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erosjock · 3 years

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27 Ways to Get Over a Breakup, Like, Right Now

Going through a breakup is low-key the best time to rebrand yourself. You can be whoever you want to be, do whatever you want to do, and try anything you want to try without having to consider anyone but yourself.

But considering breakups = losing someone who was consistently in your life, it can be easy to dwell on the past instead of looking at what your future self can bring to the table. Completely understandable.

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So to help you cope with all things breakup (since, hi, your future best self is waiting), we’ve sourced a bunch of tangible, practical ways you can actually get over someone according to experts who want to help. Because yes, sometimes buying yourself flowers at the grocery store is a lil start.

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How You Get Over a Breakup, by Zodiac Sign

1. Shower daily. I know this seems small, but trust, it makes all the difference. “Prioritizing your hygiene and taking pride in how you look can often make you feel better inside,” says licensed clinical psychologist Kristie Norwood. So get yourself a morning and nighttime routine that requires a rinse in the shower. After all, shower thoughts are the best kind of thoughts, and it might be super therapeutic. Small wins are the best wins.

2. Create a vision board. Yup, it’s time to paint a badass picture of what your future is about to look like. (Time to get on that manifesting kick). “After breakups, it’s important to figure out what your life will look like without the relationship as it was,” says Norwood. So pick up some magazines—yes, full permission to grab some Cosmos— and cut out images that you put into art your life goals and desires.

3. Treat yourself to a new sex toy. Luckily for you, vibrators come completely drama-free (and in some cases, are better than the real deal). “Cleanse yourself of any negative energy through an orgasm,” says sex educator Yael Rosenstock Gonzalez. An orgasm a day keeps the doctor away (...that’s the saying, right?).

4. Go to therapy It’s time to make an appointment for therapy, suggests licensed clinical social worker Amalia Miralrío. Especially considering an unbiased perspective could offer you insight that you weren’t able to process yourself. Get started with some free options here.

Benefits of the No Contact Rule Post-Breakup

5. Buy yourself a big bouquet of pink roses. Put them in a vase, water them, and wait for them to wilt. When it’s time to throw them out, check in with your feelings. Guess what? By the time those roses die, you’ll already feel better. Then, keep buying yourself roses, recommends Veronica Yip, a San Diego resident who swears by this hack.

6. Visit a rage room. It’s…a legit thing. “Get out all your anger and smash objects to your heart’s content,” recommends Lauren Cook, who holds a master’s in marriage and family therapy.

7. Go on that vacation you’ve been dying to—even if it’s by yourself. “Getting away to an exotic location or somewhere peaceful is a potent source of distraction,” says therapist Rev. Sheri Heller. What’s better than lounging beachside with a good book, frozen drank, and the ocean waves? Talk about self-care.

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8. Rearrange your home. Get rid of all those bad memories. “A new look creates space for new memories. Out with the old, inviting the new,” recommends Krysta Monet creator and founder of The Feminine Truth.

9. Purge your relationship junk drawer. Yes, this includes that ticket stub you’ve kept from your first date. “You don’t need the reminders of a relationship that is no longer,” says Robyn Koenig, professional dating coach and CEO at Rare Find.

How Long It Actually Takes to Get Over a Breakup

10. Write hate mail to your ex. But don’t actually send it (and tell your sister not to either, à la Lara Jean). “The caveat is not to mail the letter but to do a ceremonial burning to get rid of the toxic energy,” recommends Samantha Gregory, author of No More Crumbs: How to Stop Dating for Crumbs and Get the Cake You Finally Deserve.

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11. Say yes to everything. “This is especially useful if you’ve been in a long-term relationship where you’ve compromised and negotiated what you ate, where you went, what you watched, and who you socialized with,” says Trish McDermott, CEO of Meetopolis Dating. “Who are you and what makes just *you* happy? Now is the time to find out.”

12. Eat alone. Whether you take yourself out to your favorite Thai place or make a home-cooked dinner, sit at the table and eat in silence. “Becoming comfortable with newly found silence is part of the recovery process,” says Megan Cannon, owner of Back to Balance Counseling.

13. Sign up for a boxing class—or any other type of fighting class. “Sometimes you need to find an outlet to divert the negative energies you get after a breakup,” says Celia Schweyer, dating and relationship expert at DatingScout. Trust, punching the eff out of something will *def* help with this added stress.

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14. Block them from your Instagram/Snapchat. If the temptation to see if they’ve been paying attention to your Stories is too much, just block them. This way, when you do start to get out there and share your day-to-day activities again, you’ll know there’s zero part of you that’s performatively “acting over it” in the hopes your ex will see it.

15. Don’t shit-talk your ex too much. Sure, it feels good to trash-talk your ex with your besties, and hearing that you were better than them from the start feels like a drug, but don’t rely on it. Hearing your friends bring down someone who made you feel shitty feels like it should be justified in the grand karmic scheme of things, but your health and happiness need not be contingent on someone else’s pain and suffering.

16. Don’t immediately suggest to “stay friends”—and if they do, tell them you need to think about it. This is an impulse because you don’t want to seem like you care too much about the breakup. Because you’re so chill. You’re so chill that your heart isn’t beating. Aaand, you’re dead. But truthfully, during this stilted, awkward breaking-up period, it’s hard to tell whether you’ll be able to be friends. Generally, one person wants to be friends and the other wants to be more. Gotta work that shit out before it can be a healthy friendship…if it ever can be. You’re not admitting defeat by not staying friends with them.

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

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Happy belated birthday, @courtorderedcake ! I am so sorry this gift is late! It’s been a week, we’ll just say that, and I wanted your gift to be good. I know you have been through SO much difficulty, my dear, and I wanted to write a fic focusing on Emma’s tough past and her strength because I know you identify with her so deeply. This turned out going in a much different direction than I anticipated, especially with the Daddy!Charming at the end. Nevertheless, I hope you like it! I based this on the song of the same name by Pearl Jam, and the two lines I used at the end made me think of you, Court, as well as Emma: “She holds the hand that holds her down/ She will rise above.”

This fic doesn’t follow the season seven timeline simply because it makes my head hurt and it was just easier to ignore it. I also needed Emma’s past in the Land Without Magic to touch her in the present, and the whole “all the realms are in Maine” wouldn’t really work here. Therefore, this is three years after the season six finale. Henry is sixteen Neal Nolan is three, and baby Hope is two months old.

Summary: The past collides with the present when Emma gets an upsetting phone call. But she isn’t a lost girl anymore.

Rating: T for brief discussions of child neglect, emotional abuse, and alcoholism

Words: 3,500 and some change

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jennjenn615 @distant-rose @delirious-latenight-laughs @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @profdanglaisstuff @tiganasummertree @resident-of-storybrooke @snidgetsafan @thislassishooked @branlovestowrite @scientificapricot @stahlop @hollyethecurious @shireness-says @winterbaby89 @wellhellotragic

Neither Emma nor Killian would say that their pasts were a faded, distant memory. Trauma just wasn’t that easy to get over. They would say, however, that this life they’d built in Storybrooke made the memories easier to handle. They had legit, “I’d go to hell and back for you”, family and friends. They had the home of their dreams where they could give Henry and Hope all the things they never had. They no longer felt the pang of hunger or the bite of cold.

Most of all, they had each other. Having each other meant sharing the burden of those memories for the first time. It was like peeling an onion, and Emma didn’t mean that metaphor in the usual sense. She meant the layers stung like hell, so they could only handle tiny bits at a time. It was okay, though, Killian told her. They had a lifetime together.

Taking the pain a tiny piece at a time was why the phone call came as such a shock for both of them. It wasn’t that Emma forgot about Hank, it’s just she’d never heard anyone speak of him aloud in almost thirty years.

Killian watched her face go pale, saw her arm go limp even though he could still hear a tiny voice coming through the speaker of her phone.

“Emma? Is everything okay?”

She dropped the phone without ending the call, and it hit one of the throw pillows and slid to the edge of the couch. Without saying a word, she headed upstairs, and Killian snatched the phone up and pressed it to his ear. The person on the other end was saying “hello? Ms. Swan, are you there?”

“This is Mr. - this is her husband,” Killian said. Though Storybrooke was no longer isolated from the outside world, Killian still essentially didn’t exist outside of its borders. Their marriage, though real in every way that mattered, wasn’t legally official outside of their little hamlet of fairy tale characters.

“Oh,” the woman on the line said, “well, could you just let her know that visiting hours end at nine pm?”

Killian’s brow furrowed. “Visiting hours?”

“Yes, if she’d like to come visit Hank Gregory. Her foster father?”

Killian sank to the edge of the couch. “Could you fill me in, please? My wife was a little - overwhelmed by your call.”

“Well, Mr. Gregory was admitted to Maine Medical Center here in Portland about two days ago with complications from both liver disease and diabetes. We’ve done all we can for him, but he’s been admitted into the ICU.” The woman took a deep breath, as if gathering her strength to get the next words out.

“I told your wife this already, but he doesn’t have a lot of time. We asked if he had any next of kin he’d like us to contact, and your wife’s name and number was all he gave us. He said she was his foster daughter?”

Killian rubbed the curve of his hook against his chin. No wonder the nurse phrased it as a question - this call likely wasn’t going the way she had envisioned. Across the room, Henry had discarded his video game controller and was watching Killian with a question furrowing his brow. Killian wished he weren’t so worried himself because it’s one thing for the man to have Emma’s name. It was quite another for him to have her cell phone number.

“Let me jot down those visitation hours,” he finally told the nurse, motioning to Henry to get a pad of paper and a pen. The lad dashed to the kitchen and fished them out of the junk drawer. Killian repeated the information from the nurse as Henry scribbled it down. After ending the call, Henry regarded him intensely.

“What was that all about? Mom seemed really upset.”

Killian sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not one hundred percent sure yet, Henry.”

***************************************************************

“Are you’re absolutely positive that you want to do this, love?”

Emma was clutching the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip, but she nodded at Killian anyway. They were twenty minutes outside of Storybrooke, and she’d been completely silent the entire time.

“I need answers. The man treated me like shit for two years, and now, 24 years later, he calls out of the blue?”

Killian really wasn’t sure what to say, so he merely rubbed Emma’s arm with the curve of his hook. She smiled at the gesture, and her body relaxed. One of her hands released the steering wheel, and she reached over to grasp his. He lifted it to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

“The bastard isn’t going to die without me getting a thing or two off my chest, either,” she added with a bitter chuckle.

There was a time a few years ago that the anger radiating from her and the harshness of her words would have him worried. His mind would have gone immediately to his own bitterness towards his father and the darkness that kind of path leads to. But now he knew better. Emma had faced the darkness and risen above it. He also knew she had to face her demons on her own terms.

“I’m right beside you, Swan, you know that.”

Her face relaxed and she turned her palm to lace their fingers together. She lifted their hands and pressed her lips to the back of his before letting go so she could put two hands back on the wheel. She bore right and soon the Bug was heading down 295 to Portland.

**********************************************************

Maine Medical Center was enormous, comprised of several different buildings. To make matters worse, parts of it were being renovated and construction zones were everywhere. They finally found the correct building, finally found a parking deck, and then walked what felt like a million miles to the ICU. Killian had never been anywhere but Storybrooke General, but this massive place had the same sterile smell and chilly air. He noticed Emma shivering and put his arm around her as they walked. She leaned into him, clasping his prosthetic hand in hers, his hook not exactly appropriate for the setting.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” she whispered.

“It’s what a husband does,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her temple.

His quip at least elicited a tiny chuckle from her. They approached the nurses station for the ICU, and Emma told them who she was and that she was here to see Hank Gregory. A smiling woman in her sixties whose spectacles reminded him of Granny Lucas led them to the correct room, which looked more to Killian like a glass prison. She eased the door open and called to the patient in the bed with a voice only slightly above a whisper.

“Mr. Gregory, you have visitors.”

The man’s eyes blinked open, and he turned his head towards the open door. He was covered in wires and tubes, and things blinked and beeped all around him. The nurse pressed a gentle hand to Emma’s arm.

“I’ll let you visit.”

Emma simply nodded, and Killian could tell she would rather flee. But she let out a long, slow breath and then took a step closer towards the man in the bed. His skin was pale and looked as thin as paper, littered in bruises. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks sallow, and there was a yellowish pallor to his face. He was mostly bald with only a few wisps of dingy gray hair. Killian glanced at Emma. She dropped her arms to her sides, and her hands were balled into tight fists.

“Emma,” the man said on a struggled breath, “you came.”

“How the hell did you find me?” she bit back.

The man’s eyes blinked, moist with tears. He looked sad, resigned, but not angry or defensive. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you over the years. Trying to, anyway. You can be a hard girl to find.”

“Yeah, I kinda pride myself on it.”

He ignored her jab, and smiled at Killian. “And who is your young man here?”

“I’m not ten anymore, Hank. This isn’t my young man, he’s my husband.”

“Killian Jones.” Killian gave the man a slight nod, unsure if he should attempt to shake his hand or not. He glanced nervously at Emma, wondering if she was offended by his polite greeting, but her gaze hadn’t left the man in the hospital bed.

“Nice to meet you, son.”

“He’s not your anything.” Emma propped her hands on her hips. “How. Did. You. Find me?”

He sighed, his head sinking even farther into his pillow. “I saw you in the papers a few years back. Emma Swan Always Gets Her Man, that was the headline. I’ve done some, well . . . work with computers, so I -”

“You obtained my personal information illegally, right? Did you know I’m a sheriff now?”

Hank tilted his head. “No, actually, I didn’t. Funny thing, I was following your career in New York, even found out about your son -”

“You stay the hell away from Henry!”

Hank ignored her “-but then the two of you just . . . disappeared. I held onto your number, though. When I gave it to the nurse, I wasn’t sure if it would even work. I was even less sure that you would come.”

Emma’s chin was tilted, and Killian knew what that meant. “Why me?”

“You’re all I’ve got left, Emma. You were my daughter, for God’s sake!”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your daughter. I never was.”

“Maybe not by blood, but I loved you like my own -”

“You don’t know what love even is!” Emma was shouting now, and Killian glanced nervously at the door. He wasn’t going to stop her, though. Obviously, whatever was pouring out of her had been bottled up for years. Hank was obviously not long for this world, and he knew better than anyone that his wife needed to say everything that had been left unsaid.

Hank was crying now, tears catching in the wrinkles that marred his face. “I didn’t treat you right, I know that, but I did love you, Emma. I did.”

Emma shook her head. “Really? You loved me so much you spent all of the money on liquor while I starved? Loved me so much you spent every waking moment in that damn recliner with the tv on? Do you know how many times I had to clean you up after you’d puked all over yourself? How many times I had to haul trash bags full of empty bottles out to the curb?”

“I know, I know!” Hank was sobbing now, his voice breaking as he struggled to speak. “When Denine and I took you in, we were gonna do it together. We were so excited to give you a home. But then she died, and I . . . she was my life, Emma. I was grieving so badly that I lost myself in the drinking, and -”

“I was grieving too!” Emma shouted. “And I was only ten!”

An awkward silence fell then, the sounds of the hospital machines louder within it. Hank’s gaze trailed to the ceiling, and his hands picked nervously at the thin hospital blanket. He let out a shaky sigh before finally speaking again.

“I’m dying, Emma. My liver’s useless, my kidneys are failing.” Groaning, he struggled to sit up in the bed, his right hand shaking violently as he reached for the blanket across his lap. When he yanked it aside, Killian’s eyes widened in surprise to see legs that ended in blunted stumps where feet should have been. Emma, however, didn’t react at all.

“Look at me,” Hank choked out. “I hated myself so much, I literally killed myself. Didn’t give a shit about my diabetes, so I lost my feet.”

“Serves you right,” Emma replied coldly.

