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#it's too much for bert to handle
microwavepopcorn · 10 months
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teufelme · 8 months
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You ever just want to talk about Bertl,
#i  .   ooc  .#The tags got so long just warning U now!#OK I know his appearance wasn't the longest but like. I'll never stop talking about him because he doesn't get enough credit? rip.#I know it's not really relevant any more because post-timeskip everyone is a lot better but. Referring to everyone's skill as of pre.#Reiner said Bertolt was the strongest of all of the shifters but he held himself back. He came 3rd without giving his all. Or really trying#I hc he held himself back to try not to let too much of his strength show bc people forget he had military training b4 joining the 104th.#And ofc. Also to not bring too much attention to himself bc of who he really is???#The way he mastered his Titan straight away and also has such a good handle on it.#Out of the 3 shifters he was the one that stayed true to the mission. Despite his reluctance he's got the strength and commitment.#People are so quick to say he relies on Reiner too much. And while he does at times. Reiner relies on him just as much if not more. Even if#Reiner doesn't realise it. Bertolt keeps him on track and has no one supporting him at all.#In COTT arc... U see him dodge Mikasa who is an Ackerman and seen as one of the strongest characters in the series...#And the same in RTS. Everyone gets too distracted by Mikasa to actually pay attention to how he dodges her 4 times?? Even tho she attacks#from behind? And the way he lands a hit on her. I just *screams*. I love how many times she tries to kill him. lol#How effective he is when he abandons his guilt and this is sort of irrelevant but. It's so special to me because as someone who is#a quiet person irl round people I don't know well. Who has it brought up a lot. I just adore when a character that remains in the#background just comes out and says enough is so hhhhh I know his reasons aren't good BUT RTS BERT... AH.#Also gotta talk about his marksmanship skills in a thread at some point?? Maybe Mp bert I J UST..#Anyway I might do a cheeky revamp of graphics n icons and that. Dunno yet. Need to actually write that'd be good lol.#This account is a lovebot didn't U know.
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rougepancake · 1 year
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Like Real People Do
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Ft. Bertholdt Hoover x F!Scout!Reader
Master list Song
Warnings: Angsty fluff. I wrote this with a lot of emotion lol.
Summary: You have asked nothing of the other but to be understood. Both of you have yet to elaborate why, but it’s clear that it’s all you’ll ever need from the other.
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The beautiful night sky surrounded you, wrapping its arms around you and encasing you in its warmth. The moon was high overhead, reflecting off of the pond that rested at your feet. Overall, it was a beautiful sight, the stars twinkling and the crickets chirping as your comrades slept peacefully back at the camp.
You sat down and admired the moon, your knees pressed to your chest, chin resting upon them. You were so lost in your observation of the night that you hadn’t noticed the person beside you until they spoke.
“It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” The soft voice pulled you from your thoughts, no richly startling you. He met your surprised stare with an empathetic smile.
“It is indeed.” You nodded, the moon’s reflection allowing you to see the face of your comrade, even though you knew who it was.
In the short time that you had known each other, you had grown quite close. You were always seen joking around or just talking with one another. It was comforting to have someone so similar to you, both fighting for a cause that the other didn’t know about. You wanted to tell him why you had joined the scouts, and you could tell that he wanted to tell you too, but some things are just better left unsaid. You both understood that, and took comfort in knowing that the other was sworn to secrecy for the safety of others.
“Y/n… you should be resting… we have to get up early tomorrow.” Bertholdt placed a gentle hand onto your shoulder, softly caressing it. You leaned into his touch with a slight frown, closing your eyes as you felt his warmth.
“I could say the same thing to you Bert.” You sighed. He was just too good to be true, his kindness unlike any other. “Actually…” You trailed off, your lip beginning to quiver slightly. “N-No, never mind…”
“Ah. It’s one of those nights, hm?” Bertholdt frowned slightly, his arm reaching out to pull you closer to him as you fought back tears. You nodded into the side of his chest, silent sobs escaping you along with soft apologies.
“I don’t k-know how much longer I c-can take this…” You blubbered, wrapping your arms around his torso as he listened intently. “I-I’m scared…”
His eyes widened at the sound of your confession, shaking slightly as he processed your words. They had caught him off guard entirely, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.
‘I’m scared.’
Scared was too simple of a word to describe how he felt. He had lived his entire life in fear, not once knowing the feeling of being at peace until he had met you. Even Reiner had said there was something different about you when you had first met them, noting that you seemed to be compensating for something too.
Everyone had a reason for joining the scouts, and yours just happened to be more personal than most.
Bertholdt held you tightly, squeezing his eyes shut as a tear fell down his cheek. He didn’t want to cry, not now, and not ever. He had so many regrets, so many feelings that he kept buried deep within him, and seeing you in such a state only added to his woes.
“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice cracking as you held back more tears. Your watery eyes met his, and you let out a sad chuckle at the sight. Bertholdt returned the gesture, his hand coming up to cup your cheek softly.
He was so gentle, treating you as if you were the most precious thing on Earth. No one had ever handled you in such a way, so the feeling felt was new, foreign. He leaned in slowly, bringing your chin up so his lips could meet yours.
Tears streamed down your face as you leaned into his kiss, intense feelings of both guilt and love swelling in your chest.
It was a simple gesture. A gesture that seemed to last forever, and one that you wished would.
The world should have slowed around you in that moment, it should have stopped entirely. You needed him to hold you until your heart stopped beating, his arms wrapped tightly around you until you took your last breath.
You loved him, but you didn’t quite understand what love was, so you were unable to voice your feelings. Instead, all you were able to do was kiss his cheek with hopes that he was some kind of mind reader.
Bertholdt leaned into you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his cheek slowly. It made your heart swell, nearly bursting when he kissed you again and again and again.
He just kept on kissing you, trying to convey his own feelings without having to go through the trouble of putting them into words.
“B-Bert…” You smiled, eyes watering once again. You had no idea how to describe the overwhelming feelings of love and loneliness that swirled in your stomach, so you just sat in silence, staring into his beautiful eyes.
Everything about this moment was beautiful, the scenery, the actions, even the mood. It all seemed too good to be true, and it hurt you. What if this was all a dream? What if you awoke in the barracks with no one but your fellow female comrades surrounding you?
“I-I…” Your voice trailed off, clearly unsure of how to describe it to him.
“I love you too Y/n.”
Your eyes widened in shock, jaw dropping slightly as your face heated up. You hung your head, staring at the grass as if you were stunned into pure silence.
“So that’s what this feeling is…” You mumbled, Bertholdt’s chuckle pulling you back to reality.
“I love you.” He repeated, pulling you close to his body, long arms holding you tightly. “And I’ll never stop loving you. Ever. I’d give everything if it meant that we could be together forever.” He rubbed your back softly, head resting in the crook of your neck.
You wanted to speak, but you couldn’t, with your words failing you entirely. You wanted to say so many things to him, but you simply weren’t allowed to, and it hurt you to know that you couldn’t tell him everything.
“I…” You trailed off, biting your lip as you held him close. “Thank you…” You smile, not being able to say anything else, but still getting your point across.
You loved him, and he loved you. Even if it wasn’t ideal given your circumstances, it was love regardless, and it made you feel real. It gave you a reason to continue fighting, a reason to continue to keep getting up every morning.
Slowly, you kissed him again, holding his body close to yours underneath the moonlight. Maybe in another life, you’d be able to love him without the traumas of war and such. It was a far fetched idea, but you could still hope.
He pulled away from the kiss and rested his head on top of yours, staring into the night sky with a soft smile.
Maybe, just maybe, you’d get the chance to love each other like real people do.
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fromriches-tosin · 10 months
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talking about crushes like Reiner’s on Bert, i want to ask. do you think Jean and Eren ever had crushes in each other, at least for a little? i remember in on of your fics Jean made Reiner jealous by bringing up Eren, so maybe Reiner did feel as if those two could have become something
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Erejean is my second favorite pairing in AOT. They haven't really been a thing in any of my fics as of yet, but yes, Jean uses Eren to rile Reiner up in MBE.
Reiner almost buys it then because Jean is having an enemies to lovers moment with him, too. Reiner knows that the line between love and hate is thin, and since Jean crosses it for him, he might have crossed it for Eren in the past as well, right?
He probably remembers that Jean and Eren liked to sleep close to each other when they were kids, and that once they had teamed up, there was no stopping them. Eren and Jean make quite an intimidating duo (mostly because their screaming combined is too much for anyone to handle).
The way I see them – yes, they had an unwanted crush on each other, but neither of them acknowledged it even when the others were teasing them about it. Jean had that awkward "fuck, he's cool" moment at one point or another (with Sasha commenting on his "roundabout ways of showing love" in the background again). And Eren was probably like "damn, he's kind of cute when pissed off" while kicking him under the table.
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bearsinpotatosacks · 3 months
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The Practically Perfect and Those Trying Too Hard - A Mary Poppins Fic
Bert's fallen ill in the cold winter months, Mary's there to take care of him.
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Enough people had walked on the pavements that the snow had melted around them, only clumps of it sat on the roads and in piles in people’s gardens. Despite it only being early afternoon, nighttime was around them. The stars couldn’t peak through the thick layer of smog that was slowly encasing them the closer they got to Bert’s lodgings. She knew he wouldn’t say it but she could see in the way he held his head that he was embarrassed. 
The houses got more shambled, the roads fuller, more crowded and dirty. Her clothes began to stand out among the crowds of people swaying from pub to pub. Children, half covered in dirt, were looking at her clothes in awe. They didn’t have any shoes on. 
As the wind blew in again, it made her cheeks go a natural rosy red, her nose tinted pink as she nestled her face into her scarf a little more. She looked over at Bert, deep in conversation about something that happened to someone that his friend knew from someone else, or another topic equally as complicated, and realised his face had gone past red to pale as he walked along. Even with a few more layers, two shirts, a worn wool waistcoat and the same faded jacket he’d worn for years. His neckerchief was wrapped around his neck to provide a meager bit of warmth but it was nothing like the scarf or shawl she was shroud in. 
“Are you sure you don’t want my shawl, Bert?” She said, interrupting him. “Don’t be proud now.”
