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fontegagrilledcheese · 3 years

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Dumbasses in Quarantine

This is my Bog Exchange fic! I finally finished! This is for the lovely @herostag I hope they like it!

Special thanks to Dani and Doug for beating my grammar with a stick. Ily <3

This is 2.9K words of idiots being idiots during the plague. Just pure fluff, no CW here. Modern Au.

1. Geralt had finally had enough of Jaskier complaining about all the takeout they had been consuming since everything had gone on lockdown, so here he was, watching a pot of noodles cook while Jaskier was in the living room weeding his island in Animal Crossing for the third time that week. He stirs the spaghetti around before grabbing a second pot and the jar of pasta sauce that he had bought at some point in the last few years. Geralt pours the sauce into the pot, throws some Italian seasoning in and hmms at the consistency before ladling some pasta water into the sauce to thin it out slightly. “Dinner’s almost ready” Geralt softly calls to Jaskier before going back to his noodles, fishing one out to check the doneness. Geralt bites into it and makes a face at the sweetness as Jaskier walks into the kitchen.

“Everything all right there?” Jaskier inquires, coming over to look into the pots on the stove.

“Hmmm, I think so. Taste this?” Geralt fishes another noodle out to hand over to Jaskier, who eats it with a hum.

“That doesn’t taste right,” Jaskier says thoughtfully. “But I don't know enough about cooking to dispute it.”

Geralt hums again, “Think it will be fine?”

Jaskier just shrugs and goes to set the table, leaving Geralt to finish putting the meal together. Geralt tilts his head at the pots on the stove before pulling out his phone to text Eskel ‘is pasta supposed to be sweet when cooking?’

While waiting for a reply, Geralt drains the noodles and dumps them into the sauce to stir them in before his phone rings with a call from Eskel.

“You tried a noodle and it tasted sweet?”

“Yeah, is it supposed to be like that?”

There is a moment of silence where Lambert can be heard laughing in the background before Eskel replies, “Are you sure you put salt in the water?”

“Yeah, poured a bunch of salt in there like you said to.”

Eskel hums, “Are you sure it wasn't sugar? Did you make sure to taste it first?”

The silence on Geralt's side is telling, and Lambert can be heard dying in the background.

“Thanks Eskel,” Geralt says before hanging up and staring down at the pot of sugared spaghetti.

“Hey Jask, how do you feel about getting takeout again?”

Jaskier sighs, “What happened?”

Geralt blushes “I… I may have put sugar in the water instead of salt…”

“Oh… but the sauce?”

“I put some of the pasta water in the sauce to thin it.”

Jaskier starts giggling, “G-Geralt... noooo.”

Geralt sighs, wearily turning off the stove. “So takeout?”

“Yeah, takeout is fine. Whatever you feel like.”

Geralt hums and pulls up the delivery app, “Sorry, Jask.”

Jaskier sidles up to him, giving him a half hug, “Thanks for trying.” He leans fully into him so he can see Geralt's phone as they order.

2. A while into quarantine, Jaskier decided he needed some greenery in his life, since he couldn’t leave the house. This led Jaskier to order himself a cute little cactus from a local nursery for the next time they order a grocery pick up. Talking Geralt into stopping by the shop on the way back from the store proved easier than Jaskier had anticipated. Geralt had begrudgingly agreed after hours of Jaskier’s pouting and puppy eyes wearing him down.

Jaskier dances around the apartment with his new treasure before placing it on the sunny windowsill in their living room. Geralt rolls his eyes but smiles at his roommates' antics, “You do know how to take care of it don’t you?”

Jaksier pouts at him, “It’s a cactus, how hard can it be! I just water it every so often and bam, beautiful thriving mini Geralt!”

Geralt huffs at him, grabbing a controller for their gaming console, “You promised I could destroy you at Mortal Combat if we picked up the plant.”

“Yes, yes Geralt I’m coming, just let me water my precious child.”

Weeks later, Little Geralt starts looking a bit droopy, causing Jaskier to water him, but unfortunately Jaskier does not account for his ADHD and lack of calendar filling out, and proceeds to water the poor cactus every day for the next two weeks, water logging and eventually killing poor Little Geralt.

Once Jaskier realizes, he cries to Geralt only a little and has a funeral for the cactus as he throws it away, being the absolute most dramatic about it as possible. Geralt just rolls his eyes at the antics and adds a new plant to the order list to pick up the next time they have their outing to go get groceries.

Jaskier gives Geralt the biggest hug when he realises they’re heading to the plant store and talks excitedly about how determined he is to to not kill Little Geralt the Second; Geralt just rolls his eyes half heartedly but helps Jaskier set up a calendar to keep track of when he’s watered the cactus. This works for about a month before Jaskier gets busy and forgets about his little plant, frying on the windowsill, until Geralt notices about three months later.

“Hey Jask, your cactus is looking a bit… shriveled.”

Jaskier rushes into the living room “NO!” He yells as he slides to a stop on his knees before the dried up little plant “Noooooooo, Little Geralt the Second, nooooo!” he shakes his fists at the ceiling.

Geralt pats his shoulder comfortingly, “At least it lived longer this time.”

Jaskier shakes his head with a sigh. “I’m a terrible plant parent.”

Geralt hmms consolingly, “We can get you another. I’ll try to help you keep better track of it this time.”

Jaskier nods, “Thanks Geralt,” and picks up his dead plant to go throw it out.

Geralt just hmms and pulls up the pick-up list on his phone to add a new little cactus.

Three months later, Little Geralt the Third is thriving in its place on the windowsill, happily soaking up the sun on a bright spring day as a breeze comes through the window. Jaskier dances around the living room, vacuuming and dusting as Geralt cleans the kitchen of the previous night’s actually decent attempt at cooking. Jaskier sings along to ABBA, twirling with his duster mic when disaster strikes poor Little Geralt the Third. Jaskier swirls too close to the window and pops his hip at just the wrong time and the plant wobbles before being pushed off the edge and falls three stories down to the concrete sidewalk down below. Jaskier freezes at the crashing sound and turns to look out the window, staring down at his poor, broken plant.

“Nooooooo, Geralt!” Jaskier yells, and Geralt comes running in from the kitchen, startled by Jaskier’s cry.

“Jask?!”

Jaskier just points down at the sidewalk, falling to his knees “Geralt, I killed him! I killed our son! To ABBA!”

Jaskier sprawls out on the floor dramatically, mourning the fate of poor Little Geralt the Third, who had been thriving wonderfully before going splat on the pavement.

Geralt sits down next to his dramatic roommate and pats his leg, “That one was actually doing pretty well. Maybe we could get another and just find a better place for it to sit?”

Jaskier sniffles and looks through his lashes at Geralt, “Really?”

Geralt nods before being tackled to the ground in a tight hug.

“Thanks Geralt.” Jaskier whispers, nuzzling into his friend.

3. Geralt stood staring into the mirror at the red roots growing into his perfect silver platinum hair. He pouts at it, looking at his hair and then back down at his phone at the pictures of his past beautiful silver hair.

“I can do it, how hard can it be?” he grumbles, glaring back at his roots. He nods to himself before searching different bleaches, toners, and silver dyes that are available at their local beauty shop.

A week and two trips to the store later, Geralt is once again standing in the bathroom and glaring at his roots in the mirror. “How hard can it be...”

Five hours later, Jaskier comes home from the park to Geralt sitting on the couch in a hoodie with the hood on and scrunched up around his face, pouting.

“So how did it go?” he asks.

Geralt grunts in response.

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” comes Jaskier’s exasperated reply, reaching for the hood over the back of the couch.

Geralt growls and catches his hand, yanking and pulling Jaskier over the couch and partially into his lap.

Jaskier laughs and reaches up again with both hands, trying to use one as a distraction. Geralt growls again and tackles him to the floor to pin him, where they tussle around before Jaskier gets an upper hand and pulls the hood off. Geralt freezes as Jaskier stares at him with wide eyes and a growing smile.

“Don’t,” he growls.

Jaskier’s grin turns into giggles, then into full on laughter. “Geralt! Your hair!”

Geralt sits back with a pout, still sitting on Jaskier. “I know, it's horrible.”

“It's bright purple! What did you do!?”

Geralt flushes, “I forgot to set a timer and left the toner in too long. It should wash out and wear off in a few weeks,” he grumbles.

Jaskier continues to giggle. “Well at least it's not permanent, and you bleached the roots pretty well.”

Geralt sighs and nods before laying down on Jaskier for a consolation cuddle. “Yeah, at least there's that.”

4. Geralt’s birthday was coming up and Jaskier was determined to celebrate it, even if they couldn’t go on their customary birthday bar crawl that they had gone on for both of their birthdays since they had been roommates in college. Jaskier wanted to go the extra mile for his bestest friend in the whole world and decided that he was going to make Geralt a homemade cake, icing drizzle and all. Jaskier had scoured the internet for weeks trying to find a cake he thought geralt would like and that he thought he could make with his limited baking abilities. He finally found the perfect recipe for a simple strawberry pound cake that he only had to buy a minimal amount of extra ingredients for.

The day of Geralt's birthday, Jaskier sets up in the kitchen and banishes Geralt to the living room to play his new Witcher game while Jaskier makes the cake.

He starts by setting out everything he needs and getting the beaters set up and his recipe out. He preheats the oven and then gets to work measuring everything out carefully, looking back at his recipe often, so often he doesn’t quite notice that he’s grabbed the salt container instead of the sugar and measures out the three cups the recipe calls for before adding it into the wet ingredients bowl to cream together as stated by the recipe. Jaskier goes about making his cake and mixing it up, carefully pouring it into the disposable cake tin they had bought specially for the event before putting it in the oven and carefully setting a timer on his phone.

He takes a break for a moment to make a cup of tea before cleaning up the mess from the cake and mixing up the simple drizzle icing for the cake.

The timer goes off and Jaskier pokes the cake with a toothpick as he has been directed, frowning at the lopsided cake.

“Is that how it should look?” he mutters to himself, looking at the clean toothpick. “Guess it’s done.”

He pulls the cake out of the oven and sets it on the rack to cool, poking little holes in it with the toothpick to help it cool and absorb some of the icing later.

After 30 minutes, he drizzles the icing over the cake, humming happily to himself.

“Geralt, do you want to do cake now or later?” he calls into the living room. Geralt hmms and stands before replying, “Now.”

Jaskier grins and grabs them plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake with.

Geralt stands beside him at the counter, smiling softly at the cake Jaskier has made him.

“Thanks Jask,” he says softly.

Jaskier grins fully at him. “Happy birthday, Geralt!”

They cut into the cake and serve themselves. Geralt happily eats his, reaching out to get seconds while Jaskier frowns at his slice. “Does this taste right to you?” he takes another bite while Geralt shrugs.

“Tastes fine to me,” he replies, happy to continue eating what his Jaskier has made him.

Jaskier frowns more and looks at his recipe, “I dunno, doesn’t it taste salty?”

Geralt hmms in thought before continuing to eat, “Suppose so, but it’s not too bad.”

Jaskier gasps. “Geralt! No Geralt, stop eating that! I must have mixed up the salt and sugar when I was measuring, oh! It's terrible, I’m so sorry, Geralt,” he whines, looking almost at the verge of tears.

This causes Geralt to pause his gremlin-like cake eating, setting the plate down before pulling his best friend into a tight hug, resting his head against the others. “So maybe you had a booboo with it and it’s a little salty. You know I’m not picky, and it tastes fine and vaguely like strawberries. I’ll eat it anyway, Jask.” he grumbles out.

Jaskier sniffles. “But you deserve a good cake that’s made correctly.”

Geralt hums, “Maybe, but this is something you’ve made for me with all your heart, and I think it tastes alright, and I will keep eating it, because you made it for me and that makes it taste all the sweeter.”

Jaskier sniffles again, squeezing the man in his arms tightly “Oh, you big softy! You don’t have to eat it.”

“But I want to.”

“Fine.” Jaskier sighs, nuzzling the broad chest he’s pressed against. “Love you”

Geralt smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Jaskiers temple. “Love you too, you disaster.”

Jaskier gasps and smacks his chest “You!”

Geralt laughs and grabs his cake before dragging Jaskier to the couch. “Come on, I demand my birthday cuddles.”

Jaskier puffs his cheeks but settles against Geralt on the couch, holding the controller for him “If this is my penance.”