“You’re right, it does,” Hank agreed, awkwardly covering himself back up and collapsing against his pillows. “Denine would be devastated if she saw me now.”

“She was good to me,” Emma whispered, hugging her arms around herself.

Hank nodded, tears gathering in his eyes once again. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was before it’s too late. I hoped that maybe we could -”

“Fine,” Emma interrupted him, “you got to apologize, but if you think that means I’ll forgive you, then I guess you’re gonna die disappointed.”

Emma completely ignored the broken man as he sobbed in the hospital bed, turning instead for the door and striding from the room. Killian followed her, but he couldn’t help glancing back at Hank Gregory with sympathy.

****************************************************************

Emma felt physically drained, yet a buzz of righteous anger still tingled along her skin. Killian, however, had fallen into a melancholy she couldn’t understand. They had decided to get lunch in the hospital cafeteria rather than drive around trying to find a place to eat. They had found a spot to sit next to a window looking out at a courtyard, and Killian seemed far more interested in watching the people walking past than the food in front of him.

“Hey,” Emma said softly, reaching out to grasp his hand, “what’s wrong?”

He gave her that smile that never fooled her because it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing, love, really.”

As if to try and prove it to her, he picked up his fork and speared a piece of broccoli. Not very convincing, however, when it never reached his mouth. Emma sighed and put down her grilled cheese.

“Yeah right, nothing.” She regarded his brooding nervously, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “Do you think I’m an awful person? To yell at a dying man like that?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. As difficult as it was, it had to be said.”

If anything, Killian’s words only made him look more depressed. Emma frowned. “But you think I should go back and forgive him?”

Killian shrugged. “I can’t tell you what to do in a situation like this. I confess, I wish you would, but . . . “

“But what?”

He finally met her eyes, dropping the fork with the uneaten broccoli. “Can’t you see it, Swan?”

Her brow furrowed. “See what?”

“Is there really that much difference between me and Hank Gregory?”

Emma couldn’t help it, a short laugh escaped her lips. “You can’t be serious.”

“A one-handed pirate with a drinking problem,” he grumbled.

“What?”

Killian rubbed his forehead, unable to look at her. “It’s what Pan said in Neverland when I told him you were finally seeing me for who I really am.”

Emma rolled her eyes, though she knew Killian was serious. “And you’re going to believe that psychopath?”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong. And here you are, refusing to forgive . . . an alcoholic with no feet.”

Emma’s eyes widened as his words sank in, then her face softened and tears moistened her eyes. “Oh babe,” she told him softly, grasping his hand again and rubbing his knuckles with her thumb, “you’re nothing like him. I’ve seen you drink too much, sure, but you’re not an alcoholic. You’ve never neglected me or Henry or Hope. You’ve done nothing but put us first.” She let out a long, slow breath, relieved when she saw a tiny glimmer spark in her husband’s eyes. “Hank ignored me, neglected me, yelled at me and called me names for two long, excruciating years.”

“Oh Swan,” he told her in a choked voice, “I’m not sure I was much better after losing Milah.”

“No, stop it,” she said firmly, grasping his prosthetic and his hand firmly in both of hers. “That may be true, but I know you, better than anyone. I have no doubt in my mind that if a child needed you, you would have been there. As a matter of fact, you did just that, for Neal - I mean Bae.”

“And then I mucked it all up like I always -”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Jones.”

He gave a small laugh, and ducked his head. Since she didn’t seem to be getting through to him, she got up, plopped right down in his lap and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

“Forget the past, remember? Isn’t that what we said on our wedding day?”

“Yes, but -”

“No buts. Hank Gregory was never a father to me. He sucked, okay? You, however, are the best father I could ever dream of for Henry and Hope.” She punctuated her words with a searing kiss, not giving a damn that they were in the middle of crowded, bustling Maine Medical Center.

****************************************************

Emma rubbed her palms on her jeans nervously as she watched the dying man through the glass of his room in the ICU. Killian put his arm around her and pulled her close.

“You sure about this?” he asked.

Emma nodded. “Yes. You were right, I did need to say those harsh words.” She turned to him and shrugged. “But they weren’t the only words. I guess I have too much of my parents in me.”

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

With a steadying breath, she stepped away from her husband and opened the door. She had thought Hank was sleeping, but she had been wrong. He turned towards the door and smiled when he saw her.

“I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“Yeah, well . . . “ Emma shrugged as she approached his bed. She stepped to the foot of it and grasped the edge with both hands. “I was talking to my husband, and he reminded me that people can change.”

Hank’s eyes brightened with hopefulness. “I have changed, Emma, and I was hoping maybe I could get to know my daughter again.”

Emma lifted her hand. “Please don’t call me that, Hank. I found my real parents, and they’re wonderful people. My dad and I especially are close. He and I -” she chuckled, surprised when tears rose up in her eyes thinking of David. “Well, we’re a lot alike. My mom definitely says so about a hundred times a day.”

Tears rolled freely down Hank’s cheeks. “Oh, Emma, I’m so happy to hear that. Knowing that, I really think I can leave this world in peace.”

Emma blinked, startled. “What?”

“I was such a horrible parent to you, Emma, and you were so innocent. I never forgave myself, and I tortured myself after children’s services took you away wondering what happened to you. Wondering if you ever found a family to love you the way you always deserved.”

Emma nodded, the tears flowing freely on her own face. “I have. I really have.”

“Anyone else besides Henry, your parents, and that handsome husband of yours?”

“Yes,” Emma said, pulling her cell phone out of her jacket pocket as she came around to the side of the bed, “my baby girl Hope. Here she is on the day she was born.”

Hank’s trembling hand came out to bring the screen closer. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is, isn’t she?”

An awkward silence fell as Emma pocketed her phone. She shifted her feet awkwardly, wondering if she could really spit the words out she had come here to say.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Hank finally said.

Emma’s face softened as she held his gaze. “Yes, I do. Not for you, but for me.” She took another deep breath and reached out to grasp Hank’s hand. “Hank, I forgive you.”

The man let out a long, shuddering breath, his eyes closing as he whispered, “thank you.” He must have been saving that breath for Emma’s words because as soon as it fell from his lips, every machine in the room started beeping. Emma was shoved out of the way as doctors and nurses rushed in to attend to the dying man. She found herself back in Killian’s arms, weeping against his shoulder.

**********************************************************

The drive home was a bit surreal with nothing but silence their companion back to Storybrooke. Emma didn’t think the feeling was grief - she’d known that, and God, she’d never forget it. Yet she did feel emotionally spent, and wrung out of all coherent thought. Killian didn’t seem concerned by her silence, content to watch the scenery go by and hum along with the radio. Occasionally, he would take her hand in his and give her a reassuring smile.

Emma was surprised when she saw the Welcome to Storybrooke sign - it was like she had driven home on autopilot. When they parked outside of their house, her heart flipped to see her dad’s truck. David came out on the porch before they had even exited the vehicle, Hope cradled in his arms.

“Snow needed to take Neal to t-ball practice so I -” David’s words were cut off when Emma launched herself into his arms. His free arm came up to cup his daughter’s head, and he was shocked to hear her crying against him. He looked to Killian with a startled expression and was relieved when his son-in-law gave him a small smile and a tiny nod that Emma was fine. Killian gently took Hope from him, grinning as the two month old squealed in delight. His arms free, David held Emma tighter.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” he finally asked her.

Emma pulled back, a smile lighting her face despite the tears. “Yeah, I am. Better than okay. I just . . . I love you, Dad.”

David swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I love you, too.”

She holds the hand that holds her down / She will rise above.

#cs ff #cs future fic #emotional hurt/comfort #daddy charming #killian's self loathing #emma's past #emma facing her past

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gregcollins · 4 years

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’ ･ﾟ : ❄ : ･. INTRODUCTION .･: ❄ :･ﾟ ’

⌠ hero fiennes-tiffin, twenty-two, cismale, he/him ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, gregory ‘ grey ‘ collins! according to their records, they’re a second year, specializing in awareness training, breath control, hand to hand combat + knife fighting skills, sword training, precision shooting, firearms & swat training; and they did go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( old rings to cover up bruised knuckles, face shadowed due to his hood always being up, scoffs being heard in the distance ). when it’s the scorpio’s birthday on 11/20/1997, they always request their apple from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

PAST

❄ Grey was born as Gregory Robert Collins in Edinburgh, UK ❄ His family was pretty much middle class, there was seriously nothing special about them that would make them stand out ❄ One would even say they were boring to an extend. Neighbors would just ignore them for the most part ❄ Especially when Grey grew older, he was a pretty quiet kid – never causing any trouble, partaking in group activities of Kindergarten and being an all around good kid ❄ However, around the time the male was a few months old his sister, Nina was born and then everything changed ❄ From the second she was reached around to everyone’s arms, everyone completely adored her – excluding her own brother ❄ As with any family, there of course was always some sort of jealousy when there was a new born. However, with the male it was more than that. He felt completely neglected already from a young age and he couldn’t even comprehend why just yet ❄ And it wasn’t just his parents, also his neighbors and with the years going by it were also his friends even if there was a small age gap ❄ So that envy continued, always being in the shadow of his sister whether it was more popular friends, getting better, more expensive gifts, being better at school as well as just generally being better at the majority of things and therefore getting more praise than he ever received ❄ So at one point, he started to act out, just deciding to not even try anymore in most regards, not studying anymore and hearing less and less about what his parents had to say ❄ Which ultimately resulted in his parents favoring Nina further, considering she was being the princess and he was just the irresponsible kid in the family ❄ So of course things had to spike up someday, Grey started smoking and drinking at the age of 16 – of course having that group of friends that wasn’t good at all for his behavior and health ❄ To his luck, however his parents didn’t find out for the longest time because they simply didn’t care much about what he was doing at that age, genuinely just focusing on their perfect child ❄ What his parents didn’t know though, his sister took note of and she found herself curious of how the life of her older brother would feel like ❄ Of course, Grey wasn’t too interested in having her join – wanting to have at least one thing to himself ❄ Though, after a long time of begging he figured it wouldn’t hurt if he brought her along to one of his friends parties and it was soon for this to become a routine thing ❄ This time instead, it wasn’t his sister taking away from the fun or making him feel left out – no they were genuinely bonding while partying and after a while, Grey even was beginning to enjoy having his sister around ❄ That didn’t mean that he had control of everything though. Luckily, they were smart in a way that their parents didn’t notice and Nina’s grades didn’t slack just yet but it had become a thing of her wanting to go without him on days when he didn’t feel like it and he quickly realized that she was enjoying it a little too much.

❄ TW; DRUG MENTION AND OVERDOSE: Grey has had his experience with party drugs but he never went to enjoy them too much, usually just staying to weed and alcohol instead because they didn’t fuck with his head too much. However, while there was a promise with his sister to never try them and he attempted to take care and protect her from that for long – there was one night where he was distracted by a girl and that’s when his sister was lured into trying the harder stuff. It didn’t last long for one of his friends to call him, telling him that his sister was unconscious on the bathroom floor and not much longer until her pulse stopped. ❄ Of course, Grey was completely devastated but it got even worse when their completely oblivious parents heard of the news. Though, like always, it wasn’t only his parents who blamed him for introducing her to this lifestyle and not taking care of him enough – the neighbors did too and eventually so did his friends. ❄ While the family bond with his side was already ruined from the get go, this only worsened. His parents even going as far as despising him until one point where he was almost 18 and they got into a large fight to when his father ended up abandoning him, forcing him to leave their household completely. ❄ This certainly wasn’t something a regular seventeen year old wanted to hear but after everything, he had obliged – dropping out of high school and instead joining a school he’s heard about from a friend, a spy school. ❄ It meant he’d be undercover, people not knowing what he did and lastly, to be away from his family. ❄ That’s also where he found his passion for combat, a way of just fueling his anger and energy into something productive and it was enough to get him into Gallagher as they started allowing males.

PERSONALITY

❄ Given his history, it’s not hard to believe that Grey is, although still quiet, short-tempered, snarky and generally unhappy ❄ He prefers not to talk to people too much, his replies always being short and without much emotion behind them ❄ He’s very, very stonefaced .. only ever furrows his brows or shakes his head at others ❄ He’s not very judgmental of anybody though, majorly himself because that was how he was raised ❄ Is very closed up, most might think he doesn’t even have a proper personality lmao ❄ Scoffs a lot ❄ He doesn’t drink anymore, although instead he smokes an excessive amount of weed since he believes that’s the only thing that calms him down

QUIRKS N SHIT

❄ His clothes are mainly dark hoodies because he does like to have it up and pretend like he’s not listening ❄ Someone once asked if he’s mute bc he never speaks ❄ Literally fears nothing ?? ay ❄ Has a weird protective kink … sister issues fam ❄ Sometimes paints his nails black ❄ Wants to have a lizard as a pet, idk he thinks they’re cool and fighty ❄ likes to wear rings ?? idk where he has that from he just thinks it rounds up his basic ass outfit ❄ likes to play basketball late at night ❄ loves, loves, loves to read ( don’t ask me what’s his favorite book is bc idk books )

UPDATES

❄ he’s the jealous type for some reason ?? but like he takes it very personal like once he’s envious he will most likely compare himself to that other person in every aspect n that’s toxic gregory smh ❄ he’ll go jump over his shadow to go out with people if he cares about them, most likely when he knows they’re drinking and he needs to be a sober buddy ❄ finds long drives really calming ❄ will kinda lie about having a sister ?? mad uncomfortable about talking about his home, most likely will just say he’s from England n that’s it ❄ addicted to coffee ?? never sleeps ?? trains too much ?? yes yes ❄ doesn’t know anything about movies/music or any other kind of media besides books ?? his childhood was playing in the bog thank u ❄ is fascinated by the slightest things ?? bc he’s not used to it, legIT EVERYTHING NORMAL IS LUXURY TO HIM ❄ has weird episodes where he just talks about strange stuff but only with people he’s really comfortable with ❄ gonna get a chamelon once they’re back from berlin yee yee ❄ uh, his prep school was in england ?? idk i just made that up recently so theres that

#THERES FINALLY SOME UPDATES TO THIS ONE #grey's a lot more soft than i thot he was gonna be #blame cute girls ok #’ ･ﾟ : ❄ : ･. your knuckles are perpetually drawn white — visage .･: ❄ :･ﾟ ’#’ ･ﾟ : ❄ : ･. i am barely a thing at all — musing .･: ❄ :･ﾟ ’#’ ･ﾟ : ❄ : ･. i’m losing parts of myself — answered .･: ❄ :･ﾟ ’

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lockdownuk · 4 years

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Lockdown Diary Part 2

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 31: I went to Tesco’s at Hampton at @8pm. It was weird. But I made it less weird by buying (amongst all the legit stuff I needed and some stuff for Karen’s mum) more booze. I have, atm about 30 assorted cans and 60 assorted bottles. I’m gonna stop buying booze now until I’m down to the last dozen. I don’t want owt to happen and I leave many behind!

Day 32: More than a calender month! I was rung up by a recruitment agent today about a contract with DHL as a remote support engineer to their aviation section. €400 a day! I’ve applied. Few beers tonight, watching a new Netflix release (Extraction) and catching up with Fog, Ham, Andy and Rog later at 10:30pm - yikes, might be pissed.

Day 33: Typing this on day 34. Dossed around during the day, few beers and another video call with fog, Ham and Rig plus I invited John Monk along. He was his usual self and signed off from the call with a moonie! Later on I had the pleasure of Scottish Louise video calling me! She was pissed, in her shed drinking den at her home with some neighbour called Ronnie and her daughter Ellie. She was her usual outrageous self who imaprted such gems as “Tim, you look old” and “Roger on coke is the only time I’ve taken it up the arse”. Nice.