He smiled, the same wide grin he always did but with teeth chattering. “Really, Mary, I’m fine, keep it for yerself.”
He stopped for a second and made sure it was securely tightened around her. Even through her leather gloves she could feel how icy his hands were. 
“You’re practically a snowman, Bert, please.”
He shook his head, still smiling at her. “Mary, believe me, I’ll be alright.”
The last words came out in a cough as he slid a little on the wet pathway. Her hands steddied him as let out a chuckle. She removed one glove and placed her hand on his forehead, shining under the light of a streetlamp, she had to remove it quickly from the fever that was burning. 
“Bert, your temperature’s through the roof, we need to get you inside in the warm.”
His hands gripped her’s back. There was a flash of something, concern, in his smile when she said that. 
“But the sooner I go home, the sooner you’ll have to go!” 
Sometimes she could see the hopeful child she’d met all those years ago. The one that didn’t want to leave but had to. 
“And where will I be going? If you’re so certain that this place is in need of me.”
“Well, it’s gotta be yer day off, so you’ll be going soon.”
“How do you know this?”
He didn’t have an answer for that. 
“I’ll have you know that I am under no one’s employment at the current time, so my time is my own to spend,” she crossed her arms. 
He tucked his hands under his armpits as he smiled to himself. “Well, I am honoured that you’d spend it with me, but I swear to you-”
“Don’t swear to things Bert-”
“That I will be perfectly alright.”
She huffed. “Then why do you look sicker than a dog?”
“I do not.”
“You most definitely do.”
He let out another cough and took a deep breath in. “I do not.” He said, then raised his hand. “And I am definitely not seeing two of you.”
Alarms went off inside of her as he began to sway. He wasn’t that much taller than her but having someone collapsing on you would be hard to handle, no matter the size. 
“And if I was, which I am not, that would be wonderful, because the only thing more wonderful than one Mary Poppins-”
He swayed more, like a tree in the wind. His eyes began to close as his legs gave way. 
“Is two.”
His legs buckled as he fell forward onto her. It was lucky that she wasn’t frail, although she looked it, so she was able to carry him toward the dark and dreary building that his lodgings were in. They were far from the grand abodes she worked in, in fact, it was barely holding together with the mismatched bricks and rotten wood. Although, it was a roof over his head at least, which was a difference from where he’d been staying a few years ago, which was a bench in Hyde Park. 
Yet, the fact that he was living in run down tennements, with stairs that could barely hold one person, let alone one person carrying another was not a promising idea. Well, it wouldn’t be for most people, but most people were not Mary Poppins. So if she used a little bit of magic to help them get there, Bert was a lot lighter this way, then it was no one’s business.
— — — —
A comforting glow was behind his eyelids as he came to. As he opened his eyes, a wave of warmth flooded through him. No longer was he on the cold streets of London, he was in his own home. But this felt different than usual. 
Firstly, the fire was lit. It wasn’t that it was unlit most of the time, only that if he wasn’t cooking, he didn’t tend to light it. Sometimes being a jack of all trades didn’t pay the best. If people didn’t have the cash, the first cut was the one man band on the street. He’d found himself in the world of ashes and smoke a lot more recently, fires were being lit more during the harsh days of winter and where there were fireplaces, there were chimney sweeps.
Usually he sat by the embers for a while before wrapping himself in all the layers he owned to fall asleep. He got up before the sunrise, like rooster ready to crow, and made his way to work watching the sun scater colours all over the sky as the knocker-uppers woke up the office workers from their deep sleep. 
The second thing he noticed was that he was in different clothes than before. His old ones, made cold from the snow, were drying on the backs of chairs in front of the fire, even his hat and neckerchief. It made him wonder how he’d changed clothes to begin with.  
The third thing he noticed was that one Mary Poppins was sitting at his dining table, a shabby thing that wobbled when you put weight on it, with a darning needle in one hand and his sock in the other. A lot of his socks were laid out neatly on the table, as well as a shirt or two. 
“I’m glad you’re awake,” she said quietly, not looking up from the hole she was mending. “You’re clothes are in a dreadful state, Bert, I wish you’d told me before as these are just not acceptable to withstand the life you lead.”
His head began to thud as he tried to sit up. The low light of the room was catching his eye in the wrong way and despite knowing that it was frosty outside, he was still hotter than the roaring fire he was lying near. 
“How-” he broke into a cough. “How long was I out?”
“About an hour or two, you don’t have a clock in here,”
“Never needed one, if the sun’s up, I’m late,” he smiled. 
She gave him one of those ‘i’m trying not to smile but can’t help myself’ kind of smiles. The ones she gave him a lot when she was in the company of her charges. It wasn’t that she put on a front of being professional, but you couldn’t act like a woman being courted when you were looking after young children. He respected that. 
As he woke up more, whatever cold he’d caught took more of a hold. He hadn’t felt it this bad all day, sure he’d had to use his handkerchief more, Mary couldn’t stand sniffing, and the chill had gotten to him more than it usually did, but he hadn’t felt so bad he’d collapsed before. 
“You were frozen to the bone when I got you in here, so were your lodgings,” she said. “And there’s a dreadful draft in here, I don’t know how you can stand it, Bert.”
He just shrugged. He had to deal with it, it was all he could afford. Sleeping on the streets was something he was trying to avoid. That had been a rather bleak period in between the time when she’d come back into his life and her next visit. He’d been late on the rent too many times and was ousted onto the streets. It was only Mary that got him out.
“The only way I could get you warm was in the bath, and I did not feel like carrying water up from that pump outside, so I had to use other measures.”
He knew what she was on about. She’d never directly address her magic if she could afford it. It wasn’t shame, more modesty. Not that that was what he was focusing on. What his mind was occupied by, rather, was the fact that Mary Poppins had seen him naked. 
He looked down at his changed clothes. “You mean, you-”
Pointing at her, he heard her chuckle. 
“I’m a nanny, Bert, it isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.” She said matter-of-factly but he saw the way her face flushed a rather rosy shade of red.
“Yeah, but there’s a difference between bathing a child and a grown man,” 
“Are you sure, there didn’t seem much of a difference to me.”
“Hey!” He said covering himself up more.
“I’m only messing with you, Bert, and besides, if I hadn’t you would’ve frozen.”
He left the matter there and watched her get up. She was still a becon of warmth and respectability in his dingy surroundings. Kneeling down, she put the back of her hand to his forehead and tutted. 
“We need to get your temperature down, or I might have to call a doctor.”
He shook his head. “No doctor, Mary, can’t afford one.”
“Nonsense, I will not have you getting in any worse condition than you let yourself get into, now help me get you into bed.”
He swung his legs off the bed and felt them weaken as he went to stand up. Breathing was a little harder than it should’ve been as they made their way to the small room to the side of the main one with the lumpy bed in it. 
“Bed? But I’ve just woken up.”
“There are a few pillars of getting people better, they are warmth, nutritious food, and a decent amount of rest.”
He sunk his head as she lowered him down into the bed. “Well I may be lacking in those departments, Mary, if you couldn’t already tell.” He said, gesturing to the condition of the walls and the mould growing in the corners. 
“I did.” She stood up as he got settled. “Why didn’t you tell me you were living like this?”
The way she looked at him made him feel like a naughty child. He didn’t like the way it made his stomach drop. The only thing he wanted was for her to be happy when she was with him, he got the feeling he was failing. 
“What can you do? This is all I can make do with on what I earn, and I like what I do, so this is it.”
She sat down on the bed and stroked his shoulder. “But to let yourself get this ill?”
“I can’ do much more, Mary, if I don’ work, I don’ earn.”
She gave him that look again.
“Fine, I’ll rest tonight but tomorrow, well-”
“Well, what?” She spoke with a little more force. “What’s so important, who is so important that it’s worth your health, Bert?”
“I’m sweeping for some highly respectable people tomorrow, Mar, the Lord Mayor, and a few of them politicians you hear about in the papers, I can’ let them down.”
She shook her head, “Surely such respectable people would understand you taking a day for your health?”
“You’d be surprised, besides, I’ll make do, I always have.”
“You shouldn’t have to, and if you do, you might find yourself in hospital.”
“That’s worse than the doctor, Mary, if I can’t afford a doctor-.”
“Well, what’s worse, a few days lost wages or a week or two spent in a hospital you can’t apparently afford.”
He sighed and settled down in his bed. She began to move about the room, looking for more blankets. He watched her leave, closing the door softly, then heard her go about the main room, putting out the fire and coming back with her darning. 
“Do you have any more blankets?” She said, peering around the room.
“Maybe some under the bed?” The words left his mouth before he could realise what he’d said. As she knelt down to look, he darted up to reach out to her. “Wait-”
He was too late and settled back into the bed. His face was flushing red. This wasn’t going well. 
Mary had pulled backward and was covering her face with her hand. “Oh my, Bert.”
She gently reached underneath, pulling a spare rolled up blanket out with one hand and guiding a pile of papers all covered with bright colours depicting her. Pastel, paint, charcoal, anything and everything. The London skyline with her silhouette pictured high above it. Her face laughing, slightly covered in soot. 
“These are excellent,” Her voice was breathy as she took them in. “I'll have to sit for you one day.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “It would be my pleasure.”
She placed the portraits underneath the bed again and unfolded the blanket in one smooth motion. It landed perfectly over him, even tucked itself in. 
“I'll check on you in the morning,” she said, her hands folded over her stomach. “If you need anything in the night I'll just be through here.”
He sat up a bit in bed. “You ain't staying?”
“Well, I'll only be in the other room,”
“It would make me feel real better if you stayed, what if I'm too ill to get you?”
She thought about it for a moment then smiled. Just that smile made him feel better, like sunshine shooting in his body. 
“Oh, alright, then.”
She turned back to him and slowly sat at the end of the bed. She lent over and undid her shoes, placing them to one side. Next, she moved back to the other room to grab her bag, which she placed on the end of the bed, after which she undid her shirtwaist and folded it neatly, dropping it in the bag. He turned his head as she took off her skirt but part of him wanted to take a peak at her in her undergarments. 
No. That was a breach of privacy, Bert was nothing if not a gentleman. 