5. Usually Jaskier did the laundry while Geralt did dishes. This was because Jaskier had many a delicate piece in his wardrobe and he did not trust Geralt to treat his clothes the right way if he were to do the laundry. Geralt didn’t care much either way who did the dishes and who did the laundry, as long as the chores ended up done in the end. This was how their kitchen, laundry nook, and part of their living room ended up absolutely covered in bubbles.

They had decided to switch up the chore rotation for the week because the dishes weren’t too bad and Jaskier hadn’t worn any of his ‘delicate’ pieces in the past week and a half, meaning there was nothing of his Geralt could mess up. The switching of chores had unforeseen consequences however, in that neither remembers exactly how to do the new chore, as they hadn’t had to in at least a year. Rather than ask the other for help, both Jaskier and Geralt decided to wing it and try their best.

Jaskier stares down at Geralt, slav squatting, staring at the bubbles that were slowly invading their apartment via the laundry and kitchen.

“So, I couldn’t remember which dish liquid was the one for the dishwasher and put the red one in, which was apparently the wrong choice…… What did you do to create the bubbles in the washer?”

Geralt grunts. “That was the dawn dish soap that we hand wash the alcohol glasses with,” he sighs. “I may have put a full cup of laundry detergent in the washing machine”

Jaskier gasps “A full- Geralt! The entire cup!? That’s at least double the amount you’re supposed to use!”

Geralt pouts. “I couldn’t remember how much,” he grumbles

“You could have asked me!”

This earns Jaskier a raised eyebrow and the stink eye.

“Fair enough,” he giggles. “We should have asked each other when we were confused.”

Geralt nods before standing. “Well I guess we should turn the appliances off before the bubbles get worse… wish me luck”

Jaskier nods and jokingly salutes him. “I’ll remember you dearly.”

Geralt chuckles and shakes his head before wading into the bubbles to stop the dishwasher and washing machine cycles.

A minute later he reappears, covered in bubbles from head to toe, looking like some sort of grumpy snowman. Jaskier laughs at him before Geralt smirks and captures him in a bear hug, causing the man to shriek. “Nooo! Geralt my clothes! Ackkkk!”

Geralt swings him, picking him up slightly. “I think if we let the bubbles settle we can clean up in a little, but we should change first.”

Jaskier pouts “The point of you doing it was so only one of us had to change.”

Geralt gives him a toothy grin, carrying him towards their bedrooms to change. “But you laughed at me, that demands retribution.”

Jaskier just sticks his tongue out at him before being set down in front of his room. “Wanna play Smash while we wait?”

Geralt grins, “What, wanna get wrecked that badly?” he winks to Jaskiers affronted gasp before going in his room to change.

guess I’ll add my tag list huh

@geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskiersvalley @jaskierswolf @dani-dandelino @wherethewordsare @softnerdypeter @thecomfortofoldstorries @dapandapod @lindianaj0nes @kuripon @elliestormfound @veritasrose

Hope y’all enjoyed it >///<

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anachronisticcrab · 3 years

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Percy Being Good To Nico

I love Percy and Nico friendship, but in canon, Percy was such an ass to Nico. So here are some ideas of how that could have been changed in a canon divergent fic

After the Battle of the Labyrinth, when Nico was trying to leave CHB and Percy stopped him, Percy gave Nico his phone number and home address in case of emergency (that’s how he knew where Percy lived)

After Percy’s birthday party that Nico crashed, Sally started getting Nico to come for dinner once a month, which caused Nico and Percy to become a lot closer

This seriously cut back on Percy’s stress because he wasn’t constantly worrying about Nico (like where he was, if he was okay, how many monsters was he fighting now, how much is he eating, where is he sleeping, when was the last time he actually performed any sort of self care, etc)

Pretty quickly once a month dinners became once a week dinners, which usually ended in Nico staying overnight

When Sally and Paul got married, they moved into Paul’s apartment, and Sally gave Nico the address. When he showed up the first Friday for dinner, he almost cried of joy (they had added an extra bed in Percy’s room for Nico to stay in)

Percy throws Nico a surprise party for his birthday every year, and Nico tried baking Percy a cake for his birthday one year. Suffice to say, it didn’t end well, but Percy still ate it with a smile on his face because his little brother made it for him

After that though, Percy and Nico agreed that Percy and Sally would stick to the baking, and Nico could stick to making meals

They had a two hour conversation after the Battle of Manhattan to talk about the Styx thing. It ended with a tearful apology from Nico, and a tearful hug from Percy. Now the two of them have a conversation twice a month about their feelings and bullshit that’s happened

Percy making Nico watch an endless stream of Disney movies (Finding Nemo, Moana, The Little Mermaid, basically anything that goes along with the sea)

When Percy finds out about Nico’s love of pirates, he gets Nico to watch all the Pirates of the Caribbean movies with him

Percy feeds Nico bullshit facts about the modern century (ie. the Soviet Union renamed themselves the Cotton Candy Brigade and then disbanded, but citizens of former soviet countries are still called Munchkins)

Nico feeds Percy bullshit facts about both the 30’s and Italy (ie. Italy is known to its citizens as the Peninsula of Cazzo, and that they didn’t have cutlery or plates in the 30’s)

Sometime between botl and tlo, Nico’s feelings for Percy morphed from romantic to brotherly

When Nico had to lie to Percy about who he was in SoN, it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Percy knew that he knew Nico, and it crushed Nico that Percy couldn’t remember him, and that he couldn’t tell Percy anything. He hadn’t seen his big brother in almost a year, and now Percy didn’t remember him, and he couldn’t remind him

When they saw each other again on the Argo 2 before Percy and Annabeth fell into Tartarus, you cannot convince me that Percy didn’t give Nico a hug

Nico genuinely didn’t have a crush on Percy by HoO, he thought of Percy as a brother. He was still really ashamed of being gay, and he loved Percy (just in a very different way). That’s why Jason wasn’t sure if Nico still liked Percy or not after the Cupid thing. He could tell that Nico was ashamed and loved Percy, but he didn’t know that Nico just loved Percy in a different way

Nico got super ticked off at Percy when he said ‘are you sure you can do this’ to the shadow travel thing at the end of HoH mostly because Percy has a bad habit of treating Nico like he’s still that ten year old geek from Westover Hall

Like really. Everyone else around Nico sees a terrifying teenager who’s summoned army’s of the undead and destroys his enemies in ten seconds flat, but Percy just sees a kid with big eyes infodumping about his favourite card game wearing armour that’s three sizes too big telling him that he’s scared

It pisses Nico off because he’s not a little kid anymore, Percy! he can take care of himself! he isn’t gonna break the second he goes to fight!

Also, by extension, Nico and Tyson are siblings and Hazel and Percy are siblings (which adds Frank into their family, cause he’s Nico’s age and dating Hazel). So when Reyna, Nico, and Hedge were caught by Leah and Dakota on the boat, Nico was super excited to see his little brother again. He wasn’t even that upset when Tyson pulled him into a hug (even though he hates hugs)

When they see each other again at CHB after the Battle, they give each other a big hug. Percy tells Nico’s that he was so worried he’d never see his baby brother again, and Nico proceeds to make fun of Percy for waking up Gaia with a nosebleed

Also, after Reyna and Nico’s hug, Percy pulls Nico aside and is like ‘what’s the deal with you and Reyna’ and Nico’s like ‘she’s my sister now’ and Percy goes ‘oh, okay, cool. bring her around for family dinner next weekend’

Same with Jason, Rachel, and Meg, too. Percy’s always down for more adoptive family being around

After Nico came out to Percy and Annabeth, and told Percy that he’s gay, Percy went to the infirmary to talk to Nico. He wasn’t allowed in at first, but he waited outside for three hours so he could speak with Nico

Of course, this led to a three hour discussion, which involved a lot of apologies from both of them, and a lot of shared stories, and laughs, and a few tears. Percy told Nico he shouldn’t be ashamed of who he is, and he should’ve told Percy sooner

When Percy went home for the school year, and to see his parents again, Nico joined him. There were lots of tears, hugging and blue cookies. Then Sally grounded them both for staying away for so long and worrying the hell out of her and Paul

When Percy sees Nico and Will interact, he makes it his goal to make them a couple. He and Jason spend hours plotting ways to get them together

Whenever Nico’s away from home for any amount of time, Percy gives Nico a big hug, ruffles his hair, and complains that he stayed away

When Nico first moves to New Rome for university, Will’s living in Massachusetts for Harvard Med School, so he moves in with Jason and Percy for a few years while he gets a degree in linguistics and anthropology

Btw, Annabeth thought Percy would distract her when she was trying to study, so she moved in with Piper and Reyna, and Percy moved in with Jason. It should’ve only taken her 4 years to get her masters in architecture, but the university offers a bunch of history, math, and design classes that she took because they were really interesting (it ended up taking her 6 years)

That’s all for now. I might make another post about this cause I live for Percy and Nico friendship. Btw,, DO NOT tag as P*rcico. This is purely familial and platonic headcanons

#percy jackson #nico di angelo #hazel lavesque #frank zhang #piper mclean #jason grace #annabeth chase #leo valdez #will solace #reyna ramirez arellano #reyna avila ramirez arellano #pjo #hoo #og post #solangelo #percabeth #sally jackson #paul blofis #estelle blofis

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sxfterhearts · 3 years

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53. [4:07 pm]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: fluff fluff fluff, baker!au, baker!yugyeom, exchange student!y/n

➳ word count: 2,040 words

➳ summary: “Sit down, I’ll get it.”

➳ author's note: rach-stop-mentioning-food-in-every-single-timestamp-challenge: failed. just the thought of baker!yugs and bread has me feeling all soft and gooey inside. which is why i whipped this one up! it has been a phat minut since i last wrote so yea :”) (also i should mention italicised are korean!!) regardless i hope this will help brighten up your day a little!! sending many warm hugs xx

Your phone screeched from its resting place on the other side of your room, signalling the start of your day. It was strategically placed atop your wooden, old-fashioned dresser, with the sole purpose of motivating you to get out of bed and turn the damn thing off.

With a groan, you stretched all four of your limbs, releasing a satisfied yawn as your joints popped after a good nights’ rest.

It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it sneaked past the cracks the half-open blinds, painting your tiny studio apartment with lazy signs of life.

You dragged your sleep-ridden body to the dresser, still reluctant to start the day after what was an immensely taxing Friday night. Having just arrived in this bustling Korean city a mere two weeks ago, you were somewhat proud of yourself for landing a part-time job to support yourself when you started your semester of exchange. The only problem was, it happened to be a bartending job in a rowdier part of Seoul, commonly patronised by sleazy middle-aged men and their younger lady companions.

It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, anyways. Your Korean was still very much at an elementary level, which didn’t prove to be a hindrance in the bar you worked at. Most of the drinks were named in English, and the owner of the bar, a surprisingly kind, motherly lady in her sixties, paid you well above the minimum wage.

Still, it was your second Friday shift ever, and it clearly took its toll on you. Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you cringed. The eyebags under your eyes were so dark it could’ve easily been mistaken as a smoky-eye look gone wrong; your lips were awfully chapped and an alarming shade of red, while a few nasty pimples threatened to break through the surface of your skin.

In other words, you looked like a wreck.

Grabbing your phone, you checked the time. Ten minutes past four. Oh no, you winced internally. You were going to be very late if you didn’t leave your house in the next fifteen minutes. As though an internal switch flipped on, you turned the shower to full blast and stepped inside, sucking in your teeth as the cold water splashed against your skin.

In eight minutes flat, you were tugging on your beat-up sneakers and dashing for the elevator in your only pair of clean, non-alcohol-stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt that you conveniently picked off the pile of dry clothes on your sofa. You jammed the down button a couple of times, all while checking the time on your phone.

“Shit,” You cursed under your breath. 4:19. You couldn’t wait any longer.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you sprinted down the fire escape and did not stop for a single breath until you reached the final destination: a charming little bakery across the road from your apartment.

Rushing to the bakery just before closing time had become a habit for you. Amidst the chaos of moving and finding your feet in this new city, the bakery and its never-ending stream of patrons were your source of stability. Not only was it less busy and crowded during the evening, but it was also much easier for you to snag a couple of good bargains in the form of randomly-packaged, discounted breads.

The fact that the cute baker was the last one in store and in charge of closing up was just an added bonus.

A high-pitched, annoying chime broke him out of his daze. With a groan, Yugyeom straightened his slumped figure and stretched his arms above his head, releasing a satisfied sigh as his backbone cracked.

It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it flooded through the drawn, white lacey curtains, painting his grandfather’s bakery with calm and relief; a peaceful conclusion. The end of daylight was drawing near.