Day 34: Today I skyped Laurie and ‘met’ Matthew and Nicholas for the first time. It was bloody fantatsic. Janine was there as well.I cannot believe it takes lockdown (plus an idea to get Laurie to add me to his regular Monday skype chat with Dad) that managed to get us doing something that should have happened years ago! It was so great to talk to them all face-to-face. Janine hasn’t changed a bit, Matthew is very quiet with Nicholas being the more gregorious twin. And Laurie is still Laurie. I’m reminded of how much I sort of miss him! It was all so comfortable. I loved it! Tomorrow is Dad’s 85th hence the 3-way chat idea. I hope it comes off!

Day 35: So dad and Laurie and I skyped. It was OK but my video feed was very dark, (still dunno why) and Lauire’s kept freezing. I dropped out so as to leave them to it, my thinking being the extra person takes up bandwidth, with the promise I’d call dad later. Before I could, Rita called me and suggested Dad and I skype, which we did. So, all in all, a good day of comms! And Dad seems his happy usual self - 85 years old! Amazing.

Day 36: I am really struggling to motivate myself this week. Today, I’ve done fuck all of note. That is all.

Day 37: A similar day to yesterday. All I have really managed to do is lay down audio from Pink Floyd (Absolutely Curtains) to a video I shot of a cow on yesterday’s walk. I am having a downer of a week without any good reason why, ld aside. I have worn my new walking boots today (’cos my old ones are leaking, I found out yesterday) and they fucking hurt, despite having tried to wear them in for months, albeit pathetically. Also, a few days ago (Friday 24th April), I got notification from HM Revenue & Customs that I’m getting tax rebate (from 2018-19) of £392. Yay!

Day 38: I received notification today that I’ve got a speeding ticket…last Thursday back from Tesco’s - 87mph somewhere between the A1 and Elton. I am hoping it’s a fixed penalty. I dunno whether it is yet, I just have to send the form off confirming it’s my car and I was driving. I spoke with Lynda from Woodfords asking her to ask for a rent reduction before I sign for another year. Plus, I let her know that I will be Howard and Sue’s eyes as the look at rental properties in Oundle - I do hope they return although it would be a shame for them that their plans have been scuppered (she’s lost her job in Oz due to Covid-19)

Day 39: Today I started another piece of exercise - up and down the stairs 26 times. Not sure why 26 - it was some thing online to do with the London Marathon, I think. It fucking killed. I used 13 clothes pegs for a counting system. I asked Karen to pick up some stuff when she was shopping (burgers, radishes) - Dan dropped them off, He was with Shaggy (driving his van) and going to see Jonah. That pisses me off - they should be social distancing, ffs.

Discoevered, today, that Cornershop, post-Brinful are fucking excellent. listening to the album ‘England is a Garden’ as I type.

Day 40: That 26 times up and down the stairs is fucking hard. I did videos about it today. My legs are aching like fuck right now.

Day 41: Just done Young Sam’s (Sam Clews) quiz. 3rd week running and it’s now become a habit and something I look forward to. Out of all the internet driven socialising I’m undertaking in ld, this is the weirdest - I feel totally detatched from all others taking part but, now, would feel pissed off if I didn’t or couldn’t join in. I got 47/70 this week. My best score and only about 8 off the winning score - most others aren’t doing it on their own!

Today’s walk was a cloudy one - I captured some fine, dramatic pics of the clouds. I am getting into this photography lark, albeit very amateurish. But, when I post any pics online (mostly FB), they seem to be widely appreciated, which is nice.

Day 42: Applied for a remote service delivery job with a firm called TTEC. £60k. Finished watching The Outsider. The creepiest TV show I have seen in years. Really great use of background music.

Day 43: Finished Mindhunter S2 last night. It’s so good but I cannot quite put my finger on why. Today has been a nothing day apart from day 2 of me not typing the letter ‘e’ in any post or comments on FB for a week. It’s hard.

Day 44: Watch Anna last night. A Luc Besson film that starts a kick-ass suprermodel. It’s right down my street. Today I have been lazy af. I need to pick up my online learning again…tomorrow, maybe! I watched Andy Murray Resurfacing. A documentary on Amazon. Fantastic. What a top man he is. Completely human and completely inhuman!

Day 45: Much talk in the news of possible lockdown relaxation. I am off the opinion we should stay the course until we are completely assured of beathing this thing i.e. a working, widely available vaccine. Dad and I Skyped - he is doing well, as usual. So is Rita. They both seem very happy in lockdown! Today has been a glorious day, weather wise. I had my walkk at 10ish this morming and it was very warm. Hottest day of the year so far I reckon.

Day 46: Bank holiday Friday (75th anniversary of VE day). Nice walk. Chat with Karen letting her know about being caught speeding just in case I am banned and need some out of town shopping. Watched second episode of DEVS by Alex Garland. It’s good and intriguing. Now, @7pm, gonna eat and hit the beers and smokes.

Day 47: Typing this at 15:45 on day 48. I had lots of beers and a good old chat with Rog…

Day 48: Today’s daily press conference was eagerly anticipated today with rumours of a relaxation in lockdown. It seems it was a fuss about nothing with no clear instructions - I didn’t watch it but, skimming the BBC news site, I shan’t be doing anything different over the next few weeks, not that I would anyway - furlough and self isolation are the order of the day and I won’t change that until I am sure it’s safe. Meanwhile people, including Danny flaunt the rules, it’s been pointed out to me plus I know he spends time with Jonah and Marc. It really fucks me off. So, the actions of the few mean I will lock myself down for as long, if not longer, as it takes. Attended Sam Clews quiz again. It passes the time. Also, I had half a scotch bonnet chilli with tea tonight (roasted veg, cous cous and sausages). Ridiculously hot!

Day 49: Received the speaker I ordered a few days ago (from eBay). It’s an AudioPro Addon T10. I got it for a very reasonable price from a German shop. As a result, the power lead isn;t three pin and that has seriously fucked me right off!

Meanwhile, I did my 26 stair climb before my daily walk today. It was easier than usual (surprise surprise) and I did 7km - but that was tough! ‘Cos I am on (yet another) free trial of Amazon Prime, I am ramping up watching stuff available. Last night I watched Booksmart - really nice little film with a great soundtrack. I am listening to Dan the Automater as I type. Today I watched half (3 eps) of The Night Manager and the film ‘The Founder’. The former is a superb series, the latter an OK film about Ray Kroc - the supposed founder of McDonald’s. Except he wasn’t; he was the wrong side of ambitious and a cunt.

Day 50: Stripped the 2 pin cable from the speaker I received yesterday and wired up a 3 pin plug and it worked. Win. And it sounds great. Win-win. Went to go shopping in Hampton but the car wouldn’t start. Loss. But it was the battery so I managed to borrow Karen’s jump starter which worked. Win.

Spent £107. Loss. But just under £40 was booze plus £10 for two big pizzas, two sides (dirty fries) and some dips. Win. Didn’t do any online learning - seriously fucking letting myself down. Loss.

Did my usual walking and 26 stair climb. The latter is hard but defo getting easier. Win. Day 51: Sam’s 51st birthday on day 51 - coincidence! Today I received my face mask from Lou - House of Stewart tartan. I’m pleased with it and that I have got a mask now. I managed to get up at a reasonable hour, just left 09:00, and revisit my web design course. Module 1, lesson 5 and I am fucking stuck. Trying to code an online CV with a side nav bar and I cannot get it to fucking work. Grrrrrr. Later, i got into a FB dispute (easily distracted due to the above) with someone over his statement of fact (Tim Martin’s treatment of Whetherspoons’ employees) when he doesn’t know it’s fact. It probably is, but that is not the fucking point. I wish I could leave these sort of spats alone. I am drinking, at 20:45, peppermint tea as I type. Jeez, what’s happened to me?

Day 52: Well, last night took a swift chnage. Rog message me and, to cut a long story short, I hit the beers, also called Foggy later, got trashed. I got up today at gone 1pm. Sam posted on fb that Paul had forgort her birthday yesterday. Oh dear! The 26 stair climb and walking each day is noticeable for how knackered my legs feel all the time, I noticed today!

Day 53: My birthday! Nice comments and banter of FB. Rachael brought round a bottle of whisky; gobsmacked. Karen popped round some beers and sausage rolls. Sam sent a card, as did dad with a £50 cheque. Dan’s ordering me a pizza later.

Chuffed! Day 54: I went to bed late after a lot of beers, huge pizza and chips, a few smokes and a long call with WWJ and video chats with Fog then Rog. Got up around 1pm and dossed with my usual exercises and I made fish pie with a scotch bonnet. Day 55: Late one last night but up early today (11ish). Really fretting about hospital tomorrow. Nervous anyway but the safety aspect, in terms of Covid-19, isn’t helping.

Day 56: Hospital appointment was just for an eye scan so the consultant can review it. I was very surprised to see how few people were wearing face masks! I did two lots of washing today. (After the hospital) I went to Morrsions, Asda (queue too long though), B&M (queue too long though) then Tesco’s. All to buy a baseball cap ‘cos I’m fucked if I’m going to wet my hair each time I go out and want it to look presentable! In Morrsions (no mens’ clothing apart from underwear!) I stocked up of 10 cans of sugarfree apple Caraboa….I was only thinking of this drink just the other day. Yesterday I finished The Night Manager on Amazon. I liked it a lot but, also, expected much, much more from it consdiering the hype. Hugh Laurie has come a long way from comedy sketches with Stephen Fry!

Day 57:Received an email from Sueanne yesterday asking ( as designated spokesperson for everyone) how I am. The most interestring piece of news in a rather uninformative email was that the US has started to open resorts!

Day 58: I am writing this on Day 59. I started a two walk a day regime. The first walk I do is shorter, around 4km. my aim is to be ready for 1,000,000 steps Diabetic UK challenge (throughout July, August and September). I need to do just under 11,000 steps a day. The relaxation in ld rules makes this achievable. On that score, I am allowed to visit a friend’s house, as long as it’s just the two of us, outside, 2m apart. I went round Karen’s last night. I was desperate to have a Happy Hour (I allow myself a midweek beer - today (well, yesterday) is/was Wednesday!) of sorts with another human (rather than a video chat). I was there for about 2 hours, very enjoyable, and then came home. Then I had usual roasted veg with rice and sausages but I couldn’t eat it. I used half a scotch bonnet rather than the usual birdeye chillis. It was too hot, had to sling it! Had a few more beers and, hence, neglected my diary duties!

Day 59: It’s 01:20am. I don’t know why I am still awake and up, but I am. But, also, I am now going to bed. Nothing else to report, really.

Day 60: Half way through 12 weeks furlough. I was discussing this with Dad and Rita earlier - I am expecting that, at the end of 12 weeks, I’ll be laid off. I hope I’m wrong but I reckon it’s well on the cards. Off to have a beer round Karen’s in a sec which will be pleasant. Just a hour or so. It’s fucking windy today so I shall wrap up!

#diary #Tumblr diary #lockdown #COVID19 #lockdownuk

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fallenqueen2 · 4 years

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Paul’s Plan 2 [TWD]

Paul’s Plan

It has been a month since Paul went missing; he then reappears as Negan’s negotiator. Whose side is Paul really on?

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Rating: T

Square Filled: Betrayal [1], bedside vigil [2]

Tags: badthingshappenbingo, Betrayal, Bedside Vigil, AU, Daryl has feelings for Paul, hurt Paul, hurt/comfort, Coma

Created for @badthingshappenbingo

Chapter 2 – Bedside Vigil

The faint sounds of explosions woke the sleeping community of Alexandria. Daryl jolted upright from where he was laying on the Grimes couch, not wanting to be alone and not being able to sleep with his mind going a million miles an hour. His hand curling around his crossbow on reflex as he lurched up from the couch and hurried out the front door, Rick mere moments behind.

"What the hell was that?" Daryl asked as he twisted his head around before he stared at the faint glow of flames and billowing smoke rising into the dark sky.

"That's the direction of Sanctuary," Rick said slowly as realization clicked in.

"Paul did something, no way that wasn't him," Daryl said, knowing full well what the scout was capable of.

"One way to find out, first light we head out and find out what the hell is going on," Rick said loud enough for the other Alexandrian residents who had tumbled out of bed could hear their leader's decision.

"I know you want to go now Daryl, but we have to trust that Paul can handle himself," Rick said setting his hand calming on Daryl's shoulder seeing the tension and urge to move in his brother's eyes.

"Yeah, it's not safe at night," Daryl grumbled, hating that Rick was right. Hating that he had to wait till morning to see if Paul was okay, to see if everything was okay or not.

~~/~~

The RV and a few cars roared down the road leading into Sanctuary. The flames had died down in the night but the air was still thick with smoke, clearly marking their path to the compound. As the pulled to a stop they saw people on foot and horseback were milling around the company and there was a giant bonfire going. The closer they got Daryl could make out that they were burning bodies. Daryl just hoped Paul's wasn't already in there as he eased his motorcycle to a stop and cut the engine.

"You must be from Alexandria! Welcome to Sanctuary! I am King Ezekiel from the Kingdom and a friend of Jesus!" Ezekiel moved forward to greet the newcomers like he had been expecting them.

"Paul told me about the Kingdom, they are legit," Maggie whispered to Rick before the man smiled and shook Ezekiel's offered hand.

"I'm Rick, the leader of Alexandria. What happened here? Is Jesus alright?" Rick asked curiously and Maggie rocked on her feet, clutching Glenn's arm as she waited for an answer looking just as anxious as Daryl felt.

"Negan and his crazed followers were taken down and their bodies are burning. The Saviour’s are no longer a problem from any community... As for Jesus, he's alive but... Well, it is easier to show you then tell you," Ezekiel's face went grave and his tone of voice dropped sending a stone plummeting into Daryl's stomach. He clutched the strap of his crossbow tighter, needing to do something to stop himself from tearing through the compound to find Paul himself.

"Go, we'll keep an eye on things here, see if we can help," Michonne squeezed Rick's arm in reassurance.

"Lead the way King Ezekiel," Rick said, feeling silly using the title but he wasn't going to pick a fight with a potential ally and trade partner. Daryl and Maggie fell into step beside Rick, as he knew they would.

"Jesus had this insane plan, he would bait the man who led Hilltop until Gregory would offer him up to the Saviors to get rid of him." Ezekiel began to explain as they entered the compound, walking the dirty and sometimes bloodstained halls easily.

"He knew his skills wouldn't keep him truly safe once in Negan’s clutches. He knew of Negan's harem of wives and affection for pretty things. Well, Jesus is very pretty and charming so he managed to gain a spot at Negan's side as his first husband. I'm unsure how Jesus got Negan to agree to many things and frankly, I do not want to know the horrid things Jesus endure to make sure no one else he cared about died." Ezekiel shuddered as he spoke and Maggie leaned against Daryl as she paled as Daryl bit his lower lip harshly while Rick's eyes narrowed as horrific ideas flew through their heads.

"He is good at making friends and has an incredible instinct about people. He got many on his side as Negan ruled them all with fear or promises of harming their loved ones. Jesus weeded out the truly insane ones and alongside Negan began to slip a certain root into their food. It took a month for enough to build up in their systems for it to truly poison them. That happened last night and that was when we struck. Taking the compound was easy and Jesus ended Negan's life with the man's own bat." Ezekiel explained, pride slowly filling his voice as he spoke of Paul's plan and how it went off without a hitch. Daryl’s heart pounded in his chest at the mental image of Paul ending Negan’s life with the man’s own precious bat while Maggie tightened her grip on him and Rick hummed under his breath, half impressed and half worried at the news.

The group came to a stop outside a door and Ezekiel placed his hand on the doorknob before sending them all a sad look.

"However not all went according to plan... Paul took a bullet in the side of his neck... He hasn't woken up yet. Our doctor got him stable but he just won't wake. He may never wake," Ezekiel suddenly looked old and weary. This set the trio’s fear skyrocketing up as they took in the news as Ezekiel pushed open the door to what must be the infirmary.