“Bert, let’s not kid ourselves into believing that we are the types of people who can’t see each other in their undergarments,”
He gulped, still not looking. “Well, they do say curiosity killed the cat.”
“And satisfaction brought it back.” She tilted her head toward him. 
“Sa’isfaction, ey?”
“One thing I always like to say is that the only person in control of one’s feelings, is oneself. So if satisfaction is what you feel, Bert, then let yourself be satisfied.” she smirked, something that Mary Poppins rarely did around most people, but Bert knew he wasn’t most people. “Besides, I did bathe you earlier, so believe we are on equal ground.”
“If you say so,”
He watched as she undid the next few layers, frilly ones with lace near her neck, he didn’t know what they were called, he was partially surprised by how many there were that made up her image compared to his undershirt and drawers that he wore under his shirt. Yet, when she clicked her fingers, he knew that she was undoing her corset. He could tell by the way it shaped her body, how the layers below relaxed as the weaves came undone and placed it carefully in the bag.
With her arm still in the bag, she pulled out a satin night gown with lace on the top. It wasn’t too showy, just enough for a proper nanny without making her be out of fashion. She turned her back and undid the final layer, pulling it off before pulling on her night gown quick enough that she didn’t give him any chance to see any bare skin before she undid her pinned up hair, letting it fall down her back, shiny and neat. 
“One last thing before we go to bed,” she lent back into the bag and pulled out a green bottle of medicine. “Someone as dreadfully sick such as yourself must take their medicine.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
She lent over and handed him a spoon, doling the medicine out onto the spoon. It was bright orange and tasted the same sharp, sweetness of the fruit. 
“Good, now lie down, you’re going to need plenty of rest over the next few days.”
He widened his eyes. “Days? I can’ not work for days, Mary.”
She slid herself between him and the bed. With one hand, she gently pushed him so he was lying on her lap, her hands stroking his hair. 
“If you work in your current state, you will end up in hospital, Bert.”
“But I’ve got clients, Mar, the Lord Mayor himself-”
“Will be perfectly understanding tomorrow, I think you’ll find.”
He smiled up at her, the low oil lamp making a halo around her head. “And they’ll just know, will they?”
“They’ll find out, yes, of course,”
“Well, I feel better already.”
She shook her head, “That’s all well and good but you’re not well enough yet, get some sleep.”
He closed his eyes. The light dimming behind them as he began to drift off. 
“Anything for you Mary Poppins.”
So, yeah, Mary Poppins, huh? It's just as much a shock to me as it is for anyone who reads a lot of my stuff that this is my new hyperfixation. Top Gun to Mary Poppins. I have a lot of ideas for this actually. Like who is Bert, is he mortal? Is he magic? Does he age differently like Mary or does he get reincarnated to be her right hand man/lover for as long as she's around? I want to explore! Also, how did her and Bert meet? Did he fight im ww1? Lots of fun questions to be answered. Thanks for reading!
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adamwatchesmovies · 3 months
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Easy A (2010)
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Inspired by Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter and John Hughes’s filmography, Easy A takes familiar story elements and makes them its own. Thanks largely to the enormously charismatic Emma Stone, this teenage romantic comedy by Will Gluck offers a lot of laughs while slyly delivering an important message tailored for the modern era.
17-year-old Olive Penderghast (Stone) lies to her best friend Rhiannon (Aly Michalka) about her weekend. She says she lost her virginity to a college boy she went out with. When her story is overheard by the judgmental and prudish Marianne (Amanda Bynes), it spreads around school like wildfire.
Easy A is set in a fantasy world where Emma Stone and Penn Badgley are average teenagers - in fact, Olive says she wasn’t turning any heads before the big lie -, and parents are all delightfully quirky or weird. In its defense, it’s consistent all the way through, and as a high school fantasy, it’s delightful. We could’ve cast someone plainer than Emma Stone (and in recent years, we have, in films like Booksmart) but then we wouldn’t have seen her belting her lungs, singing along with a greeting card, and we wouldn’t have gotten Penn Badgley in a laughably bad woodchuck costume trying in vain to rally up his classmates. As Olive’s parents, Patricia Clarkson and Stanley Tucci are hilarious - you can see where their daughter got her wit from - and the other adults paint this picture of a high school where even when things get bad, they never become THAT bad… until Olive’s lie starts to get so big no one could handle it.
For the most part, Easy A is a light comedy. I wouldn’t say that any scene will have you falling out of your seat but you’ll chuckle a lot and that smile you start wearing just a few minutes in? It only goes away when the film starts to get a little heavier. When I say heavier, I mean heavier for a film that’s perfectly suited for high-schoolers and their slightly cool parents. Now branded as a harlot, Olive decides to use her reputation to help Brandon (Dan Byrd), a classmate who is bullied for being gay. While attending a party, they pretend to have sex. He’s congratulated by his former tormentors. Her reputation is tarnished a bit more… but it’s not like it was squeaky clean anymore, so what’s the harm? You can see how things will escalate from there but it still hurts to see Olive get bullied and endure heartbreaks. It doesn’t matter that a lot of it comes from her own doing because you so easily relate to her situation. Who hasn't wanted to be cool? How many of us lost track of ourselves while trying to be liked? It’s that, combined with that time in 2011 (so 1 year after this movie) when 17-year-old Gaby Rodriguez performed a social experiment at her school by pretending to be pregnant for six months.
If your grandma is a stick in the mud, you probably don’t want to show her this one, and the little kids would have a lot of questions afterward but for everyone else, there’s so much to like about Easy A that its flaws hardly matter. It’s funny and the right amount of insightful without being too heavy. As a bonus, it's got great re-watch value, which means you'll have plenty of opportunities to memorize the snappy dialogue by Bert V. Royal. (On Blu-ray, October 14, 2021)
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crosseyedcricketart · 3 months
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the natchez trace in 2024
original website post here <3 originally posted on January 14 2024 at 9:00 a.m. 01-14-2024.
The Natchez Trace – Updated into 2024.
The Natchez Trace was recently updated, reopening last year in Alabama, with some new pavement and updated rest areas. I recently passed through there when traveling out of Alabama so I thought it would be nice to have an anecdote from me to you about the updates.
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Before the repaving, we always used the Trace heading into north Alabama and stopped at the rest stop in Colbert, Alabama. (Now, if you’re familiar with Steven Colbert, you may think you pronounce it the same as his name. But no. It’s “cole-bert” with a hard “t”.). This rest stop has been updated a bit, with a stable accessibility bar in the wheelchair-accessible stall of the restroom. Here’s some little bullet-points about this particular stop-
Water fountain, bottle fountain, and dog fountain. (Winterized at the time of travel).
Wheelchair/large stall with mobility handle available.
Multi-stall bathroom.
Hand drier, no paper towels.
Natchez Trace map available.
Picnic tables available.
Trash cans and recycling bin available.
Bicycle rack.
At the time, the fountain water was probably shut off for the winter season as it was ranging between 20°-40° F while we were there. The bathrooms were clean— very clean for what they are— with hand soap. In the women’s restroom, there is one sink, a mirror, and a filled soap dispenser. They use foaming soap in this area. These are the same buildings as before, while the inside had a facelift. These buildings are insulated well so they don’t let in too much of the cold. When I went in, it was a comfortable temperature. Not steaming, but certainly not cold. It was 43° F at the time of my visit. They use low light so the majority of the light in the buildings is natural light from the windows.
There are also no stairs at this stop, with ramp dips in the pavement from the parking lot into the side walk, and a ramp up to the restrooms. There is a little stand with a pamphlet of a map of the Natchez Trace Parkway and it’s expanse through Tennessee, Alabama, and Mississippi. This was a very comfortable stop with dogs; our two dogs went with us on this trip and there was a comfortable amount of space between the road and the parking lot for the dogs to (leashed) walk around without me worrying about a freak accident happening. Speaking of dogs, this stop has a doggie water fountain. Or for a person who is a foot off the ground.
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This stop, on Apple Maps, is “Colbert Ferry Visitor Center” with the address being:
Colbert Stand Trail Cherokee, Alabama 35616 United States
This stop is on the eastern side of Pickwick lake. This stop is where the Trail of Tears and Natchez Trace cross, the Trail of Tears following the Tennessee River and the Natchez Trace Parkway crossing over the river.
This leg of the trip was the trip back to Memphis, so we also passed through Walnut, Mississippi on Highway 72. Walnut is a small community with a Love’s Travel Stop. This particular Love’s has a Godfather’s Pizza Express in it. This location is very clean, well stocked, and has fresh food out. I am a very picky person with where I stop on trips and I tend to stop at truck/travel stops instead of normal gas stations. There is also a Jack’s beside the location. If you have never stopped at a Love’s, or a proper travel stop, they have fresh fruit, fresh coffee, warm food, and ample shelf-stable foods, along with some auto/truck care inside. Depending on the size of the stop, they have less and more of each. In my personal experience, Walnut’s location is one of the smaller travel stops.
Here’s the location of this Love’s off of Highway 72:
Travel Stop #799 600 Richardson Dr Walnut, Mississippi 38683 United States
For your own reference, if you’d like some more information, here’s a few resources relating to the Natchez Trace Parkway:
Natchez Trace Parkway via National Parks Service
Alabama Trail of Tears Locations via Muscle Shoals Heritage
Trail of Tears in Alabama via National Parks Service
That's all for today. I hope this was insightful and gave you an anecdote for this section of the Natchez Trace. Make sure to subscribe to get new blog posts in your inbox when I post. Have a beautiful day or night, wherever you are, and most of all, happy travels! - Annie, the crosseyed cricket.
