Pigsty, (the title probably coming from his movie Porcile, which is Italian for Pigsty). Definitely check him out if you have the chance, he lived a very interesting albeit tragic life and he’s still seen as an important, pioneering if not controversial figure here in Italy.

Popcorn Venus. This is a 1973 feminist film study by Marjorie Rosen. Morrissey used several films which the text refers to as song titles. Namely, The Hand That Rocks The Cradle, Little Man, What Now?, Angel, Ange, Down We Go [Together]. When talking about the 60s ‘beach-party’ genre (don’t ask me what that is, I literally have no idea), there’s a quote that goes: “How immediately can we be gratified? How soon is ‘now’?”, which Morrissey probably used as inspo for his eponymous song. Rosen also describes Anita Ekberg ‘reeling around the fountain’ in Fellini’s La Dolce Vita.Other possible lyrical sources in the book may include: “Who would subjugate whom? Who would crack the whip?” (Handsome Devil), “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the flame of women’s rage” (These Things Take Time).

From Reverence To Rape. 1974 book by American film critic Molly Haskell.Morrissey borrowed several lines from it, including:“[she] double-crossed him, not once but twice.” (Miserable Lie)“But even then she knew where she had come from and where she belonged” (These Things Take Time)“Samantha Eggar who, as Terence Stamp’s captive, is pinned and mounted like one of his butterflies” (Reel Around The Fountain)“Films like Mr. Skeffington oscillate wildly in mood” (Oscillate Wildly)“Each woman will be half a person” (Half A Person).

Finally… I’ve kept this one for last because I just found out about it as I was writing this and I find it EXTREMELY interesting and revealing:

George Eliot. Born Mary Anne Evans, she chose a male pen name to be taken seriously by the 19th century male-dominated literary establishment.Morrissey quoted from her most famous work, Middlemarch, in How Soon Is Now?, adapting its line: “Born the son of a Middlemarch manufacturer, and inevitable heir to nothing in particular.”Now, here comes the part I find most interesting… I’m just gonna fully quote it from Mozipedia (which btw is where I found most of the info I collected here):“Eliot spent much of her adult life in a then scandalous relationship with critic and philosopher George Henry Lewes who, technically, was still married to another woman.The vinyl run-out-groove of Morrissey’s 1990 single Piccadilly Palare also contained the cryptic message that ‘George Eliot knew’.”… now, I don’t know about you, but I definitely have my own ideas of what exactly is that George Eliot ‘knew’ and why Morrissey thought it was important to let people know about it, but I digress.

Anyway, there you have it! Hope this was helpful!And let me know if you decide to read any of the books mentioned here!

[caseybanning]

found.

(Ambition: Nemesis spoilers through 120 ahead)

A blink. A blast of frigid air rushes through, cutting through their coat and making them stumble on their own feet. The wind picks up again and Casey braces against it, trying to turn away in a different direction. Their breath is coming out in ragged gasps that seem to freeze in mid-air, and finally they open their eyes to the glittering expanse of the zee. They're stunned by the sight of it's black waves, the way the false-stars shimmered on it's surface... Casey brings their freezing hands up to their face and sees their trembling fingers are stark white. They glance around as they cup their hands together in front of their mouth, trying to huff warm air onto them, but stop moving as they look up.

There is a gap in the cavern roof. Above, the stars remained exactly in place. Not one speck moved along the ceiling.

The wind rushes through once more and Casey whips back around, looking up to see an impossibly large gate standing before them. Winged statues flocked either side, every inch coated in a thick layer of ice. Around them, on giant crags surrounding the gate and the island, a faint orange glow could be seen projecting up toward the sky. Sand crunched underfoot as they started backing away from the gate toward the dock.

Wherever this was, it certainly was not London. A nervous, bitter metallic taste was at the back of their throat, coupled with a prickling feeling of pain over their tongue. By they time they make their way on board the ship (dazed crew members only now starting to take notice of their presence), the temperature on the island is unbearable.

"Can someone stoke the fires on this bloody thing?!" Casey shouts, their voice cracking. Their tongue felt wrong in their mouth, almost swollen, and their face flinches in pain as they speak. Casey hurries across the deck as they reach the other side of the ship out to Zee, and a crew member--his face completely unfamiliar--follows after.

"We need to leave." He says. "We can't stay North for long."

"Who is the captain?" Casey asks.

"You, now."

The wind cuts through the silence again, sending the man shivering into the cramped quarters inside. Casey remains standing on the deck for a minute longer, their teeth chattering as they tried to trace their steps back. How could they have gone North?

The prickling pain on their tongue is sharper by the moment. At their side, another unrecognizable crewman is gathering whoever is left for departure.

"Ready when you are," He says.

"Get us out of here," Casey says, and then turns away from him. "Excuse me a moment..."

The ship's quarters are labyrinthine in nature. Tallulah, parked safe back in London, was nothing like this old unfamiliar steamer. It takes several frustrated minutes of wandering through regrettably narrow passages before they find a lavatory. Before anyone can say anything else to them, Casey pries open the door and slams it shut behind them. It's warmer in there, but not by much. Their breath is still visible as they cross the distance between the door and the plain, grimy mirror bolted to the wall. Their hands shake as they wipe it off with their sleeve.

Dark circles under their eyes. Hair uncombed, naturally, from the atrocious wind. Gently, Casey prods their lips with the tips of their fingers and finally opens their mouth to inspect their tongue.