“Oh God,” Maggie gasped, one hand flying up to her mouth and the other one to her stomach on reflex at the sight that lay before them.

Paul was lying propped up on a bed, his arms tucked under white sheets and a thick wrapping of pink stained gauze was wrapped around his throat. His hair was limp and hanging loosely around his shoulders and his face was pale and gaunt in the lighting of the room. Dark circles were under his closed eyes and a giant tiger was snoozing at the foot of the bed.

The tiger opened its eyes and bared its fangs at the group before Ezekiel whistled lowly and the tiger yawned widely before settling back down.

“Oh Paul,” Daryl was the first to move, Maggie on his heels as they entered the room.

“Did you get the guy who did this?” Rick asked Ezekiel, rage and concern warring inside of the man as he stared at the still, injured form of the scout. The scout who had risked everything to take Negan down, who gave up everything to make sure no one from Alexandria or Hilltop was harmed further.

“He’s out there burning with the others,” Ezekiel promised, his voice just as dark as Rick imagined his voice had been.

“Good, thank you for helping him.” Rick held his hand out to the other leader and the two shook hands out of respect.

“He is a good friend, have faith. He will wake,” Ezekiel said firmly and Rick nodded his agreement. He worked closely with Paul before he went missing and knew how strong the scout was.

“He has to,” Rick murmured as he looked into the room to see Daryl clutching at Paul’s limp hand with a look of pain and worry on his face while Maggie was stroking Paul’s hair with a shaking hand.

“Aye,” Ezekiel murmured as well before clapping Rick on the shoulder before he left with one last look at Paul’s unconscious form.

“The idiot, he should have told us, should have asked for help.” Maggie sniffed as Rick pulled over two chairs for her and Daryl, knowing full well that neither of them were going to be leaving Paul’s side any time soon.

“You know that’s now how he works, he still thinks he has to do everything alone.” Daryl groused as he laced his fingers tightly with Paul’s limp ones.

“I know I just hate it. When he wakes up he is moving to Alexandria so we can keep an eye on him.” Maggie said firmly as she settled in the chair, folding her hands over her swelling stomach.

“When he wakes up I’m not letting him out of my sight for a good long while,” Daryl agreed as he rubbed his thumb over Paul’s hand, his eyes never leaving Paul’s blank face.

“I’m going to go see the others, see what we can do to help and figure out what to do with the Saviour’s who helped Paul. I trust you two have everything covered here?” Rick didn’t want to leave, but he knew he had to go check on the others.

“We got it covered, if not I’m sure that Tiger will rip anyone to shreds.” Maggie flicked her eyes to the resting tiger who looked peaceful but she had seen the nature channel back in the old world and knew how vicious they could be. That was the only reason Ezekiel must have left him in Paul’s room.

“I’m sure… He’s gonna pull through, he’s strong.” Rick placed his hand on Daryl’s shoulder in a silent gesture of support and Daryl nodded jerkily at the other man, but he never looked away from Paul.

That conversation was hours ago and night had fallen on the compound. Visitors from Alexandria had cycled through the room, wincing or outright sobbing at the sight of Paul’s unconscious form and the bandage around his throat.

Daryl hadn’t moved from his place next to Paul for all those hours, uncaring that his hand was cramping up as he held Paul’s hand. He didn’t have it in him to let go, he knew it was irrational but he thought that if he let go then Paul would slip away from him.

“You’re a moron Paul,” Daryl whispered when he knew Maggie was asleep, curled up in the chair and looking peaceful in her sleep now that Paul was safe and the threat of Negan and the Saviour’s finally gone from their lives.

“I wish ya had come to me, told me something…I get why ya didn’t though, I know I’m hot-headed and lead with ma fists and not ma head.” Daryl kept his voice low as not to wake Maggie but part of him wanted to shake Paul and shouted at him until he woke up and gave him that stupid smile of his that Daryl thought he would never see again.

“I love ya you idiot and if you don’t wake up I’ll never be able to tell you that, so I need you to wake up. Please, Paul, just wake up.” Daryl lifted Paul’s hand and pressed his lips to Paul’s knuckles and closed his eyes to compose himself.

Daryl thought he had just closed his eyes for a moment but next thing he knew sunlight was filtering through the window and a crick was in his neck. Daryl sighed as he sat up from where he had fallen asleep on the side of the bed and rubbed at his eyes before looking back at Paul and let out a startled noise when he saw beautiful eyes looking at him and a hazy smile on his lips.

“Hi,” Paul whispered and Daryl was lurching forward, cupping Paul’s face between his hands and capturing Paul’s lips with his own.

“Hi,” Daryl breathed out when he broke the kiss and Paul smiled up at him.

“I missed you,” Paul whispered as Daryl stared down at him with relief shining in his eyes.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” Daryl swore and Paul smiled wider.

“I hope not,” Paul smiled and Daryl basked in the warmth of it and everything was right with the world again. They would deal with the rest of it later, but right now it was just the two of them and that’s all Daryl needed.

#The Walking Dead #Paul's Plan #bad things happen bingo #AU #betrayal #bedside vigil #Daryl has feelings for Paul #injured Paul #coma paul #hurt/comfor #fallenqueen2

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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763

Why did you last feel like crying? My thesis was making me anxious and the songs off of Petals for Armor are still very fresh and are resonating with me very strongly for now, so those things happening at the same time nearly made me cry over breakfast.

How long ago and why did you last feel infuriated? Infuriated is a strong word. I suppose I last felt it when I heard the news of the police shooting a former soldier with PTSD for going out without his face mask on to get groceries. You don’t fucking KILL anyone for not having a mask, you educate them and you fucking give them one.

Do emotions control you or do you control your emotions? Uhhh it really depends. Most of the time I always want to address stuff maturely and make sure my emotions are in check before I respond to anything; but there are also times I’ll give myself a treat and allow myself to be petty, letting my emotions control me.

Do you keep your friends secrets/private information to yourself? Some secrets will make it to Gabie, but I mainly tell her only because she’s so forgetful and will forget most details in the next hour. I don’t tell her much more personal secrets, like if someone came out to me.

What negative quality do your friends bring up the most? We don’t really have talks where we talk about our negative qualities; my friends and I do have similar talks, but instead what we do is we’ll raise events in the past where one of us may have annoyed another and be like, “I actually didn’t like when you did/said this or that before.” I’m lucky to have good friends who can be honest and mature about this kind of stuff.

What quality do you think you have that others don't think you do? You’d have to ask them first. I don’t always keep track of how people think of me.

Do you often "jump" to conclusions? Only when I’m expecting a worst-case scenario to happen. I like to always expect the worst so that the actual outcome doesn’t disappoint me as much.

Do you find being alone with strangers scary, interesting or indifferent? It ranges from wary to completely uncomfortable. I never find the prospect of being surrounded by strangers ‘interesting.’

Do you think you know a lot about the world? Definitely not. I’m incredibly young and I know very little outside of my home and school, so I’m currently holding a weird excitement for graduating and getting a job and finally getting to know the rest of the world bit by bit.

What about the world do you wish you never found out? I don’t think like that. I embrace reality lol give me all the bad, worse, and worst news.

Do you know first aid? We had a) health classes throughout high school that taught us first aid and b) a couple of first aid seminars for NSTP in college. Our final exam in freshman year was for each of us to demonstrate CPR to a mannequin. But for some reason, I still haven’t gotten basic first aid down to a T. I think because I’ve never had to use my learnings in an emergency situation, I always end up forgetting them over time.

Does the sight of blood make you feel sick? Oh my god fuck yes, especially my own. Gabie’s nose also bleeds all the time and I always have to excuse myself because I can’t handle the blood, but it also makes me feel like shit that I can’t even help my own girlfriend lmao. I find it so weird because I’ll have no problem watching pro wrestling which has so much more legit blood in it.

Does your first name have an L in it? It does not, but my second and middle names do.

Middle name have a C in it? No. My last name does. You’re always one name off hahaha.

Last name have a R in it? No, but my first does. Catch up bruh.

Do your initials spell a legitimate word? If so, what? No.

The word above, does it have any connection to you at all?

Do you prefer classic rock or nope alternative? I have no idea what nope alternative is but that’s a hilarious typo if it’s one. I do listen to alternative music, but nothing classic rock.

Do you like Kings of Leon? Just their songs that went on to become popular.

How about The Script? Ah no, was never a fan. I don’t get the appeal of their songs, but they’re so wildly popular here I can’t even begin to tell you just how much. They’ve been to Manila 4 or 5 times, which is already essentially equivalent to a million times when it comes to international acts coming to the Philippines. A lot of artists come here, but very very few come back.

Does crying make you feel better? It doesn’t make me feel better, but it does serve as a nice release.

Do you know a girl called Becca? Yup, one of Rita’s older sisters.

How about a guy called Gregory? Not that name exactly but the Spanish/Italian version, Gregorio. We called him Greg. He was a super brief member of our org but he ghosted us not long after he passed the application.

Does someones background effect whether you'll be friends with them or not? Background effect made me imagine different auras that people would come with if that we’re possible, like stars or hearts hahahaha. ANYWAY it would definitely depend on what aspect of ‘background’ we’re talking about. Someone’s ethnic or racial background wouldn’t bother me at all, but if they just came out of prison for raping someone I wouldn’t want to be around them, especially if their behavior is still a bit off.

How about their religious background? I preferably wouldn’t want to hang out with anyone who’s a devout, by-the-book Christian because our beliefs would wildly clash and they’ll just ruin any conversation. I wouldn’t even be able to talk about my girlfriend, for instance.

If someone admitted cheating in a past relationship of theirs, would you trust them? No.

Do you drink tea and/or coffee every day? I used to drink coffee everyday this quarantine, but I had to stop because I was starting to get headaches often. I drink it probably 2-3 times a week now.

Did you ever want to be a cook as a kid? Not really. I don’t think I ever said “I want to be a chef like my dad,” or something along those lines as a kid.

How about a fashion designer? No.

Do you wish that magic was real? Not really. I’m fine with the fact that they’re all tricks, it actually makes it more entertaining that way.

What food would you love to wipe off the face of the earth? Eh, at least one person likes each kind of food and I wouldn’t wanna rob them of their joy.

Can you use a bottle opener? I haven’t even tried using one.

Do you own a cheese grater? Yup.

What time will it be in 38 minutes time? 7:18 PM.

What day/date will it be in 11 days time? It’ll be May 21st, a Thursday.

Have you ever owned a pet fish? Yup, just several goldfish as a kid.

Do you prefer fire or ice? Ice.

Do you rap along with rap songs? If I memorize the verses then yeah I can’t help but rap along.

When happy, do you become more talkative? I think so. I get very chatty when with Gabie so that’s probably why.

Bowling or sailing? Why? Bowling, only because I’ve never been sailing. I bet if I were to sail, I’d prefer that, though. < Yup, exactly this. Bowling is fun though!

What colour is your kettle? The one we have is silver. I don’t have my own.

How about your microwave? It is black.

Do you prefer sitting in the front or back of a car? Most of the time I’m the one driving, so that makes me pick front by default haha. When I’m not driving though I really prefer sitting at the back as I rarely get to feel like a passenger anymore.

How about in a train? On the bus? I’ve only ridden a train once but wasn’t able to form an opinion about it. When it comes to the bus, it’s always fun being at the back haha especially when I’m riding with friends.

Do you care about politics? Yes, but my concern is mostly for our own. I’m not up to speed with other countries’ governments; I only know enough to form a general opinion about their highest leader, like how Trump is a piece of shit.

Obama or Bush? Obama.

Blair or Brown? I don’t pay much attention to UK politics. < This. But the royal family, that’s a different story HAHAHA

When did you last cook something from scratch? I *helped* my dad bread chicken several few weeks ago, if that counts.

What things make you jealous? I don’t feel jealous a lot, but when I do it’s usually just FOMO.

Are you offended easily by non politically correct language? Sure, especially if the people using them aren’t willing to be educated.

Do you think the censors/fcc go a bit too far or are just right? Can’t relate.

Do you feel hungry, thirsty, sleepy or none of the above? I’m hungry since it’s time for dinner. I’m just waiting for my dad to finsh up cooking.

What's your I.Q? I dunno, I’ve never had it checked.

What's your Mum's Mum called? How about your Dad's Dad? I call both sets of grandparents the traditional Filipino way, Lola for my grandmas and Lolo for my grandpas.

Do you prefer crepes, pancakes or waffles? Waffles > pancakes > crepes. I’ve never even had crepes before.

Do you have ice-cream in your fridge right now? Yeah I think so. We always have enough supply of it in the freezer because both of my parents love their ice cream.

How about chicken nuggets? I think we do but it hasn’t been touched in a while since my dad has preferred preparing real food throughout the quarantine haha.

Do you eat fish often? Yes, both cooked and as sushi. Fish is a huge part of Filipino cuisine because duh, we’re surrounded by water. My family will typically have tuyo, danggit, or dilis (kinds of sun-dried fish) for breakast and you can always find a fish dish or two at birthday parties, whether on its own or relleno (stuffed).

Have you ever taken a martial art? Which one{s}? I haven’t. There was a time I wanted to, but I didn’t pursue it because I thought I was too thin and unfit to try it out.

Do you know anyone who is scared of you? Probably.

What person who has died would you bring back and why? Nacho. It wasn’t his time yet.

Do you like watermelon? I like some watermelon-flavored stuff like popsicles, but I don’t eat the fruit.

Can you remember the month of your first kiss? January 24, 2015. Couple steps ahead of ya.

Do you make friends easily? I make acquaintances easily, but I choose who to let into my inner circle. I’d make more friends if I wanted to, but I just choose not to.

What makes you different from everyone else? I honestly don’t know. My interests are pretty common and I haven’t had anything super unique happen to me.

I give you a piece of paper. What do you draw/write on it? Practice my alma mater’s penmanship, which is always my go-to when I’m asked to write anything haha.

What pictures or photos are up in your lounge? Is this a Myspace thing? Lol I don’t really have my photos ‘up’ anywhere on my social media; my accounts just show the latest ones I uploaded.

Do you like purple and white patterned things? It wouldn’t be the first one I’d choose, no.

Do you know anyone called Pipa? No, but my sister went to school with a Pipay. I think her full name was Piper.

I say purple, you think... My great-grandmother. She loved purple and had it everywhere in her home.

What do you think is the most interesting thing about you? I don’t know. I’d rather people who know me answer this as they might be able to come up with different answers, and it’d be interesting to see how they see me.

Do you like being complimented or does it make you uncomfortable? It’s nice to be recognized but overall I’m shit at accepting them.

Does the description of your starsign correspond with your personality? My astrology-believing friends tell me that they match, but I don’t believe in astrology so I don’t think about it all that much and mostly think of it as coincidence.

Do you have a photo album? Yeah my mom was big on albums from when my siblings and I were infants to when we reached pre-teen years. Each of us have two photo albums.

What artists’ paintings do you find the most beautiful? Monet’s.

What about the most disturbing? I find it more sad than disturbing, but I’ve always been affected by artists who made self-portraits as their health was deteriorating over the years.

Have you ever gone to a camp or summer school? I attended a summer sports clinic for swimming when I was 9.

What was your favourite cartoon as a child? Spongebob. Fairly OddParents was a very very very close second because it was just as funny as Spongebob.

What was your biggest fear as a child? Introducing myself. I always got bullied for my name and got called a tomboy/boy for it more than once, so I was conditioned to be nervous whenever I had to introduce myself and say my own name.

Would you rather be able to fly or breathe underwater? Fly, so I can travel anywhere hah.

What about invisibility or mindreading? Probably invisibility. There are stuff I’d discover in reading minds that I think I’m better off not knowing and I find it a tad bit invasive than being invisible.