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@stuckinuniformdevelopment
(prev) It would have been easier to handle Bert chewing him out for being a reckless busy body. This… disgusted him to his very core. How could Bert take responsibility for his foolish decision? “No..,” Teddy breathlessly said as he used the tissues. Then he cautiously hugged Bert while doing his best to minimize the pain. A hug was exactly what Bert needed… and what Teddy needed too. “Why would it be your fault? You tried to stop me, I saw how upset you were. Yet I pressed on anyways because… I didn’t listen to you… Even if you listened to my concerns.” Teddy took a deep breath as he prepared for what he was about to say next. Then he rested his hand on Bert’s. “Keeping everything to myself is my flaw. What could you do that my two wonderfully supportive brothers haven’t?” He paused to let out a bitter laugh. “Would you believe that I mentioned breaking up with Minnie to them? Not because I’m afraid of coming out— Freddy’s bi— but because I’m scared of them celebrating…” Which was a completely valid fear when their opinion of her did a one eighty the instant that she became nothing but that “baby killer” to them. Or… maybe not? They would at least hold back in front of him. Teddy wrapped his arms around Bert to give him a light squeeze. “Once again, I can not overstate how sorry I am for that. I’m trying to change, starting with telling you everything…”
Bert could think of a billion reasons why this was at least partially his fault and a billion things he could’ve done that Teddy’s brothers haven't. But he felt trying to refute Teddy’s reassurance would do nothing but further distress him and make himself seem whiny, so Bert stayed quiet as he looked down at Teddy’s hand on his. 
He did, however, give his friend a sympathetic look when he talked of not telling his brothers about his breakup. He felt he had no say in this matter, but he also felt that was a valid fear.
Bert sighed again. “I’m… glad to hear that. I will, too. I’ll try to be more supportive. I’ll try not to ignore my problems…” He tried to gently pull away from Teddy’s embrace. “And so… Could you please tell me why you seem to be in so much physical pain? Don’t think I couldn’t notice…”
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henrys-wee-hen · 10 months
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No-One Fucks With The Lobos - Chapter 10
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48070186/chapters/121964458
or read under the cut! Enjoy!
One week later
The soft, rhythmic beeps filled the room. The rest of the ward was silent. Skeleton staff, in the early hours of the morning. No-one could afford to be on the Lobos’ private ward, after all. The nurse manning the reception desk let out a yawn, stirring a cooling cup of coffee miserably. Just ten minutes until the day shift started… and then some other poor schmuck could come and watch over the new fucking Lobo addition. Nameless and faceless to those who didn’t need to know… but word spread, and everyone knew Teddy Lobo had found a partner, finally. Whether that was a good thing (someone to calm him down and keep him grounded) or a bad thing (the Harley Quinn to his Joker, the Bert to his Ernie, the bullet to his gun) remained to be seen.
What that nurse wasn’t prepared for, was a shrieking, monotonal beep that suddenly rang out from that single occupied room. None of the skeleton crew was prepared for it.
Not a fucking flatline!
“Shit!” He picked up the phone. “CODE BLUE ON FLOOR NINE! CODE BLUE, FLOOR NINE!”
Almost immediately, the place was a hive of activity. The on-call head doctor, Dr Tate, surged into the room with the other doctors, lowering the back of the bed to be completely flat. Chest compressions, oxygen, chest compressions, oxygen, over and over. Doctors took turns, working tirelessly… still, that line didn’t budge.
“Nurse! Nurse – call Mr Lobo immediately! Let’s get up to ICU.” The team agreed, and once again, the activity started. “Come on, (Y/N)… now’s not the time to give up…” Dr Tate carried on with the chest compressions while the team prepared (Y/N)’s body for the invasive tubing that ICU required. They only had a few minutes left before Dr Tate would need to make that call… and it had been too good a shift for him to lose Teddy fucking Lobo’s fucking partner.
Teddy lay on his stomach, the pillow hugged beneath his head, mouth open as he snoozed gently. His mother sat beside him in her robe, a fresh coffee in her hand. She ran her fingers through Teddy’s hair, sighing softly. Having her son home… it took her back to the days when Ritchie was alive, and taking care of things, and she didn’t have to claw back the empire he’d been ready to let go. Her little boy, sleeping just the same way… only this time, tattoos covered his beautiful bare skin, telling tales only Teddy knew the plots to. His mind had always fascinated her as he grew up. The way he’d invent things, scenarios, the way he’d see the world through fascinated eyes every day. He saw the world as a playground – a trait he’d never let go. And Bellafrancesca always said, the girl he chose to spend the rest of his life with would need to be able to handle that. The woman he chose to share himself with would need to adore play as much as he did…
So, where had he lost that desire to play? Where, over the years, had her little boy gone? That bright-eyed, curious little thing who’d been so willing to jump into the fray with a cry of ‘fuck yeah!’ or ‘fuck you!’?
Deep down, she knew it was because of her. Her disdain for the very thing she actually loved of him. Her disappointment every time he cocked up a bust, or got in trouble with the police… and his fear of the police, too. Even though they paid officers, he didn’t trust the power of money… and his fear of the Five Families, which had one day got him into a scrape that had nearly given them the plot of the fucking Lion King, but in real life…
Teddy shifted in his sleep, yawning and nuzzling his pillow. He murmured something, batting her hand away from his hair sloppily. Bellafrancesca smiled.
Bzzz! Bzzz!
Teddy’s phone vibrated loudly against the table. He woke with a start, frowning against the dim light of the grey morning that streamed in through the open curtains. He barely acknowledged his mother as he reached for his phone, scratching his head.
“Yeah?” The sleep left him. He turned pale. Whatever sleep he’d had left in him was taken down by the surge of adrenaline that hit him. “No… no… no, no no nonononono! FUCK! Alright – I’ll be there.” He put the phone down, palming his face.
“Teddy?” Bellafrancesca asked softly.
“(Y/N)’s flatlined… ICU… I gotta fucking go.” He climbed from the bed, staggering for the bathroom. Bellafrancesca rolled her eyes. Of course, her son wouldn’t be seen dead having just rolled out of bed. Or that’s what she thought, until she heard him throw up. She closed her eyes.
It took Teddy longer than he wanted it to take to get to the hospital, but when he got there, a fresh-looking Dr Johnson met him.
“(Y/N) is stable, Mr Lobo. We managed to get to ICU in time.” He gave a grim smile. Teddy passed a hand over his hair, shaking like a leaf. He followed Dr Johnson in a daze along the corridors to a more equipped room, where (Y/N) lay peacefully. Face bruised and bare to the world, but covered in a mask that took care of breathing and eating. Teddy felt sick. He felt so, so sick.
Two weeks later
Pulse. A rhythmic, steady beat. A beep accompanying it. Music? No… couldn’t be.
Something didn’t feel right. Purgatory? My chest was heavy and tight but also so, so wide open at the same time… and I didn’t have to do anything.
Nothingness. Blackness. Endless expanse of nothing all at once everywhere.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Soft murmuring… male voices. Dad? Uncle Jim? No. Both not here. No.
Beep. Beep. Hiss… Beep. Beep. Hiss…
Snake Jazz. Haha.
Nothing.
Awareness crept back to me slowly. Spreading out and down from the base of my throat, down to my chest. I forgot about arms and fingers, legs, hips… toes! Toes… Something horrible pulled itself out of my throat. It felt invasive, but then heaviness returned to my chest again. What was I supposed to do?
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Oh. Yeah.
I took a huge gasp of air, and it felt like I was coming up from the depths of a deep, dark lake. It took a long time for me to be able to crack my eyelids open long enough to make sense of the world around me. I wasn’t dead – heaven didn’t look like a fucking hospital room, I hoped – but I wasn’t wholly sure I was fully alive, either.
More time passed. People moved around me, poking and prodding at numb skin. God, I felt weak. Cold and weak. But I couldn’t tell them I felt cold and weak, and no-one moved the blankets up around me. The world went dark again for a little while, and then my eyes worked again. It was confusing, a trying time for sure.
It must have gone like that for a while, until I woke up feeling rather fully human. My awareness of myself felt fully into my body, if that made any sense. I had no dead parts, no missing parts. I wiggled every bit of me that I could, and chuckled softly to myself. My eyes didn’t feel like they weighed ten tonnes, either. I looked around, the room still a little fuzzy. It was for sure a hospital room. I was hooked up to all kinds of monitors, but the one with the steady beat was my heart monitor.
A soft groan from a chair beside me caught my attention.
Teddy. Teddy Lobo. Legs sprawled out, slumped down, arms at an odd angle. A single stray curl flopped down on his forehead, his shirt ruffled up just enough from the angles of his arms that a tiny smattering of dark hair showed behind the black tank tops he usually wore. He shifted a little, one leg straightening out a little more. It couldn’t have been a comfortable position, but Teddy wasn’t usually in control of what his limbs did. He coughed, slipping down more in the chair, so much that it woke him. He pushed himself up a little bit, yawning. He sat forward, massaging his eyes.
He looked at me. God, he looked tired. His face fell, the stress melting away in place of horror, anguish, joy, relief, all manner of emotions passing across and through those heartbreaking brown eyes. He surged forwards, falling to his knees beside the bed, taking my hand in his.
“Fuck, (Y/N)! I thought – you’re alive – thank fuck you’re alive!”
“Hey,” I murmured. It came out much longer than I’d expected. I sounded slurred, drunk almost. That was not my voice. “Oh… god… I sound… terr’bul…”
“Fuck, (Y/N), you’ve been out of it for three fucking weeks!” Teddy’s eyes shone. He stood up and hit the nurse button, knees shaking. “They – you were in the ICU – I thought you were gonna fucking die on me…”
I couldn’t remember why I was there. Nothing came to me. No memory of anything. Why was Teddy even there?
“Stephanie?” I asked. Teddy frowned.
“Who’s Stephanie?”
“Stephanie?!” I asked again. I just really needed to know where Katie was – was she safe?! “No – Katie is not Stephanie!” I slurred. “Katie – did – you hit me wi-th your car, no?” Teddy frowned at me more, confused. A doctor came in. I didn’t recognise him.
“Ah! (Y/N)! It’s wonderful to see you lucid! Welcome back to us!”
“Where’s Stephanie?” I asked again, my tongue thick. I really needed water, too. “No – Stephanie is not Katie! Katie is okay?”
“Katie? Stephanie?” the doctor turned to Teddy. “Any ideas?”
“Katie…” Teddy stepped a little closer to the doctor. “Was her partner, doc. She died in the line of duty a while back.”
“Ah. Then we have our first problem,” the doctor muttered to Teddy. I couldn’t make sense of it. “Memory loss. Undoubtedly the blood loss and flatlining gave her brain a good shake-up. It might come back… but keep her stress levels down.”
