#i got this image in my head months ago when the song came out and it took me until now to finish the damn thing

[lovelytsunoda]

does he take care of you? // george russell

does he take care of you? or could i easily fill his shoes, but you say 'no'. yeah you said 'no'... and i'm not trying to stop you love, if we're gonna do anything we might as well just fuck

summary: they had always been walking a fragile, tender line between friends and lovers. they were bound to cross it at some point.

pairing: george russell x bonnington!reader

warnings: an attempt is made at angst, people can't properly deal with their feelings. minor drug use, insinuations and non detailed sex (but bestie bonnington can’t deal with her feelings properly so she bails when things get serious-) one small little insinuation that someone might jump off a building. loosely inspired by the song 'sex' by the 1975

it was dark outside, nearing ten pm at the track when peter bonnington came to find george. george was in his drivers room, looking over printouts of race data, trying desperately to figure out where he could improve the following weekend.

“I hate to bother you, mate.” peter started, “do you have a moment?”

thankful for the reprieve from straight line speed and throttle graphs, george folded the printouts back into their legal folder and turned to look at the engineer. “what do you need?”

there were lines furrowed on bonnos brow. the man looked stressed, and george had a feeling that it wasn’t due to the cars subpar performance.

“I need you to talk to y/n. she hasn’t been doing well these past few months and I’m starting to get really worried. she won’t talk to me and she won’t talk to her mum. toto tried to ask her about it and she threw her drink in his face. something is wrong with my little girl and she’s shutting me out.”

george frowned (although he had to admit that the mental image of babe bonnington throwing the icy remainder of her pink starbucks refresher onto the great toto wolff made him laugh). “when did all this start?”

“when she came back from wales a few months ago, that big work trip. I think it has something to do with that wanker matthew she was dating, he hasn’t been around the house since before she left.”

“do you know where she is?”

“the roof, I think.”

at the look george gave him, bono sighed, shaking his head. “she’s not gonna jump. she just wants peace and quiet. I think the inside of her head is too loud. besides, the motor home isn’t high enough off the ground for anything serious to happen if she falls.”

“still, why would you let her be on her own right now?”

“she didn’t give me a choice.”

after a bit of floundering (and a trip back down the stairs after he realized he’d forgotten a coat), george found his way to the roof. from here, he couldn’t quite see the track, but he could see the lights and hear the sounds of the paddock, watching the last few stragglers exit their team homes and head for the front gates.

y/n sat at the edge, feet pulled up under her and a halo of smoke around her messy hair. her clothes were baggier than normal, darker than usual. when she turned to face him, the driver could see that her eyeliner was smudged, a single mascara tear running down her cheek. in her hand, she shakily clutched a lit joint, the embers at the end glowing orange in the night.

“I thought you quit that?” george asked, concern evident in his tone as he moved to sit next to her.

“fucking mattys fault.” she grumbled, taking a long drag of the fragrant plant. “he’s set my anxiety issues back about five years, figured it was time to go get my cbd prescription refilled.” she stopped, taking another drag before exhaling the smoke and offering it up to george. “it won’t get you high, but if we share it, it will make this look less sad.”

george frowned, taking the joint from her hand and taking a shaky drag, choking in the smoke as it filed his lungs. “what did he do? did he touch you?”

she laughed sadly, defeat in her eyes as she looked over the paddock. “nope. what he did hurt a whole lot more. when I got back from wales I went over to his apartment to surprise him, since my flight had gotten in a few hours early. he was in bed with another woman. and this wasn’t the first time, either. he’s been seeing her almost as long as he’s been seeing me. apparently she didn’t know I existed, and he was thinking about marrying her. I was fucking humiliated, george.”

“I’m so sorry.” he didn’t know what to say as he passed the joint back. she took a long drag, refusing to meet his eyes until he had reached over to shake her gently by the shoulder. “you did nothing wrong. you are pretty and funny and smart and most of all worthy of love. if matty couldn’t see that, then he didn’t deserve you in the first place, y/n.”

it happened so suddenly it almost knocked the driver on his backside. they were just talking, sitting comfortably in the marijuana smoke and then suddenly the engineers daughter is kissing him. soft, guava lips pressed to his, pillowy from all the tropical lip balms she can’t seem to put down. her hands are hungry, extinguishing the joint against the metal motor home roof before pawing at george’s broad frame.

they had been friends for years, yn considered him one of her closest. it must have been the part of her that needed reassurance that said ‘it’s okay, cross the line’ because soon enough, he was kissing her back, tongue exploring her mouth with reverence, hands gripping her waist through her mom jeans, then slipping into her back pockets to cop a feel.

“is there anyone left inside?” she panted, resting her forehead against george’s, hand splayed against his clothed chest.

the driver shook his head.

“good. I want you.”

and then they were in his drivers room, everything happening so fast that it felt like a fever dream. and then it happened, her jeans and panties on the floor, stripped down the lacy camisole she’d had on under her sweater, back on the massage table as she wrapped her bare legs around george’s hips, his hands gripping thighs hard enough to leave marks as he pounded into her, sweat dripping off the tips of his brown hair.

“god, fuck, george, please!” none of the words leaving her mouth were coherent. it didn’t matter. this was about avoidance, a mere distraction, if you will.

she needed to be fucked so hard she couldn’t think about all the bullshit matty was putting her through.

when all was said and done, her mind blissfully clear as she lay prone on the massage table, feeling the sweat dry on her flushed skin as she watched george tuck his cock back into his jeans, all she could find it in her to say was “god I needed that.”

and from there, it was all too easy to fall into a dangerous pattern that didn’t help anybody. one that tord a line so fragile it might as well have been made of salt, intended to keep the deeper feelings out.

the night in george’s drivers room turned into a quickie the next morning in the airport bathroom, bent over the vanity in front of a mirror, panties around her ankles and a massive hickey tucked into her turtleneck as they sat across from each other on the private jet, sharing a glance and smiling at the secret they shared,

eventuakly, back on home soil, the driver became her coping mechanism. when she wanted to go out but her friends were busy, george was the first person she called, pulling up to his house in her toyota corolla, synth-heavy music that was popular on tumblr in 2014 shaking the frame of the car. she turned it down as george opened the passenger door, giving her an odd look as the guitar solo played quieter in the background.

“how can you think when it’s that loud?”

“that’s the point. I can’t. it keeps the thoughts at bay.”

that night had ended in the back of an empty parking garage, movie theater popcorn and a takeout box left abandoned on the passenger seat, y/n on her knees with george’s rock hard length in her mouth. hearing him moan her name was its own kind of drug, and hearing him call her ‘good girl’ was enough to have her clenching around air.

or when george would come over, and they would make a new recipe together, criminal minds playing in the background. how many nights did the dinner end up burning while george had y/n's legs spread wide on the dining room table?

and while the act itself brought him nothing but pleasure, it was the aftermath that left him feeling like shit. he knew this was never going to go any further, that y/n was just looking for a rebound. something to take her mind off just how fucked her last relationship had been.

george would never be anything more than a friend, someone she could fuck when she needed it and be platonic with when she didn't.

she deserved better, someone who could take care of her in teh way that her heart ached for.

someone like george william russell, he thought.

but who was he to decide what was best for her? maybe he could show her, treat her right and change her mind somehow. but he wasn’t sure how to do it.

it was a night like any other, over a game of uno and a bottle of white wine, reruns of coronation street playing in the background, the smooth jazz of the intro and outro music only adding to the atmosphere.

and of course, as nights like these do, the cards ended up discarded on george’s living room floor, bodies mushed together in a heap in front of the soft blue glow of the tv. he picked her up bridal style, deftly lifting her weight as if she weighed nothing, carrying her to the master bedroom.

the bedroom. a place so intimate and so forbidden. their relationship had subsisted on having sex anywhere but a bed, for a bed would make it too real. there would be too many feelings involved.

and yet here he was, taking a massive leap into the unknown, uncharted waters as he laid her down against the linens, caging her body in with his as he kissed her.

a kiss so different from all the others that they shared, this one soft and tender. no teeth and no tongue, just the soft caress of a man’s chapped lips, done with reverence, as if her body was a treasure.

he trailed his soft, open mouthed kisses down her neck, no words exchanged between the two as his hands began to slide up her black t-shirt, over her belly-button piercing and then coming to rest over the padding of her bra as his lips traced her collarbone. he was in tune to her every movement, every whine and gasp.

he kissed down her stomach, feeling it rise and fall with her every breath. listening to the way that her breath caught as he popped open the button in her skinny jeans, dragging them down her legs and watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

“george,” she hummed as he kissed and nibbled at her inner thigh, so close yet so far from what she needed.

“george!” it was a shout this time, paired with her small hands aggressively pushing him away. “I can’t do this. what are we doing here?”

“what?” george was wide eyed an confused “I’m treating you like a decent fucking boyfriend would! I like you yn, and you mean a lot to me. you deserve more than some cheap fuck in the backseat. you deserve to be treated like a treasure.”

she shook her head, standing up from the bed and pulling her jeans back on, refusing to meet georges eyes as she faced the firestorm of thoughts in her head, each one telling her that she had made a horrible mistake.

“we can’t. there was a line, and we crossed it.” her voice was shaky, bottom lip quivering. she was doing the right thing, or so she kept telling herself. putting that boundary back.

because they were friends. nothing more, nothing less.

george laughed. an awful, grating sound in this context. “you weren’t worried about crossing lines when you let me fuck you on my massage table. or when you had my cock down your throat.”

“please don’t take that tone with me!”

“I know matty hurt you. and I know you needed a rebound, but I want all of you, yn. I want your good days and your bad. I want to take care of you.” he was getting desperate. they both knew that there was no such thing as ‘just friends’ after this.

“I can’t be what you need, and I can take care of myself.” she tucked her hair behind her ear before storming last george and back into the living room.

george would always regret letting her leave. somehow, as he watched her grab her purse and her leather jacket and the keys to her fucking toyota, that this would be the last time he saw y/n bonnington.

and he was right.

he didn’t see her start to cry when she got into her car, driving to an empty space of road so she could pull over into the shoulder and let it all out, the radio tuned so loud that she swore it was shaking the frame of the car. and that’s when she decided it was time to reevaluate her life.

george didnt see her again for months. he heard from bonno that she quit her job, moved out to the coast. somewhere on the water. brighton or blackpool or bournemouth. a new group of friends, a new job, a fresh start.

she sold the toyota, bought herself a mini cooper countryman, a car she’d wanted since she was a little girl. she stopped wearing tight, dark clothes and starting seeking out florals, pastels even. flowier clothes that made her feel good.

and she was happy. from time to time, she still thought about that night at george’s. in a way, she was thankful. it had forced her to change, to become a better person. a healthier one. but she hated that she had hurt him. played with his feelings and then stomped on his heart. but deep down, she knew she had done the right thing. she could never have been the girlfriend that george needed. she was too broken.

george saw her again a year later, in the paddock at silverstone. he hardly recognized her: new hair, wide smile. mom jeans and a floral crop top that looked straight out of the seventies. she looked good. happy. healthy.

but there was something else he saw that hit him like a knife to the kidney.

it was the man on her arm. he was conventionally attractive, if you liked surfers. his dark hair flopped around his face the same way hugh grants did in ‘notting hill’ and his sunglasses were hooked into the collar of his striped resort shirt, left open for the top few buttons of course. she looked at him like he’d hung the moon, and he held her like she was the most important thing in his life, always having an arm around her shoulders, tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.

his name was colin. of course his name was fucking colin. like he was a character in fucking love actually, and not the man dating the woman george had so vulnerably bared his heart to.

he’d pulled out his phone, open to her number even though he’d sworn to himself that he’d delete it but he never did.

the text was right there in the message box, waiting to be sent.

does he take care of you?

but when he looked over at them again, his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder as she was pointing out different things on her dad computer monitor, george knew the answer.

colin took incredible care of her, and he seemed to be exactly what she needed.

and how could george fault the other man for doing exactly what he would if y/n had been his?

he deleted the message without sending it, quietly slipping out of the garage, with the intention of working out until he couldn’t feel the pain any more.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @userlando @httpiastri @clemswrld @thatsdemko @diorleclerc @cartierre @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck

#george russell #george russell x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 smut #george russel x reader #george russell x you #george russell smut

[tema-makes-art-sometimes]

They're just keeping it reel...

#hetalia #hws russia #hws america #hws canada #hws china #hws hetalia #ghost and pals reference #I listen to Gone Fishing too much #four largest countries in the world go on a fishing trip #shinanigans insue #i got this image in my head months ago when the song came out and it took me until now to finish the damn thing

[not-magdi]

"Home for the Holidays"

Summary: Going home for the holidays with your boyfriend 

Word Count: 1.9k

Reading time: 7 min 40sec

Genre: Fluff

A/N 

A Pedri image for some change again, I wasn't sure at first with who I was going to write it but he gave me better vibes for this. 

Hope you enjoy it!

Love you guys Magdi <3

(His smile aagghh, it's so cute!!)

You were currently packing your bags as you were flying home for Christmas. The whole day, you were in a good mood, blasting Christmas songs through your speakers and dancing around your house to them.

Since you moved to Barcelona for your new job six months ago, you haven't been able to travel home for once. Work and other things were always getting in the way.

But now you finally have time to go home and spend the holidays with your family. You were beyond excited you hadn't seen your parents in a long time, the last time they visited you was in summer when they came to visit you and meet your new boyfriend, Pedro Gonzáles.

The same boyfriend who is currently sitting on the floor beside you, laughing at all the stupid Christmas sweaters you own.

"Amor, why do you have so many of them !?"

"Because they're awsome. Look! This one has little kittens with hats on them!"

You threw a reindeer one at him as he still laughed at you. The two of you continued to joke around until you heard your phone ringing.

"It's my mum, give me a sec."

As you picked up, your smile faltered when you heard the sad voice of your mum as she greeted you. Walking out of the room, you tried to find a quiet corner so you could speak to her.

"Hey Mum, is everything alright?" You asked her concerned.

"Well, not quite. We just got a national wetter warning for the whole country. There's a big snowstorm coming. All airports cancelled their flights to here."

Your phone nearly fell out of your hand as you heard the news. "No please, no." Tears started to gather in your eyes as you let the information sink in.

"I'm so sorry, honey, but we can visit you soon, after this storm is over. I promise."

Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly say goodbye to your mum and hand up again. When you put your phone back into your pocket, the first tear ran down your face. Not being able to go home meant you would be spending Christmas alone for the first time.

Your long absence made Pedri curious about where you ended up, so he stood up and began to search for you.

"Y/N where are you?"