He wiped a stray trail of saliva off the corner of his mouth before sucking on a mint. Checking the clock that hang above rack upon empty rack which usually contained baked goods, his palms inexplicably grew clammy.

4:27, Yugyeom mused. He shook his head to clear his spiralling thoughts. Keep it together, dummy. Just because she came the past few days doesn’t mean that she’ll come today too. She has her own life, her own friends, maybe even a boyfri-

Oh?

Just as his mind was about to veer off course and crash into the thorny garden of unrequited love, Yugyeom caught sight of a blurry figure at the corner of his eyes. Intrigued, he stood up straight and watched as you appeared in front of the bakery’s double doors. For a few seconds, you simply clutched your knees and huffed and puffed. Yugyeom could barely stop the shit-eating grin that split across his face and had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to avoid looking like a fool.

Then, you did the unexpected. From the back pocket of your jeans, you pulled out your lip balm and applied it on your lips, using the bakery’s glass window as a mirror. At that, Yugyeom threw his head back in a hysterical fit of laughter.

It was hard for him to explain the feeling in his chest, really. The first time you walked through the doors of the bakery, eyes twinkling with pure wonder and amazement as you browsed the array of baked goods like how a girl would admire a display of diamond rings, he was screwed. You captivated his interest as you fumbled for the right number of coins to pay for your discounted breads, tongue stuck out and head tilted adorably while doing so. He gave you, the damsel in distress, a helping hand, by laying all your coins out on the counter and ordering them from lowest to highest value. Probably not the most helpful of gestures, but Yugyeom liked to tell himself that he was performing his civic duty by welcoming a visitor of Korea through non-verbal currency explanations and an introduction to the locals’ favourite breads, pastries and drinks. That evening, the two of you sat on the high table by the window, slowly savouring melon breads, injeolmi toasts, ang butter or red bean butter breads and an assortment of cream cheese breads. While the breads were wonderfully fluffy and the sweetness was at an acceptable level, Yugyeom instructed you to wash it down with an iced Americano.

Since then, the mere thought of the bakery, going to the bakery, its breads and pastries, its drinks and Yugyeom coated your insides with sweetness. Admittedly, the reason why you kept visiting the bakery was to create more memories with Yugyeom and ride the amazing sugar rush you felt whenever you were around him.

After rearranging your hair for the nth time, you bravely pushed open the doors and walked in at 4:29pm.

“Hello!” You called out in Korean as you waved at him, a wide smile plastered on your lips. There was an obvious language barrier (you with your kindergarten-level Korean and him with his Game of Thrones-standard of English), but it wasn’t obvious. The two of you came up with creative ways to break it down.

“Hi Y/N! Sit down. I’ll get it.” Yugyeom answered in English, emerging from behind the counter with his trusty English-Korean dictionary and a matcha latte he prepared in anticipation of your arrival. He walked towards you with an air of confidence, reminding you of a model in a fashion show despite wearing his typical slacks and white button-up, with sleeves rolled up and cross drop-earrings adorning his ears. Yugyeom quickly set the items down before pulling out a chair, nodding towards it to encourage you to sit.

You muffled a giggle at his gentlemanly actions, but complied, nonetheless. You glanced over to the boy, sipping on the creamy drink as he retrieved two large plates from the cake fridge. Sure, the assortment of cakes should have been the main attraction, but your eyes drifted and settled on the stern look of concentration on his face and his prominent collarbones peeking out of his shirt. Unbuttoned, you assumed, as he was going to be off work soon.

You were halfway through the drink when Yugyeom returned to the table. He noticed this and didn’t pass up the opportunity to tease you about it. “Is it really good?”

“Thirsty. I just woke up.” You admitted, cheeks heating up in slight embarrassment.

Yugyeom’s wholehearted laughter filled the entire bakery.

“H-hey! Bad boy… Mean…”

“No, I…” Yugyeom stifled another round of laughter as he tried to pull himself together. “Cute. You wake up, come to see me in bread house.”

“Not ‘bread house’, ‘bakery’.”

“Ah, thank you. Bakery.” He tested the word on his lips, getting used to the pronunciation. “Bakery…”

“What are these?”

Yugyeom handed you a small cake fork while taking a seat. “Here. This plate is for tarts, and this one is for cakes. The tarts have the same filling – custard. But we use different fruits, like strawberries, berries, grapes and peaches. Whatever’s in season, really. Strawberries and cherry tarts are really popular in winter. Try some!” He reverted back in Korean whenever he was explaining, which was a great opportunity for you to pick up new vocabulary.

It was also a fantastic opportunity to try delicious pastries. You rotated through the entire plate painted in shades of pinks and green, taking a bite of each tart. Yugyeom just sat there, head in his palms, and admired the slight changes in your expression whenever you tried a new flavour. As creepy as it sounds, watching you eat the food he prepared was gradually becoming his favourite pastime.

“Cherry! That one is the best! It’s…” You quickly reached for the dictionary, softly muttering to yourself as you thumbed through the pages. “Here, acid. Acid, not too sweet. The strawberry one too.” Your eyes crinkled at their edges as they met his intrigued orbs, proudly smiling at yourself for learning a new word today.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘acidity’. ‘Acid’ is for chemistry.”

“Acidity?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Yugyeom reached over, his huge palm caressing the top of your head before ruffling your hair. You pouted and feigned annoyance, all while your heart squeezed and pounded away in your chest.

“Hey…” You protested weakly.

Yugyeom’s hand retreated. He placed it on the table, right next to your smaller ones. The distance between your hands taunted him; tempted him to close the gap and intertwine your fingers with his. Honestly, Yugyeom wasn’t used to this; wasn’t used to feeling like his insides were going to explode. His mouth opened and closed several times as he pondered his next move, wondering whether it would overstep your boundaries.

But then you stared at him in anticipation with your beautiful brown orbs, innocent and confused, as your lips wrapped around the straw of your matcha latte. Your gaze asked him an unspoken question, urging him on.

Yugyeom dragged your chair closer his, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from you. He rested both of his palms on top of your knees, gaining your full attention. “I like…” Yugyeom paused, catching his bottom lip between his pearly whites as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “I like this time with you.”

The soft giggle was purely involuntary, you swore to him afterwards. Yet, as you watched his expression flicker into one of panic, you were quick to cast out his worries. “No, no! Don’t get me wrong. Did you mean, you like spending time with me?”

“Ah, I was trying to be romantic. Stupid English…” Yugyeom cursed under his breath in Korean, unaware that you were familiar with the word ‘romantic’ due to the hours you spent (wasted) binging Korean dramas. “Yes, I do.” He said while squeezing your kneecaps in affirmation.

You had to remind yourself time and time again to keep calm in the presence of this charming man and his magical hands. “Me too, Yugyeom. You’re my favourite time of the day.”

Needless to say, your afternoon ritual continued for weeks and months to come.

76 notes · View notes

twilight-love-nochu · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction To neglecting their family while away (Hyung Line)

JIN (Kim Seokjin)

When you started to date Jin you knew what you got yourself into. Jin is a busy man always preparing for the next comeback or going on tour. He was living his dream and you knew how much it meant to him so you didn’t complain. You felt quite proud of him actually since even with his busy schedule he usually never forgets to take care of his family and spends as much time with your three year old and you as possible.

Though on his current tour it was quite different. For a long time he didn’t call you two and barely ever answered your calls and you were getting quite tired of it. Yes, he was busy but you were just asking for 5 minutes, enough time to check on each other and for him to talk to his son.

It had already been 4 months since he left and your son was missing him terribly. He was starting to be uncontrollable, always throwing tantrums and never wanting to go to sleep demanding for his father to sing him to sleep.

Today was one of those nights again. Your usually smiley son was currently crying at the top of his lungs and kicking when you tried to come near him. At this point you were fed up with it and didn’t have any energy to deal with it anymore.

You left your son’s room and went to the living room were you left your phone. You snatched it from the table it was laying on and FaceTimed your husband over and over again determined to have him answer the phone, which he did after the fifth call.

“What is it?! You can’t just blow up my phone like this I’m about to go to the rehearsals and I’m already late, Y/N.” You could tell that he was pissed by the way he growled at you. But at this point you were probably more irritated than him so it didn’t faze you.

“I wouldn’t have to if you actually answered when I called… or maybe even called yourself.” You retorted with a fake smile.

“You know I’m busy, I don’t always have time. Like right now actually.”

“Seems like lately even when you do have time you prefer spending it with anything or anyone other than your family.” You didn’t even know were that came from and the words surprised even you but you weren’t going to show him how startled you were. “Whatever I just called because your son misses you very much and is making life very hard for me right now so talk to him.” You said while going back into your son’s room and handing the phone to your son who was still crying, though much calmer now.

As soon as he say his father on the screen you could see his eyes light up.

“Hi buddy!” you heard Jin say as you took the opportunity to go to the kitchen and heat up your food as you didn’t have any time to eat before since you were too busy taking care of the troublesome son. You also took the time to calm down from the fight with your husband.

After a few minutes you went back into your son’s room to check on him only to find him fast asleep with your phone on his lap. You smiled at how cute he looked before walking over to him. You payed him down in his bed, tucked him in and pressed a kiss to his temple before taking the phone and walking out of the room making sure to close the door carefully behind you.

“Y/N?” The voice coming from your phone startled you a bit, you didn’t realize that he was still on the call. When you pointed the camera at your face Jin started talking again: “He grew a lot since the last time I saw him. I didn’t realize how long it has been.” He said with a sad smile on his face problably trying to start small talk with you.

You chuckled bitterly at his words “Yeah, talk to you whenever.” You rolled your eyes.

“Wai-“ you didn’t let him finish before ending the call. You really didn’t feel like talking to him after your fight.

SUGA (Min Yoongi)

Yoongi has always been a distant person. He often missed calls or forgot to text back, or even canceled some dates. In the beginning of your relationship it made you doubt his feelings for you quite often but you soon came to realize that he wasn’t being distant on purpose. He is just naturally introverted and very serious and concentrated when it comes to his work.

What helped you realize that we’re many actions of his, like when he came to you when he needed inspiration, or when he sometimes came over to your apartment that was further away from his studio than the dorms fully knowing that you would be asleep when he came and that he had to leave even before you woke up and when you realized that and asked him about it he simply replied that he only felt completely relaxed when he was with you, or simply that he trusted you with his beloved dog Hollie when he was on tour.

Tour was the only time where you two were completely apart from each other and the only way for you to communicate was through the phone. This made tours the hardest times in your relationship, as your communication would be at its minimum. Of course you missed your boyfriend very much when he was away but you trusted Yoongi and knew that if he didn’t call he was just immersed in his work and stressed, you didn’t want to be a distraction from his work since you know how important it was to him.

Anyway you soon got used to his lifestyle and you two started to make changes in both of your lives so that you were both happy. You started hanging out at his studio more often - obviously not distracting him but doing your own thing -, soon you two even moved in together and later on he married you.

Now here you are 5 years later and not much has changed. Yoongi is still as focused on his career and you don‘t mind much, you miss him, but you were used to it by now… but your daughter was not.

Your daughter was only 4 years old so she didn’t understand why her daddy had to be away from her for so long. She is the biggest Daddy‘s Girl out there so she also didn’t like the idea of him going around the world to make other girls happy very much.

The 4-year-old has been feeling a little bit under the weather for a couple of days now and it broke your heart to see your usual bundle of happiness in that state. You thought long about how to make her feel better and came to the conclusion that talking to her beloved dad was the only medicine that would help.

You pondered for a very long time wether you should call him or not since you knew how grumpy he could get when he got interrupted while working but when your daughter even refused to eat you knew you had to.

You went into your room to start the call because you didn’t know how Yoongi would react after picking up the phone and you didn’t want him to snap at you in front of your 4-year-old.

Sure enough Yoongi seemed pissed after answering your second call. “Babe, I’m working, you know I don’t like getting interrupted.” Yes he was scolding you but you couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in your belly upon hearing his voice after so long.

“Oh come on, you’re always working Yoongi and we haven’t talked in so long.” You pouted a little.

“I’m busy Y/N, I’m working on a new song right now and I really don’t want to forget what I had in mind.” He doesn’t budge, making you sigh.

“Yoongi, we talked about this. When you’re working you tend to get too immersed in it and you forget to call. The last time we talked was more than a month ago and the only reason I even know you’re alive and well is because I talk to your members. I just want one call once in a while even if it’s for a few minutes. Y/D/N misses you a lot… and I do too.” You add shyly.