There, inked into the center of their tongue, is a menacing symbol. Claw-like spires fanned out from the center-most point, the ink looking just a day or two fresh. Casey tests the swelling on their tongue with their finger and winces, and tears start to well up in their eyes. The ship begins to move and Casey braces their hands against the basin, trying to keep their breathing as steady as possible. They had just been in London a moment ago, right?

Amongst the ledgers and lists of supplies was a travel log in their own writing, indicating a date farther in the future then they'd expect: a month passed in the span of a wink. A month. The Lady in Lilac was nowhere to be seen, not in any bunk or otherwise. She had disappeared as quickly as the time had passed.

--

The constable across from them has bright eyes and a flush on his face, possibly from the excitement of such a case dropping into his lap. When he looks up, he seems impossibly young and well-rested. By contrast, with Casey's numb, exhausted stare back, they start to distantly think they must look old to him. He seems nervous to begin, his hands occupied with re-ordering the notes on the case before he collects his confidence. He sits up straighter and removes his hat. Casey waits, pulling their blanket (kindly handed to them by the secretary at the front) tighter over their shoulders.

"I'm going to ask you some questions relating to what happened to you." He says. Casey nods, looking down at the table. They entwine their fingers together, ball their hands up in fists, and finally drop them into their lap out of view. The constable waits a moment before before continuing.

"Before your disappearance you had written on the subject of love. It got quite a lot of attention."

"Yes," Casey whispers.

"Can you tell me what you remember after that?"

They close their eyes. The memory of opening their door jumps so quickly to the next one a month later it's as if someone has ripped entire chapters out of a book's binding. "I had a, ehm.." They stop and cover their mouth, trying to shield it from what they're saying. "I had a visitor at the door."

"Did you know who it was?"

"Not personally." They reply. "But I was waiting for her."

"How so?"

Casey shakes their head. "I can't tell you who she is."

The constable shifts in his seat. "Can I call you Banning?"

"Please don't," They said flatly. "If you must, just use my first name."

"Casey," He begins. "If you have information about who she is, including her name, it's important to the case."

"I can't tell you because I don't know her actual name," Their hand drops from their face and for the first time in this conversation their expression is pained. "I don't think anybody knows her name, but we know of her."

"Who?" The constable asks.

"Lilac."

He leans back in the chair, giving a questioning glance to his partner standing guard over the conversation. The second constable, a much older and gruffer fellow, motioned for him to continue. Casey held their head in their hands and didn't move, barely even stirring as the younger officer began his questions again.

"She came to your door, and then?"

Casey shrugs. "The next thing I remember is being the coldest I've ever been, and we were not in London." They pause. "The crew said we had gone North. I don't--" Their gaze shocks up, frightened. "I don't--I don't do that, I'm not one of them, I don't have any interest in trying to find any name, it's not like that--"

"Calm down," The constable urges gently. "Slowly. Specifically, what we were able to learn is that you found yourself at the Avid Horizon. Think very carefully now," He says. "Is there anybody you know or may have known that would have wanted to take you there?"

"No."

"Do you know anybody who has gone there before?"

"To my knowledge, no."

The constable taps his pencil against the table, glancing again up at his partner for answers. He reshuffles the notes and continues, practically reading straight from the paper. His expression is grim as he begins.

"During the investigation, we took a look at your own case file from previous incidents. What we found was a previous missing persons report filed for you years ago. At the time, the officer had already gained information from the Surface..." The officer starts flipping through his pages, and Casey slowly looks up.

"Is that so." They reply.

"Nothing came of it then, but it seems the individual in question re-filed it in London upon his arrival. I believe you're acquainted with Jane Greene--she didn't take up the case but her name is mentioned very briefly. It's a short summary: You had disappeared into the night once before and found much later here. A month ago, you disappeared again into the night--"

"I didn't leave."

"You've explained that you don't remember anything from the last month. How could you be certain that it wasn't a choice?"

"I wouldn't have left my life, i--" Their voice raises. "I wouldn't have agreed to having my tongue marked, or to go North, I--I don't know why but this time I must have been taken--"

"We are investigating any leads for who may have been involved in your absence," The officer explains. "But I am afraid also we must explore the possibility of a stressful fugue state in which you left of your own accord. We're trying to rule out it all out."

"Would I have inked up my own tongue in such a state?" Casey snaps angrily. "Sailed myself North for no reason other than to turn back around? It wasn't even my own ship."

He starts to speak, but Casey leans forward. "Listen," They say, their voice harsh. "I don't know what happened. I don't... know who I was with, I don't know who has seen me, who has touched me, I don't know who has been in my mouth. I don't know anything that happened, I can't--" Their voice stops abruptly as they try to retain their composure. "I can't give you any more, this is all I have, I can't do this, please let me go home."

Nobody says anything for a few minutes while the moment passes, Casey leaning over the table to hide their face in their hands. When they speak again, their voice is wet.

"On the Surface I left of my own volition." They say. "In the middle of the night, because I had to leave that vile bastard I had been living with." They spat. "This time, I didn't... I couldn't have planned this. I wrote about love to meet Lilac, and nothing more. I want nothing from the North. My memory skips from standing at my front door to the Avid Horizon."

There is a pause in the conversation as the older constable checks his pocket watch, then looks over to the younger one at the table with a nod. He exits the room, and the younger constable sets aside his work with a sigh.