You quickly dried your tears as you heard him rounding the corner to the living room.

"Y-yeah I'm fine. ¡No te preocupes!" (Don't worry)

You tried to make your voice sound more steady than it actually was. But as soon as you locked eyes with Pedri, the dams broke. With tears streaming down your face, you tried to explain to him what happened, though nothing but sobs left your lips.

"I-I (sob), I can't-"

"Hey, it's ok. Estoy auqí, estoy aquí." (I'm here, I'm here.)

Pedri rushed over to you and immediately took you into his embrace. Gripping his hoodie, you buried your face into his neck and continued to cry.

Not knowing what happened, Pedri let his fingers run through your hair in an attempt to calm you down a bit.

"Tell your Pepi what happened Amor. Maybe I can help you fix it." He softly stroked your cheek while tightening his other arm around you.

Shaking your head, you answer with a shaking voice. "I don't think you can help me with this. The only thing that could help me would be a magical change in the weather."

"¿Qué quieres decir cariño? (What do you mean honey?)

"Th-There is a massive storm at home. (Sniff) I-I can't go home, Pedri."

You looked up at him as you told him the reason for your misery, your voice barely a whisper. Pedri felt his heart squeeze as he saw your red eyes and puffy, wet cheeks.

While holding you in his arms, trying to reassure you, an idea sparked into his mind.

"Baby, do you wanna spend Christmas with my family?"

You smiled slightly at his suggestion. Pedri would do anything to make you happy. But you weren't sure about his idea. You see, Pedri and you have only been together for five months. Yes, you've already met his family, but you didn't want to intrude on such an intimate holiday.

"Pepi, I'm not sure. You've not seen your family for so long I don't want to intrude."

Looking at you in disbelief, Pedri takes your face into his hands. "Bebé, my parents love you! You would be the last person to intrude. Please do it for me. I couldn't enjoy myself knowing you would be here, alone."

Your heart melted at his statement, so you agreed to go to the Canary Islands with him and his brother.

It was the 23rd of December, and after paying way too much for a last-minute plane ticket, you and Pedri met Fer at the airport and are now waiting for your gate to open.

"I'm happy you're here. Pedro is way more fun when you're with him."

You blushed at Fer's words. He is always so friendly towards you. Ever since the day Pedri introduced you two. Fer made you feel welcome, and you really appreciated that. As you wanted to say something to him, your gate opened, and Pedri ushered you to board the plane.

Your flight was pretty chill. A few people asked Pedri if they could take a photo with him, which he happily agreed to do. You always admired how kind he acted around his fans.

After you landed, you three got a taxi and drove to Pedri's and Fer's childhood home.

Fernando and Rosy were already waiting by the door to greet all of you. As soon as the two brothers were out of the car, they were already in the warm embrace of their parents.

You stood beside them for a while, not wanting to interrupt their long-awaited family reunion. But as soon as Rosy saw you, she let go of her sons to give you a big welcoming hug.

"Y/n! It's so great that you're here!"

"Thank you for letting me stay here. I really appreciated it!"

Fernando also came over to give you a quick hug. "Oh please, we are more than happy to have you here."

After unpacking and resting for some time, Pedri decided to show you around in his hometown. You visited his school, first-ever football club, and the beach where he and his friends would always go after training.

You were amazed to see all the places that made your Pedro who he is now.

After spending the whole day exploring the island, you two came home to a home-cooked meal. You ate dinner and had a wonderful time with his family. You were unbelievably grateful to be a part of all this.

The next day, you woke up on top of Pedri. His warm hands were stroking your back, which ultimately woke you up.

"Bon dia bebé." Kissing the side of your face, Pedri greeted you with his slightly groggy morning voice.

"Mhm, morning Amor."

You cuddled deeper into his warm embrace again and nearly fell asleep until Fer banged his fist against the door.

"Morning lovebirds! Get up!"

Groaning, Pedri moves you from him and slowly sits up. "I swear to god I love him, but sometimes he needs to be smacked on the back of his head."

You both start to giggle and decide to get up and begin the day. You put on some old training shorts and a shirt that you took from Pedri. You head downstairs to the kitchen, where Fernando is already preparing dinner for the evening.

"Good morning, you two! Breakfast is at the table, take what you want."

Thanking him, you head to the dining table. Fer and Rosy were already eating. You sat next to Pedri's mum, who greeted you with a warm smile.

While eating breakfast, you decide what you should do for the day. You choose helping Fer with the shopping while Pedri stays at home and helps his parents prepare for the evening.

It turned out that buying snacks and drinks for fourteen people takes longer than you thought. You and Fer came home barely before the first members of his family started to arrive.

The house looks beautifully decorated. It looks like it came straight out of a postcard. Pedri's family was unbelievably welcoming to you. You had a great time and enjoyed yourself truly.

When it was time for the presents, you quickly ran up the stairs to grab presents for Pedri and his parents. As soon as it was clear that you would join Pedri for the holidays, you immediately searched for presents for his parents.

You got his mum a beautiful necklace and his dad a bottle of wine. You hope they will like them. Pedri wasn't much help while buying them, so you just guessed.

When you arrived at the living room, wrapping paper flew around, and you could see Pedri playing with one of his cousins. Sitting next to him, you gave Pedri's parents their presents.

They absolutely loved them. Rosy hugged you tight after you put the necklace on her.

"My dear, thank you so much. I love it!"

"I'm glad you like it. But give me a second I have to hand Pedri his gift to."

You approached him with a small red envelope you picked up from under the Christmas tree.

"Merry Christmas, Pepi."

Smiling at you, he took the envelope and pulled you onto his lap. You squealed and blushed, not used to showing so much affection in front of his family.

"What are you doing!?" You whisper-shouted into his ear.

"I missed you, my family has had way to much time with you."

You smirked at his slight jealousy. Pedri was never the biggest fan of sharing your attention.

"Come on, open your present now."

He ripped the envelope open and gasped.

"You got me tickets for Quevedo!?"

"Yeah, I saw that he is in Barcelona next summer, so I quickly bought them."

You felt Pedris arms tighten around you as he nuzzled his face into your neck. "I love you so much, thank you!!"

"I love you too ba-woah!" You gasped as Pedri literally threw you off his lap and sat you down on the couch.

"Wait here for a second. I need to get your gift."

As he rushed upstairs, you looked on in confusion. After a few minutes, he returned with a small white box in his hand.

Sitting down before you, he gave you the little box.

You quickly unwrapped it and gasped loudly, "No, you didn't!"

The box contained a Pandora bracelet, the kind of bracelet that allows you to add multiple charms. You talked to Pedri that you loved the idea of them. But that you thought they were too expensive.

You lunged yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!!"

"You're welcome Amor. I'm happy you like it."

He helped you put the bracelet on, and as you looked closer, you saw a little Barcelona charm hanging from it. You gave Pedri a sweet kiss and continued to watch the rest of the family unwrapping their presents.

You spend the rest of the evening chatting and laughing with his family. You had a great time and felt truly like a part of the family. Something Pedri was already planning on making you after today.

------

Don't forget to leave a like if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!

#pedro gonzález lópez #pedri #pedrito #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri x you #fc barça #fc barcelona #football #pedri gonzalez #pedro gonzáles x reader

[fangirlshrewt97]

RRR RPF - Your Child’s Love

A little drabble for a moment shared between Tarak and his son. I just had an image pop into my head of this, and built a story around it. I typed it out on my phone, so apologies if I missed any typos. 

///

Tarak laughed as he let himself be pushed back against the couch arms, keeping his arm steady for Abhay to clamper up to sit on his chest.

He was exhausted, having just finished a song shoot out of the state that had kept him from home for a week. It felt like his son had grown far too big in the handful of days he'd been away, and though his eyes strained to stay open, his heart wanted to spend every second since he got home with his son in his arms.

A glance at the doorway showed Pranathi leaning against it, a look of utter contentment on her face that settled Tarak's own heart. The pregnancy bump was not yet visible and they'd only told their closest relatives, wanting to hold on till after the third month to make a proper announcement. He held out his hand to her. Pranathi came closer, settling at the edge of the couch where he had bent his knees. She grabbed his hand, squeezing it when she placed her own hand in.

"Nanna!" Abhay squealed as he rubbed his cheek against Tarak's. Tarak grinned so wide his cheeks hurt, his free arm wrapping around Abhay's back.

"Have you been a good boy, my little monkey?" He asked playfully, rubbing his cheek against Abhay's.

Abhay's giggles rose in pitch as he tried to push his father away. "Nanna you're scratching me!"

The two day old stubble was irritating Tarak too, and he knew he needed to shave it before he showed up on set on Wednesday. That was two days from today though so he was going to leave it for later.

"Ah sorry bhujji, but it's itching so much and your cheek is SO soft."

"Noooooo." Abhay shrieked as he moved to sit on Tarak's chest, one leg jammed between Tarak's shoulder and the couch arm.

Tarak smiled at him, shifting his hand to wrap it around Abhay's ankle to keep him falling. Those dark brown eyes twinkled with so much light, they outshone the night sky as far as Tarak was concerned. 

That familiar urge to keep  his son safe, to protect him from all the ugly of the world, to hide him inside his chest where nothing could touch him roared through him. It felt like a blink of an eye ago when he was a baby, so small it seemed he could fit in Tarak's palm.

"Nanna you look like you're going to sleep." Abhay said, poking at Tarak's cheek.

"Nanna has been busy working for the past week Abhay. He could use some rest. Why don't I play with you and we leave him to take a nap?" Pranathi said from behind him, placing her free hand on Abhay's shoulder.

Abhay pouted, "But I haven't played with Naana in so long!"

Unfortunately the volume of the complaint was just loud enough to cross the wall of happiness at being reunited with his kid that Tarak had thrown up, and he winced as the pounding headache from the car ride returned. 

Even worse, Abhay caught it.

"Nanna?" He asked, voice small.

Tarak tried to give him a reassuring smile that ended up closer to a grimace. "Sorry kanna, but your Amma is right as always. I promise I'll play with you after my nap."

Abhay's shoulders hunched in as he fiddled with the buttons of Tarak's shirt. Tarak hated seeing his son despondent.

"Nanna, I promise, I will play with you for as long as you want. I just have a bit of a headache now."

Abhay perked up. "I can help Nanna!"

And before either adult could stop him, the boy had slid off to the side to huddle by Tarak's head, tiny hands on Tarak's temples. They started moving in slow circular motions, so cautious and sweet Tarak felt tears gather at the corner of his eyes.

Abhay gasped. "Did I hurt you Nanna?"

Tarak grabbed Abhay's wrists, pressing kisses to his palms. "You can never hurt me Abhay. That felt wonderful."

Abhay's smile was bright enough to power the sun. "Then I'll go on!"

Abhay resumed the action, "Amma, look! I'm making Nanna's headache go away."

Pranathi looked at Abhay with total adoration. "Yes you are."

"Amma, sing your lullaby to make Nanna sleep! That will make him get better soon and he can play with me again!"

Pranathi huffed a laugh but obliged.

There, surrounded by his son's hands pressing against his temples and his wife's voice in his ears, Tarak closed his eyes. He slowly sank into sleep, his family warming him inside and out.

///

It’s short, and could probably have been expanded but this is all I can manage for now, I hope you like it. If you do, please let me know (just so I know someone is still reading my fic 😅)

@rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @fangirl-from-discord @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @jrntrtitties @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864  @stanleykubricks @m3gs1mps4a @tulodiscord @teddybat24 @sally-for-sally @ssabriel @jadebomani @stuckyandlarrystuff @veteran-fanperson @ohfuckoffpls @bheemaxrama @chaidrivenwhore @gifseafins  @umbrulla @stars-in-the-distance

#rrr #rrr fanfic #charak #charak fanfic #jr ntr #nandamuri abhay #lakshmi pranathi #my fic #my writing

[mrsvelez]

Just a Dream

(This is my first time doing this, I apologize for any grammar mistakes as English is my second language!)

You really didn’t know how this happened. It was beyond your comprehension how your real life seemed like a dream. You hold on to your suitcase as if it’s the one grounding you, a sacred link to confirm reality, that this was in fact your life. The feeling of an out of body experience was interrupted by the nice SAT agent saying,

- hope you have a fun time at Miami, girl!

- Gracias… thank you!

The truth is, you hope this isn’t JUST fun. You hope it is heavenly, magnificent, life changing, incredible, painfully amazing weekend. After all, this is the first and last time you plan to travel to meet a “stranger” to have a weekend away. The dream really started weeks ago when you got a notification on Instagram. Probably one of your besties tagging you in another almost too inappropriate meme. But it was actually a message. HOLY SHIT. It was a message from him, Christopher Vélez. WHAT!!? You had almost completely forgot how a few weeks maybe even months ago you sent a drunken racy message to him, saying all the things you want to do to him… and he read it? And answered it? A few polite and funny DMs happened here and there, but then the more you texted the more you wanted from him. One day, you asked about a call but both of your schedules were off, so naturally you thought this wasn’t real, you were a victim of catfishing! Christopher had no option but sending you a video of him laughing at your less than classy written outburst, accusing him of not being THE Christopher Velez. After you received the short video, you lost your mind, screaming and jumping in your bed. Once you were able to recover your breathing, a twisted but delicious idea came to your mind. I would like to come and meet you at Miami, if that’s ok with you. Your whole body was shaking once you pressed sent. The three dots showed up almost immediately. How about next weekend? You heard your jaw hit the floor, and started making all kinds of planning. As an independent woman, you wanted to pay for all your expenses, but he insisted on covering the hotel room for 2 nights. Hotel room? As in 1? must be for me, of course you thought. But your subconscious was already playing some kinky scenarios in your sleep. Repeated images of endless possibilities of limbs, mouths and skin intertwined were abruptly interrupted by an alarm reminding passengers to keep track of their belongings and not to trust strangers. You took one look at your suitcase and laugh about its content - it would be pretty embarrassing if a stranger stole it and look at the skimpy content. Well, maybe not all strangers but, you know…

Looking around, seems like nobody noticed you squirming on your seat trying to alíviate the expectation building between your legs. You licked your lips one more time and grabbed your phone to play some music, maybe some Taylor Swift? On shuffle? First song - I Knew You Were Trouble. Skip. Why is my playlist already playing mind games on you? Then, Dress. Skip again. This feels personal. Next song, Death By A Thousand Cuts - ok, at least a humbling melody, preparing you for this experience to be over. It’s going to be a long flight…

The minute the plane touched ground, your heart moved from your chest to your mouth. There were no brain cells left, just pure unhinged lust. Your libido guided you to the closest restroom to get out of your comfy traveling black outfit into a silky slip on red dress, that you bought at the mall the next day after your decision to “visit” Miami. Your hair was looking somehow bouncy man’s voluminous but you were sure the city heat will be merciless, so you arranged it in the best possible way. Some make up on and you took one last breath as a respectable, decent woman. This weekend, I’m a hoe. Christopher Velez’s hoe.