That’s when you see a soft smile for on your Husband’s lips. “ You’re Right Y/N. I’m sorry. I guess I do get too immersed in my work. I didn’t even realize how I miss you two too.”

“You really need to take a break once in a while babe.” You tell him.

”I know. I will. How’s Y/D/N?” You can see his eyes light up just at the thought of her, making you chuckle.

“Not so good, she hasn’t been nearly as cheerful as she usually is. And I just tried to feed her but she keeps rejecting any kind of food. I think she just misses you a lot. You know I’m used to not talking to you that much but she isn’t.” You tell him honestly and his face falls remarkably.

“You should be used to me neglecting you either, Y/N.” He says sadness laced in his voice. “I’ll make it up to you I promise. For now let me talk to my Princess.”

You walk into the living room with your phone in your hand to find said princess lying on the sofa while watching her favorite show on the TV.

“Baby, Look who’s on the phone!” You say with a cheerful tone.

As sulky as she was before she still looked over to you and as soon as she saw her father on the phone the Y/D/N that you knew and loved cake back.

“Appa!!!”

You stayed on the phone for almost 2 hours during which your daughter happily told him about everything he had missed since his last phone call and he even got her to eat before she passed out on your lap. You were relieved that she was back to her old bubbly self.

Surprisingly, the call didn’t end after you put Y/D/N to bed like you would have thought. Instead Yoongi even insisted on staying on the phone to talk to you until you fell asleep too.

J-Hope (Jung Hoseok)

Your husband Hoseok was a superstar and his popularity was growing day by day. His fan base exceeded national boundaries so naturally he was gone a lot. Be it for a world tour, schedules in other countries or a collaboration with a western artist.

This time he had a 3 months tour all over America and had to stay there a little longer for the promotion of his new song with the newest big female artist in the USA right now.

Though you knew that you had to share your s/o with more than 30 Mio people, you didn’t mind because you knew that in the end you were the one he was married to and had two children with. Plus, you were an army too, so how could you be jealous knowing how important he was to them and vise versa.

Getting jealous because of his popularity would be stupid anyways because Hoseok was one of the most social and charismatic people you ever got to know, so you were sure that even if he wasn’t famous he’d still be gaining the attention of many people. But that wasn’t a bad thing, after all if he wasn’t that outgoing you doubt that you would have gotten to know each other.

So yeah, you were pretty proud of your husband for being so successful in the thing he loved to do. And when he was away you showed your support by watching every show and interview he did. It even became a family tradition for you and your son and daughter to gather in front of the TV every time you knew he was going to be on.

All three of you loved to see him goofing around on screen since lately that was the only way you got to see him.

His new collab song came out a week ago so he was in the middle of promotion and since the song was at the top of the charts a lot of shows demanded his appearance. So every day he was juggling between schedules, went back to the hotel very late and was too exhausted to call. During the preparation of the sind he also was drowning in work. J-Hope was a perfectionist so he stayed at the studio day and night in company of the singer he was making the song with, so every time you called he would tell you that he was busy working with her.

Now, as said before, you weren’t the jealous time at all but seeing how much time he spent with her and how much you were neglected in the process really didn’t sit right with you. And the fact that you saw how well (maybe even too well) they got along with each other on shows didn’t help. You knew fully well that Hoseok wouldn’t cheat on you and you couldn’t help the jealousy that was growing inside of you. You thought to yourself that you only felt that way because you hadn’t seen nor talked to him in so long.

Even so, you didn’t want to let it show in front of your kids since you didn’t want them to think that there was anything wrong with their parents, so you continued to watch the shows and interviews with them every day suppressing the feeling and casting a fake smile on your face.

You thought you were doing a great job at faking it but your son was old enough to notice that there was something wrong with you and he was clever enough to figure out the reason after seeing your smile fall a little every time you saw Hobi laugh with his new friend. He also noticed your general mood deteriorate more and more every time his father didn’t answer your calls.

As he watched you one day try to call your husband once more and sigh when he didn’t pick up your son had enough. He picked up his own phone and opted for messaging you seeing as he knew his father wasn’t going to answer anyways.

You’re an asshole. Hope you know that.

Even though he felt bad for cursing out his father his anger was bigger.

As expected, his father didn’t didn’t respond right away, in fact he didn’t see the message until 3 hours later but as soon as he saw it his heart sank and he immediately called his son racking his brain about what he could have done for his son to suddenly have such a bad image of him.

The 13 year old answered the phone with an eye roll. “Oh so your phone does work. Good to know.”

“Buddy? You alright?” Was all Hoseok said, making the young boy roll his eyes yet again.

“You would know if you called more often… or as all.” Hobi was sure he heard a hint of sadness hiding behind all the sass he definitely inherited from you.

“I’m sorry, bud. I just have so much to do that I barely ever have any time on my own and when I do it’s already the middle of the night over there.” Excuses, excuses is what your son thought.

“Yeah because you’re always with that other woman.” Your son replied now letting his guards down and letting his sadness show. On the other end of the line Hoseok was shocked by his son’s words. His son didn’t think he was cheating on you, did he?

“W-What do you mean?” Hobi asked carefully.

“Every time mom calls you you say that you’re busy with her. You’re making mom sad And I don’t like seeing her like that.”

Hobi sighed, “ Listen to me, okay? I love your mother very very much and I would never even think of doing something that would make me lose her and you and your sister in the process. I didn’t realize I made it seem as if I was hurting your mother on purpose. I wasn’t.”

“Tell that to her then. She acts like there’s nothing wrong but I can see that she’s just faking.” Although still worried for his mom he was actually very glad to hear his father say that.

He was just like you and preferred to hide his feelings so he would never let it show but he was actually very scared that his parents would split up.

“I will, kid. Thanks for making me aware of it.” He was very proud and happy to know that his son was turning into a real man protecting his mother.

“I’ll call her now. I’ll talk to you and your sister later, okay? Love and miss you lots.” He added

“I love you too, dad. Come home soon. Oh and dad?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry I called you an asshole.” Your son said bashfully, making his father laugh.

“It’s okay, but this better be the last time you talk to me like that.” Hobi answered semi-seriously.

“Yes, sir.” On that note they ended the call and Hobi didn’t miss a moment to call you.

RM (Kim Namjoon)

We all know that Namjoon is a very serious man when it comes to his work. I mean, he has to be, he is the leader of one of the most successful groups right now.

Off stage, Namjoon is also the best husband and father to your daughter. Always there for you two when you need it and when you don’t, the best support that you could ask for.

But with being the leader of BTS and of your family comes great responsibility, and as a result great stress. Between having to overview every schedule they have (and they have a lot), making sure everyone is Problem free and healthy both physically and mentally, making their songs, making sure everyone learns the songs and choreography and that the performances are perfect, playing the translator when they are overseas and having to take care or you and your 6 year old daughter there was not much time to work on his sanity. Don’t get me wrong, he loved doing all that, it was just… a bit much at times. Like now.

They had been on tour for 5 months now and they’re last break was too long ago to remember, meaning that Namjoon had been working non-stop for far too long. And he was already working on their next album that was supposed to come out soon after the tour, giving him extra work. He had no time to go visit the cities, no time to just hang out with the members and definitely no time to call you, and even though he was trying to not let it all get to him, it definitely was. And the fact that he had trouble with the song he was currently writing was not helping him very much.

In Korea, you were helping your daughter finalize the present she was making for her father for Father’s Day today.

She might be just 6 but she definitely had inherited Joon's incredible intelligence and creativity. That is why her present couldn’t be just a drawing of you three standing next to a house with a sun in the corner of the drawing.

She insisted on making an album full of pictures of her and her daddy with small notes and descriptions telling him why she loves him and her favorite memories of him.

She just started school so she couldn’t write very well but she still wanted to do it herself so right now you were just dictating her the words for the last note.

“All done mommy!” She exclaimed with a big toothless grin.

“Yay well done girlie! Shall we call daddy now and show him?”

Hearing your words, you saw her eyes light up. She didn’t waste a second before dashing to get your phone and coming back to where she left the album, making you giggle at her excitement.

You started the FaceTime call but went to stand outside of the frame right after. As mature as she wanted to act, your daughter was only 6 so you knew that Namjoon not making it to the ‘Bring you father to school day’ that her school was organizing for Father’s Day

As soon as she saw her father’s face she started beaming.

“Hi daddy!! Look what I ma-“ but her excitement was cut short by an annoyed voice.

“Y/D/N didn’t I tell you to stop taking people’s phones?” You were shocked by your husband's words and even more by his tone. Never has he ever spoken to her like that.

“But I-“ your daughter tried to explain herself but was cut off by her father once again.

“No buts young lady. You’re daddy’s busy, I can’t always talk when you want to. That’s why you should always wait for me to call or for your mother to call me. Now put the phone back where you found it.” And he ended the call.

You could see the tears forming in your daughter’s eyes as she kept on staring at the screen her usually loving father was just seconds ago.

Without a word you went over to where she was sitting and took her in your arms where she started sobbing.

You really didn’t know what was up with Namjoon. Usually even when he was majorly stressed he never talked like that. He was the most pacifist person you had ever seen and hated arguments. And seeing his little mini-me usually helped him destress.

It took you an hour to calm your daughter down and she finally fell asleep in your arms. You carried her into her room and put her in bed, careful not to wake her up.

With a heavy sigh you went back into the living room and retrieved your phone from the table. You took a picture of the album, sent it to your husband and wrote: Y/D/N made this for you. It’s a photo album with all the best memories she was with you. She was already upset enough that you can’t make it to “Bring Your Father To School Day” but you had to be pissy to her when she just wanted to show you her present? I know you probably are very stressed out because of everything and I understand it and I respect it. That’s why I refrain on calling you too often, but the one time I do, for Y/D/N sake btw, you react like that. That‘s really not cool, Namjoon.

Namjoon read the message you left him, and only then did it down on him how awful he was to your daughter and guilt started building in side of him at a rapid speed.

“Fuck.“

191 notes · View notes

fallen-gravity · 3 years

Text

Sixty Candles

On June 15th, 1972, Stan Pines celebrates his eighteenth birthday in the back seat of his car.

or, how Stan Pines spent his birthday throughout the years.

Notes: Here is my very loose interpretation for Week 4 of @stanuary!The prompt for this week was Future with the subcategory Old, and I decided to play around with the concept of birthdays! This was a lot of fun to explore and I hope you have a ton a of fun reading! :D

AO3

At exactly midnight on June 15th, 1972, Stan Pines celebrates his eighteenth birthday in the backseat of his car.

It’s not ideal, and nothing like how he thought he had it planned from the moment he turned sixteen, but he supposes he should be thanking his lucky stars he’s able to celebrate at all. His Ma, bless her caring heart, must’ve snuck some emergency funds into his duffle bag the moment she saw Pa reaching for it before he kicked Stan to the curb.

Stan supposes that she probably intended for that money to be spent on emergency rations and gas money, but what she doesn’t know probably won’t kill her. He also supposes that he probably should’ve gotten himself a cake, but cakes are messy and he has no means of cleaning it up, so a bottle of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes will have to suffice.

He pops open the bottle with ease, and takes a large swig.

“Happy birthday, y’ asshole” he says to nobody, slamming the bottle down onto his car dashboard with more force than intended. “Hope you’re livin’ it up at home with your fancy expensive pizza and two layer cake you’ll never be able to finish on your own” He leans back against his chair, propping his arms smugly behind his head. “An’ I hope the guilt is eating you alive” he slams his hand down on one of his armrests, and reaches for the bottle on his dashboard for another swig.

Just six months ago- not even a year, just six months ago, Stan and Ford had been talking about what it’d be like to share their first drink together. They’d talked about getting absolutely wasted at the pub down the block, followed by walking to the boardwalk to ride the coaster until it made them both sick.

It wasn’t much, but it was theirs.

Stan chokes, and he isn’t quite sure if it’s the alcohol or his emotions.

“Fuck,” he coughs, and stumbles out of the car for some fresh air. In between his coughs and splutters, he takes a sharp inhale of the cool nighttime air to steady his breathing. He sighs deeply, and pulls out the pack of cigarettes from his ratty coat pocket.

He lights one up, and leans against his car to lose himself in his thoughts as he wordlessly watches the cigarette smoke dissipate into the starry night sky. Stan gets too distracted by the sight and accidentally burns his first all the way down to his fingertips, and hisses in pain as he stumbles to light a new one.