"The Surface incident was a unique case, then." He says. "For this new one, we are investigating it as a kidnapping... anything at all that you may remember, just think. It can help us cast a wide net in finding who else was involved." He picks up his pencil. "The man who had filed the missing persons report down here was a Vincent Abrams. With the anger in your voice just now even recalling him, it says a lot. Would he have any reason to be involved in this?"

Casey is quiet for a long moment before answering. "No," They finally reply. "He has kept his distance for a long time."

"Very well," The constable says, taking a few more notes.

--

Not long into the evening, just a few minutes past 8, a constable's hansom pulls up outside the Banning residence. The constable that emerges tips his hand to the driver to wait and heads up to the front door, giving it a few swift knocks and stepping back. As he waits, he brushes a few fingers over his moustache to straighten it out and holds his head up. His eyes show a bit of a joyous gleam, though the rest of his expression is as set as stone.

It hasn't been a good month for Roland. His hair is greying at the temples, he hasn't been as attentive to appearances and details. Work had been paused and diverted towards any possible leads, with the occasional indiscreet question leading to shakier standing with the Masters. He hasn't given up hope yet, but a knock at the door at a late hour either means the best... or the worst. Roland's initial response upon seeing a constable is not positive. His shoulders slump until he sees the look in the constable's eyes, and he stops. "Wha--er. Good evening, Constable. I'm afraid to ask what you've come to tell me."

The constable removes his hand and stands up straighter. "Mr. Banning," He says. "Good evening. I'm sorry to interrupt you at this hour, but we are requesting your presence down at the station. It's good news--" He puts the hat back on. "Your spouse has been located alive."

Silence. Blinking slowly, a sense of relief visibly settling over him, the distress and fear sliding off, before he stands up straight again, and nods with determination. Without a word, without a coat, or a glance behind him, he's closed the door and started walking, not waiting for the constable to catch up.

"Hold on, hold on!" The constable speedwalks to try to catch up with him, walking along at his side. "We have a hansom ready here." He motions to the vehicle, with the driver giving Roland a little wave.

"We'll get you there faster than your own feet," The driver says.

Roland nods to the driver and opens the door to the hansom, climbing inside. "Then we're getting there before we waste any more time."

Little more is said on the ride to the station. The constable who had come to collect Roland resumes looking over his notes, occasionally glancing up to study Roland's face. No doubt Roland would have been questioned at the time of Casey's disappearance, but to Officer Moore all he could see was an exhausted, grief-weary husband.

The hansom takes them past the side-streets south, heading toward Wolfstack Docks. Soon the smell of the zee air was noticeable, and in the distance the sound of the waves as they came over the shore. As they come to a stop, the constable looks up to Roland. "They're probably still being questioned," He warns. "Mx. Banning was brought in in one piece thankfully, but it's all part of the process..."

"Mm." Without more than that, Roland exits the hansom and looks for directions for where they're being questioned, barely noticing the smells and sounds that would put him on edge.

The secretary at the front desk thinks nothing of giving him directions to the interviewing room, but Officer Moore seems to think otherwise. "This is still a very active investigation, Mr. Banning," He says, quick on his heels behind him as they traverse through the office. He catches up just as they get to the door and he puts his arm out to stop Roland, just for a moment.

"Let me go tell the other officers in there that you're here," He says. "You're likely to be shot at if you try to barge in."

"Then they'll patch me up and know better than to do it," He replies icily. For a moment it seems like he's about to make Moore move out of the way, but finally sighs and lets go of the doorknob. "Fine. I'm not waiting any longer than you telling them I'm here."

Officer Moore nods and slips inside the interview room. A few moments go by with some muffled words from behind the door, and then it swings open. He steps aside to let Roland in, where he would be able to see a 2nd constable sitting across a table from Casey. A blanket is wrapped over their shoulders and a steaming cup of tea is on the table in front of them. They look up slowly, barely registering at first that anyone new has come into the room, but recognition quickly lights up their face.

Roland holds back the urge to swoop in and hug them tight, instead walking to them and standing next to Casey's chair, offering his hand.

Casey stands up abruptly, the blanket falling into their chair as they fling their arms around Roland, pulling him into a full embrace. The constable at the table, takes this moment to re-straighten out the notes before him, pretending to not hear the muffled sniffles as he waits. It's a few long moments before Casey pulls away to look at Roland's face, gently putting their hand up to the side of his head.

"Your hair," They say quietly. Something about the way they spoke seems strange, like there is something in their mouth.

Roland hugs them close, adding to the noises that the constables are very Britishly pretending aren't happening. He kisses the top of their head, the familiar smell of their hair, the feel of their arms around him, all of it leading to him feeling like his jaw, shoulders, and face can relax for the first time since he came home to an open door and a missing spouse. When they break the silence, he laughs. "Your voice," he says. He looks at them, not wanting to let go. "I have... close to a million questions about how, just the same as anyone else here. But you're back. You're here."

The constable at the table gently clears his throat and stands up. "The how is simple," He says, looking to Casey who nods for him to continue. "Earlier this evening, they had come off a ship and zailors had recognized them from the missing posters." He scratches his head before continuing. "The where can't be answered now. We might have gotten as much answers as we can this evening... if you're able to return in a couple days for more questioning while we try to wrap up our side of things, maybe you'll remember more."

Roland nods. "I appreciate it. We'll write you when things are a tad less of a whirlwind. With that understood, would it trouble you to take us back home? We've all had a long month, and I think time together is important." He looks Troubled by the snippets of information, but doesn't press, just stays next to Casey, holding them close.