It’s was almost like a checklist going on in your head so you could feel remotely like a functioning adult: get an Uber. Are you breathing? Open the door and take a sit. Yes, yes, thank God for good weather. No, I’m not from Miami. This is the hotel, thank you. Elevadores? Gracias. One foot in front of the other. Take a deep breath. Knock on the door. Checked the number. Are your feet still on the ground? Yes, no floating away. Check down at your boobs, yes they still look great. No need to check your heart beat, you can feel it pounding in your chest, in your ears, in your…

Feeling completely exposed, looking for security cameras around the hallway as if you were about to commit a hideous crime. An eternity went by until you heard the door unlock. Your knuckles white from your hand being in a tight fist. Seeing Christopher there, right in front of you and within reach at the door made your knees weak, and God knows what kind of grin was on your face, but you could feel the heat crawling up your cheeks.

- hola mami - he said as he gestures to come inside the room. You can feel your heartbeat skip a beat.

- Hola - you’re not sure if it was a word, a sigh, or a prayer.

- como estas? How was your flight?

How could he be so casual about this? His arms go around you to give you a hug, right arm above you shoulder and left arm around your waist. You do the same, feeling the tightness of his chest and taking in his intoxicating scent. Musky and almost sweet. You feel your underwear getting moist down there. Christopher pulls back a little and smirks at you, probably your already have a the horniest facial expresión known to human kind. You let go of the hug after staying in his arms for a second too long.

- quieres algo de tomar? Agua?

You place your suitcase by the closet and walk into the room. Remembering to be fully present in this adventure you choose, you gather all self control you have left to turn on your toes, give the biggest smile matching his, and say as innocently as possible, yes please, thanks! You’re so proud of yourself being able to articulate more than two words. Your breathing is almost too loud, as if you just climb the stairs to get to the 15th floor.

Christopher hands you a water bottle from the mini bar, and when you reach out to it you intentionally touch his fingers. You’re shaking. Sparks fly. Whoa. You forgot what water was for, and put it back on the table next to you, making you both bursting into laughter for the silliness of the situation. Christopher takes a step closer to you and says:

- está bien si no quieres agua, guapa, yo no me enojo.

He’s close enough to touch your forearm, sending electric waves EVERYWHERE. Your mind plays dirty on you and you say with a wink:

- pero no estamos aquí para tomar agua!

Christopher smiles back with his thousand dollar smile, looking up and down on you and says:

- Con ese vestido, se me ocurren muchas cosas mas que podemos tomar.

#christopher velez #christopher velez imagine #christopher velez fluf #cnco #cnco chris

[italoniponic]

CHERRY! I feel like I haven't spammed your asks in a while- since before I finally came off of anon -but I've got a stupid mental image that I now need to share with someone. I remember you and I having a short discussion on TWST and Phantom songs a while ago, so I thought you'd be the perfect person to tell.

I just saw Phantom of The Opera live two nights ago (and I bawled like a baby the entire time), and at several points during the show the Phantom would randomly appear above the stage at the cieling- it's hard to describe but there was a walkway hidden above the stage and you didn't realize it was there until the Phantom poked his head out from behind the curtains and literally said "I'm here!!!" and he kept moving around and around and his voice would come from all different directions. It was chaotic and ever so slightly comedic. While waiting for my flight home I was playing TWST and listening to the Phantom of The Opera soundtrack and I conjured up this brilliant yet stupid idea.

NRC for some reason or another, puts on a musical and decides to go with one Yuu/MC described to everyone: The Phantom of The Opera. Yuu is cast as Christine by default. Azul lands the role of Raoul due to his wonderful voice, and he's ecstatic because that means he's Yuu's leading man. Jade is cast as the Phantom, and throughout the entirety of Act 1 he does astonishingly well. He's a perfect Phantom: mysterious, elusive, mature, slightly crazed.

Something happens- nobody knows what -and Floyd takes his brother's place for Act 2... and instead of following the script and cues, Floyd instead sings half of the songs incorrectly and runs on stage when he isn't supposed to, or keeps showing up on the walkway above the stage and making random comments- mostly things such as "man, that Octupus Raoul is super lame and boring."

During Masquerade Floys doesn't even wait until he's actually meant to show up. Instead he walks on stage without his mask, eating something, and sits down on the staircase and doesn't move.

It's not Phantom of The Opera anymore. Rook, the director of the now fiasco, is sobbing. Vil is mad as hell because Floyd has altered the once pristine costume, the only thing in tact is the mask. Thankfully, the audience doesn't actually know how The Phantom of The Opera is supposed to go since it isn't from Twisted Wonderland and they had to go with a rundown from Yuu. But some members are still able to tell that Floyd is NOT doing it right. Mostly due to Azul's flabbergasted expression and Yuu's not so quiet threats "Floyd say your line right or else you're going to be a cooked eel!"

Floyd does the last song perfectly... until the part when the Phantom is supposed to let Christine go. Then Floyd says "nah, don't feel like it." and proceeds to pick up Yuu, push Azul out of the way and run off stage. He doesn't return and he and Yuu are nowhere to be found. Azul is frozen on stage and doesn't know what to do. Rook is now on the floor crying. Deuce's solution to the chaos is to drop a Cauldron in the middle of the stage as a distraction while Jack and Epel close the curtains.

Crowley doesn't even stay to see what happens next. He just leaves. 💀

Kalim, bless his heart, starts applauding and yelling "BRAVO!!!"

awww, Snowy, you're always welcome <3 sorry for replying to this so, so late! but oh God, I loved every little thing in this lmao

I see twst, I see Phantom, I see an opera... TWISSSSTED WONDERLAND IS ALWAYS THEREEEEE, INSIDE MY MIND!!

this play is the most chaotic thing that ever happened in NRC since the Ghost Bride days (and that was only months ago), simply perfect! I loved the octatrio presence here, they're always committed to these kinds of things lmao

AZUL AS RAOUL OMG he does have an incredible voice. I mean, I listened to "Make a Wish" a couple of times already and the way his VA manages to blend with Idia's VA (Uchiyama Koki my beloved) but still be melodic just, oh, melts my hearttt and ofc he uses the chance to court and be romantic to Yuu~

Jade as the Phantom was quite unexpected but I'll allow it lol he would do a good Phantom, I agree. Charming and psychotic, very well... NOW FLOYD DOING THE TWIN-CHANGE AS A TWIST WAS EVERYTHING TO ME LMAO

HE EATING A SANDWICH IN THE STAIRCASE WHILE THE MASQUERADE SCENE IS HAPPENING OH MY GOD SNOWY I'M DYING

I love the detail of Rook crying bc for me, I think was happening for either three things: 1) he's a theater kid and knows well how this is a disaster of epic proportions; 2) he's sobbing at the beauty of chaos and the improv; 3) the two above and that's why he's going insane, bawling his eyes out on Vil's blazer (who's also a certified theater kid). Rook can be critic at times but this conflicts with his ability to have a positive look for everything's beauty... in summary, someone give him a hug

someone actually give Yuu a hug bc they're the most affected by Floyd screwing over this amazing musical

Floyd half the way through the play, live reaction:

FLOYD PICKING YUU UP AT THE FINALE AND PUSHING AZUL OFF HAD ME ON THE GROUND DYING (opposite reaction from Rook, totally)

aaaawwww, man, I want to give Azul a hug!! once I passed through a similar situation on a school project and this is actually one of my past nightmares when it comes to any play/theater I'm acting on (mainly on Church but that's a funny story for another day). c'mon here, Azul, let me hug you, querido <3

DEUCE.

I actually needed a moment to pick myself up bc this was the final bomb. Yes, final bomb. The actual "boom" blow, everything goes everywhere, destruction, chaos, terror, oh God let's run to the mountains, was KALIM APPLAUDING THIS MESS WHILE HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE

the common sense to grasp the fact that even though nobody in Twisted Wonderland knows Phantom of the Opera, they know everything went horribly wrong. horribly.

I loved it, hope they get to do the second day all over again :D

#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #mc/yuu #jade leech #floyd leech #rook hunt #deuce spade #kalim al asim #cherry's friends #cherry's reply #Snowy this was everything #it made my day again bc i already read it but it's still good #amazing BRAVO BRAVÍSSIMA #cherry's mumbling about twst

[maiji]

[images: First three pages of a comic drawn in ink.]

A YYH North Bound story. semarikuru  ("loom") is a 7-page comic. Alt text, full transcript and commentary continue below the cut.

[images: Remaining four pages of comic drawn in ink.]

[page 1] *Hokushin is meditating in seiza/formal seated position with other monks. Text below him reads “semarikuru (loom) - a North Bound story by Maiji”*

[page 2] *Closeup of Hokushin’s face, with eyes closed. The scene shifts to a memory, or perhaps a dream.* ?: Do you think I’m a fool?

[page 3] *A younger Hokushin from the Kamakura era looks up to see Raizen, in a more human disguise, grinning at him. Hokushin’s expression becomes annoyed.* Hokushin: Whyever would you ask me that, my lord? Is it because we find ourselves unceremoniously departing yet another village as a result of your numerous indiscretions? Raizen: Oh, I wasn’t talking about that. (ha ha ha) Hokushin: If you’re asking if you’re stupid about something in particular, you’ll need to be more specific.

[page 4] Raizen: My friends all thought I’d gone mad. *Raizen’s words overlay a flashback of the kudakusushi.* After just one night with her.  And I never even told her my idea. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it? *Hokushin turns his head away from Raizen* Hokushin: If I didn’t believe in your vision, I wouldn’t be here.

[page 5] *He continues walking ahead of Raizen, pushing aside a drooping flowering tree branch.* And you had one night. There are those who have done far more for far less. Some are content to have merely spent time at the other’s side, with no promise of anything. Raizen: I guess that’s true.

[page 6] *Past Hokushin closes his eyes. Scene fades into the petals from the flowering trees back to the present day. Present-day Hokushin opens his eyes and turns his head slightly.*

[page 7] *Hokushin looks out towards the tower where Raizen’s chamber is. The rumbling of Raizen’s stomach fills the air, growing louder. Text reads: “semarikuru (loom) - end”*

My goal here was to try to create a dreamlike mood, moving from reflection/rumination to something brighter than reality that feels inevitable. The knowledge of something looming and casting an invisible shadow over your daily existence, slowly closing that distance in time and space, with nothing you can do about it.

As I mentioned years ago (in the author’s notes of Part 2 of the story Familiar, it’s not clear whether or not Hokushin knew the true cause of Raizen’s abstinence - his life-changing meeting and relationship with the remarkable kudakusushi and subsequent decision to stop eating humans. When Hokushin explains their circumstances to Yusuke, he avoids the details of why Raizen doesn’t eat humans anymore, saying simply that he doesn’t know/understand the king’s reasons. In hindsight, this seems odd considering what a huge deal it is for the fate of their entire kingdom, and knowing Hokushin is Raizen’s right hand. It can be interpreted in a vague, deferring and deflecting way. When I first started North Bound, I wasn’t sure - hadn’t decided - whether or not Hokushin knew. By the time I got to Familiar, I suspected he might. With semarikuru, I decided he does. He just doesn’t see it as his place to be the one to tell Yusuke Raizen’s story, certainly not while Raizen is still alive.

It’s been a while since I did rough messy comics in my sketchbook, so that was fun! The idea for semarikuru came relatively early on in the development of North Bound, but I only started sketching the first few pages this year. Then they sat around for months until this past weekend, when I discovered Yahiro no Kage (sung by Horiuchi Kenyuu, Hokushin’s voice actor), which gave me the MOTIVATION AND POWER I needed to finish this!! Thank you surrogate Hokushin character image song!!!

I’m trying to use up more of my J. Herbin Cacao du Bresil ink (the warm, lavender-pink-brown-grey used throughout the flashback/dream sequence). The dialogue and present-day frames are in a permanent grey ink with Ink Institute’s Cat at Dusk for shading. Cat at Dusk is a very interesting ink; when it’s first laid down, it looks almost greenish grey, then starts to warm up. It too has lavendar-pinky tones to it, but leaning much cooler, and when layered on itself in washes, its edges tend to turn a light aqua. It reminds me of a lighter Diamine Earl Grey.

I was at the end of my sketchbook (started in December 2020!!) so this also ended up turning into an exercise of “can I tighten this script and paneling and transitions to squeeze it into seven pages without messing up the feeling of the pacing too much??” I kept swapping between half-hearted thumbnails and sketching panels right on the page, and turning the page and counting what was left and going oh nooo must compress further… But I managed.

Onto the next North Bound story! And a new sketchbook!

#yu yu hakusho #hokushin #raizen #ink #sketchbook #comics #fancomic #fanart #art by maiji/mary huang #yyh north bound

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

@ckfemslashnetwork

COBRA KAI SAPPHIC SUMMER WEEK 1 GOLDEN

***

HEY YALL

So uh. Remember that 10-minute All Too Well YasMoon fic that I’ve been teasing for well over a year now ???

WELL

LO AND BEHOLD!!! A few months ago, I started writing more than just lil ficlets and started creating this bad boy in FULL!!! So for cksapphicsummer, I’m posting a proper preview because a) fall color is a big thing here and it kinda accidentally fits the “Golden” prompt perfectly and b) god. I’m so proud of this funky little snippet. I’ve had so much fun working on this angstfic and I HAD to share my progress with someone. Writing the out-of-order slow burn of Moon becoming a simp who’s in way over her head has been fantastic tbh.

Also she only gets a mention here, but I had WAY too much fun creating Rosalie, Yasmine’s older (and to most everyone’s mind much cooler) influencer sister. Actually might end up including her in unrelated YasMoon fics too, because god, am I a sucker for sibling character foils :O Also it’s not fair that only Sam gets to have a sibling!!! Like give the other kids siblings!!!

…ironically, despite how spoiled she seems to be, Yasmine is one of the few Cobra Kai kids who doesn’t give off huge Only Child vibes XD Like idk. Idk. So much of Her Whole Deal strikes me as Bratty Overcompensating Younger Sister behavior XD

@karatecaulfield BIG pspsps, here’s a preview from A Big Fic coming up!!!

Preview under the cut!!! Enjoy :3

CW for some pretty crude language, and a character shouting a slur basically for shock value. But it’s one that applies to said character, so…I guess it’s reclaiming?