“Did you hit me, Tedbo? Lobert? No – Tobo –“ I fought with my tongue, still. Teddy chuckled and shook his head. “Car aggiden. Orange paint again?”
“(Y/N), what on earth is happening in that fucking mouth of yours, huh?” Teddy asked. He sat down as the doctor took some vitals from me.
“I don’t know.” I watched the doctor remove an unused cannula from my arm. “Did… you… hit… me… with… orange… car?”
“Oh – no.” Teddy shifted. “I’ll explain everything when you’re feeling a little better, baby. Alright?” I nodded smally, my head mashed. “Good. When will she be able to come home, doc Johnson?”
“Hard to say for the moment, Teddy. Keep faith it’ll be sooner rather than later.”
One week later
Relearning to do regular things, like walk and eat and drink water again, was hard enough. I had no idea how I’d gotten to the ICU at all, nor how I’d ended up in Teddy Lobo’s fucking clutches. But I hated him. Everyone kept telling me there were gaps in my memory, but no-one told me about Katie (even though I felt immensely sad for some reason), and no-one told me how I’d been given scarring so bad, I looked like a woodchipper had given me a hug. No-one told me anything.
“When can I go back to work?” I asked Dr Johnson one morning, as he came in to assess my vitals. I was getting stronger every day, and I was sitting up alone today. My body felt real good, but I longed to take a walk outside, feel the cold air on my skin.
“Oh, not for a while, yet,” Dr Johnson smiled. “You’ll need to be able to remember everything before you can think about going back to work. Alright?” I gave a resigned nod.
“Hey. There’s a police officer at the NOPD. Rebecca Quincy. Can you call her? Tell her to come see me? I could use a friendly face.”
“Certainly, (Y/N).” Dr Johnson gave me that same, patient smile. I lay back.
“And… can I walk today? Like outside, for a bit?”
“I’ll have a physical therapy nurse come in to accompany you.”
“Thank you, doc.”
Rebecca would explain everything. Rationally, I’d obviously had something big and bad enough happen to me, if I’d been in the ICU. Dr Johnson had explained to me that I’d suffered rather severe injuries that had left me with broken bones, a lot of cut up skin, and a lot of blood loss. I’d taken three transfusions on the operating table, and then I’d crashed and flatlined at one point. But I still had so many questions.
Why was Teddy Lobo being so fucking nice to me?
Why was I in a private hospital bed, when my work’s basic healthcare just about covered little more than the benefits that came with MedicAid?
What had actually happened to me to make me so injured?
Why was Teddy Lobo being so fucking nice to me?!
Why didn’t Rebecca come to see me? Or Katie?
Why did I feel so sad whenever I thought about Katie?
What the fuck was happening to me?!
I was sleeping for twelve to fourteen hours a night when they decided that sending me home would be a better idea. I woke up in a beautifully-ornate bedroom. Black Egyptian cotton sheets. Buttery-soft pillows. Half-drawn shutters. The sound of a videogame coming from somewhere. Smell of pizza.
Katie was dead. I was captive. Had been for months, now. The attack. The rape. The bathtub. Kissing. Teddy fucking Lobo had snapped and had tried to fucking kill me.
I sat up. My heart hammered against my chest. It flooded back to me in one whole freight-train-heavy hit. I felt the tears escape down my cheeks. Teddy fucking Lobo had tried to fucking kill me?! I remembered everything. And I laughed, a little bit demonically. I wasn’t going to take the fucking knee for him. No. He was going to take the fucking knee for me. And then, I was going to hurt him as much as he’d hurt me.
I slid from the bed and landed on shaking legs. I padded through the thick-carpeted corridors, following the sounds of the videogame. It took me past the kitchen, where I swiped a large, heavy kitchen knife from the block on the counter top. Through another corridor, the videogame was loud now. Mario Kart. Teddy, sat in front of the game on the sofa, back to me, pizza open beside him with three slices left. Engrossed. He was doing fairly well, too, in first place with a lot of little power-ups stored. He used them in quick succession, and won the race, making a little ‘yesss’ sound. Juvenile little bastard.
I stumbled behind him and took hold of him, pressing the blade of the knife weakly against his exposed throat.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t fucking end you right now, like you tried to fucking end me, Teddy-bear?” I breathed, my voice surprisingly steady. Teddy held his hands up and swallowed against the blade.
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SYCORAX IN: DAY OF THE DIESELS
i really want to hear about sycorax!!!
Oooh aight aight!
This one is my DOTD AU, because, as much as I like bringin' back ol' unhinged D10, this movie's got some major flaws, yet major potential, too. And look, Percy's got friends other than Thomas.
Enter Sycorax, a slightly-pretentious, dramatic, artistic, silly little Shakespeare fan of a BR Class 12 that lost their wheels in an accident and got tiny little narrow gauge Co-Co bogies slapped on 'em. They work on the UHR, which, is a whole can of worms to explain on its own.
The UHR, or the Ulfstead Heritage Railway, is an absurd little heritage railway going in and around Ulfstead, and is linked up to the Skarloey via a long, straight, boring line with one water column in the middle (until a Little Caesar's is installed, long story). Not to be confused with the Estate Railway, as this was built using Mid Sodor track, and is basically me taking that portion of rail shown in Toby's Discovery and adding to it.
(And It Was At This Point He Realized This Post Would Be Very Long, Because Now He's Recapping the WIP Because He Is Convinced He Won't Finish a Script Version After He Finishes This Outline-Thing)
Anyways. This one's about Sycorax, who I've decided has a few different levels of envy (the closest thing to engine gender envy and envy of his claw, mostly) when it comes to Diesel 10, yet, also an intrigue and a desire to meet him. With a claw like his, you could do a multitude of things Sycorax yearns to do, and most of that boils down to creative endeavors.
So, this is a tale with D10 written a bit closer to his personality in TATMR (campy ridiculousness yet being genuinely menacing), with some splashes of his DOTD tendencies in there (the scheming! the manipulativeness! I think TATMR Diesel 10 is very capable of this, but I'll tap into DOTD D10 a little more for this, too.) Also, Splatter and Dodge are 'Arry and Bert Headcanon Antics. Because once, a friend of mine came up with the HC that 'Arry and Bert are Splatter and Dodge because model reuse. (Diesel 10 gets to call them "Barry" now instead of "Splodge." Seems like they had a competence upgrade in general but they can get silly with it, too.) (While I'm at it, I gave Pinchy its semi-sentience back.)
Now onto the actual plot, it follows quite a few of the beats from DOTD except with less of the friendship envy and fire antics (at least in my planning, I need to set up how we get to the fire in the climax).
Diesel introduces Sycorax to Diesel 10 at the Dieselworks, which now have narrow gauge tracks for Plot Reasons, Sycorax finds themself in sheer admiration of Diesel 10's claw and Vibes and his appreciation for the arts (see: that sculpture Pinchy made in TATMR. I like thinking he has a comical amount of knowledge about art, specifically sculpture, and also, @sudriantraveler's "Diesel 10 is a theater nerd" concept is an absolute blast) and of course that makes them a good pawn for all this, in a slightly different flavor to Splodge Barry, because part of this is keeping Sycorax in the dark about how shitty this is gonna be.
So D10 gets Sycorax aboard, and it's time to go steal a crane from the Steamworks. Who better to get into theft, though, than She Who Pranks, aka Forsythia, Sycorax's fellow narrow gauge engine! (She's a steam engine, which, IMO, makes this even funnier.) Sycorax doesn't fancy themself a thief anyways, they think they'd suck at it. So they promise that their affiliate would be more than happy to do this. She is. But then she proceeds to ask her coach Nicolas and some trucks to give her a bump of a lifetime to send her to the Steamworks. This isn't what Sycorax planned, and they have to drag her to the Steamworks anyways. (She isn't too happy about this because she's getting separated from Nicolas for this, but she can handle it.)
Sycorax brings Kevin around, and they suggest the diesels perhaps postpone the raid of the Steamworks until nobody's going to be there, but Diesel 10 is willing to take hostages. He's already taking the building hostage, after all. Sycorax is opposed, but is coaxed into going with it. See indented excerpt.
When they return with their stolen crane companion, Sycorax explains, “Apologies that took so long, Diesel 10, but my… affiliate, she stupidly decided to get to the Steamworks via being sent there to have damage taken care of, and I was sent to bring her there. The good news is, though, that I have brought this crane. Very important. Didn’t… you say something about storming the Steamworks earlier? Can the operation even wait until she’s done?” “We’ll just have to storm the place with her in it.” “We’re going to… what, now? Truth being told, I never did ask why we’re trying to take the Steamworks… What’d they do to us?” “Have a crane,” Diesel 10 says. “Your brevity truly is the soul of wit,” Sycorax responds in a way that’s hard to read as genuine or sarcastic. “Not really. We’re using it as a bargaining chip. We give the hat guy his Steamworks and whoever's in there back, and we get our better Dieselworks.” “...hostages, Diesel 10?” “If you don’t like it, you should’ve backed out with the cranenapping!” “That was willing on all parties’ accounts, Diesel 10! We can’t just take unwilling hostages! Albeit, knowing Forsythia, she’d love to be there amidst a takeover, but what about everyone else that’s there?!” Diesel 10 is annoyed that they’re questioning him now. “We’ll deal with them later. We’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”
They lead the charge, and all hell breaks loose. Sycorax sits back and watches in realization that this is... not a good thing at all. Diesel 10, instead of joining in the mess, hangs back for a bit to try and manipulate Sycorax a bit more. It doesn't really pull through, and Sycorax just says they'll... catch up with the others in a moment. Diesel 10 begrudgingly leaves them to their devices, and we get the moment that really shakes things up for Sycorax.
Sycorax does stay put for a moment, watching Diesel 10 as he goes off on his own... only to watch him start ripping things up with his claw. Sycorax realizes his claw is a claw of destruction and not creation, and after a lovely little monologue, they declare that they won't let this become a tragedy, and they go to think about how to right their wrongs.
But we get a cut to the absolute CHAOS happening down at the Steamworks. Forsythia got put into a crane and is just swinging around and spinning. This is the best hostage situation she's ever experienced. Someone explained what was going on to her and she just embraced it, as one does.