No matter. He stomps on the burnt remains with his shoe, and grinds his emotions into the ground with them.

~~~~~~~

On June 15th, 1978, Stan Pines celebrates his twenty-fourth birthday in prison.

“Pines!” An officer shouts, whacking at the cell door with his baton. “Wake up. You’ve got a visitor”

Stan sits up in the cheap cot, groggily rubbing at his eyes. “Wassat?”

The officer’s keys jingle as he clicks Stan’s cell door open. “You’ve got a visitor. He insisted it was important, so we’re giving you ten minutes to talk.”

Stan’s been to jail enough times that he knows that when someone says something’s important, it really just means that they bribed their way through security so they can talk to Stan before the designated visitor hours.

But who could possibly be willing to risk getting arrested just to talk to him before eleven in the morning? Every name that comes to mind is either on the run, already in jail, or…much worse. Anybody foolish enough to try is either out of their mind, or…someone who genuinely wants to see him.

But…who could possibly want to see him? After everything he’s done, after everyone he’s stolen from, who could possibly be left that trusts him enough to bribe a police officer for his company? The police officer happens to walk Stan by the surveillance room, and he notices his page-a-day calendar is torn to June 15th.

Stan’s heart nearly stops in his chest.

It-It couldn’t be, could it?

Six years of silence, and Ford wants to break it like this? Is this some kind of joke? What kind of idiot does Ford take him for, thinking that now is an appropriate time to make amends? After all the times Stan tried writing, or calling, or even trying to get a hold of him through Ma, now is the time that Ford finally agreed to reconvening?

Pah. He had his chance the past five times Stan tried to pass on a happy birthday. He doesn’t care if it’ll land him ten more years in prison, the moment he sees his twin brother’s stupid face he’s spitting in it.

As Stan rounds the corner to the visitation room, though, all of his anger disappears into thin air, and if it weren’t for the officer pushing him along, he’d turn heel and sprint the other way.

“My friend!” Rico cheers with a forced smile on his face. He’s holding a large box in his hand. “It’s so good to see you again!” He takes a seat at the small table, rhythmically tapping on the box.

Stan swallows hard, but takes a seat across from him. “It’s, uh…” he squirms uncomfortably, unsure if he’s allowed to address him by name. “…good to see you too, buddy. What, uh, what are you doing here?”

Rico laughs heartily. “What, a man cannot visit his best friend on his birthday?” He flips open the box he brought with him, and Stan flinches when he spins it around towards him. To his surprise, it…looks like a perfectly normal birthday cake.

“Would you mind giving us a moment alone?” Rico flashes a grin towards the police guard behind Stan. “I would like to sing my dear childhood friend happy birthday, but I’ve always been very shy about the sound of my voice. I promise I will be quick”.

Childhood friend?

The officer squints at the birthday cake in the box for a moment. “Fine.” He says. “You get two minutes. And I’m staying right outside the door to prevent anything funny from happening”

“Of course! You have my word,” Rico grins, placing his hand over his heart. The officer says nothing, and for the briefest of moments Stan’s convinced he sees right through Rico’s bullshit and he’ll let Stan slip quietly back into his cell. But after those brief moments pass, the officer shrugs as he closes the door behind him.

Rico’s fake-plastered grin slips from his face the moment the officer is out of sight.

“Alright, listen here, you walking stain upon the Earth,” Rico slips easily into Spanish. “You think you’re safe behind these bars? You think my boys still won’t burn this place to the ground to collect what you rightfully owe us? You’re gravely mistaken. We have eyes everywhere, in every corner of the globe. And don't you dare even think about running off somewhere else under a new name, Stanley Pines, because we’ll find you, one way or another”

Rico stands from his chair and pushes the cake box towards Stan. “As soon as those guards declare you a free man, we’ll be waiting for you on the outside.” He grips Stan’s shoulder as he heads towards the door. “It really is such a shame. I loved you like a brother. But you know what they say, don’t you?” He places his hand on the door, and glances back towards him. “The good ones always die young”

Before Stan has time to respond, Rico slips his fake smile back on and opens the door. “Happy birthday, my friend,” he says, slipping back into English and speaking loud enough for the officer waiting outside to hear. “I hope you enjoy your cake”

Stan swallows, defensively bringing his hands to his throat, before he carefully inspects the cake in front of him. It looks normal, as far as he’s concerned, just a standard chocolate cake with “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STAN!” inked across its surface in bright red frosting.

He contemplates. On one hand, he hasn’t had any real food outside of the slop they’ve been feeding him here for the past three months, and he’s never been one to turn away free cake.

On the other, knowing Rico…

Stan shutters. He stands to his feet, takes the cake box, and throws the whole thing into the trash can in the corner of the room.

He’d rather starve to death than risk being poisoned.

~~~~~~

Stan stopped keeping track of his age the day he started going by his brother’s name.

Sure, it wasn’t even close to being the first time he had to live under a new name. You do it enough times and you’re able to come up with an entire life story at the drop of a hat. Stetson Pinefield was from Ohio, born in the fifties in late December. Andrew "Eight Ball" Alcatraz, born in Alabama in mid-May, got his nickname from his troubled childhood that resulted from his dad getting locked up when he was only eight. It was something of a specialty, giving life to people that never truly existed.

But suddenly, all at once, Stan was forced to overtake the life of someone he loved, and it’s like he forgot how to so much as breathe. This wasn’t some sob story he could bullshit to people he’d never see again, or a name he pulled out of his ass to keep him in place just a bit longer. This is his twin brother, someone he spent every moment of his childhood with, yet someone he feels as though he doesn’t know a thing about.

Sure, none of the people in this town can tell the difference between himself and Ford, and for that he’s grateful. But a man can only pose as his possibly-dead brother for so long before somebody starts getting suspicious. Ford’s lived in this town for over ten years, he’s bound to have been on good terms with somebody.

Oh well. He’ll burn that bridge when he gets to it. For now, all Stan needs to focus on is scamming enough people out of their wallets so he can pay off the bills and keep working on the portal that swallowed his brother whole, and those seem to be going…well, just about as smoothly as teaching yourself three years-worth of advanced multiverse physics when you never even graduated from high school can go, but at least he’s making process.

Turns out, there’s still one more flaw in Stan’s plan that even he should’ve been able to factor in.

As much of a recluse Ford advertised himself to be to the locals of Gravity Falls, it turns out that he always receives a call from home on his birthday.

The first year Stan spends in Gravity Falls, he debates letting the phone go to voice mail. He has no idea how in or out of character it would be for Ford to answer his phone, nor does he have any idea who could be calling at all.

Eventually, though, he figures it’d probably look even more suspicious if he doesn’t pick up, and Stan isn’t willing to risk anything, even if it means bullshitting his way through a phone call for the rest of the night.

He takes a deep breath, and with a shaky hand he picks up the phone.

“Stanford?” his mother says, and to say he’s overjoyed to hear her voice for the first time in years is a massive understatement.

“Ma?” Stan replies, struggling not to slip into his own voice. “Why are you calling?”

She cackles. “Well hello to you too, birthday boy. I’m starting to think all of that research is getting to your head. Can’t a mother call her son on his birthday?”

Stan blinks. Is it…really June already? “Is that today?”

She laughs again. “See? It is getting to you! Do your poor aging mother a favor and go outside and get some sunshine. It’ll be good for you!” She quips. “Or at the very least, please, take a break and go to bed early tonight, for me”

Stan smiles. “Okay, Ma. I will.”

“Good,” she replies matter-of-factly. “Now, tell me all about what it’s like up there on the West Coast. Is it unbearably hot over there? I can’t seem to find your little town on my map. Must be why it’s so spooky, since you’re the only living soul for miles.” She laughs again. “I’m kidding, dear. I’m sure it’s fantastic. Tell me everything.”

And all at once, it’s like Stan’s a kid again. Stan and his Ma talk on the phone for hours. He figures that Ford must not call very often, so he spews out anything that comes to mind in hopes that she doesn’t see right through him. She buys it, miraculously, and when they hang up at the end of the night Stan promises that he’ll try and call home more often.

It becomes an easy pattern for Stan to slip into as the years go by. Just as long as he calls frequently enough not to raise suspicion, he can always look forward to receiving a call on June 15th every year. Some tiny part of him feels selfish for posing as his brother and lying to his mother for so long, but it’s the most connected he’s felt to any sort of family in years.

Deep down, though, he knows he can’t get too comfortable, and there’s still too many loose ends he needs to tie up before he can let his guard down.

On June 5th, 1987, just before his thirty-third birthday, Stan Pines dies in a fiery car crash.

On June 7th, he just barely misses a call from home as he’s coming up from tinkering with the portal.

“Stanford”, his mother’s voice says, lacking any of the snarky bite it usually contains. “I know that you’re a very busy man with your research, and driving all the way back to New Jersey on such a short notice is…unfair of me to ask of you, but…” She pauses to take a shaky breath, like she’s struggling not to cry. “But something terrible happened to Stanley, and…” she pauses again. “We’re holding a service for him on the fifteenth. I know that things haven’t been great between you two the past few years, and I can’t imagine a funeral would be an ideal way to spend your birthday, but…It was the only date they had available, and it would really mean the world to all of us if you could attend. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. Call me as soon as you get this, okay? I love you.”

There’s a click, and she’s gone, and Stan contemplates his options.

Would Ford attend his funeral, if things were exactly the way it seemed? Would Ford even consider him worthy of the time? He’d said it himself: I want you to get as far away from me as possible. Would Ford be relieved that he was finally rid of him, like a weight off his shoulders?

Stan doesn’t even realize that he started crying until a tear drop lands on the counter beside the phone. Just how long has Ford been waiting to get rid of him, anyway?

No. Stan shakes those thoughts away. He can’t lose himself in those kinds of thoughts again. Every time he lets those thoughts get to him, bad things happen.

Besides…a funeral for, er, himself, may not be the most ideal way to spend his birthday, but finally being able to spend it at home for the first time in near decades, despite the circumstances, still beats slaving over an indecipherable journal in a dimly lit basement for twelve hours straight.

He takes a deep breath, and dials home.

“Hey, Ma”

~~~~~~~~

Ever since he turned eighteen, Stan found himself unable to celebrate his birthday without a sour taste in his mouth. As a kid, he looked forward to it more than anything. It was the one day a year that Pa would splurge and let him and Ford do whatever they wanted, and having a birthday in mid-June meant that there was only about a week of school left before they were free for the summer.

Most of all, it was about togetherness. Stan and Ford never had that many friends when they were growing up, so their shared birthdays were always about spending time together, because nobody else deserved to come to their party and celebrate with them anyways.

Once he was forced to spend his birthdays on the streets, Stan was starting to think that maybe he didn’t deserve it either. Even when he did have people to celebrate with, whether that be his cellmates in prison or nameless gamblers in Vegas casinos, everything felt empty, and there isn’t enough cake or alcohol in this world that could’ve filled that void.

Those early summers in Gravity Falls were the worst years of his life. The calls from home were nice, sure, but his stomach flipped with nausea every time his mother called him Stanford. To no fault of her own, she made him feel as though her love was conditional, and that he wasn’t meeting any of the requirements.

He knows, of course, that it’s not true in the least, but Stan just wishes that wake-up call hadn’t come from attending his own funeral. Stan had gone in expecting to have a terrible time, but he really had thought that seeing his mother’s face for the first time in a decade would’ve cushioned that fall.

Turns out that it only made him feel worse, and he’d declared sometime later over a bottle of whiskey that his birthday must be cursed, and that he never wanted to celebrate it again.

~~~~~~~~

On June 15th, 2013, Stan wakes to the sound of a seagull screeching its head off outside his window. He groans, and sits up in bed to look out his window, but all that meets his eye is the vast sea. He looks then to his bedside clock, which reads 8:30am.

Grumbling to himself, Stan kicks off his covers and stands to his feet, because he knows if he tries to go back to sleep now he’ll be out cold until mid-afternoon. He ruffles through his clothing drawer and picks one of Mabel’s hand knit sweaters at random, because the Arctic doesn’t care what time of year it is when it comes to the weather.

Ford is already sitting out on a deck chair with a fishing rod when Stan steps out of his bedroom.

“Morning” Stan says as he approaches so as not to sneak up on his brother and spook him.

“Oh, good morning, Stanley” Ford smiles as Stan takes the seat beside him. “Did I wake you?”

“Unless you’re a screaming bird, then no” Stan rubs at his eyes. “How long you been up?”