Do you like what you see in the mirror? Sure. Just not so much these days since I never get to dress up or fix myself up anymore.

Which stereotype do you dislike the most? Offensive ones.

Can you remember all your past teachers names? There’ll be some grade-subject combos I’ve forgetten about by now, like I no longer remember my 3rd grade English teacher for one. But my memory in general is still quite impressive and I remember most of my past teachers.

Do you like talent shows? Which ones? I wouldn’t tune in to them religiously but I do love Golden Buzzer compilations from America’s/Britain’s Got Talent.

Have you ever failed an important exam? In what? Only in high school, and it was the more advanced math/science subjects that I really could not start to care for, like chemistry and calculus.

Do you find people taller than you intimidating? Kinda? Filipinos are very tiny people so whenever I meet a foreigner I always have to crane my neck all the way up and it does scare me a little bit hahaha.

Do you think you are better than people of a different country/background? Not at all.

What's your favourite thing about your country? I suppose the tourism side of it is wonderful. We’ve always been known for our hospitality, our tour guides are always so friendly and funny, we have beautiful beaches and islands, and Filipinos are generally a nice people and very easy to get along with.

What's your least favourite thing about your country? The colonization, the government, and people who continue to glorify the government as if they can’t do anything wrong.

Who is your favourite bzoinker? I have several favorite survey-makers but I’m too shy to mention them on here lol.

What websites do you have bookmarked? I have soooooooooooo many bookmarks.

Do you use bows and ribbons to decorate your gifts? I’ll stick a bow on a Christmas gift if I have one, but otherwise no. < Same, I only get real decorative for Christmas.

Do you listen to the same type of music as your parents? What type is that? Not at all. My mom is really into cheesy 80s and 90s love songs and I just can’t imagine myself listening to those on my own time lmao. My dad doesn’t have much of a music taste.

What TV show scared you as a kid? Mr. Meaty. What the fuck was that. < HAHAHAHAHAHA this fucking show. That was such a mess; I never understood it but I found it so hilarious. Anyway, I don’t think I was scared of any show as a kid.

Family Guy, The Simpsons or South Park? Why? The Simpsons. Family Guy’s jokes can sometimes go too far, and isn’t South Park just blatantly offensive? The humor in The Simpsons is just right for me.

#survey #surveys

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imaginesnkdorks · 5 years

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Thank Goodness for Crazy

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 |

Part VIII: Bruised Cinderella

Pairing: Erwin/Reader

Summary: That time Erwin and the others attended a fancy party.

“Today’s the day!” I said to myself the moment my eyes open. It’s the day that Nanaba would humiliate me in front of everyone. Or it’s the day I’ll beat her senseless. I trained so hard this past week.

Racing to the grounds where we’ll battle it out, I saw a number of people gathering. Damn, it was those bets. Hange was noisily calling out to people to place their bets. They really made a game out of this. My coach was already here, and finding him was quite easy. He was standing beside the betting board.

“What the hell?” I don’t know what I expected but there are obviously more people expecting Nanaba to win. Those who bet on me would expect a huge payout as I could count them off of my hands.

“I’m betting on you.” Erwin tried to encourage me.

“Of course you are.”

Now that it’s here, I’m finally here, I feel chills. Nanaba is a legit soldier. She’s killed titans, and the only thing I’ve ever killed is a teeny tiny spider and I was screaming my head off the whole time.

Soon enough, we were called to the middle. Hange is also the referee. As soon as she gave the go signal, Nanaba went in to attack! The bitch tried to punch me! But my training paid off – my reflexes improved a lot I feel like a ninja.

I successfully dodged, but she immediately followed up with another punch. Raising both my arms, I shielded my face. “Ugh!” Her punch is really something! But it’s nothing compared to Erwin’s.

Erwin never went easy on me during our sparring sessions, I almost hate him for it. But I can see that it might just be the thing that’ll help me live.

Since I’ve gone defensive for a good five minutes, Nanaba’s guard isn’t that up. I grabbed the chance and kicked her on the stomach. She caught my foot and won’t let go. With a smug smile, “got you.” She taunted.

This would’ve have been bad for me, except this is my favorite move. Using her grip on my foot for balance and foundation, I raised my self almost over her head going for another kick. And I hit her hard with my other foot, she flew backward and fell hard on the ground.

All around me were surprised faces. Everyone was so quiet for a full second before they started cheering.

“Wow. Looks like you’ve really been training hard.” Nanaba said before she runs off to attack me. I suddenly regret being an asshole who kicked her in the face.

To sum it up, I took a beating. But she received her fair share of bruises. We’ve been going at this for more than half an hour, and I am really tired. I can feel my lips are swollen now. I need to finish this.

We began running towards each other and she went in for a punch, which I dodged easily, then I used my ultimate move. I punched her on the throat. I know, dick move. That’s why I love it. She fell flat on the ground, gasping for air, and Hange went in for the countdown.

“ …. 3 …. 2 …. 1 …. Andi wins!” Hange announced whilst raising my bruised arm. Despite most of these assholes losing their bets, they still cheered for me. Looking at the crowd, I saw Erwin practically glowing with pride. I can’t help but smile.

Walking towards Nanaba, I fought all temptation to gloat and instead gave her my hand. Good thing she was a good sport. We spent the rest of the day in the hospital wing, wrapped in bandages and smelling like antiseptic.

Erwin and the rest came to visit. Judging by Mike’s face, Erwin had rubbed my triumph in his creepy face. And probably also because he lost the bet.

“Andi! Where did all that came from? That throat punch was so awesome!” Hange yelled excitedly. But she wasn’t satisfied with that, she ran towards me and tackled me.

“Really? Hange I’m injured here!” My screams were muffled as I was unsuccessful in pushing her off of me. Good thing Erwin helped and dragged her off.

We got out of the hospital wing that same day and went back to training right away. I still follow the strict training routine Erwin prepared, but since an expedition is coming up he’s quite busy. Meaning our private sessions are over.

I’m scheduled to practice using the 3DM gear today, and I am seriously excited. My teachers for the day are my closest buddies, Hange and Nanaba.

Turns out, balancing is not so easy. I flipped over a few times and gave my friends another round of a laughing fit, but by sunset, I got the hang of it. I can’t help but love the feel of the wind as I zip past trees and dummy titans.

I can’t help but imagine being Spider-Man. So geeky, I know.

It’s been three days since the duel, and I’m looking less bruised now. Also, it’s the day we started our journey to the inner wall. Apparently, traveling between walls could take days if we travel on land. Taking the boat will cut our travel time shorter.

The boat ride was uneventful and painfully boring – I spent the whole time sleeping, eating and reading. My ideal situation, really but since everything’s so new, I would’ve loved to see how different people from these parts are. Too bad I couldn’t.

Also, everyone who came along was shut in the conference room because most of them were Squad and Team leaders. Can you believe that Hange is a team leader? Too bad Nanaba is apparently “not important enough” to come along.

After the long boat ride, we finally arrived at our destination. It took us almost three days so the ball is tomorrow. The moment we land, a few people greeted uncle Keith. I have no idea who they are, but I would say that they’re someone rich, because I can definitely smell money off of them.

We were then escorted to a fancy looking house. Well, to be honest almost every house here is fancy. It’s the habitat of the rich people.

The house that we’re staying at is a regular house, I’d say. It’s almost similar to houses back home, really. Only zero electric appliances. I can see how different the lifestyle of people here compares to those from wall Maria – it’s like the Capitol from Panem!

After touring the plain-but-big house, I have nothing else to do but sleep. So I did just that. Good thing time went by so fast and it was finally Sunday – the day of the Ball.

Erwin knocked on my door and patiently waited for me to answer. He obviously learned from his past blunder.

“Here.” He said with no preamble whatsoever, as he handed me a blue gown. It’s a really frilly kind of gown.

“This? This is what I’m going to wear?”

“Yes. It is the craze among the ladies in the inner city. You’ll fit in nicely wearing that.”

“Uhuh.” I said, and he promptly left me so that I could fix myself up.

I found out that they have a decent amount of makeup, albeit seemingly ancient they do the job. I mean, the brow liners are like charcoal for goodness’ sake. I feel like I’m in that memoirs of a geisha makeover scene, except less graceful.

The gown was a nice shade of ice blue; it was off-shoulder with frills just about everywhere. Oh, and big ass ribbons.

Looking at the mirror, I can see that my hair is a mess, and my face is covered with rouge on my cheeks and lips. Despite my best efforts, I just can’t seem to tame my hair, so I just put it up in a messy bun. I know, it doesn’t go well with everything else but I really suck at fixing myself up.

Leaving my room, I found that Erwin was waiting for me. He looked so good in his black coat, black pants, and blue shirt. Whoa, we’re matching? He offered me his arm, which I took, and we walked side by side to the carriage.

Only then did I start feeling jittery. What if I slip up? Boy, uncle Keith is such a girl. We’re already in the carriage and he’s still not around. Man, what if I get asked about my life?

“Where are the others?” I asked, trying to get my mind off of thinking that I’ll mess up.

“Some went ahead; the others went to the market for supplies. We might as well get two things done during this trip.” Erwin answered calmly. Seriously, is he that used to these balls that he’s not nervous at all?

“Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.” Erwin said as he covered my hand with his. That’s only when I noticed I was shaking a little. I felt like my voice might crack, so I just nodded.

Someone is finally getting in the carriage, but the one behind the door was not uncle Keith. It was Hange!

“Something came up; the commander will be riding with Lord Gregory so it’s just the three of us. Ahh!” Hange was wearing her uniform. Does she even have other clothes? I waited for her to get inside but she just stared at us, then at our hands.

Crap!

I pulled my hand back, Erwin did the same. Hange then entered with a suspiciously sly smile. Good thing though she just stayed quiet the whole way. But she kept giving us meaningful looks.

We soon arrived at a big house – no, a mansion! – and it was brightly lit, you’d think it’s Christmas. Music was playing and you can already hear it from outside, and its only classical music which I assume is being played live. Well, duh? Like they could play Uptown Funk.

The introductions went smoothly. Erwin introduced me to so many nobles, I didn’t even bother to remember their names. Some creepy old geezers would just be, well, creepy. Offering me all kinds of stuff and asking me to leave the military to be with them. It’s more annoying than creepy, actually.

“Erwin, Lord Lawrence is over there. He’d love to hear about your formation proposal.” Uncle Keith popped up of nowhere, said this piece and dragged off Erwin to where ever this Lawrence is.

“I’ll be back, Hange stay with her.” He said before disappearing with the commander. Hange is too absorbed with the buffet that she hardly pays any attention to me. “I’ll just sit over there,” I informed her before running off to sit in a corner. I think I heard her say ok, but her mouth is so full so I really can’t tell.

Watching the party from where I am made me feel like I’m back home. No matter where you are, there really are people who can be vain. These rich assholes here are just partying and eating till they can’t breathe, while there are people who live on bread and soup in wall Maria. FYI, people like me.

“Is the party a little too much for you, my lady?” A voice asked. Looking at the source, I found a man sitting beside me. It wasn’t just any man – he is drop dead gorgeous! I guess he could read my thoughts as I think I’m almost drooling, and he gave me a small laugh of amusement. Even though I know he’s laughing at me, I can’t help but smile. He’s that hot.

He’s got this soft, brown, curls for hair, and he’s not too skinny nor buffed. He’s got green eyes, thick-ish brows, and perfect teeth. He’s just my type of guy, damn!

“I’m Theodore.”

“Andi. Uhm, I mean I’m Andi.”

“Lovely name for a lovely lady.” He said as he scooped up my hand for a kiss. Honestly, I would’ve rolled my eyes at this but he’s just so cute. Turns out, he’s not just all looks. We spent quite some time talking about literature. Good thing that I’m well read on their books. We also talked about random things.

We enjoyed our chat a little too much because we didn’t notice the crowd was silent until uncle Keith called me and some other man called Theo. Yes, I call him Theo now.

Looking at uncle Keith, I now noticed that every eye in the room was on us, and most people had amused faces but Erwin’s not one of them. He’s standing right beside the commander, his face serious and his lip a tight line.

Theo just laughed at the situation and stood up, giving me his hand so I’m standing beside him. The man who called Theo then spoke, “thank you, everyone, for coming to our humble party. My family appreciates your presence in a most wonderful celebration …” yadda yadda yadda.

I tuned out the speech partly because I couldn’t care less, mostly because Theo wouldn’t stop talking and whispering to me. The crowd started clapping, signaling the end of the man’s speech.

Looking around, I saw that uncle Keith was approaching with his little entourage, including the man whose speech I ignored.

“Andi, this is Lord Thomas Van Rumpade. Lord Thomas, this is my niece Andi Frost.”

“My my, who would’ve thought you would have a niece like her? I see you met my son Theodore.”

In my shock, I couldn’t stop myself that I turned to Theo and asked him, “this is your party?” Good thing they just laughed. Well, I don’t really know if that’s a good thing.

“No. It’s more like a party for me.” Theo answered me. A party for him? Shit. Is this like the party in Cinderella were the Prince can just pick whomever he wants for a wife?

Good thing it wasn’t It was a coming of age party. Apparently, rich people are used to buying military titles, and this is the day he’ll decide to be a Military Police, or a Garrison Soldier or if he’s feeling hardcore, a Survey Corps Soldier.

Since his family is going to buy the title, the Military branch he chooses will obviously receive the money. That’s where we come in.

Dragging Erwin to the side, I asked him in the faintest whisper I could manage, “this is why I’m here, isn’t it? He’s almost my age.”

“I’m afraid so.” He said. Looking at him, I really can’t tell what he’s thinking. It’s like the Erwin I know is on break, and this one is soldier Erwin. But maybe it’s just in my head.

At the end of the party, Theo and his family ended up choosing the Survey Corps. Uncle Keith was so happy, I think he would actually jump. Theo’s father said they chose us because “this wee little lass is doing her best to protect us. What better way to thank her and her comrades than giving them funds?”

It was a little too straight to the point, but I don’t care. It’s money and if it will help, then all is well. And since it’s just a title, Theo is free to stay behind, though he wouldn’t have it that way. He ended up tagging along on our way home. Well, not tagging. He’s one of us now.