"We'll make sure you get back home safe," Officer Moore chimes back in, holding his arm out to guide them through the door first. Casey grasps Roland's hand in theirs, their fingers clammy and trembling. Their appearance is near haggard from zee-travel, with dark circles under their eyes and tension in their brow from some unseen pain. "Thank you," They say quietly. "If I do remember more, you'll know." They continue, their voice deliberately slower.

Roland holds them close, only now remembering (and regretting) that he didn't bring a coat. "For now, let's get you home and by something warm. There's a very grateful bunch of animals who are willing to help you."

"Mmmhm," Casey mumbles, walking with Roland back out to the hansom. Officer Moore walks with them to see them out, giving the instruction to head back to the Spires to the driver before stopping by the hansom door.

"You're always welcome to send a bat if anything comes up," He says. "To here, or any other stations closer. This is an ongoing investigation so any further assistance from either one of you is welcome. Especially about..." He motions to his mouth and Casey frowns. His hand drops down and he gives Roland a brief, nervous glance. "In any case..." He holds out his hand and Casey, who shakes it before climbing into the hansom.

The ride home is a quiet, peaceful one. Casey's hand clasped around Roland's and did not let go for the duration, only relaxing once they were all safe in front of their home. They shuddered upon exiting the vehicle, as if to shake off the last feelings of cold and horror from their interview. Once inside the house, Casey doesn't move to sit just yet--instead going straight to the fireplace and piling wood inside. Roland, though visibly more relaxed, still watches with a face of concern.

"I need to show you something but you are not going to like it," Casey finally says as they strike a match. Their speaking voice is still slow. "I want to say though that I think I will be fine, just... currently, not as well."

"What is it?" Roland asks.

Casey motions up to their face. "Someone has gifted me a new tattoo." They finally said, and opens their mouth wide for Roland to see. Roland blanches when he sees the symbol on their tongue, his voice an angry whisper.

"Who did this?"

"I don't know," Casey says. "Lilac is the most obvious suspect to me, but I don't know what it means or why--" Their voice stops in their throat abruptly, their hand going up to cover their eyes. Roland steps closer and pulls them into another hug, his arms cradling them as they trembled.

"Right now, I can help you focus on just getting some rest," He says, his voice soft. "We can address the uncertainty later. What's important right now is this: you're back home, and you're not alone."

[dontcallmecarrie]

Hi, I don't know if now is a good time for this, but Dad!Tony and found families are some of my favourite tropes, and I would love to see the LTTR Tony interact with Harley Heener and Peter Parker. Maybe he shares some of Maria Carbonell's stories, or teaches them knife tricks

UMM. 

Here’s the thing: from a more meta perspective, I’m not very confident in writing kidfic. It’s part of why I’m struggling with LTTR’s sequel, because my knowledge of childhood development comes straight off Wikipedia and I try not to get too personal when it comes to writing, plus my own experiences are worse than useless for this. [So if this stab at it feels weird, you know why.]

In-universe, there’s also a whole slew of stuff that comes into play. See, in my fics, the Stark family is pretty damn dysfunctional, it’s just that Maria makes it look good.

From a normal standpoint, Tony grew up in a very, very messed environment. Tony, of course, would go “screw that and screw you too, my family’s awesome” but that’s because he’s a Carbonell in all but name. To him, it’s perfectly normal to give and expect unconditional support and love from family— only, for Carbonells, that tends to mean ‘oh do you need help hiding that body? I’ll be there in five’ rather than ‘hey this party’s giving me a weird vibe, I need a ride home’, because they’ve been in Night Vale for generations […plus they may or may not have an eldritch abomination for an ancestor somewhere in their family tree, there’s that, too]. 

To sum up: Tony Stark has a very, very warped definition of family [and of the world in general, for that matter].

…and the more I think about it, the more the Carbonells sound like they might be distantly related to the Addams family but that’s an idea for another day

In the LTTR universe, he’s widely known to be…odd, as an adult. An incredibly deadpan snarker with some very weird jokes, the whole shebang. It’s one of his defining traits: Tony Stark, the eccentric billionaire philanthropist. When he mentions touring deserts as a vacation, or that nothing ruins the taste of soup worse than arsenic, the press takes it as a joke, etc. 

It’s entirely intentional, too: Tony’s experience with deep-cover espionage means he knows what passes as normal, it’s just that the effort involved in giving the world the show they want sounds exhausting, so might as well have some fun with it— which only makes his eccentricity even better [or worse, depending on your perspective].

As for encountering Harley or Peter…bear in mind that canon got thrown out from the get-go. I highly doubt we’ll get past the first Avengers movie—if we even get that far in the first place, what with Night Vale throwing a wrench into things. 

If either of them make an appearance, it’d be as new interns for Stark Industries, and then cue Tony giving off all the dad vibes. [Sorry, but kinda at odds as to how to fit Harley into this, so just doing Peter for this hypothetical because of the potential for it.]

So maybe Tony gets wind that the new intern’s a baby superhero, going out and fighting crime in spandex. A young, vulnerable kid who’s as liable to hurt himself as he is to help others— yeah, that’d definitely kick-start any family feels he had, if the Avengers hadn’t already done it.

And here’s why I went ‘oh shit’ when I saw your ask, because…some people probably shouldn’t be around impressionable children unsupervised. See, Maria Carbonell wanted a family, latched onto the idea with both hands and would gladly defend it with her dying breath. Tony’s the same way in regards to family, too, only…well, Tony is the male equivalent of the vodka aunt, and he’s self-aware enough to know it.