Ford shrugs. “About an hour, hour and a half, I think? What time is it?”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “You sure you slept at all, Poindexter?” He holds three fingers mere inches from Ford’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Ford smacks his hand away. “Very funny, Stanley. I’ll have you know that I got a solid four and a half hours of sleep last night”

Stan cackles. “Woah, looks like we got a new record, folks” He stretches his arms in the air. “You make any coffee yet? I’m still not awake enough to deal with the cold”

“Oh,” Ford replies, like the question caught him off guard. He stands to his feet. “I must’ve completely forgotten” he says.

That reply does catch Stan off-guard. Ford? Forgetting to make coffee? His practical lifeline? There must be something up.

Stan rises from his chair, frowning. “You sure you’re doing okay, Sixer?”

“Of course,” Ford replies, not turning back to look at him. “I’m just…tired, is all”

Okay, Ford knows that Stan can sniff out a lie from hundreds of miles away, so whatever it is that Ford is hiding from him must be really bad, because---

That train of thought leaves his head just as quickly as it had entered it the moment he steps foot into the kitchen. There’s a banner hanging up above the window that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY, and there are a handful of multicolored balloons scattered across the floor.

And right at the center of their table sits two cupcakes and two steaming cups of coffee.

“It was Mabel’s idea,” Ford finally turns to meet Stan’s eyes, smiling. “She called me last night to try and walk me through her cupcake recipe, but…” he rubs at the back of his head as he takes a seat at the table. “It turns out that baking isn’t quite my forte” He gestures to the seat across from him at the table. “So instead, when we were still docked last night, I snuck off board to hunt down a bakery”

Ford fiddles with the paper wrapper on his cupcake. “I know it’s not much, but…” he raises his cupcake in the air like he was making a toast. “Happy birthday”

Not much?

This is winning the lottery compared to all the other birthdays Stan’s suffered through.

He takes the seat across from Ford, and raises his own cupcake to clink it against Ford’s.

“Happy birthday to you too, Poindexter”

#my writing #gravity falls #stanuary #stan pines

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michibikionmain · 3 years

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This isn’t THE tommyinnit villain essay but it sure is one of them

Ok ok so 4 those of u who aren't on discord with me: i have two main essays that have been in the works for MONTHS, these being my Complete Dream character analysis essay going in-depth for nearly all of his canon interactions and finding his character traits and motivations through the story, and my Tommyinnit (and Wilbur Soot) were Always The Villains on the server essay talking about how the only reason so many people view them as the good guys or heroes is because we see the story from their perspective mainly. This essay? Is not either of those. BUT, it does go through a lot of my thoughts on Tommy and Dream’s characters so I figured I’d post it. maybe itll help me organize my thoughts 4 my Mega Projects lol

@ranboocore bc u helped me pop off on this so hard LMAO

Warning, it’s VERY Tommy Critical, what a suprise. I do not like Tommy as a character lol. idk what triggers yall might need me to tag but if u need one in particular pls lmn!

My biggest issue with tommy's character is that he SAYS hes learned but he never does he is exactly the same person he was at the start of the server just More Sad and with Trauma, when out of all the characters he's had the most push to change. c!Tommy is a very tell-don't-show character which can make it hard for some people to connect to him, especially those who don’t directly share his trauma or see themselves in his character. Of course, there is still a MASSIVE amount of people who relate to his struggles and thus love him regardless of his writing, but those who can't relate to him will always feel some kind of barrier until the things they've talked about are actually shown to the viewer instead of being spoon-fed to them.

It is a very beginner writing thing, and I'm hoping that Tommy is figuring out how to fix this, maybe with support from the many other writers on the server. There's the 3 you mentioned, plus fundy, niki, and maybe tubbo who also play dnd, plus Dream who said he would've been an English major and does a lot of personal writing for fun. I think the biggest issue in the writing lies in the individual ccs being inexperienced in the medium, particularly with planning out their own character growth.

Another glaring issue I have with c!Tommy is how he's framed to be sympathetic and he goes through all these horrible things without acknowledging his role in any of them. The things that have happened to him are a direct result of his actions, but the thing is HE won't acknowledge and so it falls flat. This isn’t to say that being abused is his fault, because it’s NEVER the vicitm’s fault, but being exiled? His multiple fights with c!Dream? His friendships falling apart? Losing the disks in the first place? They’re the direct consequences of HIS OWN actions, but he never acknowledges this and constantly just... brushes off any accountability by either saying that it’s Dream fault or simply SAYING he feels bad without properly showing it through redemption and GROWTH.

Denial is useful in storytelling sometimes, but Tommy's character has been in denial since the very beginning of the server and at this point it's just exhausting. He only ever switches between denial and depression, not really going through all 5 stages of grief properly. His violent/upset reactions would be more powerful if they were any different from how tommy usually acts, but this is always how he is. When he “lashes out” because he’s reached the end of his patience, it doesn’t SEEM like the snap it is because that’s just... it’s seriously just his standard reaction to everything. It hold no WEIGHT to see c!Tommy yell at someone violently or threaten to fight them because he does that anyways!

Static characters can be a good thing, and can be interesting if done correctly, but not every character SHOULD or CAN be static in a story.

Static characters need to have their position or behavior challenged and question, where they look into if the way they see and interact with the world is really the 'correct' one or just evaluated to see if they truly believe in them. This questioning period is CRUCIAL! and NEEDS to be well done in a way that ACTIVELY SHOWS the conflict between the two ideals. If they decide to hold onto their beliefs/continue their behavior then, it feels deserved, because rather than just being a flat "they do thing its who they are" they have defined WHY. WHY is a very important question to think of when telling the difference between dynamic and static characters. The why of a character is ESSENTIAL to developing them as a relatable, sympathetic person rather than a flat story telling device. It makes them a human rather than a puppet. When a character's motives aren't well defined or discussed, they're doomed to fall flat in everything else, because the WHY is the foundation of what makes them who they are.

c!Tommy has an underdeveloped "why", his motivations are weak, rarely properly discussed and when they are it doesn't particularly stick with him. His motivations change without showing us the internal struggle that should come from literally shifting your driving principles. There are some good MOMENTS of him reevaluating the importance of certain things, but they're so spread out and contradictory and immediately spat one that they're hard to piece together. He TELLS us what his motivations are as well, which is another big flaw when it comes to all that but we don't have time to unpack all THAT Anyways, the key to static story telling is reaffirmation. The character goes through a complete journey and ends with the same beliefs because they've looked into why they have them and determined that they still matter to them. A great example of static writing in my eyes is c!Techno, who since the beginning has believed that governments are bad. c!Techno enters the server to destroy a government, and still ends up doing that because he sees and we see him experience that the reasons he didn't like government before still hold true and he has no reason to support them any more than before, and so his anarchist beliefs are REAFFIRMED, proving to him that they way he handles things is the right one for him.

c!Tommy’s attachments are all just... they're all so weird. like he LITERALLY SACRIFICES HIS LIFE MULTIPLE TIMES for L'manburg. By action of sacrifice it seems like it should be the most important thing to him, but then he throws it away for some disks that mattered less to him just a minute ago. But then it's all about how c!Tubbo is worth more than Anything and maybe he's found something more important! but then he shoves THAT out the window for the discs again ig!!! but then it's about l’manburg again? Make it make sense.... pls....

Here's smth that really irks me about Tommy's character, and is kind of weird but give me a second to explain: Tommy has never actually permanently lost much of anything on the server. Every punishment he's ever received he's tried to find some way around. And like... I'm not expecting him to be HAPPY to face the consequences of his actions but seeing him constantly have his cake and eat it too is very irritating, especially when there are characters who DO have to deal with actual permanent sacrifices. The whole thing with the disks. where he WILLINGLY OFFERED THEM UP AND GAVE THEM AWAY THEN SPENT FOREVER TRYING TO STEAL THEM BACK WHILE CLAIMING DREAM STOLE THEM FROM HIM, is the biggest example of this, but it's generally his characters way of dealing with things. He's very backhanded and conniving, constantly calling himself "big man" except for when he wants things from people and he plays up the "iM a MiNoR" card to try and get them to give him things or feel bad. He's not just some sweet innocent kid like people paint him, he knows damn well he's messed up and while he SAYS he feels bad about it, he has never once really shown, with his ACTIONS, regret for what he's done except for the stuff with c!Sapnap, which could it could be argued he did because he thought it would help get c!Sapnap on his side to fight Dream and he knew c!Sapnap was a skilled warrior and could possibly be persuaded to fight with dream.

c!Tommy is in NO way some sweet innocent child, he knows what he's doing. He KNEW l'manburg was a drug empire, and wanted to turn his hotel into the same He was FULLY prepared to just murder c!Schlatt for legally winning an election that he KNEW was rigged AND INTENDED TO HELP RIG HE LITERALLY TEAMED UP WITH c!TECHNOBLADE KNOWING THAT HE INTENDED TO BLOW UP L'MANBURG AND ONLY LEFT WHEN HE REALIZED IT WASN'T GOING TO ACTUALLY HELP HIM--

The line of c!Wilbur saying "Tommy, are we the bad guys?" wasn't him mentally going batshit it was him realizing that the entire time they've been doing terrible things. c!Wilbur was literally ALWAYS Vilbur but the time people CALL Vilbur is when c!Will himself realized he was a villain.

#like. VERY critical #i do not like the child can you tell?#im sorry tommy fans but i am not one of you #and before you ask: Yes I have and do watch his perspective of the SMP just so i can try to understand his thought process #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp analysis #dsmp analysis #critical analysis #prince/pea and i pop off about this so much LOL #this is the first of MANY essays/collective analysis bits ive written about Tommy #lets see how many ill have by the time i finish going through the discord #tommyinnitcritical #discourse #ig. i saw a lot of ppl asking 4 this tag on similar posts so i thought id add it?

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glacecakes · 4 years

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Alchemy Lullaby (4/?)

Of all the changes that came with living in the castle, becoming a father was not one he anticipated. When Eugene encounters a small child suffering like he did, he gives them the opportunity to grow up the way he never did… helping them both heal. (AU where Varian is 4 and gets adopted by Eugene)

Chapter 4: Cassandra and Eugene still don't get along, so Rapunzel and Varian take it upon themselves to... push them along.

I've had this idea in my head since the very beginning. Essentially, this is a rewrite of Cassandra v Eugene, so if you haven't seen that episode, I suggest watching the first 20 minutes of it cuz I didn't want to rewrite every single scene. Otherwise this chapter would never get done. This is likely gonna be the only chapter that's an episode rewrite, the rest is all new-ish content. Shoutout to the Team Awesome and Scar Varian server for the support! If you wanna join them for some quality dadgene message me for the link :)

Previous chapters here

The earth on which Quirin walked was scorched and barren. Its dull brown was of dead soil, a stark contrast to the jet black rock protruding out of it. Quirin’s weary hand brushed across smooth rock, wiping away the bits of dirt and dust stuck to it. He sighed. Another village on the brink of ruin.

He’d seen it many times since his departure from the Dark Kingdom. It starts out small, a few rocks here and there. Then, they form clusters, and the offshoots become bigger and bigger, until spikes the size of horses are thrusting out of the earth. He’d even seen a poor soul impaled on one as it shot out underneath his feet. Soon enough, the rocks become too unbearable, too dangerous to live by, and the village is abandoned. Entire lives uprooted, ancestral homes abandoned, families separated by the diaspora. He knows it’s inevitable, that it will happen to this village too.

He also knows why.

She’s standing right in front of him.

“Ulla.”

The woman was loading barrels into a cart, but she stopped at her name. Her red hair is tied into a messy bun, the shoes of her feet caked in mud. She brushes dust off of her dress.

“Quirin,” she responded. She doesn’t turn to face him. “You finally found me, huh?”

“I did. There’s no more running.”

How does he start this conversation? He hadn’t seen her in over five years. For better or worse, he’s uncertain.

“...I wouldn’t take you for a farmer,” Quirin managed.

Ulla laughed, throwing her head back. “It’s my family’s home. I never thought I’d be back.” Her words turn dark at the end. Silence engulfs them both.

Then, she sighed. She turns, and she’s just as beautiful now as she was back then. An extra wrinkle stretched across her eyebrows, but otherwise, she was the same.

“Why are you here, Quirin?” She asked.

“You know why.”

At this, the woman scowled. She turned back around, fists clenched. “I don’t have it.”

Quirin blinked in shock. But… she had to! He’d been tracking the rocks for years, he knows how they work! What they are looking for! How can she not have it?