***

“You can travel the world But nothing comes close to the golden coast”

They were belting the lyrics as Yasmine swerved down mountain roads, rounding bends at what couldn’t possibly be a safe speed. It was times like these she thought she was invincible—away from the suffocating smog, under an endless blue sky, surrounded by fresh mountain air, free from the rest of the world’s expectations. Moon couldn’t tame her if she tried.

“Once you party with us, you’ll be falling in love…”

Moon glanced at Yasmine, and the words melted in her mouth. She burst out laughing.

Yasmine was never that unperturbed. She was all confidence and composure and power, holding onto her throne with tooth and manicured nail. Now she was just a silly, dancing teenager, shimmying back and forth and rocking her head from side to side like some kind of puzzled bird. One arm flailing about like the tube men outside of car dealerships while the other drifted on and off the steering wheel to lazily make turns.

She was grinning like she left all her inhibitions in LA.

“California girls, we’re unforgettable Daisy dukes, bikinis on top Sunkist skin so hot we’ll melt your popsicle”

Yasmine affectionately jabbed Moon’s tanned arm. Moon took a moment to be grateful the very ever-present spray-tan responsible was probably also hiding her blush.

“California girls, we’re undeniable Fine, fresh, fierce, we’ve got it on lock West Coast represent, now put your hands up!”

Yasmine did exactly that, whooping for several seconds. Moon worried they were going to hit the guardrail.

West Valley High’s queen bee self-corrected at the last possible moment, just like always. She grabbed the wheel and they made the turn.

There was something so exhilarating about her when she was like this. When she wasn’t projecting an image that didn’t match what was inside. Her voice was off-key and her movements were the opposite of graceful and every bit of control she usually gripped onto with iron strength flew out the window and into the alpine air.

And somehow, it felt like it used to when Moon finally came home after a long, shitty day of middle school, surrounded by stuck-up classmates and scornful, apathetic teachers. It felt like relief.

The song ended, and an ad came on from that annoying kick-the-competition auto dealer guy. As Yasmine complained for the seventh time about her parents not getting Spotify Premium, Moon looked out the window.

The road to Big Bear had more fall color than she’d ever seen. Only 20 miles outside of LA, and it was a whole different world—cherry reds and fiery oranges and sunset golds mixed into the deep green of impossibly tall pine trees.

It was all so foreign to her, always immersed in year-round flowers and greenery and subtropics. It seemed like something out of a Sunday morning dream, or a good shrooms trip. Strange—unnatural, perhaps—but tranquil all the same.

The aspen trees quaked in a sudden breeze. Several golden leaves peeled off their branches, glinting blindingly in the sunlight as they drifted to the ground.

Moon couldn’t quite explain it, but something felt just right. The energy…it was somehow perfectly aligned, all the stars and moons and planets in position for her to be driving off on a wilderness adventure with Yasmine Pyne.

The universe itself was humming in concord, like everything else that came before and after revolved around that moment.

Like it was the beginning of something too immense to see.

“What’re you gawking at?” Yasmine’s voice had a teasing snicker in it. “Have you never been to the mountains before?”

Moon shrugged. “Not since I was little. We only ever drove up here in the summer, though.”

“God, you should see your face.” There was a note of derision in Yasmine’s voice, but Moon barely noticed. “You look like you popped an E tablet or something.”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Moon smiled, shaking her head. “The trees are so beautiful. They’re reminding me of the healing crystals I still need to buy.”

“Um, what? Where is the connection there?”

Moon turned. The bridge of Yasmine’s nose was scrunched against her eyebrows, the way it always did when she was completely perplexed.

 “The colors, Yas.” Moon couldn’t help but laugh. “The leaves look like citrine. Or…” Her gaze strayed back out the window. “Empowering jasper. Or harmonizing tiger’s eye. Or vitality ruby. There’s so many hues!”

“You are so weird, girl.”

Yasmine laughed, but there was no disdain in it this time. It was an affectionate kind of amused—amusement at Moon’s expense, perhaps, but with an underlying fondness that caught her off-guard.

Moon looked at the autumn trees zipping by, fiery shades gleaming almost as brightly as gemstones in the alpine sun. She started to shift them in her mind, imagining clusters of leaves as giant, glimmering jewels instead. A whole forest of ruby and citrine and jasper and tiger’s eye and topaz and carnelian, polished stones budding from the ends of delicate white branches. A beautiful, serene place, quiet and peaceful. A place of healing. No sound save birdsong and babbling creeks.

She wondered how much more vivid the image would be with caps.

“I’d actually love to trip out here,” she admitted. “It’d be like…the most spiritual thing ever. I feel like there’s a certain kind of ‘oneness with the universe’ around these trees, you know?”

“What, and then wander off the side of a cliff because you’ve convinced yourself you can fly? No thanks.”

Moon sniggered. Yasmine couldn’t sugarcoat something if she tried.

She didn’t pull punches when it came to teasing out the worst-case scenario and she never hesitated when deciding that’s what would inevitably happen.

A wooden sign post flitted past. Moon pressed her palm into the window glass, eyes widening.

A trailhead.

“Let’s go for a hike!”

The words spouted from Moon before she could stop them. She blinked, wholly unsure where the sudden determination came from.

Yasmine spluttered, uncharacteristically lost for words.

“Please,” Moon added plaintively. “Just a short one?”

“Why?” Yasmine demanded, finally finding her voice.

Moon bit her lip, staring at the dashboard.

“I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never been hiking in Big Bear.”

Yasmine scoffed, punctuating the statement with a smack to the steering wheel.

“Nope.” Moon chuckled nervously, hoping this wasn’t something Yasmine decided was worthy of giving her shit about.

Her friend only snorted in disbelief. “You haven’t been hiking up here,” she said again. “Aren’t your parents like…tree-hugging mega-hippies or something? Seems like they’d be all about that meditative outdoorsy shit.”

Moon laughed, shaking her head. “Well, they’re more like…smoke-a-bunch-of-stuff-in-a-sweat-lodge-and-see-the-entire-pagan-pantheon kind of hippies. Not really the one-with-nature kind of hippies.”

“But you are, huh?”

Yasmine raised her eyebrows, and Moon’s cheeks grew hot.

“I don’t know. I guess so. Nature calms me down when I’m stressed. Helps unblock my root chakra when it gets a little clogged.”

They passed a particularly beautiful grove of red maple trees, and Moon sucked in her breath.

“If we could just…stop and take a little walk somewhere…”

“Mooooon.” Yasmine dragged her name into a whine. “I’m wearing designer boots. If I get too much dirt on them, my mom will skin me alive and use my eviscerated corpse to make another pair.”

“Oh my god.” Moon snickered. “Don’t be so dramatic. Your mom is nice! She’s not going to flip out over a little dust.”

“You don’t know her,” Yasmine grumbled.

“I’ll take the blame if she gets mad. Promise.” Moon gave her friend her most pleading look. “I’ll say…I don’t know. I got you really high and we ran around in the dirt or something. But mountain trails aren’t usually that dirty! At least I don’t think.”

Yasmine whimpered, glancing from the car clock out the window and back again.

At the next trailhead, Yasmine slammed the brakes. Moon yelped, lurching forward as the range rover screeched to a stop in a pullover surrounded by soaring pines and gold-tinged scrub bushes.

“Oh, fuck it. Rosalie’s not expecting us until 4 anyways.”

Moon smiled at her lap. She got the feeling Yasmine could have fought her harder.

***

“Tell me a secret.”

“What?” Moon’s sandals dug into the trail, grinding her to a halt.

“Tell me a secret.” Yasmine turned, hair backlit by mountain sunshine. “Come on. If you’re going to insist we trek out into the middle of buttfuck nowhere, you’d better have some juicy gossip for where absolutely no one can hear us.”

She leaped onto a nearby boulder with surprising grace, boots deftly clinging to the gaps in a way that suggested she hadn’t always been as averse to physical exertion as she was now.

“DICK AND BALLS!” Moon was completely unprepared for her friend to cup her mouth and shout at the top of her lungs. “MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKING SHITHEADS! GODDAMN PUSSY-EATING DYKES! I’LL PISS IN YOUR MOUTH!”

The forest only answered Yasmine’s abundance of profanity with wind, songbird calls, and one or two annoyed crows. Not another human soul to be heard.

“See?” Yasmine turned, her grin conniving. “No one’s going to hear any of this shit besides us. You can literally say anything you want out here. It’d be a waste not to spill some tea.”

She spread her arms, and for a moment, she looked like a bird. An elegant, dainty little yellow warbler, about to take flight or break into song.

“No one can fuck with us out here!” she crowed. For a moment, Moon felt almost as free as her.

Moon laughed, shaking her head. She hadn’t known what to expect from the blonde girl in the yellow designer sundress, making snide comments in her math class, but these unrestrained dramatics were definitely not it.

“So come on, then.” Yasmine scaled down the rock as easily as she’d climbed it. “Tell me something scandalous, Moon.”

Moon frowned, quickening her pace to catch up. “Why?”

“Because. Maybe I want to get to know the girl I’m hauling up into the mountains to see my sister, huh?”

“We don’t need deep, dark secrets for that, do we?”

“Not technically, but I’m bored of all the other shit.” Yasmine groaned. “‘Where’d you go to middle school, did you grow up here, do you have any brothers or sisters,’ blah blah blah. We covered all the small talk crap when we ditched for brunch. I want something more interesting.”

Moon’s cheeks grow hot. “I don’t know if I’m hiding anything that interesting.”

“Oh, bullshit.” Yasmine turned, gray-green eyes boring into Moon. The blonde started walking backwards just in front of her friend, maintaining very intense and very judgmental eye contact the entire time. “Everyone’s got a little dirt on them, Moon. You just have to scrape it up.”

Feeling a sudden rush of bravery (perhaps the empowering jasper-colored leaves were to blame), Moon crossed her arms and returned Yasmine’s smirk. “And why should I give you my dirt?”

“Because.” Those stormy irises had a cunning gleam in them. “What’s a few secrets between best friends?”

“Best friends!” Moon laughed in surprise. “We barely know each other. And I’m your—well, I mean.” She found herself stumbling over her words. “What about everyone else at the table? Your middle school crew?”

“Oh, well.” Yasmine rolled her eyes dismissively. “Jenna, Harper, Aubrey—they’re all fake as fuck. Dumb sluts are using me to get a taste of what it’s like at the top. I know the knives come out whenever my back’s turned.” Her lips curled into a sneer. “It’s whatever, honestly. I’d just as soon get rid of them as soon as they stop making us look good. But you…”

For the first time in a while, the scornful look dropped completely.

“You’re different, Moon. You’re…real. Not basic and boring like every other bitch that follows me around.”

If Moon’s cheeks weren’t on fire before, they certainly were now.

“You really mean that?”

“Yeah, duh. I wouldn’t take you out here if you weren’t worlds better than all the other losers at our trash-ass school. Now…”

The genuine look that briefly shone through morphed into a smirk. Mood wondered if she’d imagined it.

Yasmine leaned forward, smirk widening. Without warning she grabbed both of Moon’s hands, tangling their fingers together as she continued to effortlessly saunter backwards. “Tell me a secret, Moon.”

“I…”

Moon could feel what was hovering just behind her lips. The words threatening to tangle with the mountain air and wash over Yasmine like a cold breeze, causing her hands to jerk away and her face to twist in that oh-so-familiar disgust.

I’m not normal.

It was something in the way that all through elementary school—and all through the turbulent tides of middle school, too—her eyes weren’t only drawn by soccer players showing off at recess, or the track stars who could run more gym class laps than anyone. Boys who dripped confidence like sweat and gleamed like fresh-minted coins, the names inside the hearts every girl doodled.

Just as often she found herself drawn to the ballet dancers and the child beauty pageant winners and the sirenlike voices of the girls in choir. Often as not, her mind was on billowing hair and purple nails and the scent of fruit shampoo as much as the testosterone and cologne of the ever-boisterous boys.

And it was a fascination that went beyond friendship. Moon knew that much.

She was able to join in with the other girls, gushing about the guys they liked and making bets on who would ask who to the next dance. But there was always half of it left unsaid.

She’d never told a soul. Not her easygoing parents. Not her middle school gang. No one. It was an anomaly that belonged to her and her alone.

And Moon wasn’t about to drive away her newest friend, in all her power and mystique and sheer magnetic energy.

Yasmine must’ve seen the gears turning behind her eyes. She groaned, yanking especially hard on Moon’s hands with an exaggerated eyeroll.

“Oh, fine. I’ll go first if you’re not gonna spill.”

Moon raised her eyebrows. “That was an option?”

Yasmine scoffed. “I mean, if you’re just going to stand there looking constipated…”

Moon couldn’t find a response.

Which probably made her look even more constipated.

“I don’t actually wake up like this.” Yasmine grinned mischievously, giving those flawless yellow locks of hers a graceful flip. “And it’s not Maybelline, either. I have to wake up at 5 fucking o’clock every morning to straighten this bitch. But better that than go to school looking like a fucking hobo.”

Moon laughed.

“So you don’t wake up with perfect hair? That’s not very scandalous.” Yasmine gasped, sounding half offended. “It is if you’re someone with my rep!”

“Well, if it’s that important to you…” Moon sniggered. “I won’t tell anyone. But for what it’s worth, I think the other kids would be impressed you put so much time into looking perfect.”

“Oh, no way. They need to think it’s like…an inherent part of my personality that I’m flawless and untouchable. Otherwise they might start getting ideas about replacing me if they style their hair for long enough.”

She had to laugh again.

“I don’t think you need to worry. The entire school knows they could never hold a torch to you.”

For a moment, uncertainty flickered through those stormcloud eyes.

Like the fear of being dethroned was greater than Yasmine let on.

“Damn right,” she said, smug expression returning. She tugged Moon’s hands again, bringing the girls close enough that Moon could smell traces of the strawberry-and-nutella crepes she had for breakfast.

“Your turn,” she purred.

“Um…”

Moon paused, pushing thoughts of her unspoken strangeness away. Yasmine didn’t need to know that.

“I’m worried that people think I’m kind of stupid,” she said instead.

Yasmine looked genuinely thrown off for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

Her expression turned…not serious exactly, but more thoughtful and curious than Moon was used to. None of its usual smugness.

“My friends from middle school, they—they all went to these private Ivy League prep schools. I, uh…I think some of their parents bribed their way in, but some of them were genuinely just that smart. Either way, my parents weren’t willing to pull strings to get me in. They’re really, um…‘go with the flow’ in a way that they, like, don’t like to exert a lot of effort on anything they don’t need to. Which includes keeping me with my friends, I guess.”