So when he finds out about the new intern who’s looking more and more ragged as the days go by, Tony takes the poor kid under his wing, and immediately ushers him to the Avengers common room in Stark Tower. 

Goes, “Welcome to the club, kid,” and, “hey, JARVIS, can you start up fabrication for bulletproof armor in his size?” 

When Tony adopts someone younger into his family, he’s a force of nature compressed into human form. 

Like, sure, first he’ll ask Peter ‘so is it okay if I tell the rest of the Avengers about your secret identity?’, and the moment he gets the all-clear, immediately starts drawing up plans for training with Steve because the man’s super-strength means he can give the kid some pointers, and some jokes for the next time he sees Natasha because two spiders on the team, and…well, the list goes on. 

The more time goes on, the more Peter picks up. This is where the ‘Tony is a chaotic good influence’ thing comes into play, because…um. 

J. Jonah Jamison’s always had a grudge against Spider-Man, but any credibility the man had practically vaporized when he started having The Daily Bugle call him a demon, a monster the lines of which man was not meant to know.

Which— it’s probably the most accurate he’s ever been, when reporting on Spider-Man. 

The cameras don’t pick up on it, is the thing. On how the more time goes on, the more the shadows shift around Spider-Man, or the bad luck that some of his opponents have. Unless someone’s looking very, very hard, they wouldn’t even notice the way the eyes of his suit gleam even in the darkest of nights.

But when they do? That’s when the nightmares start.

.

Tony’s torn between feeling very embarrassed and very proud, by how much Peter’s taking after him. The Avengers are kinda freaked out about it, and the Masters of the Mystic Arts are this close to apoplexy because what.

No, seriously, what the hell, magic doesn’t work that way—

Meanwhile Rhodey, Happy, and Pepper call up some of Peter’s more concerned friends and family, and bust out the ‘Welcome To The Family: Everything You Need To Know’ PowerPoint that Rhodey’d last updated when the Avengers had moved in.

Things continue in this vein, and it’s good. Chaotic, but good. Tony teaches Peter the ropes to controlling his newest power, Spider-Man’s a regular at the Avengers’ movie nights and is gleefully learning sarcasm from not only Tony but Clint.

Things continue in this vein. The world’s safe. 

…and then two portals open and three familiar figures tumble out, and the first time Maria sees Peter Parker and/or Harley Keener, she immediately tears up slightly because grandbabies!

[thelastarchangelaskblog]

Session 5

With all my schoolwork and internship I wasn’t able to put together a highlights reel of our last session, but I have some time now so I’m doing the thing!

This time all seven of us were present and it heralded some truly fantastic moments.

**

We opened up after an RP Zira ( @heliocentricgeometric) and Tony (me) had, where DJ (doxblogsstuff) woke up and took a look at his hand:

Dox: I was just going to say that DJ woke up, looked at his hand, and started swearing.

Bob ( @thechaoticwave) is still looking for our group and we spent some time chatting and eating breakfast while waiting for our bird friend to join us and also speculating how Bob was going to find us.

thechaoticwave: My name begins with a t today and that's all you get to know.

We’re eating breakfast and DJ is putting together elixirs so he doesn’t have to mess around for 2 turns in combat.

Dox: DJ comes very close to using the wrong hand to eat the wrong thing but then he stops himself.

For some reason Zira ends up telling the party she’s descended from celestials!

Zira:  I'm descended from celestials.

Everyone else: [is basically the gif set of John Mulaney going “This might as well happen? Adult life is already so goddamn weird.”]

Tony already knew the thing and so just patted Zira on the head.

We move on to discussing how we’re supposed to make ourselves obvious enough for Bob to find us.

Rhodey ( @rebaobsessions): We could sing? 

Zira: You people are all CRAZY

Zira goes off on how singing would draw basically every enemy to us because that is not subtle.

Zira: THERE ARE ALWAYS MORE UNDEAD

Also featuring:

Zira: Why would you make soldiers sing? That's not their job!

We’re wondering just how soldiers even got to singing.

Luna ( @imagine1117): So you didn't have to audition.

DJ insists he’s not singing because he’s a terrible singer but Tony’s insisting that he should sing.

DJ: Rhodey said i didn't have to sing!

Tony: Well, I guess we just want Bob to be flying around forever then.

There is singing and it’s done by @the-grey-hunt who has a lovely voice!

It was decided the party’s sole brain cell is currently being held by Rhodey.

Someone:  Does Bob have any brain cells?

thechaoticwave: Bob has absolutely 0 brain cells, despite needing intelligence.

This interaction came to life for some reason:

Zira: DJ, how are you not dead?

DJ: Explosions.

Zira: I am traveling with a bunch of idiots.

Luna: it took you this long to notice? 

Zira: I thought you had at least some self-preservation, but I guess not.

Tony: I have a very well developed sense of self-preservation! I’m still here, aren’t I?

Zira: We have what appears to be a 100% survival rate, but that could change at any moment.

We were rolling for something?

Dox: DJ rolled a 1. Wait, I can reroll that, never mind!

Rhodey checks the tower out where we defeated two specter a few days ago and notes it’s still desecrated. This is news to Zira.

Zira: It’s DESECRATED?!

In the area there are also suspicious tracks indicating someone was staying in the area for a while but we have no clue who other than that they’re not stalking us despite Zira’s doubts.

Bob joins us! Tony immediately asks him about his four shoulders.