“Ulla, I saw you take it.” he says, exasperated.

“I didn’t have it then either!” She snapped, turning around to face him. Her eyes are wild, flushed with an anger the likes which Quirin has only seen in one other person.

That man is rotting in the Dark Kingdom with only a bird as company.

“That’s impossible,” Quirin responded, growing more ire. “Look around you, Ulla. The rocks have been following you all along. You settled in a town where they are sprouting. Tell me why I should believe you!”

Ulla rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “The rocks stopped growing months ago, Quirin. And they were never following me. Because I never had it. Trust me, I wish I had it! I took it for myself! And yet, here we are!” She throws her arms into the air.

The air is still. Even the birds are silent.

Ulla lowers her arms. “If I had it, the world would be a much different place, trust me.” Her words are bitter.

Quirin groans, because she’s not wrong.

That doesn’t answer his question, though.

“If it’s not here… where is it, then?”

Varian squirmed uncomfortably on the wooden stool he was seated on. “Can I move now?” He whined.

“Almost, just finishing up…!” Rapunzel chimed from behind the easel.

It’s not that he didn’t want to help Rapunzel, really! He really, really liked her! She was warm, gave the best hugs, and was constantly fretting over him like he’d seen other moms do. While Eugene was like the dad he’d wished for whenever he saw families pass by, Rapunzel was everything his momma wasn’t.

But he really didn’t want to sit still for ages while Rapunzel painted him. There was so much to see, so much to do! Toys to play with, treats to try and steal, places to hide in when he got caught trying to eat said treats…

“FITZHERBERT!”

Both Rapunzel and Varian flinched at the scream. The paintbrush scribbled across the canvas, leaving a blue streak across painted Varian’s eyes. The sundrop groaned, throwing her head back. That was the 4th portrait ruined this week!

“Come on, Varian,” She sighed, and the child scrambled off the stool. “Let’s go see why they’re fighting today.”

Varian gripped her hand tightly as they entered the foyer. Eugene and Cassandra glowered at each other from across the room.

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about!” Eugene cried. “No wait, wrong choice of words. I don’t care what you’re so upset about!”

Rapunzel fought back a groan. Why did they have to do this? Since Varian had come into the castle they’d toned back on the fighting, what with Eugene being too busy with Varian instead of having nothing to do except annoy Cass. After his disastrous first day, the small child had been a bit anxious to be anywhere without Eugene close by. But Varian was fully settled in now, and knew his way around as well as the people within his new home. So he was willing to hang out with other people sans Eugene.

Leaving the man free to annoy Cassandra to his heart’s content.

Cassandra’s voice is dripping with venom. “Not only did you take my halberd without asking, you got your disgusting hair all over it!” She spits. If looks could kill, Eugene would be back in Rapunzel’s tower bleeding out.

“How dare you!” Eugene crosses his arms. “First of all, I did not touch your halberd. Second of all, what is a halberd?”

Cassandra holds up a massive weapon, and Eugene’s eyes light up in recognition.

“Oooh! A halberd! Ok, ok, you got me, but check this out!” He gestures to his face. “Smooth as a baby’s bottom!”

“Try a monkey’s.” The lady in waiting bites. Varian ducks behind Rapunzel. At first, the princess worries he’s scared, but realizes he’s biting back a smile. The child may look up to Eugene like he hangs the stars in the sky, but he’s still a child, and the insult is rather funny.

“Ok everyone,” Rapunzel moves them both forward, stepping in. “Let’s take a deep calming breath, ok?” She exaggerates her breathing, motioning up and down in time with her breath. For his part, Varian dutifully takes a breath alongside her.

Neither Eugene or Cassandra take the breath. Instead, they keep going.

“To be fair, I asked several, several times,” Eugene crosses his arms, as if that ends the argument in his favor.

That only angers Cassandra more. She slams the pole to the floor. “And I said no! Every time!”

“Which shouldn’t matter, because we both know I don’t listen to you!”

Varian cocks his head in confusion. “Does that mean I don’t have to listen to her?” He whispers to Rapunzel. Eugene glances over like he’s won the lottery.

“Yes! Yes it does, my little pupil. Never listen to what Cassandra says!” He laughs, and Varian nods eagerly.

Cassandra’s teeth grind together. Any more and they’d be dust. “Your little brat already doesn’t listen! Anytime I try to fix his sleeves he screams and tries to bite me!” The child’s chest puffs up slightly at that, proudly displaying his rolled back sleeves.

“Oi, don’t call my kid a brat! He’s teething!”

“VARIAN IS FOUR!”

“Guys,” Rapunzel tries, putting on her best diplomatic voice. “This is ridiculous, come on.”

Neither Cassandra nor Eugene pay her any mind. It seems they’re only focused on one-upping the other, bouncing back and forth. She had seen enough. They’d be at it all morning at this rate. All she could do was gently lead Varian out the door, and out of earshot. Knowing those two, they’d be exchanging some words she didn’t want Varian learning.

“Hey, Punzel?” Varian tugged at her dress. “How come they don’t get along?”

The princess sighs. “I wish I knew.”

Varian glances down, tiny fists clenched. He’d seen many fights in his time on the streets. From couples bickering to business deals gone south; while Varian had never actively participated in a fight, he’d seen them from around the corner. He’d heard them at night when he tried to sleep under a warm windowsill.

Rapunzel noticed his unhappiness and leaned down to his level. “Hey, it’s ok. I’m sure they’d get along if they just spent a little one-on-one time together. After all, you didn’t know Eugene till he spent some time with you,” at the last word she poked his nose, earning a faint smile.

Wait a minute… that was it! They just needed some time together! Eugene had been busy with settling in and then Varian, and Cass had her duties, so they never really spent alone time together… but since Varian would be with her today, and Cass had the day off, what better time than now?

“I just had the best idea! Why don’t you and I set up a little fun for them, hm?” The small child’s eyes lit up in excitement.

Varian hummed, running down the hallway. In his hand he held a letter, carefully folded and marked To Fitzherbert. As much as he would’ve loved to add his personal touch to the letter, Rapunzel made it clear that it had to look like it came from Cassie.

Varian didn’t hate her, per say, he didn’t hate anyone! But Cassie grimaced anytime he called her that, and she was mean to Eugene, and Varian loved Eugene! How could anyone hate him? He’s nice, and gives great hugs, and he’s funny…

Speaking of Eugene, he was right around the corner, chatting with one of the guards Varian had no desire to learn the name of. He let out a little squeal of excitement, picking up speed to run straight into his caretaker’s legs.

“Eugene!” He cried, delighted. The man stopped his rambling and his eyes lit up at the sight of the boy.

“Heya, kid!” He ruffled inky hair. The little tyke’s adoration was overwhelming in the best of ways. Eugene would do anything to keep that smile plastered on Varian’s face. It was a similar love to the one he felt towards Rapunzel, but… different.

Fatherly, his mind whispered.

“I have a letter from Cassie,” Varian held the note out with both hands, big blue eyes pleading with Eugene to take it.

“Ah, making you do her dirty work, is she? I thought I said you didn’t have to listen to her?” Eugene chuckled, taking the letter.

Oh no! He had said that! Oh, Varian was in big trouble wasn’t he? His smile faded rapidly, and Eugene panicked. “Whoa whoa, no need to be sad, I’ll read it! Thanks for bringing it!”

It was still a struggle for Varian to let go of his old habits. The biggest one was being afraid of messing up. The kid had his sassy moments, but he always did as he was told no matter what. And anytime he thought he made a mistake, big tears would dribble down pudgy cheeks. It broke Eugene’s heart. It was a slow process, getting Varian to understand mistakes were ok, but hey, he didn’t cry today! That’s progress!

Varian gave him a weaker but still bright smile. “I gotta go back to Punzel now, love you.”

Eugene chuckled. “Alright, bud. You know the way?”

“Mhm!”

Eugene gave him one last hair ruffle, and the toddler marched off like a man on a mission.

So what did Cassandra want from him…?

The dungeon was oddly empty. His boots echoed across cold stone, the only noise he heard in this wing. There weren’t even any guards stationed.

Let’s see… 32… 33… ah! 34! Cassandra said she’d be waiting in here.

“Odd place for an apology,” Eugene muttered to himself, stepping into the middle of the prison cell. It was no different than it was during his last stint in Corona’s dungeons. Bleak, uninviting, and cramped.

“I’m sorry, did you say I was apologizing?” Eugene jumped four feet in the air at the woman’s voice. In the corner stood Cassandra, holding a paper near identical to his own. “Because this letter here says you’re here to apologize to me, for, you know, stealing my halberd.”

“If anything, you should be saying sorry to me! Telling me how to raise my kid, how rude!” Eugene huffed.

The incoming fight was cut off by the clang of a cell door.

Their cell door.

On the other side, Rapunzel twirled a ring of keys around her finger, looking pleased as punch. Varian stood at her side, grin unnaturally wide, like he had just been told Christmas had come early. And maybe to him it had. He bounced up and down, giggling.

The princess’s slyly grinned, a mischievous spark glinting in her eyes. “Time for the game to begin.”

“What game?” Cassandra groaned.

Varian couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. “We wrote the letters!” he blurted. “So you’d come down here, and we’d lock you in!”

Eugene gaped. His little boy, conspiring against him! “Guys, come on! You wouldn’t just sit there and lock us in right?” ...Right?

“Oh no,” Rapunzel butt in. “We would, and we have.” She steepled her fingers like the criminal mastermind she totally was. “And I’m afraid the only way for you to escape is to work together and solve a puzzle… of my design.”

Her voice took on a more royal tone, sounding more like a decree. “Within these walls you will find a series of strategically placed, increasingly difficult clues, each one more difficult than the last. Put them together, and you’re free to go…”

The little child by her side piped in. “Fail, and this prison cell will become your new home!” Varian’s little giggles grew louder, and louder, until he was full on maniacally laughing. Who taught Eugene’s sweet angel how to do that?

Varian’s laughter cut off abruptly to gaze back up at Rapunzel. “Did I say it right?” She gave him a thumbs up.

Ah. That’s who.

“Well, good luck!” And with that, Rapunzel took Varian’s hand and left the dungeon, ignoring the cries of protest.

Underneath their feet, on the floor below, their cries of protest weren’t ignored. Two men, hulking and thunderous, perked up at the sound of a familiar foe’s voice.

“Do you think it’ll work…?” Varian murmured, looking down at his feet as they walked. He kicked with each step, deep in thought.

Rapunzel grinned. “I’m sure it will! Just give it an hour or two, and they’ll be back with us! They’re gonna love what we’ve given them!” The toddler pouted. An hour? That’s like, forever! Oh well, he can wait an hour…

Varian couldn’t wait an hour. But to be fair, Varian didn’t know how long an hour was.

He groaned from his spot on the stool. Now that they had peace and quiet, Rapunzel wanted to finally perfect his portrait. He’d been in this stool 5 times now, and each time was worse than before! He couldn’t read, he couldn’t draw, all he could do was sit still as Rapunzel painted him. Each time he was promised cookies for his patience, but cookies just wouldn’t do anymore! Not when there was something exciting going down in the dungeons!

He flopped over, stomach on the stool. His feet kicked in the air, just barely brushing the floor. How much longer was this gonna take…?

“Pascal, hand me my shading brush?” Rapunzel murmured, no longer paying attention to what Varian was up to. She was too engrossed in her work, finally able to work in peace and quiet. “Maybe after this I can do some knitting… ooh! Or even some baking! Or maybe bake a pie…?” She listed off the ideas, glancing up at her chameleon to see his response.

Surely, she wouldn’t mind if Varian went to check up on Eugene and Cassie?

“Punzel… can I go see Eugene?” He asked, practically upside down on the stool.

“Mhm, sure,” she mumbled, too engrossed in painting the background of her portrait to really comprehend what the child was saying.

It was all he needed. As soon as those words were out of her mouth, Varian sprung up from his seat fresh as a daisy. He raced out the door, carefully retracing his steps towards the dungeon.

As he descended down the steps, he heard familiar voices.

“Cut… it… out!”

“You cut it out, the jack was my idea!”

“Me, me, me, it’s all about me!”

“That’s because I’m far more interesting!”

Varian approached the cell, pleasantly surprised to see the two of them had figured out the puzzle and were at the last step.

“Hi Cassie! Hi Eugene!” He cried, starling the two adults. The jack, carefully constructed out of the bits and bobs Rapunzel had hidden, went flying. It shattered on the floor and its parts fell into the grate lining the cell floor.