#thank goodness for crazy #Erwin #Erwin Smith #snk erwin #commander erwin #erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #commander handsome #mod max

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knock-me-out · 5 years

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k.o at fansigns pt.2

once again under the cut

owen

doesn’t sit down unless he absolutely has to, so don’t count on him being there to hold your hand because he’s most likely standing where everyone can see him, decked out in all these random gifts, doing aegyo

whenever he is sat down there are two staff members on either side of him to make sure he doesn’t get up and go bug one of his hyungs or dae

you can usually find him not doing his job as an idol and instead going over to poke kiyong with a fairy wand someone gave him and then shrieking as the elder chases after him making death threats

he had a signature, but now it’s more like his name in chicken scrawl

is with dae more than half the time. definitely drags the younger to front and center stage so they can make a big ol heart together. #1 daesung aegyo supporter

catch him seriously wearing like three pairs of sunglasses, a hat, two head bands, and whatever he can fit on his wrists. literally will wear everything that fans give him and the staff have to remove things from him if they want to take it. gets into these funny little fights with staff members that involves him yelling and running away with all these random gifs in his arms. drops half the stuff.

fans like to give him little shark plushies since remi was nice enough to expose that owen sleeps with a big ol shark plush named gregory. now greg has a ton of children and keeps getting more every event. will legit growl if the staff try to take the shark plushies so he ends every even surrounded by tiny sharks

thinks its really fun when english speaking fans come to greet him because he doesn’t have to stress about not remembering a word in korean and its a little funny when people just tell him to speak english cause of his accent. getting a little tired of doing it just so they can squeal over how he pronounces certain words

kyungsoo

the k.o member who probably likes fansigns the least

there are just a lot of people who want to touch him, and he really doesn’t want to hold peoples hands or give high fives for the most part. thinks it’s flattering when so many fans come to see him, but he really tries to skip out on fansigns and the company lets him half the time

the other half of the time, when he can’t skip, he sandwiches himself between jae and jui. fans have sorta caught on that he doesn’t like to hold hands, so many are respectful, but on the occasion they aren’t, kyungsoo just has to suck it up. he’s been called rude several times in person by fangirls (and a fanboy once) at these events simply because he doesn’t really wanna be touched and when he is holding hands or whatever, he looks like he doesn’t want to be there

remembers fans by face, especially the ones who ask him good questions or have solid conversations with him. he once held up the line talking to a girl about lyric writing for several minutes. greets that girl by her name when she comes to fansigns now and enjoys getting to spend time conversing with her even if it’s short

holds jae’s hand under the table for most of the fansign. calms him down

usually just ends up seated the entire time signing stuff and holding polite—but for the most part rather stiff—conversation with fans. he’s known to be the least interesting member to converse with, but of course, there are those few fans that get kyungsoo going about music and all of a sudden he’s waving his hand, yelling your name, and smiling whenever he sees you again

he will snack on everything during fansigns. a very hungry boy. if one of the members opens a bag of snacks he will be right there with his mouth open waiting for them too feed him. particularly partial to dried squid. when a member gets that from a fan, you can guarantee it’s gonna end up in ksoo’s mouth

jui, remi, owen, and daesung really like to dress him up because he’s “so cute!” so he often ends up wearing a pair of sunglasses and some sort of hair accessory. his outfit is changed regularly during signs and his cheeks constantly squished

remi

he’s the second most chaotic member after kiyong for sure, but also is stressed™ because he’s trying to make sure kiyong isn’t pulled over by the ceo and told to stop being a little bitch. doesn’t want his son kicked out of the group for stripping during a fansign

fans know he likes comics and so they tend to give him those during fansigns. gets a lot of comics in korean, some in english, and on the rare occasion, a batman issue in french (it happened once and he got all choked up)

will often make a playlist to put on in the back for fansigns and is super thankful that the staff actually let him do it. usually has a wide variety of music on the list, but thinks kpop is usually the best choice since it’s often energizing. there’s a lot of shinee and twice on his playlist. hyun sometimes complains that he’s not promoting their group enough, but remi has god tier taste in jams, so he can only complain so much

shares all his snacks with every single fan that approaches him. doesn’t even ask if they’re hungry just kinda turns the bag over and asks “do you want some?” while signing the fans album or whatever they brought

usually situated at the end of the table next to ryeo who mercilessly pinches his side when he thinks remi’s gonna do something stupid. all the members agree it’s an effective method of getting remi to not be a dumbass

he has stood on the table and started rapping. almost died when he fell off. really lucky that dae caught him... even after they both fell over cause remi’s apparently “too heavy”

really likes to give high fives to fans and will do that dumb thing where he’ll just nyoooooom past a bunch of people with their hands out and get as many high fives as possible

his signing area is so messy. he sometimes just like sweeps stuff off the table in front of him so fans can put down stuff for him to sign comfortably

jui

is the nice calm polite boy at fansigns until ki decides to get into his face then he literally has kiyong screaming as he strangles him. it can get really chaotic

fans really love to give him the super cute stuff because he’s small and apparently that makes him cuter. jui would love to disagree, but he’s also probably the second best in the group at aegyo. could probably beat out owen if he stood next to daesung and was cute because he’s found that fans absolutely go nuts over their height difference

enjoys when they’re in mandarin speaking countries for fansigns because he’s the only member fluent in mandarin and so he gets the most attention. like owen, he also really enjoys when fans speak mandarin/hoikken want to talk to him because then he doesn’t have to stress about translating his thoughts into korean

he’s a big hand holder. will swing your arms around as he compliments you. biggest offender in making victories blush like crazy

he’s good at reading people, so if a fan comes in and seems like they had a bad day, he’ll go extra lengths to help cheer them up. really good at making victories feel comfortable with him and finding what they need to start smiling again

once had a victory ask what he would want as a gift, and he told her a book. ever since that fansign he’s never had to step foot in a bookstore again. reads everything fans give him, and will post on the fan cafe when he finds a particularly good read. tells all the victories that give him books to put their name inside so he can thank them in his post

you can definitely see him get a little jealous when a victory comes to a fan sign only to stand up and reveal he/shes taller than him. this is mostly because if they ask to take a picture, jui looks small, and then ki makes fun of him

always feels embarrassed when a fan gives him a particularly expensive gift because nine times outta ten he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with it and feels bad to have a fan spend this much on him

sol

he’s a very basic fansign idol. doesn’t do anything crazy. very much balances out the english line’s chaotic energy

however he does seem to pay more attention to jungsoo than the fans. you’ll usually end up not seeing them separately but talking to them together. their always next to each other during fansigns and hongsol is constantly fussing over jungsoo for sometimes no reason at all

he makes a ton of terrible puns while chatting it up with the fans that come to visit him. there’s always just a lot of laughter that comes out of his time with victories. either that or groans and “oppa stop it. that’s horrible”

likes being called oppa or hyung by younger fans because it makes him feel closer to them. tells them to treat him like an older brother. however if he does find an older fan (there are a few) he’ll brightly smile at them and tell them to please take care of him. really good at making older women’s hearts melt jungsoo should be jealous

likes to wear only the stupidest things he can find. his personal favorites are those hats shaped like random fish. there’s this one hat shaped like bungeoppang (fish bread) that is his favorite thing and he sometimes can just be found wearing it at the dorm looking like an idiot. usually by the end of a fansign he looks like he went to a costume shop and tried on all the gag outfits

has a killer memory. can remember victories names, faces, favorite member, what they gave him last fansign, questions they asked him, etc. very friendly with people who come to visit again and tends to act more like an old friend than idol when talking to them

asks victories a lot of questions, but usually not the typical “have you eaten?” or “where are you from?” it’s usually more like “what’s a movie you watch when your sad?” or “if you could take one of us away with you to a deserted island, which one of us would you take?” retains most of this information. never asks a victory the same question twice

always super calm while talking to fans. keeps himself at the same level of energy the entire time, and that’s really how he goes about life. people have noticed though that his energy spikes when jungsoo shows up to hang around hongsol

ryeokwon

is used as an undercover moderator for these things. doesn’t ever let things get to wild and will usually be the one to subdue kiyong when he decides to go overboard. he gets called no fun a lot by the members (mostly ki, owen, remi, and dohwan) because he stops them from burning down the venue or killing each other

really sweet with fans. smiles the entire time he’s talking to them and is always ready to tell them it’s okay or wipe their tears if they start crying. very very gentle when he has any physical contact with a victory at all

people know he’s the angelic member, but fans will come out of the fan sign swearing that it’s true. he’s just so sweet and soft with fans and most of the girls just melt, but for the most part the male victories aren’t as interested. ryeo’s still super soft with them though. can’t change that

highkey is always is situated next to remi and ki because they’re the two most chaotic members. under the table it’d be a miracle if he didn’t have a hand on their thighs reminding them that he’s willing to squeeze very very hard if they pull anything that would cause a mess. remi tends to be the better listener. kiyong just leaves his seat and goes and does his chaotic stuff where ryeo can’t get to him. he’s either really smart or really dumb, and ryeo thinks it’s the second one

always gets like the cute gifs and not just the gag ones. it’d be a miracle to not see him with like a little flower clipped into his hair or heart shaped sunglasses pulled over his eyes. gets a lot of girls sitting in front of him and just squealing because he looks so cute. ryeo, even after being an active idol for a little over two years, isn’t sure whether he enjoys it or not

makes his members share their snacks because the staff love to take his away. can be found with his mouth hanging open making little noises so someone will shove a chip or sweet thing in there. always does a little wiggle and hums happily after being fed. fans think it’s the cutest shit. ryeo’s just really happy to get some tasty food

usually won’t get out of his seat unless someone drags his ass up to go do something. his one exception is if the opportunity to show off his girl group dancing skills arise. when he has time he sometimes just messes around and teaches himself (and on occasion the rest of the dance line) girl group choreo. loves getting to show his skills off since he worked hard. a fan favorite is his cover of twice’s ‘what is love’

doesn’t like to talk a lot during signs and is much more a listener. will hold a fans hands and just let them chat away until they have to move on to the next member. is an engaged listener and always makes sure to affirm he’s listening by nodding and making little noises

#oc kpop group #kocnet #kpop oc #fansigns #member_reacts #🦞

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francesderwent · 6 years

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“In Need of a Generic Father Figure” A Veronica Mars Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies Meet-Cute LV AU Week Day 7 Canon-typical language, but otherwise general audiences On AO3 Inspired by this post and that one scene in Charlie Don’t Surf.

______________________________________________________________

It was supposed to be a kind of housewarming-slash-homecoming party, the kind of event that was totally low key in its formulation and planning stage but got completely out of hand once things got rolling. All their friends from the old neighborhood were coming over, and it was supposed to be all nostalgic idiocy born from the eternal familiarity of each having been present for one another’s particular flavor of shitty childhood. There were no delusions about the depth of this bond, and so they weren’t expecting it to be a great party, not the best night of anyone’s life by any means, but it was the sort of gathering you could predict, could depend on. Low-pressure, low stakes, low key.

So, precisely the kind of event which would have a giant wrench thrown into it if you were to add in an unknown factor, say, a perfect stranger to man the grill.

“But he wouldn’t be a stranger,” Dick is insisting. “He’d be a dad.”

Logan gapes at him. “Whose dad?”

Dick shrugs, ineloquently.

“So by dad, you just mean some unknown-as-yet male person who has at one point fathered a child?”

“Sure.”

“So, some unknown person’s father, standing on the corner of our property, making hamburgers.”

“Grilling hamburgers, that’s essential.” Dick looks up from his computer and gives Logan a look like he’s disappointed in him for missing an obvious point. “And it’s not just some random sperm donor, dude, he has to be fatherly and shit. I put it in the ad.”

“Ah yes, the ad,” Logan says. “The Craigslist ad, which you put up online without consulting or telling me. I read the ad. And yet here I stand, questioning the entire premise behind it.” But Dick has returned to his computer, presumably to scroll through his emailed responses. Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Alright, the court recognizes that grilled hamburgers are better than any alternative. But why do we need someone else to come grill? You and I are fair-to-average at setting things on fire already.”

“We don’t have a grill.”

“No, but we both have trust funds that kicked in some time ago. You may remember them. They’re how we afforded the house…”

Dick huffs. “So we just buy a grill?” Logan gives him the raised eyebrows and jazz hands: duh. Dick bangs on the space bar. “Just buy one, from the depths of our rich boy pockets, without working for it or anything.”

Logan stares. “Are you having some kind of break?”

“It’s stupid to spend money if we could just borrow one.”

“Okaaaay,” Logan says. “So why aren’t you advertising for a grill we can borrow?”

“Because!”

“Because what, Dick?”

“Your dad is supposed to teach you how to grill!” Dick bites out.

They stare at each other for a long beat, then Dick tears his eyes away and starts clattering angrily on his keyboard. Logan sighs, then gingerly sits next to him on the sofa.

“You know,” he says, careful to keep his tone conversational, “if you wanted to sign up for one of those programs for kids with deadbeat dads where they hang out with well-adjusted adult men and learn life skills, I would have happily signed up with you, but we really should have done that when we were younger.”

Dick throws an elbow into his ribs half-heartedly. “Shut up.”

“I’m not saying, like, when we were twelve,” Logan goes on, warming to the topic, “because we mostly hadn’t figured out our dads were deadbeat by then. But definitely before we finished college and joined the workforce. I’m thinking like nineteen or twenty would have been the ideal age. Our father figures could have taught us to consume alcohol, in addition to teaching us to grill.”

“We were already pretty good at drinking alcohol by then,” Dick reminds him.

“Then they could have given us a strict talking-to about underage drinking,” Logan says. “It’s far too late for that now, and we’ve missed our chance.”

“Missed our chance…” Dick echoes.

Logan looks at him sideways.

Dick catches his eye and actually sniffs a little. “I know it’s stupid. You don’t have to tell me it’s stupid.”

Logan shifts uncomfortably. “It’s not stupid, man. I just wish we knew of some actual father figure we could get to sub in for you, rather than resorting to Craigslist dads.”

“It’s not just for me, dude,” Dick insists. “I know you care about this shit, too.”

Logan cracks a smile despite himself. “If some guy with a beer gut shows up and grills me a hamburger and calls me ‘sport’, that’s not going to make the old man any less of an abusive asshole.”

“I know, but we can make some nicer memories can’t we? Some nice dad-memories?”

For a second, Logan allows himself to enter into the delusion, but almost immediately becomes sidetracked on the mental image of Gregory Peck from To Kill a Mockingbird standing in their backyard, holding a light beer and grinning affably. That would be one thing – but he can’t imagine that any fathers like that actually exist in the world. No, this dad was probably going to be more or less a deadbeat himself, or else how would he have time to babysit a bunch of profligate twenty-somethings? At best, it would be some old guy whose kids were too grown-up and busy to talk to him anymore, a dad whose desperate neediness for attention and affirmation matches Dick’s. But then again, Dick will inevitably be drunk for the entire party – he wouldn’t notice if the dad was an escaped convict in black and white stripes with a literal ball and chain on his ankle. What harm could it do? He sighs, asks in a wry tone, “Are you going to ask for proof of paternity, or is this person going to be a fake dad on top of being random?”

Dick lights up. “That’s a great idea, I’ll edit that in!” He resumes typing at a frenzied pace; Logan watches bemusedly.

Still. It’s one weird thing on one day. It won’t make any difference one way or another, in the long run.

Nobody’s life was ever changed because a stranger made them a hamburger.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

After that, Logan tries to extricate himself from the whole dad-audition process, but Dick is, as usual, both oblivious and incorrigible. Logan very quickly comes to dread the phrases “hey, listen to this” and “what about this”, since both are sure signs that he’s about to be read a joke resumé with phrases like “excels at offering positive reinforcement”, or shown a headshot of a guy in a sweater vest. So when he gets home from work and the first thing he hears is “Logan, dude, this is the one”, his first response is to groan and flop face first onto the sofa. They found the sofa at the side of the road the second week in the house and it is therefore a little worn out, so the decision to be dramatic hurts.

“Asshole,” Dick tells him absently, wandering in from the next room holding his laptop. “Listen: father for twenty-plus years, expert level jokes and manly affection, bonus secret-family-recipe hot sauce.”

“The hot sauce is a nice touch,” Logan admits, rolling over onto his back and kicking his feet up onto the sofa arm. “All of the other applicants have really fixated on the ‘dad’ part of ‘grill dad’.”

Dick nods so enthusedly it looks painful. “I know, right? And get this, there’s an attached letter from his kid,” he says. “Dear advertiser, I can confirm that the applicant has been my father for my entire life, and I can honestly say that he has excelled at the position. You would be lucky to have him at your party, where he would strike just the right balance between embarrassing and fun, call all of you by the wrong names and then substitute “son” or “honey”, and repeatedly tell you he’s proud of you. His hamburgers are to die for, and he brings his own fire extinguisher in case anything should go wrong. He has my unreserved recommendation. Also, if this is some kind of dad kidnapping scheme, I will hunt you down and kill you. Cordially, V. Mars.” Dick looks up expectantly; Logan fights a smile.

“They wrote a letter of recommendation for their dad?” ��

“Uh huh.”

“Hmm,” Logan says neutrally, then says, “Mr. Mars,” trying it out, hitting the ‘r’s and dragging out the ‘s’.