Zira: Does that mean you're distantly related to dragons?

Bob: (genuinely distressed) I don't know I'm a bird!

Tony: You missed us fighting two undead and Rhodey sweet-talking a banshee into giving up her underwear.

Bob: You're a PALADIN, Rhodey, what the heck?

We get to talking about necromancers because of the undead.

Bob: Is there a necromancer nearby?

Zira: There might be! You never know!

it’s totally Zira because she keeps talking about death

The previous night Tony and Zira had a heavy conversation about the Horned Crown and their associations with it, which I have to post here because damn did some plot developments happen!

But Tony’s bringing the rest of the group up-to-date on everything and how Zira and he are totally going to go after this group and bring them down.

DJ: What about this As--

Zira: Do not. Say his name! Are you CRAZY?!

DJ: What if you think it?

We’re all a measly level 2 so Zira is rather alarmed at the notion of going after this group immediately.

Zira: While I am full of rage, i would rather not die. You're all crazy and super killable right now.

Tony: We’re just going to gather information first!

Why did we start talking about this?

Zira (probably): You can't confine yourself to one method of murder. There's just so many. With the number of weapons around, the chances of our getting stabbed in the back? Increasing. I'm not making any specific accusations. I have no evidence....yet.

Luna: Hands up if you're going to betray us, stab us in the back, and then kill us. 

(No one responds)

Luna: I think we're good.

We’re talking about nerds now!

Zira: Luna...you're also a nerd, for nature.

Luna: Yes.

Zira: Ted...I don't know what you're a nerd for yet.

Tony: If Rhodey ever tries to tell you he’s not a nerd he’s lying.

Zira: Nerds group together. They're like really nervous birds.

thechaoticwave: Ted waves.

DJ gives Tony healing potions and I have an epic goof-up.

Me: So we have five bottles of healing - I mean healing potions.

We’re back in Briarbane, and Tony’s off to talk to the townmaster regarding some orcs!

Helio: Zira trails behind Tony like a duckling.

The townmaster is enjoying a nice cup of coffee when Tony asks him some nice questions about the orcs he’s concerned about.

Tony: So have these orcs been stealing, pillaging, or murdering anyone?

DM ( @the-grey-hunt): He’s looking increasingly sweaty as you keep talking.

Townmaster: They’re there?

This guy is an epic racist and per the party members who were not present for this convo but listening in over the mic Tony (and thus me) dragged this guy through the mud.

Tony: Well, I suppose I’ll see about getting them moved because they’re clearly unsafe here next to you. What kind of proof will you need?

Townmaster: Oh, just anything...

Tony: I'll be back with a letter.

Townmaster: A letter?

Tony: A letter. Because they know their letters. They're not uncivilized beings.

Zira takes a moment for a final potshot at this guy.

Zira: So would you say I’m dangerous? (she doesn’t look human at all, baring sharp teeth)

Townmaster (rolls a Nat 1): No.

Zira: Hey, Mr. Townmaster, sir. You're a bitchass liar.

We finally meet up with Clint again and the first thing Zira tells him is that the townmaster is a bitchass liar and every other citizen in the vicinity doesn’t disagree.

While we’re discussing the Redbrands, Clint goes:

Clint: I don't know why this town has two pubs when it only has, like, 400 people.

On further discussion of this group and what to do...

DJ: Glasstaff?

Clint: ...okay, very funny. I know who Glasstaff is.

Tony: Yeah, he has a glass staff.

Clint: So I've heard.

Bob: WAIT, DOES HE REALLY?

We’re talking murder!

Zira: (singing) Murder time!

Clint: Don't say that out loud. 

Tony: (stares him in the eyes and says in a flat tone) Murder time.

Clint does not come with us as we head to the Redbrands because he has very few arrows and a whole lot of bolts from Bob.

We’re in a dungeon now! An actual dungeon while we deal with the Redbrands!

Luna locates a cool bag and because there’s something suspiciously magic in there she up-ends it per Tony’s advice. A bunch of gold hits the floor along with two bottles that proceed to break. One was a healing potion and the other an unknown poison.

We’re all very sad at the loss of a healing potion.

We find a bedroom and per Zira’s instructions proceed to defile it because that’s going to spook our enemies.

Bob does smiley face graffiti everywhere.

And that’s where we left off! In the middle of a dungeon and the next session is TOMORROW at 1:00 CST!

[notthecanadianaverage]

for the 50 questions, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ,6 ,7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, and 50 :)

LET’S DO THIS

1. What’s your favorite candle scent?

Honestly? I’m a basic bitch xD I love vanilla scented anything. Wooden wicks are the BEST. I want to find a candle that smells like fresh cut grass and a candle that smells like lumber. Those two scents, especially together, remind me of my grandpa who worked in a lumber yard and repaired lawn mowers. I treasure those memories so much omg.

2. What female celebrity do you wish was your sister?

Does Amethyst count? I actually don’t know xD I honestly can’t even think of any celebrities that I like??? I’ll say Jenna Marbles!

3. What male celebrity do you wish was your brother?

Again, I’m not really someone who goes nuts over celebrities, heh. I don’t know how to answer this D:

4. How old do you think you’ll be when you get married?

I mean, I’m 22 now and my fingers are crossed that it will happen soonish. The boyfriend lives in California and I think it might make things easier if we get married? Then he can come here!

5. Do you know a hoarder?

I don’t think so??? I mean I could be wrong.