Moon took a breath, almost hoping Yasmine would interrupt.

Yasmine didn’t. Only waited with uncharacteristic patience for her to finish.

“I told them at 8th grade continuation I didn’t make it into Harvard-Westlake. They, um…they looked at me like I was some kind of reject. And they started talking about all the things they were gonna do in high school.” Moon winced at the memory. “Kelsey was gonna learn Latin. Rachel was gonna get into Hollywood. Tess was gonna figure out how to become like…some political diplomat or something. And I guess it was just like…we’d been together through the thick and thin of everything, and suddenly I was some dumb bimbo who wasn’t even worthy of licking the dirt they stepped on. And after that night, I never heard from any of them again.”

Yasmine’s only response was a curled lip. “Ew.”

Moon’s stomach sank. “You think I’m also…?”

Yasmine’s scowl deepened. “No, your stupid friends. They sound like a load of self-righteous bitches.” She scoffed. “Girl, you’re well-rid of them. You stuck around and they’d try to make you into a fucking lame loser nerd just like them. Who the fuck uses Latin in their day-to-day existence, anyways?!”

Moon found herself laughing.

“Yeah, I guess Kelsey was always kind of prissy that way.”

“Half the shit they teach in high school doesn’t matter in the real world, anyways.” Yasmine rolled her eyes. “And yeah, even at prep schools, too. Take all the acting classes and political science you want, but if you don’t know someone important in the industry, you’re not getting shit. The world runs on nepotism, so…your old bitches are going to get fucked over so bad.”

Something about Yasmine’s overconfident scorn soothed her. No one who spoke that surely could be wrong…right?

Moon chuckled. “Is it bad that I kind of hope they do?”

“Nah. Would serve the dumb fucks right.” Yasmine’s smirk returned—bigger than any she’d worn all afternoon. “I should be thanking them, really. They ditched by far the coolest person in their group, and now I get you all to myself.”

Moon only hoped Yasmine didn’t see how red her own cheeks were turning.

“For the record, though…”

Yasmine seemed to search her face, expression suddenly unreadable.

“I don’t think you’re stupid. I mean…not that it matters anyways, because pretty people get jobs more than smart people do, but being good at the crap they teach in school doesn’t mean anything. Being able to read people, knowing who you can open up to and who’s a damn snake, figuring out how to talk people into giving you what you want…that’s what matters. And you’ve got more intuition than anyone I’ve met in a long time.”

Well, if having intuition was what mattered…

Moon only hoped she was reading Yasmine right.

***

Some random author’s notes, in no particular order:

Love that Yasmine is canonically a terrible driver. Like she accidentally kick-started the entire plot because her dumb ass was texting and driving and rammed right tf into Johnny Lawrence’s car. I have every reason to believe she’s this bad of a driver in every situation 💛 Absolute trash queen 👑

Writing S1 Yasmine is so much fun because she’s SO unapologetically shitty, like. You can have her say the most deranged shit and it’s completely in character??? Delightfully challenging to figure out how fucking anyone could fall inconsolably head-over-heels for her, especially someone as naturally good-natured as Moon!!! Like she was simping—I know it in my soul—but how the FUCK did that happen???

Also no I absolutely do not count Demetri’s “feelings” as falling inconsolably head-over-heels for her—mans was faking being straight to get Miguel not to abandon him and then felt he had to Commit To The Bit. I WILL die on this hill btw.

On a related note, though!!! I’ve probably watched the S1 Yasmine scenes DOZENS of times for this fic (not a single fucking one without her girlfriend btw), and after a while you start to pick up on some like…unexpected softness you didn’t notice before? Like she seems genuinely pleased Sam is enjoying throwing her party! She plays wingwoman and sets Sam up with Kyler! (Granted, there could have been ulterior motives here—namely distracting Sam so she doesn’t notice That Gay Shit going on between her two new best friends—but the act in of itself didn’t seem malicious.) She’s a tad overprotective of Moon when she believes Sam has been talking crap, and tells Sam to get the hell out of Moon’s car!!! She genuinely looks hurt when Moon chooses Hawk and Co. over her!!! Like it’s few and far between, but she definitely seems to care about her friends on some level, even at her worst. With that in mind, it’s a lot easier to write Moon getting smitten with her!

Adding onto this—rewatching the S1 Yasmine clips, it’s kind of striking how often she refers to herself and Moon as a unit, especially during the 1x05 car scene with Sam. “Kyler told us what you said.” “You think you’re better than us.” “We know what went down.” She says “Moon, let’s go” when about to ditch the beach party instead of just storming off because of course she’s not leaving without Moon (who she chose to stay with over going with Kyler btw!). She doesn’t even consider it a possibility until Moon outright says it. Not only is this a cool parallel to a thing S1 Demetri also does (I.e. frequently uses “we” to speak for both him and Eli from a place of misguided-ish overprotectiveness and the confidence that “I know what’s best for both of us as a unit”), but this is something a lot of long-term couples I know irl tend to do!!! When I talk about movies with my roommate, he tends to say “we (I.e. him and his fiancé) did/didn’t like it.” When my married friend thanked me for catsitting, he said “we really appreciate it.” Point being that even at her absolute worst, Yasmine is never actually just thinking about herself—she’s thinking about herself and Moon, right up until Moon chooses to ditch her! Anyways yeah these girls were a Thing sorry. If they have a tendency that immediately calls to mind my married and engaged friends, that’s. A little gay???

Also worth noting that Yasmine only really breaks from Moon in 1x09, and then as SOON as she appears again in S3, she’s once again glued to Moon’s hip. Girl literally cannot stay away from Moon akfssrfuhbi

But all that aside!!! S1 Yasmine genuinely sucks so bad. Like GIRL. You fat-shamed a girl for no fucking reason. You verbally eviscerated an ugly sweater kid just minding his business and probably jump-started his Evil Journey tbh. You slut-shamed your ex-friend all over the internet after she almost got sexually assaulted. You cut off your closest friend and fuck buddy because she dared to ask you to stop being horrid. What in the actual hell is wrong with you. I am horrified and fascinated. I want to study Yasmine like a bug.

And I am, via this fic!!! God, am I having a blast with it. Fully intend to continue delving into why she’s the actual fucking worst and giving her the nuance the showrunners never bothered with 💛

I spent like 3 hours researching “prep schools” in the San Fernando Valley, and watched a whole-ass tour video for Harvard-Westlake to determine what Moon’s shitty (or shittier) ex-friends went off to study that made her feel inadequate. Please be proud of me for doing a deep dive into this weird niche topic to make my weird niche pairing fic feel authentic XD

Deadass role-playing as an Uber-wealthy Encino parent looking for a good, respectable high school for their spoiled 8th grader was. An incredibly bizarre experience. I do not want kids, I could not afford them even if I did, and I do not have anything anywhere close to a rich suburban husband to discuss a kid’s school options with. I guess this is the essence of trying to explore lived experiences that will never belong to you???

I legitimately do think Moon is smarter than she comes off as (Demetri wouldn’t fuck with her otherwise!) and is somewhat insecure about being seen as “dumb” because she’s bubbly, hyperfemme, conflict-averse, and in touch with her spirituality. I don’t think she likes admitting this, though—she doesn’t like “burdening” others with her own demons!

Considering Yasmine’s “natural” hairstyle in S3 appears to be more wavy, girl probably spent an ungodly amount of time and effort straightening her hair in season 1. Like yeah, she was mean at, but can you blame her??? Bitch was probably running on like 4 hours of sleep a night!

Jenna, Harper, and Aubrey are some of the extras at the Rich Girls Table! I’ve mentioned in other posts, but I’ve always kind of wondered about them, and What Their Deal Was that they’re only sometimes worthy of hanging out with Yasmine XD Git hyped to see more of them in this and other planned YasMoon fics!!!

Continuing to love looking into crystals/spirituality/incense/other kinds of Wiccan-adjacent things I think Moon would be into! As a woman of science, I’m not sure if I buy into that, but I do think it’s genuinely fascinating and fun to explore and research! There’s a lot of pretty cool and interesting belief systems out there to explore when you go in without obsessing over whether something’s 100% true or false and whatnot.

Yes, Californians really do get that hyped about seasons. I would know—I moved there after growing up in the Midwest, and seeing Californians get hyped about seeing snow or massive amounts of fall foliage for the first time is just about the most pure thing ever ;_____; But it’s definitely not out of the question for Moon to get that pumped about fall color aksssdtchh

I kind of love the idea of Moon always knowing she was bisexual, but not building the confidence to proudly tell it to the world until Piper helped her to 💗💜💙

Bitches be holding other bitches’ hands on an isolated hiking trail and think that’s a Straight and Normal thing to do. Like come on. We all know what you are, Yasmine.

Can’t give y’all an exact posting estimate for the whole fic, but I’m not giving up on it anytime soon (having WAY too much fun with this angst to do that!!!) and will try to get the rest of it done as soon as I can!!! Hoping ideally by sometime this coming winter :3

#cksapphicsummer #yasmoon #yasmine x moon #moon x yasmine #yasmine cobra kai #moon cobra kai #fanfic #fanfiction #cobra kai #cobra kai season 1 #(this takes place prior to S1 btw--around the beginning of the girls' freshman year before they were friends with Sam!) #femslash #wlw #lesbian #sapphic

[bella-goths-wife]

Growing old together: Bo x reader

Bo looked at himself in the mirror as he thought about the day ahead, he was finally gonna do it. Bo Sinclair was about to marry the love of his life.

It had been two years since the day you first met when your car had broken down and you came to Ambrose looking for help, that day Bo was sure he had died and gone to heaven.

You were so beautiful, you walked with confidence you held yourself with grace. You were amazing in every single way.

Bo was originally going to kill you but seeing you and talking to you quickly shooed the thought from his head. The more he talked to you the more he realised that you were not only funny but intelligent and charming.

You stayed for two years and Bo was grateful for every moment and here he was, waiting at the church for you to enter so he could finally make an honest person of you.

The wedding songs began as you entered and Bo was speechless. You were an angel, a masterpiece, a heavenly image only few could ever wish to see. Your white outfit Flowed around you and hugged your figure making you look like a lost deity.

Vows were exchanged and every soft word was encouraged with declarations of love and affection. You ended the ceremony with a passionate kiss as Vincent and Lester cheered and made the wax figure clap at your union.

About a year into your marriage the arguments started. The subject would range from Bo’s yelling to his drinking to your lack of following through when it came to Ambrose’s victims.

The fights were viscous and challenging for you both. Bo knew one night full of yelling that you were going to leave him, he could see it in your beautiful, honest eyes. They were always your opening to your true feelings.

Bo couldn’t lose you, how would he go on if the person he worshiped left. You couldn’t go, he wouldn’t handle it.

He got control of himself and for a month worked on your marriage by taking you out to dates and going to therapy.

The hard work eventually paid off as you eventually got your marriage back to its old passionate, loving relationship. He made a promise to you that day that he would forever be yours in body, mind and soul.

Three years later your belly was round and you were expecting your first child with Bo. He was ecstatic and terrified of becoming a dad. What if he turned out to be his parents? What if something happened to you? What if your body couldn’t take it.

You comforted him through these thoughts and reassured him that you and he would be fine and whatever happened, you would have each other body, heart and soul.

You gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who you named Sophia. She looked like a carbon copy of you but with Bo’s smile. She held Bo’s smile and you would constantly say that it was your favourite of her features.

You had three more children after that, two boys and the youngest was another daughter. They were raised by parents who were not afraid to show they’re playful love and they’re adoration for each other.

Everything was perfect. Everything is perfect. Everything will be perfec- Bo’s eyes snapped open, why was he being shaken? What’s happening? Where were you?

“Papa” a voice called out. Bo looked up to see a girl who looked exactly like a twenty year old you, but she wasn’t you? Where were you?

“(Y/n)??” Bo said panicked, looking desperately around the room for you. He got out of the chair he was sitting in “who are you?” Bo asked

The girl sighed “it’s me papa, it’s Sophia” she said attempting to put Bo back into the chair “your daughter”

Bo looked her up and down confused “but you got so big” he said with confusion.

“I know papa I’m twenty one” she said looking at him misty eyed. Why was she so sad? What’s happening. But before he could think of anything else one fought rushed to his mind.

“Where’s my wife?” He said panicked “where’s (y/n)?”

“Oh papa” the girl sighed before looking back at him “mama died a year ago”

“What? No…” he said as he felt his world crumble “how she was so healthy?”

“She had a problem with her heart” Sophia explained “the doctors tried to help her but by the time she was diagnosed it was too late”

Bo felt tears falling down his face as he looked at himself in the mirror behind Sophia. When did he get so old? What used to be smile creases had turned into crows feet. What used to be laugh lines had turned to wrinkles and his once dark hair had turned grey and frail.

“Let’s get you to bed papa it’s late” Sophia said before leading him to his bedroom.

When they got inside Bo noticed that the left side of the bed, your side, had laid made up while his side was more lived in.

Before lying down, Bo grabbed a photo of a young you and him from the nightstand and held it to his chest. Sophia kissed his forehead before heading to the door.

“Goodnight papa” she said Turning off the light “I love you”!

And with that he was left with his thoughts. For hours he stared at the ceiling and thought about how he was meant to go on without you.

At some point his eyes closed and he fell asleep and during that sleep his heart had stopped. Bo’s eyes snapped open to see you standing at the edge of the bed, you were looking exactly like you did the day of the wedding. You looked at him with an adoring smile.

“Are you ready baby?” You said and reached your hand out.

Bo looked at the bed and saw his now dead body let out it’s last breath. He looked down at his conscious self and saw his wedding tuxedo on his young body.

“I’m ready sweetheart” he said grabbing you hand and smiling “I missed you stupid”

“I missed you more idiot” you said lovingly before stepping outside the house “it’s time to go baby”

This time Bo had actually seen an angel and this time Bo had actually died and gone to heaven.

Heaven was wherever he was with you.

#slashers x reader #dad bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader fluff #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x female reader #bo Sinclair x reader angst #bo Sinclair x gender neutral reader #angst #slasher x reader angst #slashers x fem reader #slasher x gender neutral reader #slasher x reader fluff #house of wax

[monstersimpologist]

The sun will shine again

Prologue chapter

"I am so ready to graduate already!" Olivia says as she stretches her back out, "I'm so done with homework." The five friends all sat together in their usual booth at the local diner. "it'll be nice to get a break for a while," Rylee chimed in. It was a sunny Saturday three weeks till the end of their senior year, and everyone was ready for it to be over. "All I know is that I'm ready for more time to practice. I almost have my part of Through the Fire and Flames down." Alex tosses a fry into her mouth. "You're unnatural. You've only been on that song, what; a month?" "it's called practice, Lucas. Maybe if you knew the meaning of the word, you'd be half as good as me." Lucas puts his hand over his heart, feigning pain. Isaac jumps to his friend's defense, "and maybe if you didn't get into so many fights, your grades would be half as good as his." They all burst into laughter. "Someone has to show those assholes they can't just go around bulling people. And besides, c's aren't that bad."