Enter Wesley, who is literally just a steam engine here to bring some stuff over really quickly. He observes the chaos, isn't sure what's going on, and needs to figure out where to put this stuff, so he manages to muster up a loud, almost commanding "HELLO THERE!"
Everyone looks at him like this:
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At least, they do until Syth swings down asking what Wes is doing here, explains the situation very casually (much to Wesley's bewilderment), and assures the others that he'll comply with the hostage situation nonsense. Everyone goes back to their business, and Wesley decides if he's going to be stuck here he may as well find someone to have a good conversation with. See indented excerpt.
“Cousin Wesley! Fancy meeting you here! Have you come to join the party?” “What party?” Wesley asks. “Oh, you know, the diesel takeover of the Steamworks!” “The… the WHAT?!” “Yeah, uh, now that you’re here, you can’t really leave, but, I’m sure it’s fine, because this has been the most fun hostage situation of my life.” "You know this guy, Forsythia?" a diesel asks. "Yeah, yeah, he'll comply with staying around for a while, I'm sure. The party's back on, everyone! Wooo!" She swings off and the chaos starts again. "Well, darn. Guess it's time to try and have a good conversation with… someone who makes alright conversation." Then it cuts.
Meanwhile Sycorax is still pondering how to fix this, so far from their own railway.
...and when we cut back to the Steamworks, Wesley and Paxton are having a nice casual chat about that time Wesley ran into some geese, before it's revealed his crew went to get the Fat Controller. Aw shit. Cue the model era theme!
He puts a stop to this nonsense, explains there were already renovation plans for the Dieselworks, 'Arry and Bert make some comments about how that kinda throws things for a loop (in classic Splatter and Dodge dialogue fashion) before D10 tells them to shut up, and he explains that there's just been a misunderstanding, and then Syth busts in with a "oh, so that's why you sent Sycorax to steal who then sent me to steal?" from above, much to TFC's utter confusion.
"Shut it, you two," Diesel 10 mutters before clearing his lack of throat and focusing on TFC again. "Then, clearly, there's been some misunderstanding here, I assure you. We don't even have a working crane back at the Dieselworks, we thought action was necessary." "Oh, so that's why you sent Sycorax who then proceeded to ask me for help stealing a crane?" Forsythia says, dangling from the 'bove. "Forsythia? Whatever are you doing up there?" the Fat Controller asks. "Having a good time, Sir, but that aside, Diesel 10 said he'd keep anyone who entered here by chance or was already here hostage as a bargaining point, so the diesels ensured I was safely within this. Luckily for me, this thing is VERY fun to swing around in. I'm… not going to get into too much trouble for this, am I?" "How come we never put the other one in a crane, then?" a diesel just offhandedly asked. "You guys were way too distracted by your shenanigans. Rookie mistake," Forsythia tutted.
TFC gets everyone back on topic, saying that he needs any accurate accounts he can get out of Forsythia and Wesley, he needs Diesel 10 to go bring back Kevin, and he needs everyone else to start cleaning up this disaster. But D10 ain't fond of that.
Diesel 10 approaches the Fat Controller with his claw. Snapping and snapping and spanning at Sir Topham, but he stands his ground. Pinchy keeps snapping, closer and closer until… it draws back. "Pinchy. Pinchy, buddy, you can't be doing this now. Why are you acting like you don't wanna do this?" Pinchy makes a gesture akin to shaking one's head and cowering back. "Pinchy." Then Pinchy hits Diesel 10. "I HATE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT!" Sir Topham gets himself out of harm's way in case Diesel 10 manages to get Pinchy to listen, but it’s more “out of range” rather than “backing away,” y’know? "Diesel 10. I need you to bring back the crane,” he says. "You want your dinky little crane back? Fine. I’ll give it back." He goes outside.
Cue Diesel 10 getting even more menacing.
We cut back to Diesel 10 heading to the Dieselworks. "Pinchy, I get it. Maybe you just need to warm up a bit before getting messy. And I know just the way to prove our point." As it's starting to turn out, it was never about the Dieselworks. It was about Diesel 10 wanting to abuse his power over others. "We'll let them have their crane back alive, or in pieces. Then they'll listen."
Leave a violent diesel and a clumsy crane in a place with flammable materials, and what do you get?
A fire, of course. Never quite sorted out how exactly it happens, but it does.
Sycorax sees the fire, startled. "Rails below and sky above… that's not normal engine smoke, is it? It's a lot bigger! There's a fire!" They and their crew kick it into high gear. Their aim is to see if they can do anything about it and then get help. Sycorax sees Kevin just staring at the fire in horror and snaps him out of it with a, "Kevin, what are you doing? You need to get out of here!" "Diesel 10's trapped! He was trying to get me with his claw, but then he started a fire!" Kevin exclaims. “There’s not much we can do except call for some firefighters. Come on, Sycorax, we must hurry," their Driver says. "There’s something else we can do!” Sycorax exclaims. "Kevin, go get help! Driver, there's a fire extinguisher in the building! If it's safe to get it, we can get Diesel 10 out even quicker!” And luckily for everyone involved, they can get to it because the fire hadn't spread to the front yet. The two rush into action, putting out enough fire to get to Diesel 10. Having realized there’s two tracks here, Sycorax’s driver has gotten a cable to tie these two together for a bit so Sycorax can pull him out of there in case he can’t move himself. He could’ve probably but… proactivity. "Sycorax?! Are you stupid? There’s a FIRE. What are you doing?" "Helping you. Kevin's getting the firefighters." "And you didn't just leave me for them to save?" "Every second counts in an emergency like this, that's why it's important to get out of it as soon as possible! You're lucky I even remembered the fire extinguisher that’s inside! Now hurry!” The two get out, and the fire crew of Belle and Flynn arrive. The two stay out of the way.
And then we get the final bit from this WIP, one I'm especially fond of.
“Thanks for getting me out of there, I guess,” Diesel 10 ends up saying. How are you supposed to react to someone saving your life? Nobody does that. Especially not when you're Diesel 10. “Let this be a lesson to you, Diesel 10. Your ambition could have been your downfall. I know this fire was your doing, and, goodness, you even tried to bring harm to Kevin! ‘Tis ironic that I found myself saving you after I had renounced this entire thing and wished to make things right, but that doesn’t change the fact that my opinion of you has changed drastically." We get a shot of Diesel 10's expression. This situation is clearly some sort of uncomfortable for him. "...and I shall let this be a lesson to myself, too," Sycorax adds. "'Tis not wrong to admire another's traits, but to idolize someone else without knowing their character? That would be my true folly, had I not realized it any sooner. They say never to meet your heroes, Diesel 10. I think I know why." "You speak like you came outta the sixteenth century," Diesel 10 complains, because cracking one-liners whenever shit goes wrong is kind of his thing. Sycorax half-laughs.
There's some Sycorax dialogue here and there in this WIP I'd like to improve, because they're a wonderful character that's in constant flux between using whatever's up-to-date in terms of words and random older terminology. I could definitely see them slipping into a "tis" and "thou" sort of mood during all of this, though, makes sense when you're getting morally contemplative.
So, yeah, that's Si:DoTD.
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bishop-percival · 10 months
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@head-chef-watchdog-quincy
(prev) The elevator doors opened and Quincy came out. He really does not want to run with such important food on his person so he continues to speed walk as hastily as his legs could, however, he is tempted to run. It's been a little too long for his liking and he is starting to get excited now that he is on the correct floor. He picks up his pace juuuust a little bit untill he turns a corner and a room is revealed: Room 423. Quincy beamed at the sight and approached the door where he was met with a very... Strange sight. What happened here? The door handle was nonexistent and seemed to have dripped to the floor, what an odd thing to happen to a door handle right before his dinner. Quincy squints at it for a little but not for too long as he notices the other two already in the room, he looks up from the handle remains to see them and the confusion in his eye is quickly replaced with glee. Rather quickly he put down some bags on a table and neared the two, Quincy continued to take each of their hands and shake them rapidly. He doesn't know his own strength, always cutting raw meat and many other various tough things can really make your hands and arms a bit strong, the shake may be disturbing for the weak limbed. "Percival! Bert! So happy you two could make it, it's a joy to have you two here! I'm so busy, I never seem to have the time to bother with friends much... So it's very nice to have some free time to see my friends. Bless the little chefs of my kitchen."
Bert breathed a big sigh of relief to be interrupted by Quincy. He happily let Quincy shake his hand with such force that his arm was nearly being dislocated. “Head Chef Watchdog Quincy! Ohh it is wonderful to see you again!”
Percival instantly changed his demeanor from menacing to jovial at the sight of Chef Quincy. He politely smiled and tensed his arm so as not to be jostled so hard from the handshake.
“Chef! We’re glad you could make it! I’m excited to see what kind of meal you’ve cooked up for us.”
Percy then yanked his hand out of Quincy’s grasp. “Oh Chef, I’ve even brought you a gift as thanks!” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a goodie bag of various herbs, roots, and plants from distant planets. “Ingredients!” 
He then turned towards Bert. "Did you bring anything to thank dear Chef for cooking for us?"
Bert looked at his hands and twiddled his thumbs. "Um..."
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insane-control-room · 2 years
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Spiderling
Chapter 3/3: Responsibility
first - previous
Shawn and Bertrum talk.
warnings: none
ao3 link
It was the most cordial break up Shawn had ever experienced.
And it was awful. 
Not the fact that they had broken up, no, but the fact that he felt like something was now missing from his life, even more than that gap that was going unfilled between him and Bertrum.
Now Bertrum was not there at all. They had agreed to break up and wished the other a goodbye and happiness, but for the past week all Shawn could think about was Bertrum, wondering if he could have done something to make them last, or his booming, solid laugh, or the way he would turn pink whenever Shawn would flirt with him or kiss his hands and cheeks. 
He missed him, even though they still worked in the same building. He never spoke to him, and hardly saw him, mostly hearing of him from other workers, and the news he got was never particularly reassuring, though he tried not to hear it either way. He was aware that no matter what he would hear, it would both break his heart and leave him with an empty satisfaction. If Bertrum was unhappy, or if he was happy. Both would have the same result, and that would mean Shawn was going to stay away. 