“Keith Mars,” Dick adds helpfully, and turns the computer so Logan can see the attached photo. Keith Mars is bald, just slightly on the portly side, staring adoringly down at the tiny pigtailed child with whom he is dancing, her feet on his – V. Mars is a girl, apparently. Dick tabs to the next picture: Keith Mars standing next to a grill holding a hot dog over the head of a plaintive-looking pitbull while a gap-toothed, elementary-school-aged V. Mars laughs in the background with a blue-haired friend. In the third picture Keith is older, wearing a suit and grinning widely, hugging someone in graduation regalia, her face obscured by her cap. “He looks cool, right?” Dick prompts eagerly.

“Yeah,” Logan says, tearing his eyes away from the graduation photo. Neither he nor Dick had had any relatives attend their college graduation, and he’d seen plenty of family reunions at the baccalaureate celebration that seemed more stiff and awkward than anything else, but Keith looks like he just might burst with pride. “Yeah, he seems nice.”

“Like a real dad, right?” Dick persists.

Logan snorts. “As if I have any experience with which to judge that quality.”

Dick offers a fist bump and Logan complies. “Trauma twins!” Dick says, sing-song. Logan rolls his eyes. “But he seems legit?” Dick says, returning to the salient point. “This is okay?”

Logan stands and claps his roommate on the shoulder. “Sure, man. If you say this is the one, I think you’re probably right.”

Dick beams at him. “I’ll tell him he got the gig!”

“Cool,” Logan says drily. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Since Dick thinks it would be acceptable to simply explain the dad-for-hire situation when their guests show up, Logan finds himself calling each invitee one by one the day before the party and beginning with the statement, “So you know how Dick has a tenuous relationship with reality?” Lilly laughs for a full minute and a half, and Duncan, no matter how many times Logan runs through the concept, just doesn’t seem to get it, but everyone else just thinks it’s sad.

“Oh my god, our lives suck,” Gia says, sounding as if she just realized it. “Does no one in our group have a functioning father figure?”

“Carrie’s dad was okay,” Logan offers. “But he moved out of state a few years back.”

“And he never knew how to grill!” Dick yells through his bedroom door.

“And he never knew how to grill,” Logan repeats.

“Yeah, well,” Gia says skeptically, “I’m bringing extra booze for when this weird-ass idea causes someone to have an emotional breakdown.”

“Appreciated.”

And when the day arrives, booze is the one thing they do seem to have enough of.

“Why did we say we were going to supply ingredients?” Logan wonders aloud as he methodically opens and shuts every cupboard in their kitchen. “You forgot to buy onions, we don’t own any spices, I don’t even think we have salt and pepper –”

“Logan. Man! Relax.” As anticipated, Dick is already halfway to trashed, and far from caring if their hamburgers are seasoned.

“This was your idea,” Logan says, accusing sliding into sardonic. “You’re the one who wanted to make some new dad-memories, and now because you were overly confident in a Craigslist ad, our new dad is already going to be disappointed in us.”

“Dude, holy shit –” Dick bursts out laughing and can’t continue his thought. Logan turns around to glare at him in exasperation. “What if –” Dick stammers, chortling, “what if he says the thing? ‘I’m not mad I’m just disappointed?’ How absolutely sick would that be?” He’s wheezing now, and Logan can’t think of anything to do except stare at him. “Just like a real dad!” Dick howls.

Logan stands, frozen, for a beat longer, and then abandons his search for the probably-nonexistent spice cabinet to reach for the scotch instead. “Gia was right,” he says flatly. “This is going to end in tears.” He pulls a little too sharply on the tab of the wax seal and it snaps off with the seal still in place. He looks at it in consternation, and it is at this point that the doorbell rings. Dick makes no sign of moving from his position, giggling slumped over the kitchen table, so Logan jogs to the front hallway, only to discover that Dick has placed all the beer they bought in front of the door, barricading it closed. He’s kicking six packs out of the way and trying to open the scotch bottle with his teeth when he finally manages to wrench open the door and is greeted by the genial but not-quite-non-threatening face of Keith Mars.

For a moment the desire to say something dismissive rises up, as if this was still high school and he was still incapable of engaging with an adult on mutually respectful terms, but Logan takes a deep breath and forces it down. “Mr. Mars,” he says.

Keith sticks out a hand. “Richard?”

Logan snorts, but accepts the handshake. “Richard is inside. I’m the roommate, Logan.”

Keith’s eyes drop to the scotch bottle still in Logan’s hand. “I hate it when that happens,” he says mildly.

Logan makes a non-committal noise. “We probably have a wine opener somewhere that should do the trick.”

“We don’t!” Dick yells from the kitchen. “I told the chicks to bring one!”

“That would be Richard,” Logan tells Keith wryly. Keith raises his eyebrows, but then reaches into his jacket pocket and offers Logan a multi-tool. “Thanks,” Logan says uncomfortably, looking down to flip through utensils instead of making eye contact. “Can I offer you anything?”

“Nope,” says Keith cheerfully, “just point me to the backyard and I’ll get the grill fired up.”

“Get the grill fired up!” Dick’s voice repeats, maniacally.

“He’s fine,” says Logan, unconvinced himself. “The backyard’s through this way.”

“No!” Dick stumbles into the hallway and spreads his arms wide, probably so as best to show off the tshirt he bought specifically for the occasion which reads “you’re all up in my grill”, a decided improvement over the grill-themed shirt Logan had to initially talk him down from, which had a meat-related innuendo on it. “I will show you to the backyard, sir!”

Keith offers a hand. “Keith Mars.”

“Awesome, dude.” Dick shakes his hand, which is apparently hilarious because he cracks himself up again. “Welcome to the party!”

Keith glances at Logan, who shrugs. “I’m just happy to be included,” Keith says, sounding, against all odds, like he means it.

“Dope,” Dick responds. “Follow me, mon capitan, I will show you to your grill kingdom!”

“Please stop mixing your metaphors,” Logan tells him, but Keith waves him off and allows Dick to sling an arm around his shoulder and lead him towards the screen door to the backyard.

“Dude, seriously, your application was whack,” Dick says. “I was like, whoa, this guy is like a serious dad!” Logan is watching them go, wondering if he’s responsible for making Keith feel safe and if he should therefore follow, when there’s a voice at shoulder-level behind him.

“So that’s the Craigslist guy?”

He turns, smoothly accepts the proffered casserole dish. “Craigslist dad, actually, or you’re missing the whole point.”

Carrie stands on her toes to look over his shoulder at where Keith is patiently observing Dick’s wild gesticulating at all the ingredients they bought. “Huh,” she says. “I guess he does kind of look like a dad.”

“I should hope so, we took the casting call very seriously.”

Carrie rolls her eyes. “That’s a fruit salad,” she informs him, indicating the dish he’s holding. “I’ve just gotta grab my guitar out of my car and then I can help set up or whatever.”

“You brought your guitar?” Logan repeats. “Are we gonna sit in a circle and sing campfire songs? What the hell kind of barbecue do you think this is?”

“A nice wholesome one, of course. You were kind enough to invite Susan and her kid, and you specifically got a random dad to come grill you food.” After a pause and seemingly despite herself, Carrie asks, “You really couldn’t have just bought a grill yourselves?”

Logan sighs. “Actually, the grill is ours. Keith had one but it wouldn’t fit in his car, so Dick went straight out and got the most expensive one there was.”

“Don’t all serious dads own pickup trucks?”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“And now you have your own grill.”

“We even managed to work it ourselves; we made marshmallows over it last night.”

Carrie makes a face. “I can’t believe you guys are living together. You’ll both starve to death or suffocate under dirty laundry within a month.”

“Nah,” says Logan, dismissive, “we can live on marshmallows for at least two months, and we can just buy new clothes and burn our dirty laundry on the grill.”

“That,” Carrie tells him calmly, “is disgusting.”

“People who bring acoustic guitars to house parties shouldn’t throw stones,” Logan counters.

She laughs and flips him off. “When’s everyone else getting here?”

He indicates careless ignorance with a wave of the hand. “Hopefully soon. I think we need to set up a watch rotation to make sure Dick doesn’t start crying on the grill dad.”

Carrie snorts, tosses him her keys; he manages to switch the fruit salad to one hand and snag them in the hand holding the scotch. “In that case, you go grab my guitar out of the trunk. What did you say the guy’s name is?”

“Keith Mars.”

“Got it. Do not leave me out there by myself for more than a minute.”

“Of course not! In fact, I wouldn’t dream of getting in your car and driving far, far away from here.”

She elbows past him, laughing, and jogs through the house to make a dramatic exit out the back door, where she is greeted by Dick’s incoherent shouts. Logan sighs, then picks his way back through the six-packs to the kitchen to put everything down, finally open the scotch, and knock back half a drink. When he gets back out to the driveway Casey Gant is there with his newest arm-candy girlfriend, and Logan finds himself cajoled into giving a house tour so he can explain to her why he and Dick decided on this house, how all the guests know each other, and that, no, Casey wasn’t lying about the Craigslist situation. By the time Logan manages to extricate himself, everyone has arrived and is milling around the backyard. Carrie waves to him from a picnic blanket in the middle of the lawn, where she is in fact playing guitar for Susan and her adolescent daughter. He likes Susan and the kid fine, but the three of them seem to be working on a warble-y song from the latest Disney princess sensation, so he hides a grimace, waves back, and looks elsewhere. There’s a few people clustered around the grill, listening to Keith tell some story which is apparently fascinating; Logan gives them a wide berth and joins Lilly and Gia instead, who are standing off to the side eyeing the whole scene skeptically.

“Don’t you ladies want to take advantage of this unique opportunity to interact with a genuine, human parent?” he asks.

“Nope,” says Gia, at the same time as Lilly says “Not even a little.”

Logan snorts. “Well, cheers to that, I suppose.”

“Yes, cheers!” Lilly says. “To dealing with our issues in therapy, rather than projecting all of our buried hopes onto a stranger with a novelty apron who could never live up to our ideals anyway.”

“Like motherfucking adults,” Logan echoes solemnly. They clink glasses.

Gia looks contemplative. “It’s not so much that he’s a random stranger,” she says. “I even kind of trust that he’s for real, you know?”

“I know,” Lilly retorts, pausing to take a big gulp of her drink. “That’s the worst part. Dick introduced me to him when I got here, and he was immediately more interested in my life and my job than my parents have ever been.”

“Yeah, but like, actually interested,” Gia adds, “like he thought I was worth his time and couldn’t wait to hear more about me.”

“How dare he,” Logan says mildly.

Gia elbows him in the ribs. “I don’t see you over there talking to him.”

Logan shrugs. “If I met him on the street maybe I’d be able to trust that he’s the real deal, but the fact that he answered the ad just seems fundamentally suspicious.”

“Yeah, but you guys aren’t paying him, are you?” says Lilly.

“Just in beer.”

“He’s probably just lonely,” Gia suggests.

“I thought the same thing,” says Logan. “But if he’s such a good father, then wouldn’t his own kid want to see him? So why would he need us?”

Lilly pats him on the shoulder. “Logan, you’ve honed your trust issues and pessimism into quite an art.”

He huffs, irritable despite himself. “I’m just saying, don’t anyone go writing him into their will just yet.” Gia looks at him little worriedly, and he attempts a reassuring smile. “I need another drink, can I get either of you anything?” They both wave him off, and he makes for the deck where all the refreshments are, but in his haste to get away, forgets to avoid the grill group and accidentally makes eye contact with Dick. Dick, of course, begins frantically waving him over, and though Logan lifts a hand in acknowledgement and tries to stay course, this only means that Dick starts yelling his name. Logan silently swears to himself that he will not enter the fatherland without a drink in hand, so yells back that he’ll be right there and prays that they’ll be out of something on the drinks and appetizers table so he’ll have to go inside to get it, if not drive to the store. Tragically, Carrie is already there, refilling chip bowls, and when he offers to help she just gives him an unsympathetic look.

“Go get it over with, before Dick convinces everyone to start chanting your name,” she says.

Logan sighs, grabs the beer with the highest alcohol content he can find, and skips down the stairs. “Logan!’ Dick crows. “Logan’s here, guys!”

“I live here,” Logan reminds him. The obvious statement is greeted by polite laughs from the Keith fan-club and drunken giggling from Dick.

“Get this, Logan!” he says, childlike excitement radiating off him in waves. “We didn’t even need salt and pepper, Keith brought his own burger rub!”

Logan looks obligingly at Keith, who nods. “Secret family recipe.”

“I thought the secret was the hot sauce?” Logan says.

“I’ve got that, too.”

Logan raises his eyebrows. “Everything’s a secret with you, Mr. Mars. And here I thought we were just on the verge of opening up to each other.”

Keith laughs good-naturedly. “I’m an open book, Logan.”

Logan is mentally scrolling through options for sarcastic replies which aren’t overly combative when suddenly he feels very, uncomfortably cold, from the back of his neck down, and can do nothing but gasp stupidly. For a moment he thinks Dick has poured ice down his back, but Dick is standing on the other side of the grill from him, looking genuinely surprised albeit delighted. Logan cranes his neck and turns in a circle, but can’t see what’s been spilled on him, though it’s entirely clear who’s to blame. “Duncan,” Logan says, flat and edging toward a growl.

Duncan has the nerve to roll his eyes. “Come on, man, it’s not my fault.”

Logan gestures to where Duncan has clearly dropped his solo cup and half a plate of appetizers on the lawn. “And how do you figure that?”

Duncan shrugs. “You know how hard it is to hold a drink and a plate of stuff at the same time.”

“Hmm, then maybe you should go inside and eat at the table – or better yet, maybe the family down the block can loan us their high chair.”

Duncan scowls at him. “Do you have to be like this, Logan, seriously? It’s just a shirt. And it’s your freaking house, you can just go in and change.”

Logan flicks his eyes over at Keith, who thankfully doesn’t appear inclined to use his fake fatherly authority to intervene and is pretending to look intently at something across the way. Logan fakes a laugh and says as evenly as he can manage, “And it was your freaking drink, so you could have just apologized.” Keith abandons his examination of the next-door-neighbor’s maple tree to give Logan a side-eyed smile, and for a moment, Logan feels a vague sense of satisfaction, before he remembers that he doesn’t care about Keith’s approval. He makes a wry face back.

“Logan,” Keith says mildly, “keep an eye on the grill? I need to grab something I left in the kitchen.”

“No problem, Mr. Mars,” Logan answers, saluting sloppily. Keith nods at him, and then pats Duncan on the shoulder as he passes; Logan interprets the move as condescending and is pleased again, and again annoyed at himself for being pleased. As a pathetic attempt at distracting himself, he pulls his arms into what was previously his favorite gray v-neck and puts it back on backwards so he can look at the stain, and then is horrified all over again. “Duncan, what the fuck were you drinking?” he demands.

Now, finally, Duncan has the grace to look ashamed, or at least defensive. “Mike’s,” he mutters.

“Mike’s lemonade is not this color.”

“It was Mike’s hard black cherry lemonade, alright!”

There are various titters from the group; Logan snorts inadvertently and lifts up the shirt to sniff the purple-y stain, which smells more like sugar than anything else. He knows he should stop pushing, but can’t quite restrain a “Dude, really?”, which turns the titters into full-fledged barks of laughter.

Duncan snaps. “Why do you have to be such a –”

“Donut!”

Duncan freezes at the sound of Lilly’s voice.

“Quit being a drip!” she yells. “Or go home!”

For a second, Duncan turns his glare back on Logan with full force, and Logan almost thinks he’s going to spit in his face or something, but then he just kicks at his dropped solo cup and slinks off toward the front yard.

“Wo-o-ow,” says Dick, with barely contained glee. “This really is the best party ever.”

Logan rolls his eyes, grabs the spatula hanging off the grill, and starts idly pushing burgers around to have something to do. “You’re happy with your Craigslist investment?” he asks Dick.

“Absolutely, dude!”

“And the weirdness of the concept still hasn’t dawned on you?” Casey adds, snickering.