Rylee and Olivia exchange a glance, knowing full well that her grades wouldn't be that high without their help. after they finish lunch, they decide to head down the street to kill some time at the nearby dance studio. They were friends with the owner and got to hang out there whenever they wanted as long as they kept the place clean. Say what you will about freestyle dancing, but it was a good way to stay fit and it was something fun to do when living in a small town like theirs. It was hours later by the time the lot of them finished up and were getting ready to leave. Alex notices a few missed calls from Olivia's dad. "Hey Olivia, did your dad call you?" She shrugs as Alex calls back. He doesn't answer. Olivia gives him a call, "Hey dad, what's up? We are at the studio…" She stares at her phone. "He hung up." They all exchange curious glances at each other. A few minutes go by and all of a sudden, they see her dad pull up in his police car. As soon as they see him walk through the door, and instantly know something is wrong. He was always known to be very mild-mannered and being the chief of police, he has experience dealing with a lot on the job. But when they saw him walk through the door, his eyes were red and puffy; looking like he spent the last hour crying. He stops just inside the door and looks at Alex. He takes a second before speaking. "Alex, I need to talk to you. Alone." Stepping outside, it was just Mr. Jensen and her. "Alex, there was an incident an hour ago. Your parents were involved. They died, Alex." The news hits Alex like a ton of bricks. There was no way. It was impossible. "Take me to them." "Alex, I…" "Now!" The two of them jump into the police car leaving the rest of the friends inside the studio. They drive in complete silence and before long, they reach the police station. The station was hectic with officers moving about, but as soon as she walks in the door, they all stop and look her way. The growing pit in Alex's stomach threatened to swallow her at this point. Mr. Jensen puts his hand around Alex's shoulders and walks with her to the back where the elevator was located, eyes following them the whole way. The elevator takes them down to the morgue and she stops just in front of the door. The doors open and her breath catches in her throat. The coroner had placed blankets over the two bodies lying on the table but left the faces exposed. Alex's legs felt like lead as she stepped into the room; time slowed to a halt. There, laying on the tables, faces almost as white as the blankets, were her parents. Her world came crashing in around her in that very instant. Her vision started to darken and there was a roaring in her ears. Mr. Jensen was saying something, but she didn't hear a single word that was said. All she saw was the bodies on the tables in front of her. Without thinking, she just started running. Running out of the station, running away from the image burned into the back of her skull. She ran all the way home; lungs burning and legs about to buckle. She bursts through the door, not bothering to close it. taking the stairs two at a time, she finds herself in her parents' bedroom. Alex finally breaks down, sobbing so hard, she could barely breath. Alex has never felt so empty. She crawls into the bed and drags the blankets over her. It was a little while later when she heard a soft knock on the door. "Alex? Can I come in?" It was Olivia, speaking as softly she could. "No." There was a pause, "Please, talk to me. I'm here for you. We can talk…" Alex doesn't let her finish, "just leave me alone!" Alex was shouting this time. She instantly regretted yelling at her best friend like that when Olivia was just trying to help, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize. After a few moments of silence, muffled steps could be heard going down the stairs and the front door closing. And just like that, it was just Alex and the soul crushing silence of an empty house.

#yautja #predator #alien vs predator #yautja x reader #yautja x human #slow burn

[mediocreclementine]

Big top burger dredged up my memory of going to see CATS (the musical) many years ago. This was sometime in 2018 or 2019 but well before the announcement of the movie.

A friend said that their aunt had gotten tickets to see our local Broadway production of CATS and for whatever reason had bailed, given their dad the tickets, and as such they invited me and another friend to go with them.

We arrived at the theater around dusk, it was a lovely evening, weather nicer than it had been in weeks, the venue was stunning, the atmosphere was comfortable and brimming with the excitement of friends who hadn't gotten to do anything fun in a while, and the anticipation of a good show. As we watched the show, we were awestruck by the production quality, the costuming, the performance of the actors, it was a breathtaking labor of love on the part of the theater company. In spite of the beauty and splendor, however, we'd all become incredibly, horribly bored and confused by the show itself by the time the first intermission came around. It was impossible to tell what in the name of God the lyrics to the songs were since half the cats' names were made up words, and in live theater it can be hard to make out words anyways over music. With some guilt about not sticking around for the end of the show, we opted to go to a nearby coldstone creamery for a Tasty Treat instead.

By this point it was dark and getting kind of late. As we were eating our Ice Cream Treats I got a call from my mom, frantically asking when I'd be home. Confused, I gave a vague timeframe and asked why, to which she replied that the weather was about to get very very bad.

Now, mind you, I live in Oklahoma, a state known for bigotry, an okay basketball team, tornadoes, and not much else. Mostly tornadoes I think. That evening i had heard no murmurs of impending severe weather. To suddenly hear your mom freaking out about weather with no prior hint that severe storms were coming is grounds to dismiss it as paranoia. As we were leaving though, the rain started.

I must admit the memory blurs a bit past this point, but etched into my mind are images less than 30 minutes later of streets flooding, half-illuminated by streetlights on their dying breaths, and sometimes fully-illuminated by lightning. Wind hitting the car so hard that you feel it jerk to the side, the usual.

Next thing I remember is driving home in my little fucked up '04 Hyundai, having just gotten my license a few months prior, not having experience driving in the rain, nor the dark, carefully yet frantically going through pitch black streets with a foot of water on them as the radio weatherman informed me that there was a tornado not-quite-yet-on-the-ground headed straight for where I was. I was terrified, wondering what I would do if I needed to take shelter in the pitch black pouring rain at midnight, instantly imagining my house getting destroyed or getting caught up in a tornado while stuck in the car, still trying to get home while getting one of my first real Rainy Night Driving experiences, and in spite of it all, thinking to myself:

"I am so so glad we didn't stay to see the end of cats."

#mc rambles #big top burger #cats #cats the musical

[youarestellarverse]

[image description: a purple banner that has the words “work in progress” on it. end of description]

I think maybe I need another sideblog for this, lol. It's turning into a monster.

Epistolary/fake reddit post take 3: Ruby/"Pearl", in her own words.

Originally posted here by u/princess_and_the_pearl on r/relationshipgoals:

Princess And The Sweatpants

(or, Prince Charming Magically Transforms a Sick Day into a Spa Retreat)

Bear with me. Brain fog is a hell of a drug. 

I (26NB) was diagnosed with fibromyalgia two years ago after about six months of symptoms, which was astonishingly fast for anyone and downright miraculous considering that at the time, I still thought I was a cis man, and I presented very much that way. There are people who don't believe that's even possible. Several doctors have questioned my diagnosis, asking suspiciously isn't that only in women? 

Strangely, when I'm wearing a dress, they don't do that. 

Anyway, I have fibromyalgia, which means I constantly feel like I did that time in high school after I played a football game while actively suffering from acute appendicitis (it burst within forty seconds of me getting on the field, because duh, and I almost died— thanks, Dad, for making me play when I had a fever of 104 and I was telling you I felt like someone was spearing me through the back— but that's another story.) 

Feverish, sore everywhere, sick to my stomach, like my skin is bruised. The worst part is the fatigue. I get so tired during flares that I can sleep 14 hours a day and wake up exhausted. The only other time I've felt like this was when I was sixteen and fighting off sepsis. 

I bring up football mostly because I look like a football player. I was a heavyweight before I got my diagnosis (though I've dropped a lot; my MIL keeps "just happening to be in the neighborhood"— two hours away, mind— with baked goods and stuff). I'm close enough to 6'6 to round up to it if I wanted. I have been told I have the rugged, thoughtful face of a stern, ancient Roman politician. I wear shoes so big that half the time they don't even make them in men's sizes. 

And most of the time, that's fine! I'm okay with it when, as my (genuinely) Dear Husband/Prince Charming (27M) puts it, my "gend-o-meter" is pointed towards guy, which is still more often than not. 

But it gets to me otherwise, which Charming knows. He also has this very eerie ability to tell where that meter is pointed without asking me. He says it's something about my posture, but he's not sure exactly what. All I know is he's never wrong, and he always knows the best time to pop his head around the corner, smile his sweet smile, say "Hey, babe, guess what?" and then burst into a corny pop song. 

[Relevant comment from PC himself:

girl you got my heart racing in your skin-tight jeans~ 🥰😍😚💙💙]

Last week (midsummer for posterity), I was having a hell of a time with a rash of thunderstorms. Everything hurt so badly I could barely think straight. It was like every injury I'd ever had was fresh again, and being a football player, I've gotten banged up a lot. I had five migraines over the span of eight days. I lost a scary amount of weight because I could barely keep anything down. 

Eventually my BFFs (we'll call them BFFa, 26F, and, BFF1, 25M, because I don't want to rank them against each other) came out and stayed over the weekend. They made an enormous batch of corn chowder, which was so good it overrode my nausea and lack of appetite and was all I could manage for about 3 days straight. (It's really excellent chowder.)

I'm glad they were here, because I've never had gender dysphoria come on in the middle of a flare before, and I freaked Charming out pretty good when I got halfway through my food and suddenly had enough energy to burst into tears. BFFa is very calming and good at talking people through things, and she helped me articulate while making sure my husband didn't panic. BFF1 isn't as comfortable with emotional displays, but he makes a damn good rice pudding and it's really hard to stay upset when the house smells so nice. 

DH, anxiety managed, was able to throw himself into planning mode. He started by calling our mastiff (5F) and having her lay with me while he drew a bath (she's allowed on the bed after a specific command; she was already trained as a service dog when we inherited her, which was incredibly lucky for me because I realized I needed one about a month later). 

He's helped me take care of myself before. I quit football because of an injury that destroyed my mobility, and for about three months I was completely reliant on him for almost everything. He helped me stand up to pee. I can't ever pay him back for what he's done for me, but he says the same thing, so we must be even in his mind. 

He's always been sweet about it, but he really went all out this time: he lit dozens of beeswax candles,  put rose oil and floated petals in the bathwater, set up the shower stall with my chair and a rose-vanilla shower bomb, and hooked up my iPod to the bathroom speakers so he could shuffle through my playlist of all the love songs he's ever sung me. 

Then he got me out of my depressed college student chic (the aforementioned sweatpants and my alma mater's t-shirt), helped me into a silk robe that didn't hurt my skin, and supported my weight as we walked. 

He got me settled in the shower chair, then stripped and joined me. I didn't have to lift a finger, which was good, because I couldn't without my shoulder seizing up. (He took care of that, too. He's the only person willing to massage me hard enough that I can actually feel it. Everyone else gets too worried about hurting me. Ha.) 

After I was clean, he brought out a razor. That man shaved my legs for me, and I have a lot of leg, so that's no small feat. 

I'm honestly not sure if I was crying. I think I must have been, because he kept kissing my knees and ankles every time he finished a pass. He sang along with the playlist, too. When you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while. I got sunshine on a cloudy day. I don't know why you're being shy. I think you're pretty without any makeup on. 

...yeah, in retrospect, I was definitely crying. 

I felt so much better it didn't matter. He washed my hair, then helped me into the bath and knelt beside the tub and rubbed my neck while I soaked and let the water support my joints. 

Let me tell you: if you've got a partner suffering from chronic pain, this is one of the best ways you can make them feel pampered and loved. 100/10; do recommend.

And that wasn't even the end of it. 

While we were in the bathroom, BFFa was going through my wardrobe. Charming helped me back into the robe, and when I got back to our room she'd changed out the sheets and set out my softest, most comfortable cotton maxi dress. 

It's very pretty. I made it out of fabric my husband's best man (28M) whipped up for me with fiber from his partner's cashmere goats. He used blue potato peels for dye, which gives it a beautiful muted color that transitions from blue to pink via clever use of anthocyanin reactions.

He also dyed some cashmere yarn to match it, which I found out when my baby SIL (minor) gave me a gorgeous crocheted shawl for Christmas last year. It was laid out beside the dress, which was perfect, because one of my symptoms is that I can't regulate my body temperature very well; having it available to take off and put on as-needed was great.

It felt wonderful on my skin. They got me settled in bed again, our dog in her own bed on the floor (still tall enough for me to scratch her ears 💜). Then they facetimed Prince Charming's gf (29F, she's also married to my drag mother), and she walked him through putting on my makeup and styling my hair into a pixie. 

I honestly never thought it possible that I could feel cute and pretty with short hair. That's part of why I was upset. When my head hurts like that, wearing a wig is asking to end up in the hospital with an intractable migraine, and my face is so angular that without long hair to soften it, the image can be really jarring. 

(That was how I figured out I was nonbinary, actually. I was rehearsing a drag routine and I just felt Wrong and I couldn't figure out why, until my girlfriend (26F) suggested I try practicing in my wig and I saw myself in the mirror and suddenly it clicked.) 

Somehow, he pulled it off. It might partly have been the flower hair clip that BFF1 made me with a soldering iron and some copper wire. Most of it was my face. I had no idea DH knew how to contour, but I looked...soft. Feminine. I felt like a queen. 

Not that he's ever failed to make me feel like one before, but this time, he really outdid himself. I looked how I felt. That's not an easy feat for me in this context. He pulled it off flawlessly. 

It was also just fun, and after such high pain levels I needed fun almost more than I needed validation. 

NOTES: good fucking lord tumblr what have you done with your post editor it took me literally almost half an hour to get it all indented why is there a "character limit" on indentations now

BFF1 and BFFa are of course Piper and Leo, Prince Charming is Percy, Percy's girlfriend is Silena (married to Charlie ofc), Ruby's girlfriend is Annabeth, Percy's best man is Grover; if you read the other posts in this genre, you possibly get the idea. I know, I know, it's getting convoluted.

PING LIST: @perseusjackson-jasongrace @elaborateruses @starlightshadowsworld (lmk if you want me to stop pinging you in Ruby stuff, I'm sort of assuming lol.)

As always, let me know if you want in on (or off of) the ping list!

#nonbinary!jason grace #jercy #i wrote this #epistolary fic #sometimes a girl just needs to process both her chronic illness and her nonbinary feels at the same time #stellarverse

[saitseeing]

hey!! im not sure if you're still taking questions for the ask game, but how about 1, 9, 10, 20, and 32?