The rumors had it quite inconsistently, and Shawn was never quite sure what to believe, if he was doing fine or if he was absolutely miserable. 
Bertrum could tell you that both of the rumors were true. There were times he felt remarkably free and no longer obligated to try to break out of his comfort zone, and other times that he was utterly distraught that he did not strain against his own boundaries any harder. There were moments he caught himself turning to Shawn to talk to him with triumph, or to get his opinion, but he simply was no longer at his side. Whose fault was that but his own? Moments of being glad that the Irishman was not there to ask incessant questions about everything in the entire department that then made him feel overwhelmed with guilt. Ups and downs. 
Something missing.
Something off. 
No better than before. 
Neither of them were comfortable, but neither of them were willing to approach the other. 
And Lacie right about had enough of that. 
One afternoon, while Bertrum was moping around like a bulldog without its best friend squirrel, Lacie handed him a cup of coffee and gave him a stern talking to. 
“You’ve been a sad, pathetic little man,” she scolded him. “Take that up to Shawn and talk to the man, for the devil’s sake. You don’t have to date him to see him, ya know.” 
“But it’s so awkward,” Bertrum fumbled to defend himself, gripping the cup’s handle tightly, though his grip was perfectly steady. “I don’t want to bother him.”
“He’s just as sad and lonely as you are, Bert,” Lacie stated bluntly. Bertrum did not seem surprised by the statement, but neither was he happy about it. “Go. Talk. To. Him. When I told him to go to you, he got all shy and worried. He cares about you, Bertrum, and doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. If you’re too unwilling to do it for him, do it for ya best friend.”
“Blackmailer,” Bertrum grumbled, but there was a small thoughtful smile on his face. “Alright. I’ll go talk to him, as well as I can, at least.”
“Good.” Lacie patted his back. “Be off with ya. I’ll handle the interns. One of ‘em blew up a fuel tank.”
“Kids,” Bertrum muttered and shook his head. “Well, they’ll learn.”
Lacie waved him off as he made his way up the stairs.
‘Hopefully you’ll learn too’, Lacie thought to hirself as she worked with the apprentices. ‘Ya stubborn old coot’.
***
Shawn’s head picked up on instinct at the familiar knock on the doorpost to his office, getting up quickly and taking two brisk steps towards the sound. 
“Bertie!” he greeted enthusiastically, before his smile froze and remembrance hit him. His expression became stiff and his pose awkward, shifting from foot to foot. “Er. Bertrum. How are you?”
“I’m fine-” Bertrum caught himself in the lie and sighed. “Not really, could be much better. I, um, I’m afraid I’ve missed you too much to be ‘fine’.”
“Oh,” Shawn said, feeling a little less alone. “Me too.”
Bertrum took a step forward and offered the drink to his former lover. 
“Here,” he softly stated. “For you. I’m not sure if it’s exactly the way you like it. I’ll be honest, Lacie gave it to me to give it to you.”
“That Mx. Benton,” Shawn gave a laugh that was only slightly stilted as he took the proffered cup. “Always needling in everybody else’s business like it was hir own.”
“Shawn,” Bertrum said at last. “I’m sorry with how we ended things. I did not show any responsibility for your wellbeing, though I should have. I agree- we are not meant to be together romantically. However…I would like to continue to spend time together.”
“You mean like… not cuttin’ each other out of our lives?” Shawn asked. Bertrum nodded firmly. Shawn grew quiet, holding the mug tightly in two hands, his feelings hard to read from his drawn face. A slight smile began creeping along his lips, and he looked up from the dark drink to see Bertrum not as a bad relationship, but as a changing one. “Yeah. I think I’d like that a lot. I really do love ya, Bertie.”
Tumblr media
“I love you too, Shawn,” Bertrum replied with a greater ease than he ever had before. It was exhilarating. “And I’m so happy that you’re in my life. I’d like to keep it that way as long as we can.”
“You’re gonna have a tough time to be rid of me,” Shawn joked, despite appearing close to tears of joy. 
Bertrum laughed, hugging him around the shoulders. 
So as not to spill the coffee.
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sonneillonv · 2 years
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Okay! So I binge-watched A League Of Their Own and my opinions are thus (spoiler warning):
I don’t really like Greta and Carson. Like... I don’t much like either of them as people AND I don’t really like them as a couple. Absolutely no interest whatsoever in watching them make out and go through drama. No stakes whatsoever for me when Charlie came home - it was just another drop in the drama bucket. Here we go again 🙄. Charlie seems sweet, I guess we’ll see his true colors now that he Knows. But frankly, I think both of them act like assholes to others and to each other, and I honestly have a really hard time buying that they’re in love because it doesn’t feel like love to me. It feels like someone desperately painting love on a false front, hoping that’ll turn a cut-out into a real building. I can’t get into it. Like when Greta told Carson not to always come to her with her problems, and Carson was like “??? I’m just trying to TALK to you?” I just. Noped the fuck out. There’s nothing wrong with having a just-physical relationship if that’s what two (or more) people want, but you have to discuss that. It has to be okay all around. I think Greta spends the whole season taking ruthless advantage of Carson, taking exactly what she wants from her and slapping down what Carson wants, giving her just enough little bits of sweetness so she doesn’t wiggle off the hook entirely. Carson had more chemistry with Max, tbh, and I’m not quite sure I ship them...? Because there’s that whole ‘invisible white privilege’ thing going on...? But I definitely like their potential more than I like Greta and Carson’s actuality.
I am REALLY fucking invested in what Clance and Guy are going through. That sweet baby boy better come back alive and intact from this war or I s2g I’m gonna set a few tumblr posts on fire. And Clance had better get her comics out there. She is WAY too good to keep her drawings on the kitchen table, and now that she’s moving into more ‘real’ work (like, it can still be superheroes but it will resonate more with folks if it’s about real issues) I seriously think she has nowhere to go but up. I hope to god she and Max can work it out, because I do NOT want to lose Clance to homophobia, I love her so much.
Maxine Chapman has never done a goddamn thing wrong IN HER LIFE and yet she goes around apologizing to people all the time, and it pisses me off. That thing with Bert? Are you SHITTING me? He shows up to her home where she never invited him, where her best friend lives to whom she is not out yet, and hands her that suit and has the unmitigated GALL to be pissed at her because she’s not ready to be out and proud like him. And then SHE apologizes to HIM? Oh fuck no. He could have gotten her fucking lobotomized with that shit, he should have been apologizing to HER. Like, I am not exaggerating, we literally have dialogue in the show about how one family found out their daughter was a lesbian and ‘had her put away’. Max has every reason to be completely terrified of what would happen to her as a black butch lesbian in 1943, and Bert has no right whatsoever to make assumptions about whether she should be Out and how that will affect her. I am so angry about how that scene was handled. How do you walk into a baby queer’s house with a gnc gift and NOT see the terror on her face and see her frantically trying to explain your visit to her housemate who is eying you like you’re the one who handed Eve an apple and recognize that you fucked up.
Esther’s okay, I guess. Once again, she strikes me as a little bit of a jerk and I’m just not sure I actually like her with Max. Maybe it has less to do with her and more to do with how mad I am that Max keeps apologizing for shit that isn’t her fault. It makes me think Esther might take advantage of that or something, even without meaning to. She’s presented as someone who had to fight her way to where she is now, and it makes me wonder if she won’t reflexively try to keep Max down a little bit just so she can feel secure that she’s not about to be shown up.
Lupe, Jess, and Esti are my faves right now, in terms of friendship and family dynamics. I might have a little bit of a crush on Jess, also? But I honestly think I liked Carson best during that very brief honeymoon period when she and Lupe were perfectly in sync and playing ruthless baseball and finishing each other’s sentences and mirroring each other’s signs. As soon as Carson turned against Lupe I was like “oh so the farm girl goes IN the trash, got it”. Lupe and Jess trying to co-parent Esti despite Jess not speaking her language and them not really being a couple is the most wonderful hilarious thing I saw on this show, and Esti’s fierce love and loyalty toward Jess even though they communicate almost entirely through gestures is just *chef’s kiss*. And poor Esti, god, when she made that comment about how she feels like a ghost because she can’t talk to anyone, my heart fucking broke. But even then, Jess is right there proving that love isn’t what you say, it’s what you do, and you can tell if someone loves you by their actions. Jess never treats Esti like a ghost. When she runs off to the bus station, Jess is the first to notice she’s disappeared and to CARE about what her absence means. I honestly feel less charitable toward the rest of the team partially BECAUSE they ignore Esti so much. That little girl is freshly sixteen in ep08 and Jess is the ONLY one actively taking care of her??? TF is wrong with y���all? That is a whole baby trying to make it in a foreign country where she doesn’t even speak the language! Huddle up on her, damn.
So anyway, those are my thoughts on season 1, do with them what you will.
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briamichellewrites · 8 months
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63
Phoenix was dating Mike, though not officially. He felt relieved to be out as gay. Mike didn’t judge him. Instead, he accepted him for who he was. He wanted to tell the band, just so he could be open with them. Mike encouraged him to do it when he felt comfortable. Nobody could make him come out. That decision was his. He understood. The next time they were in the studio together, he waited for the perfect opportunity.
They could tell he was antsy about something, so they asked him if he was okay. Actually, there was something he needed to tell them. They all looked at him. I’m gay. Silence for a moment. Chester went over and hugged him. Congratulations. The other guys also congratulated him on coming out. He felt relief wash over him. Thank you. How long had he known?
Since high school. He dated girls, even though he was sexually attracted to men. It was because of Mike, that he was finally comfortable with who he was. Brad told him that no matter what, they would never think of him differently. Thank you. He appreciated that.
He had so many questions about Bria and how they knew her. Rob explained that she was Mike’s girl. He laughed at that. That led to them asking him what they had wondered for two years. What happened between them? They became close friends so quickly. He sighed and asked them for an open mind because it sounded crazy. They agreed.
He then told them about their dream. The first time he met her was in 1999 when she was signed to their label. He explained everything he remembered happening, including her inappropriate relationship with Brad Pitt that resulted in her falling into a coma after drinking too much and falling asleep. Did she survive? Yes, she did but in the second dream, she became an alcoholic after moving in with Brad. She was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and bipolar disorder.