“No!” Cass moaned, reaching into the air in desperation. She collapsed to her hands and knees. “DAMNIT!”

“Language,” Varian murmured.

Eugene wailed in annoyance. “My comb! That was the first thing I ever stole!” He glanced over his shoulder to see Varian standing quietly, anxiously.

The child whimpered. He’d messed up… and now Eugene and Cassie would never get out!

“Hey, it’s not your fault, kid. You just spooked us. It happens.” He held a hand out for Varian to grasp, and the child took the comfort readily.

“I’m sorry… I keep messing up,” he whimpered. His voice echoed off the stone walls, entering the grate, down to the ears of two brothers who had just found themselves with the materials to build a jack.

“Hey hey, it’s ok, Varian. As long as you’re with me, you should never feel afraid to make a mistake. I mean, I’ve made a lot of em, and I turned out just fine!”

Varian giggled. “Love you, Eugene.”

Eugene squeezed his hand a little tighter. “Love you too, kid.”

That was all well and good, but they still needed the jack. Cassandra sighed. “Varian, there’s a few cells down below, the staircase is to your right. Can you run down and grab what fell?”

Varian hesitated. “Eugene said I can’t listen to you,” he murmured, not wanting a repeat of last time. The handmaiden rolled her eyes. She punched Eugene’s arm.

“Ow! Hey Varian, can you run downstairs and grab my comb for me?” Eugene smirked. Another punch. “Ow! And the rest of the stuff?” Wordlessly the child raced over to the staircase, disappearing from view.

“You really love that kid, huh?” Cassandra sighed, watching him leave.

“Yeah, I do. I know it’s only been a couple weeks but… he means everything to me.” His eyes softened. “Just like with Rapunzel. Love changes you.”

Cassandra couldn’t help but smile. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“I’d argue I’m lucky to have him.”

The two lapsed into silence. Eugene leaned against the wall of the cell, while Cassandra fidgeted with her gloves.

Suddenly, soft footsteps approached the cell. “Ah, Varian, I take it you found the jack?” Eugene didn’t look behind him.

“Not exactly.”

The man froze. That wasn’t Varian. He knew that deep, menacing voice.

Cassandra shot up from the bed in shock, and Eugene felt his world shatter as he turned around.

Standing free were the Stabbington brothers.

Sideburns held the ruined jack.

Patches held a squirming, sobbing Varian.

“Hello, Rider.”

#tangled #tangled the series #varian #tts #tts varian #tts eugene #tangled eugene #eugene fitzherbert #team awesome

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recentanimenews · 3 years

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Manga the Week of 5/5/21

SEAN: May Comes In Like a Tiger! What manga do we have next week?

Airship has an early digital release of Hello World, a one-shot SF novel about a boy whose future self returns to help him save his future girlfriend… or so he says. This sounds like it’s for fans of I Want to Eat Your Pancreas and others in that genre.

MICHELLE: Sounds interesting!

ASH: I’m intrigued!

MELINDA: Same here!

SEAN: They’ve also got Monster Girl Doctor Zero (a prequel), an early digital volume of Mushoku Tensei 11, and print volumes for The Saint’s Magic Power Is Omnipotent 3 and PENGUINDRUM 3 (the final volume).

ASH: One of these days I’ll actually read PENGUINDRUM.

SEAN: Cross Infinite World has a 2nd volume of Reincarnated As the Last of My Kind.

In print, J-Novel Club has Ascendance of a Bookworm 5 (manga), I Shall Survive Using Potions 5, Infinite Dendrogram 12, and My Next Life As a Villainess 7.

Digitally, they debut a new light novel in their Heart series, Culinary Chronicles of the Court Flower (Ikka Koukyuu Ryourichou). It sounds, honestly, a lot like The Apothecary Diaries only with food replacing medicine.

ASH: That sounds like a good combination to me!

SEAN: Also digitally is Altina the Sword Princess: Loose Threads (aka Vol. 7.5) and Altina the Sword Princess 8, Ascendance of a Bookworm 12, and Cooking with Wild Game 12.

Kaiten Books has a 4th volume of the Loner Life in Another World manga.

No print debuts for Kodansha Manga, but we do get Attack on Titan 33, Boarding School Juliet 14, Eden’s Zero 11, and Weathering With You 3, a final volume.

Digitally the debut is With the Sheikh in His Harem (Sheik-sama to Harem de), a Nakayoshi title. That cover, featuring the palest sheikh ever. That synopsis (girl is proposed to by rich man, who won’t take no for an answer). Remember when Nakayoshi was far younger in focus than it seems to be now? Recommended for Harlequin fans.

We also get the 2nd and final volume of Araki Won’t Be Tamed (whose cover I just have to link to, because YIKES), The 2nd Girlfriend, Girlfriend, My Dearest Self with Malice Aforethought 4, and My Unique Skill Makes Me OP even at Level 1 5.

ASH: That cover, my goodness!

SEAN: Seven Seas has The Dungeon of Black Company 6, Manly Appetites: Minegishi Loves Otsu 2, Skeleton Knight in Another World 6 (manga), and SUPER HxEROS 2.

ASH: I’m really looking forward to reading more of Manly Appetites; the first volume was delightful.

SEAN: Udon Entertainment has the 5th and final volume of The Rose of Versailles, including extra manga short stories Ikeda wrote in the 80s. Thank you so much for finally giving us this title in English.

ANNA: Yes. I’m still pinching myself about this.

MICHELLE: Me, too!

ASH: I continue to be absolutely thrilled we finally have this in translation.

MELINDA: Again, same here!

SEAN: Viz has a Shonen Jump debut, with Undead Unluck. A girl whose luck is so bad it kills people tries to kill herself, only to run into an undead man who can’t die. Together they discover they’re being hunted by a secret organization. Despite the worst possible 2-page opening spread I’ve seen in the history of Jump, I have heard this is quite good.

ASH: I have likewise heard good things.

MELINDA: I have heard nothing, because apparently I live under a rock, but this sounds kind of great.

SEAN: There are also three long-runners coming to a close next week. JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure has the 9th book of Arc 4, so we finish off Diamond Is Unbreakable. Worry not, Golden Wind is coming. Daytime Shooting Star and Shortcake Cake, meanwhile, both end with a 12th volume.

ANNA: I like Shortcake Cake and Daytime Shooting Star for entirely different reasons.

MICHELLE: Me too. I look forward to finishing both.

SEAN: We also get Black Cover 25, Boruto 11, Haikyu!! 44, Kaguya-sama: Love Is War 19, The King’s Beast 2, Love Me, Love Me Not 8, The Promised Neverland 19, Snow White with the Red Hair 13, and World Trigger 22.

ANNA: Looking forward to The King’s Beast and Snow White.

MICHELLE: I’m following (or attempting to follow) most of these! Penultimate volumes for Haikyu!! and The Promised Neverland, also.

ASH: Ditto all of the above!

SEAN: Yen On has a light novel debut with The King of the Dead at the Dark Palace (Kuraki Kyuuden no Shisha no Ou), a dark fantasy about a sickly boy who dies and reincarnates… as a sickly undead who must obey his master.

They’ve also got Reign of the Seven Spellblades 2, which has a lot to live up to to top its excellent first volume.

On the Yen Press tip, we get manga debuts for the two light novels that came out in April, as we see Bofuri: I Don’t Want to Get Hurt, so I’ll Max Out My Defense 1, which runs in Comp Ace, and Hazure Skill: The Guild Member with a Worthless Skill Is Actually a Legendary Assassin 1, which runs in, believe it or not, Dengeki Playstation.

Lastly, Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? On the Side: Sword Oratoria’s 15th manga volume.

Mayday! Mayday! Throw me a manga!

By: Sean Gaffney

#Anime #News #Manga Bookshelf

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skarsgard-daydreams · 3 years

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Crusty No-Knead Artisan Bread & Bread Baking Tips

Inspired by a request from @grandpa-sweaters, I will be posting some of my favorite recipes for the holidays during the 12 Days of Solstice. In my mind, nothing is better than a freshly baked loaf of bread. Baking bread can seem intimidating at first, but once you get the hang of it, you learn that bread dough is actually quite forgiving, and it doesn't take much effort to produce a loaf that will absolutely wow everyone at your holiday feast.

Case in point is the old world magic of the Crusty No-Knead Artisan Bread. It's so simple that you can throw the ingredients together in a few minutes at night, do nothing with it for 12-18 hours, then wake up and bake it to perfection in about an hour. As the title suggests, you don't have to knead it. You simply mix flour, salt, water, and yeast into a bowl and cover it with a towel. You need some kind of covered dish in which to bake it. This could be a Dutch oven or a covered Pyrex casserole dish from the 1970's (what I use) or an oven-safe pot with a lid. Anything that retains heat and traps steam inside will allow the loaf to form that wonderfully crusty exterior that will make people think you are a true master of the loaf.

You can find hundreds of variations on this recipe on the internet, but I like to share this one by Janet Barton because the long FAQ she includes is extremely useful for people who are learning to bake bread.

A few tips for baking this bread and basically any other yeast loaf:

Activate your yeast. Even though most recipes don't call for this step, I like to throw my yeast into a little bowl with a cup of lukewarm water and a tiny bit of sugar (less than a teaspoon) and let it sit on the counter for ten minutes before I do anything. The yeast will get all bubbly and then I know it's alive and my bread will rise.

Keep it warm. Yeast doesn't work in environments that are too hot or too cold, so find a nice cozy spot in your kitchen for the dough to proof and yell at your family if they leave the back door open and create a draft. Likewise, don't use hot water or let your dough sit by a heat source. Follow the goldilocks principle.

Break the rules. Baking bread does not require the same strict precision as baking things like cakes or cookies. In fact, sticking dogmatically to the recipe can often result in a less desirable loaf because things like the type of flour you use or the humidity in your kitchen or the phase of the moon (probably) can make your dough unexpectedly too wet or too dry. Pay attention to the description of the dough's consistency in the recipe. Don't be afraid to add a bit more flour if the author says the dough should stop sticking to the bowl, but it's sticking to your fingers and every surface in your kitchen.

Follow the rules. I know I just said it’s okay to break them. But when it comes to the ingredients you’re using, make sure you’re either putting in what the recipe calls for, or you know how to compensate for the difference a substitution will make. If your recipe calls for all-purpose flour, you can’t substitute it completely with whole wheat flour and get a good result. I have a relative who tries this all the time because she wants to make it healthy, and then complains that her bread is tough. Look for a recipe using whole wheat flour instead, or do a little research to figure out how much you can substitute before the consistency of your loaf is affected.

Let it rise. Yeast needs time to do its thing, so it's important that you let it rise long enough. If the recipe says to let it rise for 90 minutes or until it has doubled in size, check it at 90 minutes but leave it for as long as it takes to actually double. For a No-Knead loaf, the extremely long rise is what allows you to skip kneading. I have baked it after 8 hours when I'm impatient, but the flavor and texture improves up to the 18 hour point. If the recipe calls for you to let the dough rest for ten minutes before you start kneading, listen to it. The dough will become more elastic as it rests and your hands or your stand mixer will thank you.

Preheat the oven. For No-Knead loaves, you have to heat the vessel in which you'll be cooking the dough for 30 minutes before you even start baking. But you should always make sure your oven comes all the way to temperature before you throw that baby in there. A lot of expansion is created as the water in the dough turns into steam. If your oven isn't hot enough, your loaf will suffer for it.

Use enough salt. A lot of bread recipes involve very few ingredients, which means that every single one of them is incredibly important! Don't skimp on the salt. If you have flaky sea salt or kosher salt, use that instead of table salt. It's delicious.

Let it cool. I know you want to slice into that bad boy and eat it the second it's done, but bread continues to develop texture and flavor even after you remove it from the oven. Give it at least an hour to cool when it's done if you're not willing to wait for it to come to room temperature. Threaten to stab your family with the bread knife if they don't leave it alone until it's ready. Revel in your newfound power as master of the loaf.

#marie's recipes #baking #bread #recipes #advice #12 days of solstice

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bestillmyslashyheart · 4 years

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The Red Name pt 4

part one || part two || part three

The bed was cold when Michael woke up. The sun was high in the sky and Alex was long gone. All that was left in the whole cabin were the sheets on the bed and Michael’s phone on Alex’s pillow. The notification light was blinking and Michael already didn’t care about what anyone had to say to him right now.

He unlocked it anyway when he saw the new email icon. He never got emails.

It was from Alex.