Hi!! Yeah I totally am. (Honestly you could send me asks from a game I posted like a month ago and I'd still answer haha) 1) create a 7 member girl or boy group with existing idols -- Okay so I decided to do both because I had too many ideas in my head. -- For girl group: Sunmi, Chungha, Swan from Purple Kiss, Bibi, Dia from Pixy, Mia from Everglow, and Sori from Cocosori. They would be such a powerhouse of interesting vocals and good dancers, plus Bibi has such a unique image and take that I think would make for such a killer influence on Sunmi, Swan, and Dia's already slightly darker concepts. -- For boy group: Hongjoong from Ateez, Yeonjun from TXT, Donghun from ACE, Hanse from Victon, Cho Seungyoun, Lee Changyoon from ONF, and Woosung from The Rose. Sure, they've got a great balance of vocals, rap, and dance, but more importantly, they are all fashion hoes. Just imagine the styling that would come out of this mix it would be absolutely terrible or absolutely incredible and the two are not mutually exclusive.

9) a group that deserved better </3 -- Ugh there are so many to choose from. B1A4, Pristin, Pentagon, E'last, Rainz, Lightsum, Bugaboo, I could go on, but I think right now, for very obvious reasons, Omega X. No one deserves to go through the abuse they endured, and even now they're going to be fighting a legal battle for who knows how long. They've all been through so much and I'm just really wishing the best for them.

10) song to most likely make you crash your car while driving or get pulled over for speeding -- Good lord Beep Beep from BTOB. I literally had to remove it from one of my playlists because every time it came on while driving the car horns made me Panic.

20) favorite group with a color in the title -- Golden Child! I love their music and I feel like they're so underrated.

32) if you could magically bring back a disbanded group but had to disband another, who would you bring back and who would you disband? -- Oof this is so hard. I think if I could bring a group back, I'd pick Rainz. They really never got any attention at all but their discography was legitimately so good. I really enjoy all the stuff coming from the boys now in their respective groups (specifically WEI, TAN, and Eunki's solo stuff) but I loved their sound when they were together and I'd love to get it back for just a little while. For a group I'd disband, honestly I'd say Blackpink. Their music has felt so flat and repetitive since DduDduDdu, and I Pink Venom in particular felt like such a waste of their performance skills, Jennie especially. Plus, Rose's solo song Hard To Love is so much stronger than the rest of that album, I just really feel like it's time for them to hone their individual colors instead of being churned through Teddy's leftovers.

Send me some numbers!

#Thank you for sending Mairin!! This was so fun to think about #Hi Mairin!! #Ask games #thoughts with sai

[cartooncenteral]

Theme Song credit goes to Oh Geez, with their song, Trouble Prone, Now, Enjoy the Story!

[[ 2029, 10 years and six months later after the Events of Amphibia]]

**Los Angeles California, Under the ground of the Hollywood Sign**

=================================================

?: The Defender passed! what do you mean he passed, How did he pass?

?: Well, He was in the dragon dimension when he got ambushed by two dragons and got set on fire!?

?: Trojan! do you know what this means!

Trojan: what does it mean Max?

Max: That means I have to look for a new Defender of Dimensions, I haven't done that in centuries!

Trojan: Do you know anybody on this planet that we can rely on to save and protect the dimensions?

Max: Wait, I got a few people in mind!

Trojan: you do?

[[Max pulls up a holographic image of three 16-year-old girls wearing armor on their bodies]]

Max: A century ago, They was a tale of three girls who got transported to their frog marshland world, disappear for three years, and came back to stop an invasion by this giant monster creature, and walk off into the sunset!

Trojan: Wow, incredible story! What are their names?

Max: Their Names are Anne Boonchuy, Sasha Waybright, and Marcy Wu

Trojan: Anne, Marcy, and Sasha, those names sound totally badass!

Max: I know right, and the things they did were absolutely heroic, that's it, It's been decided, Trojan!

Trojan: Yes Master Max?

Max: Head out to the City of Angels and find the three girls and bring them to me!

Trojan: Yes Master!

**Anne Boonchuy's House**

[[A 23-year-old Anne Boonchuy is sleeping in her bed, she is then woken up by her alarm clock]]

Anne: Ahh! oh dang Alarm Clock, **Yawn** Anyway time to go to work

[[Anne gets up and looks at her phone, she enters the gallery app and opens up a photo that was taken 10 years ago]]

Anne: Miss you every day sprig!

[[Anne puts on her museum clothes and takes off for work]]

Anne: Alright Mom and Dad, see you  guys later, I'm off to work

Ms. Boonchuy: Alright sweety, see you later.

[[Anne steps on the porch and steps on some with a crunchy sound, she looks down and to her surprise, it's an envelope]]

Anne: What's this?

[[Anne opens the envelope]]

Anne: Dear Anne Boonchuy, we here at Los Angeles Community High School invite you to a high school reunion at the Hollywood Sign tonight, we do hope to see you there tonight.

Anne: A high school reunion? sounds fun, maybe I can see some old friends again!

**Sasha Waybright's house**

[[23-year-old Sashawaybright is inside her garage with two friends as she starts  to plug a guitar into an amp]]

Sasha: Alright Guys, you ready!

Vincent: Heck yeah we're ready!

Maggie: You bet we're ready Waybright!

Sasha: Good, Hit it vincent!

[[Vincent starts shredding his guitar]]

Sasha: Hit it Margo!

[[Maggie starts playing her keyboard]

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

Sasha Waybright

The Bright of Life

🎵Just came back from fighting for my life🎵

🎵From a dangerous journey that took all day and night🎵

🎵but I persevered and held on tight🎵

🎵Yeah, That's just the bright of life🎵

🎵I'm all grown up, What can I say🎵

🎵the facts are true, I'm now a gay🎵

    🎵The New me is here so step out of the way🎵

🎵The Bright Life is all cash no pay🎵

🎵Yeah the Bright Life, the Bright life, the bright is here to cheer up your days🎵

🎵Taking over the Calfornia Bays🎵

🎵On the sandy beaches where I lay🎵

🎵The Bright life will be here every single day!🎵

🎵Bright Life!!🎵

=============================================================

Vincent: Sasha, that was the best song you have ever written!

Sasha: Really!

Maggie: Yeah, really, that was really inspiring stuff, it's even got me teared up a little bit

Sasha: I really appreciate it guys, good to know you two are helping me start my career as a rock and roll artist!

Vincent: Hey, it's our pleasure!

Maggie: So um... Sasha,  do you might wanna hang out later, maybe at a restaurant?

Sasha: Sure that sounds good, you got anywhere in mind?

Maggie: Well, maybe I thought we could go to...

[[All of a sudden A delivery truck arrives at Sasha's house and the mailmen puts mail in the mailbox]]

Sasha: Oh, hold that thought Maggie, I got to go get the mail.

Maggie: Alright, but be back soon girlfriend.

Sasha: Ok then, Girlfriend.

[[Sasha goes over to the mailbox and see magazines and letter, but the last piece of mail has a giant red sticker that reads please read alone]]

Sasha: Dear Sasha Waybright, we firmly invite you to sign up for the first-ever battle of state bands, we heard about your talented rock star skills, and we feel that you should be involved in this once of a lifetime opportunity, so please join under the Hollywood Sign tonight to register.

Sasha Waybright: Holy Cow! guys I got some exciting news!

**The Marcy Wu Comic Company**

[[A 23-year-old Marcy Wu is in a board meeting with her coworker, trying to come up with her next webcomic]]

Marcy: Alright employees listen up, i need ideas for the comic book series, any ideas?

[[two girls raises their hand]]

Marcy: Ah yes, Jess and Ally!

Ally: so i was thinking, what if we make a webcomic series, that involves robots living in a town, just like here in Los Angeles!

Marcy: No, robots is the last thing i ever want to write about.

Jess: What about this, a girl vlogger goes on the ultimate journey to become the most famous social media star in the world!

Marcy: that doesn't sound too bad, Definitely adding that to the list,

Jess: Awesome!

Marcy: Alright, you guys come up with more ideas, I'm going to get a cup of coffee and come back.

[[Marcy enters the break room and pours a cup of coffee, while waiting for it to brew, she remembers all the adventures she had in Amphibia with Anne and Sasha]]

Marcy: Man, I do sure miss the epic adventures we have, those were some good times!

Terri: Hey Marcy!

Marcy: Ahh! Oh hey Terri, what's up?

Terri: We got a letter sent here that says that you need to read it

Marcy: What! Don't just stand around silly, let me see it.

Terri: Ok, here you go!

Marcy: Thanks.

[[Marcy opens the letter and reads it]]

Marcy: Dear Marcy Wu, we are a company that showcases comic books, Web-comics, and television shows right here in the city of Los Angeles, we are hosting an event to showcase everybody's creations, and we would wish to have you participate in it, so if you want to join the event, meet us the Hollywood sign tonight!

Marcy: Well holy video games and everything electronic, a showcase, Oh I'm defiantly going!

**The Hollywood Sign 11:00 PM**

Anne: Ugh, This hill is so steep, why are hosting a high school on a mountain top!

[[Anne makes it to the Hollywood sign, and sees absolutely nothing]]

Anne: What the heck, where's the high school reunion, it's empty, hello? Hello?

[[Anne hears nothing but wind and leaves on the grounds]]

Anne: Wow, what a complete waste of my time, oh well, guess it's back home and work again.

[[Anne was about to walk off, but then she heard a voice she knows all and well]]

Sasha: Anne? Anne is that you?

Anne: Sasha?

Marcy: Anne?

Sasha: Marcy?

[[The three finally see each other under the Hollywood sign]]

Anne: Oh my god! it's you two!

Marcy: what are you two doing here?

Sasha: I don't why you two are here, but I don't care, bring it in!

[[The three run into each other's arms and begin group hugging]]

Sasha: Oh my god I haven't felt this is so long!

Anne: I missed these

Marcy: Feels so good to hug you two again

[[They separate from their hug and stare at each other for a minute]]

Sasha: So wait are you two doing here under the Hollywood sign?

Anne: Well I got a letter saying that our high school was having a high school reunion here.

Marcy: I came down here because I got a letter saying there was a Comic and television  convention here

Sasha: That's weird because I got a letter saying there was a battle of the bands here

Anne: So if this isn't a high school reunion, battle of the bands, or a webcomic convention, who sent those letters?

?: I did!

[[A blue girl with blonde hair appears from behind a set of bushes and stands in front of the girls]]

Anne: Who are you? and were you just sitting behind that bush the entire time?

Trojan: My name is Trojan, and yes I was behind that bush.

Sasha: you weirdo! why are you even doing something like that?

Trojan: Ok, first of all, I'm not a weirdo, second, I did it to make sure you didn't bring any guests with you

Marcy: um... we didn't

Trojan: Good, because there was a reason I sent those letters, my master had to find you guys!

Sasha: Your master? like what, your boyfriend?

Trojan: What! Ew gross, no, my father you sickos!

Anne: Who is your father?

Trojan: follow me and I'll show you, but remember, once your down here, you must never, never tell anyone about it, including your parents or other friends, understand!

Anne: We understand

Trojan: Ok then, follow me!

[[Trojan goes up to a rock and pushes away  reviling a hole in the ground]]

Trojan: Well, go on down!

Marcy: Oh, me first!

[[The four girls climb down the hole to a small room with rows of cameras and a small machine backed against the wall]]

Anne: Woah, what is this place!

Trojan: This is my master watch center, he monitors everything that goes on in the worlds

Marcy: So cool

Sasha: Wait, did you say worlds, what do you mean worlds?

?; She's talking about the worlds I watch!

The Machine begins to turn on as a holographic man appears in front of Anne Marcy and Sasha!

Marcy: Holy damn!

Sasha: Who...Who are you?

Max: I am Max, Max the Dimension Watcher

Anne: Dimension Watcher?

Max: Yes Anne, Dimension watcher

Marcy: Wait, how do you know our names?

Max: I know about your names because I know about your story, I know that you got sent to Amphibia by a magical box, I know you weren't here on earth for a full year, I know that Anne had to make a portal just to save you guys and the whole world, I witnessed all of it, right here in this room!

Anne: You know all of that?

Max: Yes, every single moment

Sasha: so, if you know all about us, why did you bring us here?

Max: Well you see, I need new people to help defend the Dimensions from scary monsters or scary incidents, and I figured, why not hire the most badass ladies in all of California to become the new defenders of dimensions

Anne: Woah there man, sorry, but we're not interested!

Max: Really, and why not?

Sasha: Why Not! Dude we almost died on mutiple occasions, Anne almost died from the Stones, Marcy almost got stabbed to death, and I almost starved, why in the hell would we go through something like that again?

Max: Easy, you're Calamity Powers!

Marcy: You know about Calamity Powers too, how much time do you have on your hands?

Max: Eternity, that's how much time I have

Anne: Look, Mr. Max, it was great knowing you and all, but we just don't want to risk our lives again, so I do hope you find you Defender of Dimensions soon, farewell

Max: fine, then, i didn't wanna show you this surprise, but you left me no choice

Marcy: what do you mean no choice?

[[Max closes his eyes and a portal starts forming in the room, and on the other side was a marshland world, and standing there, was a teenage Purple frog, a teenage pink frog]]

Anne: Holy shit! Max, you didn't!!!

Max: Recognize this place girls?

Anne: Sprig, Polly, is that really you?

Sprig: Um, Hi Anne.

Anne: Sprig!!!!

[[For the first time in 10 years, Anne hugs Sprig and Polly with tears running down her face like a waterfall]]

Marcy: You crazy son of a bitch, you can open portals to different worlds on command?

Max: hey, I am called the Dimension Watcher for a reason.

Polly: Sasha, what up girl, you just gonna stand there confused

Sasha: Polly, shut up and give me a hug!!!

[[Polly hugs Sasha and Gives her a fist pump]]

Trojan: There is a great level of happiness in you three isn't there

Anne: *Sobbing* I Can't hold back my happy tears, I can't believe we're back here again, 10 years ago, we said our goodbyes, we thought we never see each other again, But Max, you brought this friendship back together,  how can we possibly thank you?

Max: There is one thing, and that is to become, my Dimension Defenders!

Sasha: What do we have to do?

Max: Nothing!

Marcy: What?

Max: Until there is an emergency, you girls can live your normal lives, until I alert you

Anne: Oh wow, that's awesome! What do you say Marcy and Sasha, you accept?

Sasha: Hell yeah girl!

Marcy: you already know the answer Anne, and that is yes!!