She was a very successful alternative country music artist with multiple Grammy awards, but she wasn’t truly happy. How long was her addiction? Five years. She got sober because she found out her organs were going to shut down. After rehab, she moved into sober living. She was sexually assaulted by Richie Sambora from Bon Jovi. She was also in a relationship with Jon Bon Jovi.
He was in an open marriage and they were sleeping together whenever he was in town. She dated Bradley Cooper for a while and she did a documentary about her life with him.
“She also dated Brad but she cheated on him with Jon and Brad. Before we woke up, she had started dating Phoenix.”
“She cheated on me”, Brad asked for clarification.
“Yeah. You broke up with her because of that because you couldn’t trust her anymore. She dated Rob but they broke up because he couldn’t handle her mental health issues.”
Sexual assault. Did she go to the police? No, because she didn’t want what Richie did to affect the band. She also didn’t think it would legally be considered assault because he never asked for consent and she never said yes or no. Instead, Jon was making sure he didn’t contact her. He also fired him from the band. What about now? He admitted to having an emotional affair with her starting when she was sixteen years old. On her eighteenth birthday, it became sexual.
They didn’t know that. Did it make them see him differently? Yes, but they could move past it. They had no idea what to think about their dreams. It didn’t make sense. How could they both have the same dream? He didn’t have an answer for that. On a funnier note, she at one point had five cats. They laughed at that. Five! Yes. He tried to remember them all, as he counted on his fingers.
“It was actually six, but one died of leukemia. Bon Jovi, Cookies, Cream, Bert, Ernie and Mama. She was only going to get one more kitten, but she came across Mama and her kittens and she decided she didn’t want to split them up. So, she adopted all three of them together. She was a great cat mom, who loved them like they were her children. For a while, she and two of her cats were living with me because she was having trouble with her mental health. Cats are assholes.”
They laughed. Was she still recording music? No, she recorded a full album but the label decided not to release it. They then dropped her. She and Brad were working on getting her masters back. What was she doing instead? She was an escort for wealthy men. Were they serious? Yes, they were.
“She goes on dates and is paid for them”, Rob said.
“Who is she dating?”
“She won’t tell us because it’s confidential, but she can make more than a thousand dollars just for traveling. That doesn’t include the guy paying for her flights or accommodations. She went to Paris for a weekend and was paid a thousand dollars, plus five hundred dollars for shopping money”, Mike said.
“Holy shit! Is that legal?”
Yes, there was a loophole. She wasn’t selling sex, which made it legal. It was something she was doing to be able to afford rent, bills, insurance, food, and other expenses. She didn’t have any family members to help her out financially, because her mother disappeared after surrendering her at birth. For sixteen years, she was in the foster care system until she became emancipated. She didn’t know who her father was or what happened to her mother.
When they met her, she was quiet and kind of afraid of them. She slowly became more comfortable around them. They learned that she had been moved around a lot while in foster care, so she learned how to put up walls to protect herself from getting hurt. She was incredible and they couldn’t believe how far she had come in two years.
When she came to the studio at the end of the day, she was wearing a floral print dress that went down to her ankles. Where the hell did she come from? A yacht. How was the date? It was more fun than she thought it would be. She was not a boat person, so she thought she would get nauseous. Thankfully, she didn’t because that would have been extremely embarrassing. They laughed. Would she get on a boat? No, it didn’t sound fun to her.
They didn’t know that she had become Chester’s drug dealer. One of her customers gave her samples of cocaine, heroin and MDMA pills. She was going to sell them to him for fifty dollars each. They couldn’t do the deal in front of the band because they would get into massive trouble! Instead, they were going to go to his place. Sam had thrown him out because of his drug addiction.
So, he got a hotel room. They drove over. Once inside, she gave him the drugs and he gave her the money. While sitting on the floor, he took out the pills and had her try one. She put it into her mouth and swallowed it. It took a few minutes to work. When it did, she saw bright colors. They were so beautiful! She laid back and looked up at the ceiling. He smiled and asked her what she was seeing. She described everything. He laid down on top of her.
“Chessy, you’re fucking amazing!”
He laughed. “I thought you would like it. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog
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@bishop-percival
(Previous) Mike quietly wrote some notes as Teddy spoke. He didn’t interrupt once, save for a quiet scoff that slipped out when Teddy mentioned Miriam. Mike knew his sister wouldn’t be caught dead using her magic for someone like Commander Peepers. And just the thought of her trying to function in a part-time job outside of the church was rich.... Although, he really couldn't imagine himself doing well in one either, even if it was something that pertained to his interests. He rested an elbow on his knee and leaned his head into his hand. “Some of what you’ve described here isn’t too far off from how the COG used to function. Deacons at least were allowed to have a life outside the church. Some even volunteered to do odd jobs around the Skullship. But over the years, Percival became more and more controlling about the clergy’s doings. Just as he’s become more and more careless about his own actions. And as he’s become more and more powerful…” Mike removed his glass from his face and got out a soft cloth from his pocket to wipe it down. He was hesitant to speak out loud further about his concerns with Percy. But it was such a heavy weight on his mind that bearing it alone was proving to be difficult, almost impossible. It was only slightly humiliating, and ironic, that the only person Mike felt somewhat-comfortable enough talking about this to was some infiltrator who held mutual distrust towards him. After a pause, Mike replaced his glass. “Listen, I... accidentally let it slip that I learned of Percy’s true intentions. And when pressed on how I learned this, instead of ratting YOU out,” He leaned over and flicked Teddy’s helmet during the emphasized 'you', hoping it would make him stop leaning on the ladder, “I took it upon myself to lie and say it was me who was conscious during the last summoning ritual.” Mike fixed his gaze on the telescope. "My next moves have to be delicate. I'm one more misstep from being scrapped. Glorn knows I can't take him on."
The more Revenard Mike spoke the lower Teddy sunk on the stepladder. He had tried not to hold out hope. Yet he was disappointed that he was still on his own for both of his objectives.
Teddy's shock at how close Revenard Mike came to giving him up-- and confusion at why he was telling him about it-- was quickly overtaken by rage when he messed with his helmet. This was a way to remind him of his place, wasn't it!?
Although that didn't explain why he seemed so... vulnerable. Was it a ploy to manipulate him or was he being genuine?
Teddy stepped out of Revenard Mike's reach and glared as he adjusted his helmet. Then he found an old rolling chair and sat backwards in it so he could rest his chin on the back.
"Thank you for deciding to keep your puppet around another day." His sarcasm was clear, yet the general message was sincere. "I'll remember that next time I'm tempted to kill you."
A few minutes of stargazing was enough to settle Teddy down. "He's getting arrogant, isn't he? With the way he's headed you won't have to do anything but minimize collateral damage."
Then Teddy paused as he thought about the worst case scenarios. His main concern was Bishop Percival openly going after Bert regardless of his ant army and Commander Peepers' protection.
Logically that would be enough to keep Bert safe as long as Bishop Percival didn't get close. He should try not to worry and trust that Bert can handle it.
The Glornists were more likely to get destroyed. Teddy included, as much as he hated to admit it even to himself. If Bishop Percival ever found an accession ritual that required sacrificing his faithful followers they were toast. Or at the very least Shep was. Probably the rest too with how little regard he showed to Charlie and Owen.
Teddy slumped forward and draped his arms over his chair as he said, "If Bishop Percival suddenly decides to invite every Glornist to a ritual I'm taking all my vacation days at once."
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Note
[Bert received a text with an attached document at exactly 8 am]
Dear Bert,
I cannot overstate how sorry I am for ignoring your warnings before it was too late. Well, aside from being a crummy friend and having to avoid you I'm not that sorry at the moment. But I'm sure I will be by the time you read this. Or was? I'm having trouble figuring out the proper tense...
If you're reading this I've succumbed to my motor oil milkshake. Please don't come after me. Stay away from the Glornists. Forget that you ever knew me. I highly doubt that there's anything left of me anyways...
At the very least, leave Revenard Mike alone. I'm currently 80% sure that we're on the same side.
Freddy should be by later to give you what I left you. Or to rope you into something stupid. Please ignore him in the latter case. I hope you'll both listen to me... The last thing I want is to be the cause of your deaths.
It's ironic, isn't it, how I tried to distance myself from you after you almost died? Only to put you in the same situation I desperately avoided? Thank you for being a better person to me. I regret not spending more time with you.
Sincerely,
Teddy Walters
Bert was up bright and early, which wasn’t usually the case as he often scheduled his work hours into the night. However, he made an effort to wake up early on this morning because he didn’t want to miss the latest bootcamp training session. He felt he was actually improving in his physical capabilities, and was even looking forward to keeping it up. But most of all, he was happy to be keeping up his promise to his good friend that he’d take more care of himself.  
He walked up to the training quarter’s doors and reached toward the handle before stopping when he heard his phone ping. He looked to see that it was an attachment from the aforementioned good friend! An attachment from Teddy usually meant an interesting scientific article or the occasional impact-font chemistry cat meme. Bert eagerly opened the file. His face dropped as he reread the note a few more times. His thoughts scattered and he stood numbly in place.
A “Dude, you’re blocking the door” snapped Bert out of his haze as he looked to see a line of impatient watchdogs waiting to get into the gymnasium. He looked back at the door for a moment before turning around and storming off in the other direction. He didn’t stop running until he made it to his laboratory. He yelled at and pushed the other scientists and lab assistants out, shutting the door behind them. He then hacked into the keycard terminal to lock and deny access to anyone else. 
If Teddy didn’t listen to him, Bert wasn’t going to listen to Teddy. He was going to go looking for his friend. He wasn't going to stay away from the Glornists. He wasn’t going to leave whoever “Mike” was alone. And most of all, he sure as hell wasn't going to forget Teddy. Sure, much to his dismay, Bert would soon find out that Teddy had completely vanished along with Mike and most of the church body. But in that moment, Bert only understood that Percival had yet again ruined another part of his life and that it was about time he did something about it. He clenched his fists. He wanted to cry, but could only bring himself to laugh instead.
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