6. Can you do a split?

I have tried for YEARS and I CANNOT DO IT ASLAJBODUBFODSUFNODSUBFLJDBFUBEF I FUCKING WISH I COULD

7. How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike?

Fuck if I know... Damn... I remember learning when I was... I think I was... 4? Maybe? I was super young.

8. How many oceans have you swam in?

I’ve only seen one ocean, the Pacific Ocean. I don’t know if I’ve swam in it, though. I know I’ve touched it and waded in it a little, but I don’t know if I’ve actually gone swimming...

9. How many countries have you been to?

2! Just Canada and the US. I’ve always wanted to go to England and Indonesia, though! I love Harry Potter, I always have (fucking fight me) and I decided when I was little that England was a must for me, that I had to go see Hogwarts. And Indonesia, my inner volcanologist NEEDS to go! That’s where my favourite volcano, Krakatoa, is located. 

10. Is anyone in your family in the army?

I hope not! I don’t think so. Or... Maybe? I think my cousin Austin is. I don’t know. I don’t remember the last time I saw him. We don’t really talk about him? My boyfriends dad was, though. That’s all I know.

11. What would you name your daughter if you had one?

OO OO OO!!!! So, my boyfriend and I have discussed this! I have a set of dog tags that I always wear that have our names and our kids names on them! We want two girls who will be named Raven Zaidee Trujillo and Dexter Rosie Trujillo. Dexter’s middle name was originally going to be Bonnuit (French for good night) but one of his best friends was sadly murdered earlier this year and he wanted to honor her memory.

12. What would you name your son if you had one?

ANOTHER QUESTION I AM EXCITED TO ANSWER!!!!! Our little boys name is going to be Blade Wayne Trujillo!!! I’ve always had a thing for the name Blade and Wayne was his dads middle name.

13. What’s the worst grade you got on a test?

Ffffffff I can’t even remember what I did yesterday... Um, I think it was a flat out 0 because I didn’t even do the test. It was a physics test. I was scared of the student aid lady at school so I never switched out of physics and I literally used that block to sleep and play on my phone. I never even showed up to write the exam.

14. What was your favorite TV show when you were a child?

Sailor Moon!!! I fucking LOVED that show!!!! I also loved Little Bear :D When I was 12, though, I was OBSESSED with this show called Disasters of the Century. It was a documentary style tv show about natural disasters and plane and train crashes and it was SO COOL. I LOVED IT SO MUCH. I used to wake up extra early before school just to watch!!

15. What did you dress up as on Halloween when you were eight?

Ummm…. I think I was a ninja? I remember I wore my karate gi out one year. I lived in Alberta at the time so there was like 2 or 3 feet of snow on the ground so I had to wear a snowsuit under my costume which was a HUGE disappointment because I was turned into a marshmallow rather than a ninja. Either that or I was Harry Potter. It was great! People always asked me though if I would rather be Hermione because I was a girl and my parents essentially told them to fuck off because I was HARRY FUCKING POTTER.

16. Have you read any of the Harry Potter, Hunger Games or Twilight series?

YES. My apartment is almost entirely Harry Potter. I have an Expecto Patronum tattoo and my ratty memorial tattoo on my leg is also Harry Potter. I am a diehard fan until the end. Fucking fight me. I also read and own the Hunger Games trilogy. Such good books omg. I was in the Amazing Book Race club in school and one year we had to read The Hunger Games and we even did a book trailer for it! I still have it! We showed my boyfriend when he came out in April xD The books are MUCH better than the movies.

17. Would you rather have an American accent or a British accent?

British! Does my Harry Potter loving ass need to say more?

18. Did your mother go to college?

I don’t think so? I’m not sure. I don’t know if anyone in my family has.

19. Are your grandparents still married?

Kind of? Not really. My Papa passed away from lung cancer in 2010. 

20. Have you ever taken karate lessons?

Yes xD I started when I was 5 and I stopped when I was 13 I think? I got injured in a biking accident and had to leave. I was going to go back but as I was getting ready to, I got a really bad knee injury and I just haven’t been back. I really want to go back, though! It was fun and I don’t get nearly enough exercise.

21. Do you know who Kermit the frog is?

I sure as fuck hope I do!

22. What’s the first amusement park you’ve been to?

I think it was Playland, my parents would have taken me when I Was super young. But the first amusement park I remember going to is Callaway Park in Alberta. I loved that place! I remember throwing a temper tantrum because my dad told the lady was 6 when I was actually 8 and I LOST MY MIND.

23. What language, besides your native language, would you like to be fluent in?

Any language! I speak French but I would love to learn Michif which is the native language of Metis people as I am Metis c:

24. Do you spell the color as grey or gray?

I think I alternate, actually xD

25. Is your father bald?

Yes, he is! 

26. Do you know triplets?

I was about to say no, but I think I met triplet babies once who I may or may not be distantly related to? I’m not actually sure anymore.

27. Do you prefer Titanic or The Notebook?

I’ve never actually seen either! I feel like the Titanic would be a no go for me, though, because I have issues with big boats and the fact that it’s real fucks me up and also James Cameron almost killed his cast by actually making them sit in ice cold water for the sake of hard nipples and realism????