“How could it be weird? Keith is awesome, and he’s the perfect addition to the party, just like the application said.”

“Of course he is.”

Logan jumps, almost drops a burger on the ground, and then turns to find that Duncan’s place in the circle has been filled. She’s on the shorter side, with blonde hair falling down her back in waves, a leather jacket slung over one shoulder, and a completely unreadable expression on her face – and based on the looks she’s getting from the others, no one else has the faintest idea who she is either. “Uh –” Logan says.

“Keith Mars is still here, right?” she asks, voice somewhere between businesslike and belligerent.

“Well –”

“He just went inside,” Dick says, helpfully. “He’ll be back out in a minute.”

Logan groans. “Dick, remind me never to commit any crimes you’d have to be interrogated about.”

Dick shrugs, the whole movement exaggerated by drunkenness. “Look at her, man, what’s she gonna do?”

Logan looks at her, less sure that he should be unintimidated than Dick seems to be; she gives him an unimpressed once-over, but then cracks a smile seemingly despite herself. “So was it some combination of getting dressed in the dark and a wet tshirt competition, or is this a bold fashion choice?”

Logan glances down at his backwards v-neck and the damp, purple circle on his chest. “Bold fashion choice,” he answers, looking up to raise his eyebrows at her.

“I wouldn’t have been able to picture it,” she says, looking him up and down again, “but now that I see it, I guess it works. In fact, you should only wear this. Like, ever.”

Logan grins awkwardly, unsure whether she’s mocking him or flirting with him, and still unsure what he, as a homeowner, is supposed to do about strangers in his backyard, even if they are exceptionally cute.

“So, this is weird,” Dick offers.

“Hey, honey!” Logan turns; Keith is coming down the steps of the deck with burger buns and cheese in hand, beaming at the interloper.

“And it just got weirder,” Casey announces.

“Yup,” echoes his date. “More drinks?”

“You bet.” They wander off arm in arm; Casey salutes Logan with his beer can.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” Keith says, dumping his armful of food onto the picnic table so he can hug the blonde girl.

She shrugs, looking considerably more relaxed now that he’s appeared. “I’m an only child, dad, you didn’t honestly expect me to let you adopt a whole party without at least coming over to check up on you. I’ve never had to share before.”

Keith laughs. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that. Why wouldn’t my grown adult daughter show up at an honest Craigslist gig to make sure she wasn’t losing her spot as my favorite child?”

“I dunno,” Dick says suspiciously, “I think she might also be here to flirt with Logan.”

“You two have met?” Keith turns a surprised look on Logan, who does his best innocent blink and tries not to broadcast that a few seconds ago he was considering using Duncan’s spill as an excuse to take his shirt off in front of this girl.

“Only just now,” Keith’s daughter assures him.

Logan nods. “You’re V. Mars?”

“Veronica,” she answers. She offers her hand to shake.

“Don’t take this personally,” Logan says, “but I wouldn’t. I’m honestly kind of covered in Mike’s hard black cherry lemonade.”

“That exists?” she says.

“There’s no limit to the abominations which crawl this earth,” he replies, straight-faced. She laughs.

“See what I mean,” Dick says to Keith. Keith looks at him blankly; Dick belches, shoots Logan a complicated and incomprehensible hand gesture, and wanders off after Casey, leaving Logan alone with the two Marses. He looks back and forth between them, trying not to stare, and wondering if it would be weird to ask what kind of degree Veronica just graduated with based on the picture Keith sent.

“So!” Veronica says, into the strained silence. “You’ve been treating my dad well?”

“He’s getting all of the standard grill-dad benefits,” Logan answers. “We didn’t want to have the agency all over us, or god forbid, the unions.”

Veronica smiles in acknowledgment, but her eyes flick to her dad with something like nervousness.

“Do you two need a minute?” Logan offers.

“No!” says Keith, confidently calm. “Everything’s all fine, here. Son, can you start putting cheese on hamburger buns? Veronica, honey, help him?”

Veronica rolls her eyes, but bumps Logan out of the way with her hip so she can grab the cheese. “So, daaad,” she says, sing-song.

“Veronica,” he says, warningly.

She actually pouts. “Come on, dad,” she says, the words coming quicker now. “It’s pretty clear Logan doesn’t care about you being his fake father for the day; his entire body flinched when you called him son.”

Logan hands her a hamburger bun he removed from the block of them in the bag, says mildly, “I thought I managed to reserve my flinch to only seventy percent of my body.”

“Nope!” Veronica gives him an apologetic smile, and then turns back to Keith. “Dad, please.”

Keith glances at Logan, back at her, and sighs. “Make it quick, Veronica.”

She drops the package of cheese and reaches into her bag to retrieve a giant camera. “So-o-o,” she says, lowering her voice, “you know that guy I’ve been on all week for a completely unrelated…work thing?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Yes.”

“Well, he just walked through the front door of your guy’s house.”

“No, he didn’t,” Keith says drily. She tabs through a few photos on the display, shows him one. Keith looks at her. “That can’t be good.”

She lets out a huff of breath. “No, I didn’t think so either.”

“I can see both exits from here, honey, and I haven’t turned my back once.”

“From here?” Logan repeats.

They ignore him. “If I didn’t notice him going in, it was because I wasn’t looking for people entering,” Keith continues, reassuringly. “Nobody could have gotten away, so they must all just be inside. We’ll wait it out, it’ll be fine.”

Logan is just about to give up and leave them to it so he can find another drink, and maybe even change his shirt, but that, of course, is when the air is filled with the sound of breaking glass.

Some kind of instinct takes over and he dives in between the sound and Veronica, dragging her to the ground with him despite her incoherent noise of protest. He looks up in time to see a flailing person hit the ground below the next-door-neighbor’s maple tree, surrounded by the debris from the shattered second-story window.

“That’s yours!” Veronica gasps, but Keith has already produced a gun from somewhere under his novelty apron and is pointing it at where the fallen man has gotten unsteadily to his feet.

“Police!” Keith shouts. “Don’t move!”

There’s a stunned pause, Logan takes in the faces of gaping astonishment on his friends, and then the man takes off running in the opposite direction. Keith lets out a brief curse and rips off his apron. “He’s running,” he announces to thin air, and Logan hears a siren start up down the street, so apparently he really is police. Keith throws the apron at Veronica. “Don’t let the hamburgers burn,” he orders, and then he climbs on the picnic table, vaults clumsily over the neighbor’s fence, and takes off after the runner.

“You’re going to strain your back,” Veronica yells after him, almost petulant. She elbows Logan in the ribs and he rolls off her, not sure whether she’s about to join in the chase herself or whether she’s just going to lay into him for tackling her. She gets up, checks her camera and is apparently convinced that its not broken, but still looks dissatisfied about something. She peeks into the grill, lifts a single burger with the forgotten spatula. “They’re not going to burn,” she says, disdainfully.

“Dude.” Dick jogs over so he can give Logan a hand up off the ground. “Dude,” Dick repeats, “is it just me or was our grill-dad packing heat?”

Logan pats his arm. “Not only was he packing heat, but he was almost definitely using us to surveille the house next door.”

Dick looks flabbergasted. “Shit, man. Even my fake dad didn’t really want to spend time with me.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back, once they’ve collared the guy,” Veronica offers. As if inspired, she removes the first burger patty from the grill, puts it on one of their prepared buns, and hands it to him.

Dick looks at it suspiciously, takes a bite, and then nods, but adds accusingly, “Whatever, man. I’m going to need therapy from this.” He shoots a finger gun at Logan. “So, you do whatever you’re doing here, I’m gonna go apologize to Susan for exposing her child to all this violence.”

“That’s really mature and responsible of you, Dick,” Logan says, surprised.

“Duh,” says Dick. “It’s up to us to break the cycle.” And with that, he heads back towards the rest of the party, who are all staring at Veronica with no small amount of apprehension. She doesn’t seem to notice, but absently picks up Keith’s apron and puts it on, and starts assembling burgers.

Logan can’t help but ask, “You’re not going to follow them?”

“Nope,” she says, shortly, “not my case.”

“Do you need to go after…your guy?”

“No, I’ve got the pictures I needed.”

“Then I’m sure Keith would appreciate the backup…?”

She lets out a short laugh, and Logan sees with dawning comprehension that she’s worried. “He needs it,” she answers, “but he wouldn’t appreciate it. I don’t have the clearance.”

“You’re not his partner?”

She turns to look at him like he’s an idiot. “No-o-o,” she says. “I’m his daughter.”

Logan grins, lifts his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure how deep the undercover scheme went.” She snorts, flips her hair over her shoulder, and turns back to the grill. “That one on the right is getting a little overdone,” he says, pointing.

“No it’s not.” She swats his hand away, and then moves the offending burger closer to the coals, Logan suspects just to be contrary.

“So you’re not a cop?” he tries again. She shoots him an exasperated glance over her shoulder, he grins, says, “If you’re not a cop, why were you surveilling the house too?”

She huffs a sigh, puts the spatula down with a clatter, and reaches for her bag where it had fallen on the ground. “Here,” she says, and tosses something at him. He catches it, turns it around, opens it.

“You’re a private detective?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Not a cop?”

“I’m going to throw a hamburger at you.”

Logan laughs. “So, what, you didn’t want to follow in your father’s footsteps?”

“I did, he didn’t,” Veronica says casually, returning her focus to the grill. “He wanted me to aim higher. I got accepted to Quantico, and was sent home after three weeks because of my issue with authority.” She shrugs, spins the spatula like a baton. “Turns out, I’m more suited for private eye work than I am for either the feds or the boys in blue anyway.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

Logan shrugs, thinking that she was already exceptionally cute, but she just became the most fascinating person on the planet. “I don’t know.”

She removes the last burger from the grill and spins to look at him, hands on her hips. He feels a goofy grin spreading over his face, and she rolls her eyes at him. “What, Logan?”

“You should only wear this.”

She looks down at Keith’s apron, which reads in big, bold letters, “NEVER TRUST A SKINNY CHEF”. She snorts. “If you haven’t figured out yet that you shouldn’t trust me, no amount of written reminders are going to do the trick.”

Logan ducks his head, rubs the back of his neck. “So I’m trusting, sue me.”

“Ah!” She taps her chin with one finger, mock-contemplative. “Is that how you ended up advertising for a strange dad to on-site cater your barbecue?”

“That wasn’t my idea.” Veronica raises her eyebrows, Logan adds, “I actually feel a lot better about your dad now.”

“You feel a lot better about him now that you know he deceived you?”

“Well, yeah,” Logan admits. “He seemed way too normal to be the kind of person who responds to Craigslist ads, so there definitely had to be a catch.” She raises her eyebrows at him, he adds lamely, “So it’s nice that the catch was he’s mainly here to catch bad guys.”

As if on cue, Veronica’s cell phone buzzes; she picks up on the first ring. “Dad?” The worry smooths away from her face at his response, and she mouths a quick apology to Logan before retreating into the corner of the yard to debrief. The last thing he hears her say is “I can’t believe you jumped over that fence, are you trying to kill me?”

Logan walks over to where Dick and Gia are relating the main event to Duncan, who has reemerged and is trying very hard to appear as if he doesn’t regret missing out. “Then Keith magically pulled a gun out of nowhere,” Dick says, miming in slow motion, “and yelled get on the ground or I’ll shoot!”

“He didn’t exactly yell that,” Gia puts in. “I’m pretty sure he basically just said ‘police’.”

Dick ignores her, too invested in the story. “But the guy just books it, and so Keith literally vaulted over the fence and chased after him, yelling and firing at him –”

“No,” Gia says.

Duncan rolls his eyes. “This is what you get for inviting strangers into your home,” he says derisively.

“Trained professionals to arrest the criminal who apparently lived next door to us anyway?” Logan pipes up.

“Professional or not,” Gia says, upbeat, “as soon as shit started to go down, Logan shielded the cop’s daughter with his body, which was pretty cool.”

“Aww,” says Lilly, coming up to put an arm around her brother’s shoulders. “And you were out in the car, sulking because everyone laughed at your drink choice!”

Reminded, Logan glances down at his shirt, which he’d mostly forgotten in all the excitement; it is now starting to stick to his skin uncomfortably. What the hell, Keith won’t be back for twenty minutes at least; he can definitely get some mileage out of this. He takes the shirt off. The girls wolf-whistle, Duncan groans.

“You know,” Lilly suggests slyly, “there are definitely easier ways than Craigslist to incorporate a new father figure into your life.”

“What?” says Dick, immediately intrigued. “Is there a more specific service?”

“Is there?” Logan repeats, alarmed.

Lilly starts laughing. “You’re both idiots,” Duncan tells them, with significantly more affection now that his knowing something they don’t has reestablished him in a position of authority.

Gia appears to be about ready to take pity on them, but is interrupted by Veronica’s return. “They got the guy,” she announces. “Dad is driving him to the station. Logan, he says he’s leaving you in charge until he gets back, not Richard.”

Dick flips her off; Logan replies, “I’m touched that he’s ceding authority to me in my own home.”

Veronica performs an elaborate double take, gestures at the house. “This is yours?”

“As far as the eye can see, or at least until where I imagine the police tape will be going up.”

“It’s my house, too,” Dick puts in.

Veronica ignores him. “I took you for an out-of-towner,” she tells Logan.

The fact that she thought of this means she’s not uninterested in the possibility of seeing him again. “Nope, local boy, though and through.”

Veronica eyes him thoughtfully. “And why are you half naked?”

He realizes he doesn’t actually have a good reason. “I was really starting to smell?”

She pretends to consider this. “I guess I’ll take it,” she finally says. Lilly starts cackling.

Logan tries not to preen. “Veronica, this is everybody; everybody, Veronica.” Veronica waves awkwardly.

“Are you going to stick around until your dad gets back?” Gia asks, faux-innocent.

Veronica looks sidelong at Logan. “Stay,” he says, hearing it come out somehow as if he were laying his heart on the line. He adds, more casually, “You can scold him for his fence-jumping.”

She considers him. “Do you have anything other than Mike’s hard black cherry lemonade?”

He cracks a smile. “I think I can scare something up.”

“The good stuff is all inside,” Lilly lies, straight-faced, then elbows Duncan, who says with faux-enthusiasm, “Oh yeah, and while you’re in there, maybe Logan could put a shirt on.”

“Like, if one jumps out at him,” Gia puts in. “Not every color works on Logan.”

“Yeah,” says Lilly. “He went through a whole orange phase. It was bad.”

Veronica looks bewilderedly around the circle, then back up at Logan. “I guess I could stay awhile,” she says, a smile pulling at her mouth.

“Don’t forget to grab hamburgers before you go in,” Dick says, serious. “That’s literally the whole point.”

“Right,” says Logan, not taking his eyes off Veronica. “Thank goodness for those hamburgers.”

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Yahoo answers post from user MeCasablancasIsTooCasablancas:

So a few years ago I met this really cool dad, super great, very wise, lot to offer as a father figure. I put a lot of effort into getting to know him and he’s always been totally chill. My roommate, on the other hand, barely wanted to talk to the dad, from day one. Only problem is, now that’s changed and we’re in competition, and I was wondering, how do I make sure that my prior claim to the dad is respected? My roommate didn’t even want a dad, but now just because he’s marrying the guy’s daughter everyone’s telling me father-in-law trumps the fact that I clearly called dibs? This can’t be right.

Also, the wedding is in two months, and even though there’s no way they go through with it, just in case please go to Craigslist and look for my post seeking a new roommate. If it helps, we have a grill.

#LV AU week #veronica mars #cate fic #vm #this fic brought to you by general insanity and my conveniently timed spring break #aaaaaaaand that's it for now folks!!#I promise I am working on the teachers AU #it's just very difficult to write a teacher AU #without including lots of stuff about students #which takes up space and time

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