Max: Then it's settled, now I need you girl to bend on one knee while I say this oath

[[Marcy, Anne, and Sasha go down on their  legs while Max says an oath]]

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

🙏MAX🙏

POWER IS RESPECTFUL

POWER IS GREAT

POWER IS GRAND

POWER LIES IN YOUR HAND

WITH POWER, It GOT YOU FANS

NOW, IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO DEFEND THE LANDS!!

AND TO GAIN ALL THE ATTENTION

AS OF RIGHT NOW, YOU ARE NOW, MY DEFENDERS OF DIMENSIONS!

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

***To Be Continued***

#anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #calamity trio #amphibia #AmphibiaFuture #amphibia fanfic #disney amphibia #sprig plantar #polly plantar #amphibia fic #amphibia fandom #anne sasha and marcy

[dizzydispatch]

The Roof is on Fire: Part 1 (Backstory)

Content warning: dead pet, house fire

"The roof. The roof. The roof is on fire."

These were the lyrics from the song he showed me upon dubbing me "Fire King." A crudely-photoshopped image of my face superimposed onto the profile of Fire Lord Ozai became my contact photo in his phone. The nickname came after my best friend Andy and I spent a weekend up in a rural woodland cabin. After assuring me he'd be able to start the woodstove fire-- after all, hadn't our families first bonded over a shared Boy Scouts troop?-- it started to seem as though we were fated to spend the weekend shivering. "Let me try," I said.

Begrudgingly, he offered me the lighter and wad of newspaper kindling, scooting aside to give me access to the stove. It took me a while, and for a few minutes there, his smug look told me that he'd doubted my ability to do what he couldn't from the beginning. But then, I figured it out. The trick was to keep at it, starting small with sticks and brush, before easing the heavier logs into the flame and allowing them to take gradually to the flame. "Hail, the Fire King!" Andy cried, feigning a royal bow. 

The fire seemed to catch so slowly, I couldn't imagine how things like house fires got to be so out of control. After all, if I couldn't WILL the logs to catch, what did a modern house made to resist conflagration have to worry about?

I wouldn't find out for another few months.

It was a Thursday in early May. I had been hired at the Deaf school two weeks ago, and I was just starting to settle into the job. It wasn't what I wanted to be doing, but it was a job, and since I was living rent-free with my parents, I could put all of my money towards those pesky student loans. One of the perks of living at home was my dad's willingness to occasionally trade cars with me, bringing mine to the mechanic for me so I didn't get ripped off. 

That's why I didn't answer the first time my little brother called me. Or the second. I figured, he's mad because I have Dad's car. I knew he wanted to buy it off of our father, and he probably had scheduled some preemptive appointment to tint the windows or have some other modification done. But by the fifth or sixth consecutive call, I figured I'd have to address him eventually. When my coworker came  back into the room, I asked if she could handle the class for a minute. 

"My brother is spam calling," I told her. In sign language, this looked like "MY BROTHER / CALL / CALL / CALL / (eyeroll)". As I slipped out I told her: "I've just gotta make sure it's not an emergency."

In the nearly deserted hallway, I didn't worry too much about letting some irritation creep into my tone when I answered. "This better be goddamn important," I told him. "I'm at work."

"It is," he responded, just as rudely. "The house is on fire, and your cat is probably dead."

My first impulse was to laugh. "Very funny," I told him. "What's really going on?"

I felt the buzz of my phone and saw that he was trying to FaceTime me. That's when it hit me that he wasn't kidding. With trembling fingers, I accepted the request, and the first thing I saw was the blurry feed of our house, and a big red firetruck in front. 

Dazed, I sank to the ground in the middle of the school hallway. I opened my mouth but nothing came out at first, so I tried again. This time, my scratchy, dry voice made out, "Is... is everyone out?"

"The family is safe," he assured me. "Mom was at work, Dad's here with me." (And of course, the other brother was out of state for college.) "It's only Tilly they can't find."

Tilly.

I took a shaky breath and cleared my face. It was imperative that my students never see me as anything but happy or neutral.

 "Everything okay?" my coworker asked as I reentered the classroom, face a blank slate.

I shook my head imperceptivity. 

She gave me an inquisitive look. I glanced at the students, none of whom were looking my direction. Still, I shielded my hand with the other as I signed two words: HOUSE, and FIRE. Her eyes widened, and she shooed me away, silently telling me to take care of myself and leave the classroom to her. 

I nodded once and left the room. I was going to cry; that much I could feel in my gut. I sought out the office once dubbed our team's "designated cry room." But when I slipped around the corner, I was brought up short by the sight of a closed door. This meant Jen was either interviewing a new applicant, or meeting with a prospective family. Next door to her, however, the program director for the hearing program also housed at the school seemed to have an empty office.

“Hi,” I said, poking my head through the open door. “Are you busy?”

She looked up, surprised. “Not really,” she admitted, her brows furrowing.

“No meetings scheduled--” I checked my watch, "--in the last two hours or so of the school day?”

“No…” I could tell she was wondering why someone from the other program was looking to speak to her, but before she had the chance to ask, I closed the door behind me. 

“Great,” I said, collapsing into her chair. “I need a place to cry.” 

Out from under the prying eyes of students and curious TAs, I could’ve let the floodgates open, but some latent instinct allowed me to first dial the first emergency contact on my phone. 

Andy picked up before the first ring ended. “I heard,” he said. 

A silent gratitude welled up inside of me, in spite of everything. I melted like hot wax, and the tears came silently as I curled up on this strange woman’s office chair. 

“Tilly,” I whimpered. 

“I know,” he said. “We’re going to find her. Do you need me to come get you?” 

I shook my head, which of course he couldn’t hear. The voice I was able to manage was hardly more than a croak. “No.” 

Not-Jen looked at me, bewildered. She asked me the question, what is going on? without words. Her eyes searched my face, and I imagined she was wondering if either program had ever had to section a new hire so quickly. Mental breakdowns were common enough in a place like this, but only a few ended in institutionalization. I pictured, hysterically, this woman slowly reaching under her desk for a secret button, like a bank teller in a robbery, alerting squads of uniformed people armed not with police-issue .45s but straightjackets and tranq darts. The idea was so comically ridiculous that I found myself laughing through the tears, surely only reinforcing her notions regarding my sanity. 

I told her simply, “My house is on fire.” 

This broke her frozen expression, and her face melted into one of sympathy and concern. “Is everyone okay?”

Lifting the phone again, I said to both her and Andy, “My family is all accounted for. The only one missing is my cat, Tilly.” 

She made a sound like a squeaky toy being stepped on, and stepped around her desk to sit in the chair beside mine. Her hand was steady on my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. 

The sob was loud and choked, and I stifled the next one, concerned the occupants of the adjacent office might overhear. Not-Jen introduced herself as Cheryl, and I let her put her skinny arms around my shoulders as I continued to weep. Andy spoke soothingly from somewhere far away, giving me updates as he got them through the steady, reliable grapevine that interlaced our families. My family was in the care of the Red Cross. The fire department had gone to a second alarm.

Cheryl tried to console me, too, telling me, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Cats are incredible hiders."

But they didn't find Tilly until the fire had been extinguished.Tilly, my cat, the first pet that was ever only mine.

It was my mom called me next. I was in my dad's car, sitting in the back parking lot, trying to decide where to go. Home? What would even be left of it? They wouldn't have put my parents up in a hotel yet. It was too soon. I was just settling on calling Andy when my phone rang.

"Mom?"

I could hear her tears when she spoke in a broken, tiny voice: "They found Tilly."

My heart sank into my stomach. "And-- I mean, is she--"

"I'm so sorry, honey."

I don't remember what I said. Maybe I didn't say anything, and just hung up. The next thing I remember is crying harder than I can remember crying in my adult life. The catharsis was immediate and relieving, and I knew as the weeping spell wound down that I would call Andy.

When I arrived at his place, Andy's mom greeted me with a hug that seemed to last eternity. Whitney is a short, plump woman from whom Andy had inherited his ocean-blue eyes, and in her arms I felt small in spite of the six inches of height I have on her. Like a little kid whose auntie took on the roll of secondary mother without needing to be asked. She didn't make me talk, and I found it comforting to remain in my silence, a state uncommon to one as loquacious as I am. I curled up in a ball on the corner of their brown leather couch, sinking endlessly into the deep cushions as though it could swallow me whole.

I stayed there, practically comatose, until Whitney insisted I let her buy me some essentials. She handed Andy her credit card and told him not to think twice about the expense, and soon enough we were on the way to Walmart.

I picked out a toothbrush, some travel hygiene essentials, some sweats to sleep in tonight and a set of fresh work-appropriate clothes for the next day. I didn't bother to style the outfit to match my usual pseudo-gothic preferences, but simply tossed some clothes that seemed close to my size into the cart. Andy added some snacks and a gluten-free frozen dinner for that night, and a bandana. Black, with red roses, matching my aesthetic perfectly. I hadn't even thought about my bandana collection, but Andy, my best friend since the first grade, knew me better than anyone. To this day I have that bandana, the first in my new collection.

On the way home, I fiddled with the music. Usually, Andy and I would bicker about what to play in the car, but I guess having your house burn down wins you some privileges because he let me have full control of the aux.

The roof. The roof. The roof is on fire.

"Wow," Andy remarked. "Your Spotify algorithm is really insensitive, huh?"

"No," I said. "I picked it. I made a playlist."

His brow furrowed, and he leaned over to look, but I smacked him away and snipped something about watching the road. "The last thing my family needs is for all of us to survive a housefire only to have one of us die in a car crash," I remarked.

His eyes bugged for a second, and then we were both laughing. At the next red light, I showed him the playlist, comprised solely of fire-related songs. "If you read the titles in order, they kind of tell a story," I said. "See? Lithium and Battery, because it was a lithium-ion battery that started it. Lady Gaga's 911, because the first thing you do is call 9-1-1, and Get Low because they tell you--"

"I get it," Andy said, chuckling darkly. "This is so morbid."

"I think it's funny."

He looked at me for a moment before informing me, "Your sense of humor is broken."

I thought about that for a long time, and then suddenly I was laughing. I couldn't stop laughing. I tried to answer his demanding gaze, but I got as far as "What do you call--" before I burst out again. Andy laughed with me, puzzled, but content that I didn't seem so miserable anymore. Finally, after several false starts that dissolved into hopeless giggles, I got the set up of the joke out.

"What do you call an elusive psychic who survives a house fire?"

Andy, already groaning, generously humored me. "What?"

"A rare medium well-done," I choked out, and then we were both howling. It's probably sheer luck that we didn't crash on the way home, because the rest of the drive was spent in hysterics, the two of us taking turns volleying all of the fire-related jokes...

"Did you hear about the fire in the shoe factory? Many soles were lost."

"My grandfather always said, “Fight fire with fire.” He was a great man, but a terrible firefighter."

"Why do ducks have flat feet? To stomp out forest fires. Why do elephants have flat feet? To stomp out flaming ducks!"

...while the stereo played that old familiar song, and we laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. The roof. The roof. The roof is on fire...

And that's when I knew I'd be okay.

#The Roof is on Fire #dizzy #dizzydispatch #dizzydispatch911 #trauma #house fire #TW dead

[talkingtothetallman]

A "30,000 Feet" moment

There's a song by Ben Rector, called "30,000 Feet".

The song chronicles a conversation that Ben had with an older man on airplane. A total stranger, just offering his name and life wisdom, to someone who would listen. The chorus goes:

"I've been better, I've been worse I've chased after pretty girls Seen a couple places that I never thought I'd see I've walked into harder times, I've walked out the other side It seems like you end up getting what you need Yeah, looking down from 30,000 feet Life's been good to me"

I've always thought this song was unique. There is so much wisdom that someone who has walked down a road or two, seen maybe just a handful of storms, and has experienced great joy and great sorrow. That last line, "looking down from 30,000 feet, life's been good to me", as a believer that caused me to reflect and recognize how God has led me through the many storms of life. That image of looking down on life from an airplane at such great heights is quite powerful.

Which leads me to today.

Today was a light package volume day at UPS, causing my route to be cut and since I'm low enough in seniority, work was super unlikely. So, I took advantage of being up in Chehalis and went to the Les Schwab on my route to have check my brakes since they were shaky. I got checked in and after grabbing a small, complimentary cup of coffee, I sat down at a table and jammed my AirPods into my ears, perfectly content to keep to myself. I glanced around the room, noting the various people; a mother with a busy toddler, a young lady, a few others on the other side of the store, and an older gentleman sitting directly across the table from me. He wore a navy blue jacket, his face was wrinkled with with years of sun and age, and his hair of gray and silver was combed over. I would have guessed him to be about 70 or so. At first I took no real notice of this man, but before long my AirPods were out and we were striking up a conversation.

The man went to church with one of my fellow drivers and asked if I knew him, to which I replied I did. I told him my wife and I had a baby eight months ago and how exciting it was that him and his wife were due any day now. The conversation flowed from how the man and his wife got to their current church, to where he lives, to where he was from and what he did. The man clearly lived a lot of life. Then I asked him:

"What's your testimony, sir?"

He explained his story of an old woman who always told him she was praying for him while he was younger and living in Las Vegas. He used to always pass a small little Baptist church on a street corner, and told himself that he would stop by one day. And that one day came, and by God's grace, an older woman led him to Christ that very day!

He continued his story explaining how he followed Christ for a number of years, but slowly fell away. His wife became a drug addict, they divorced, and he became an alcoholic of sorts, being drunk a few times of week. He felt guilty for it, trying to repent but falling short again and again. His situation came to a head one night when him and his older friend were drunk driving home when he crashed his truck into a bank, causing his friend to fracture and skull and nearly die. The ramifications of this were clear; possible imprisonment and the death of his friend. It was there he cried out to Jesus to forgive him again, and for these last four years, he's been living for Jesus.

I studied him as he told me his story. His eyes were misty recalling the details (far too many to type here I might add). He seemed to understand how much he was forgiven of and was grateful for the blood of Jesus. The conversation transitioned from there into various other points of interest. After a brief intermission for a conversation with a Les Schwab employee about my brakes, the man reached out his hand and offered his name: Chris.

After a time, Chris's wife came in to meet him and he introduced me to her like I was an old friend. As they left, I put my AirPods back into my ears and smiled on the inside. I was thankful that the conversation took place, and was reminded that sometimes it's good to reach out to a total stranger. You never know who you're going to meet or how you're going to impact them, or them to you.

I pulled out my phone, opened Spotify, searched "30,000 Feet", and pressed play. It was only fitting.

#christian #bible #strangers #30000 feet