28. Have you ever had Indian food?

I have had very badly made butter chicken once. It was so bad, WAY too much curry. And I think my boyfriend and I once ordered from an Indian restaurant. I ordered from the kids menu because that was the only place where there was non-spicy options xD

29. What’s the name of your favorite restaurant?

Umm... Hmm... White Spot? Maybe... But I also enjoy El Grullesays Grill... I slaughtered that name ;_; It’s a Mexican restaurant in California that serves meaty fries! God I miss meaty fries... They’re like nacho fries! They have mozzarella cheese, sour cream, green onions, and shredded steak :3

30. Have you ever been to Olive Garden?

I actually don’t know. I think maybe? But I was too young to remember it. I think I’ve gotten leftovers, though, from when my grandma went.

31. Do you belong to any warehouse stores (Costco, BJ’s, etc.)?

I’m too broke for that shit ._____.

32. What would your parents have named you if you were the opposite gender?

Pfft beats the fuck outta me. We never talked about that.

33. If you have a nickname, what is it?

Bug! 

34. Who’s your favorite person in the world?

Honestly? My boyfriend xD He is one of the very few people in this world who doesn’t tolerate me because he loves and embraces all of my weirdness xD Him and G are my favourite peeps.

35. Would you rather live in a rural area or in the suburbs?

I actually can never remember which is which and I mean, I’m not picky. As long as people leave me alone and I’m in a safe area, I’m happy xD

36. Can you whistle?

Yes! Can you hear me? I’m doing it!

37. Do you sleep with a nightlight?

I do not. I used to want to when I was little. I have one in my bathroom, though.

38. Do you eat breakfast every morning?

Pfft. No. I’m not a breakfast person. I work nights so I get home at 7 in the morning so if I eat before I go to bed, no joke, I will just make a box of macaroni.

39. Do you take any pills or medication daily?

I do! I take medication for my ADHD so that I don’t eat everything in my apartment and I can function somewhat normally.

40. What medical conditions do you have?

I am ADHD, I struggle with depression (it’s not nearly as bad as it use to be luckily), anxiety, I suspect BPD. I have a few joint injuries that will never really properly heal but other than that, nothing.

41. How many times have you been to the hospital?

Hehehe…. Um… For me? Food poisoning… injuries… suicide attempts… hmmm… 11 or 12 times? All but one in the last 10 years. What can I say, I’m clumsy as fuck xD

42. Have you ever seen Finding Nemo?

Yes! I love that movie!! 

43. Where do you buy your jeans?

Pennington’s. I am THICC. It’s the only place I can get jeans that fit without destroying what little confidence I have. Sadly though they are NOT cheap so I currently only own 2 pairs that fit me and the thighs on both are destroyed so they are being held together by denim patches from an old pair of shorts, fabric glue and some mediocre hand stitching.

44. What’s the last compliment you got?

I have vibrantly coloured hair. Right now, it’s green. I’ve had very brightly coloured hair since I was 15 I think? My natural colour is brown. I’ve only had brown hair once since I started dying it and that was when I went to go visit my boyfriend for the first time because he had never seen me with my natural colour. I just said that I looked weird with brown hair and he said “No, you look incredible.”

45. Do you usually remember your dreams in the morning?

Hmm, sometimes. Most of the time, I do. Been having a lot of nightmares and stress dreams lately, though, so I wish I didn’t...

46. What flavor tea do you enjoy?

I absolutely prefer herbal teas. My favourite is Just Peachy from DavidsTea!! I also REALLY love White Peach omg

47. How many pairs of shoes do you currently own?

Ahh…. Hmm…. I have… 8 or 9? I think? I’m not home so I can’t check.

48. What religion will you raise your children to practice?

None. I grew up Atheist. I knew of religion, obviously. My grandma is religious. But I just never understood it. My understanding was that there was a God and that he lived in the clouds and I remember looking at the sky one day and there were no clouds and I was concerned. I also didn’t understand Heaven or Hell because neither have been seen and the lack of tangibility fucked with me so hard. My grandpa got really sick in 2009, he had lung cancer. I remember when he was in the hospital I really tried to look for something, anything, to turn to for comfort because everything was falling apart around me. He unfortunately passed away and I was angry because if God is real and if he actually loved us, why would he let us suffer the way that he did, the way that I was. How dare he?! That was honestly the last straw for me. If my children want to explore religion or they want to go to church and see what it’s all about, I will absolutely support them in doing so, but I will not raise them in any specific religion.

49. How old were you when you found out that Santa wasn’t real?

That was something I just kind of grew out of. I was never exclusively told that any of that was fake. I actually have a memory from when I was 3 or 4 of sneaking out of my room really late at night and peeking into the living room where I could hear my parents talking and I saw Santa and Mrs. Clause? I also remember one Christmas night where I couldn’t sleep (this is when I was maybe 10 now) so I was watching the snow fall outside and seeing if I could spot Santa in the sky when I heard someone walking in the hall. I lived in a bit of an abusive household so I had learned what everyone’s footsteps sounded like and the footsteps were heavy, MUCH heavier than my dads (who was very overweight at the time), it definitely wasn’t my Uncle, and they were wearing shoes (or boots). I was too scared to go look outside while they walked away but after the house was quiet again, I checked, and my stocking was outside my door, so I still don’t know how to explain that...

50. Why do you have a youtube?

AHAHAHA SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION!!!! I obviously have my personal YouTube but I don’t generally post anything, I just use it to watch shit. BUT MY OTHER YOUTUBE… I use YouTube @RatPotatoez to post videos of my rats! I will also soon use it to post my podcasts!!! RatPotatoez can also be found on Facebook, Instagram, SnapChat, Vent, basically everywhere! You should go follow me everywhere so you can see the cuteness that is my rats c: