#I want to take him and paul and mush them together

[baconcolacan]

Giggling to myself thinking about my sona/oc kissing paul eddsworld 🥰

#neil talky #IM WORKING ON NILS RN SO #I want to take him and paul and mush them together #Nils is kinda in the weird ‘he’s my sona but also NOT my sona’ area #He’s only me when he kisses Paul most of the time he’s just an oc lemao #Achieve our dreams for us babyboy #Kiss that bushybrowed man for US 😭🫵

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning(s): mentions of cheating, cursing

Author’s notes: Hey y’all, welcome to Chapter 2! Thank you so much for all your positive feedback and responses. A little heads up: Jimmy is not in this chapter...since this is a slow burn, he’ll be introduced in Chapter 4, but it won’t be long, I promise. Just sit tight! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapter 1

---------

Evening of 4 May 1965

Walking into the kitchen, Y/N slid into a seat between her brothers, Tommy and Charlie, just as her mum was placing platters of that night’s dinner on the table. A sinking feeling in her stomach plagued her all day, as she knew that she would be interrogated  intensely by her family about the previous night. More importantly, she knew that if they felt that any of the musicians had viewed her as a possible love interest, she’d be in big, big trouble.

“Dad, can you pass me the vegetables, please?” Y/N asked her father, sitting a few seats down from her. If the girl hadn’t been glancing down at her plate to avoid eye contact, fighting the gut feeling that the inevitable would soon occur, she would have seen him glance at her from over the frames of his glasses.

“Sure, dear,” he replied, briefly looking up from the newspaper he was reading as he gave Y/N the dish. The clanking of utensils on plates was all that could be heard until Charlie broke the seal by asking the dreaded question.

“So Y/N, how was the concert last night?” he asked, raising the glass of water in his hand to his lips.  Y/N couldn’t blame Charlie for asking, because he had no idea what had happened, but she knew that this conversation could go south fast. Tommy’s hums of laughter quietly escaped his lips, and Y/N nudged his arm from under the table, giving him a glaring look that sent daggers from her eyes. It screamed, “Shut up!”, and another bout of giggles was the only response.

Tommy knew the outcome of last night because of what Carolyn had babbled to him on the car ride home, and was doing everything in his power to tease his sister.

“Why are you laughing, Tommy?” Y/N’s mum asked, finally taking a seat between Charlie and Lillian.  Silence settled over the table as all eyes locked on to the oldest daughter, and Tommy evilly smiled at Y/N, who only glared at him again. “No reason. Actually, I think Y/N should tell you instead.”

Y/N huffed as she put the dish of roasted chicken, generously seasoned and herbed, back in the middle of the table. She painted on a smile before answering, “It went pretty well. Brilliant show.”

“That’s it?” her dad asked, folding up the newspaper, knowing his daughter was downplaying it.

“Yeah, Y/N, that’s it?” Tommy added. Y/N knew he was taunting her, but the rest of the table did not pick up on it. From under the table, Y/N’s leg begins to bob up and down, and she bites her lip, debating whether or not to tell the whole story. It’s obvious they’re not going to be happy…

“My God, Tommy,” With an exasperated sigh, Y/N, very annoyed at her brother’s pushing, throws her hands up in unwilling acceptance. “Fine, Carolyn and I were invited backstage, and we met the band.”

The table audibly gasped, the loudest of course being Lillian, who looked disappointed, almost devastated at the revelation. Her lips turn down in a sulk, and she rests her cheek, almost permanently flushed with youth, on a fist. “You promised me you wouldn’t let any boys mess with you, Y/N!”

Y/N reached her hand across the table to hold her sister’s in an attempt to coax her. “They didn’t, Lil. We just talked for a while. I just made some new friends last night, that’s all.”

Lillian’s frown turned upside down, content that her sister was safe, a naïve smile that Y/N felt a little guilty about. She, along with Charlie and their parents, didn’t know that most members of the band had shamelessly flirted with her and invited her back to see them again. Tommy was the only one aware, and Y/N made him promise to keep the whole rendezvous a secret. Carolyn had brought the flirting to Y/N’s attention on the car ride home, because in the moment, she didn’t think much of it.

“If they’re mean to you, I’ll be mean to them, just for you!” Lillian exclaims through a mouthful of mush, and the table burst into laughter, shaking their heads in amusement.

“How did it go?” Y/N’s mum asked, cutting into her chicken with a knife and fork. For the first time over the course of the whole dinner, Y/N broke into an unadulterated smile at the memory. “It was really nice, genuinely. They  were all so sweet to us, and we just bonded over music and stuff.”

Y/N’s mother quirked her brow. “No ‘you know what’?”

“No Mum, nothing explicit. It was good, clean fun. Seriously.”

“Alright, I hope you’re telling the truth… I’m happy you had a great time.”

“She is telling the truth, Mum,” Tommy quipped through bites of roasted potatoes, “I can attest to that.”

Y/N’s mum smiled, but her dad piped up with some two-cents of his own. “Musicians are a tough crowd, Y/N. Very fickle blokes, their attractions change all the time. You can’t get too attached to them, dear,  you’re just a small fish in a very big sea.”

“I know, Dad,” Y/N replied, trying to sound understanding. She couldn’t lie to herself, though. The Yardbirds made her feel very special last night, and disappointment was lurching in her stomach at the comment. As much as her father’s words stung, she harbored a small feeling of hope that they truly enjoyed her company and meant what they said.

After everyone finished dinner, and Charlie and Lillian left the table to go play in another room, Tommy, wallet in hand, walked over to his mum, who was washing the dishes with the help of her husband.

“Hey Mum, I’m gonna take Y/N for ice cream,” he whispered, glancing at Y/N who was sitting in a chair in the living room, almost unconsciously playing with her fingers and staring out the window with a pensive countenance.

“Okay, love. Just bring something home for Charlie and Lillian,” she replied. Tommy walked over to Y/N, tapping her shoulder. The girl looked up at him, confused.

“I’m taking you for ice cream. Let’s go,” he said, already walking towards the door. Y/N grinned, then chased after her brother to the car.

~~~~~~~~

27 June 1965

Y/N and Carolyn weren’t able to attend as many Yardbirds gigs as they would’ve liked in the end of May and beginning of June, as they had exams at school. Now that they were over, Y/N could be fully immersed in the travelling British rock and roll circus for the greater part of the summer.

The girls agreed to make a venue change tonight: instead of going to the Marquee, as they usually did, they decided to go to the Crawdaddy Club. Y/N hoped Jeff, Chris, Paul, Jim, and Keith would remember them by their faces instead of just their clothes, because there was no need to wear school uniforms anymore.

Carolyn decided to drive to this particular gig, probably because she was expecting the two of them to go backstage again, as having her own car would grant them more time with the band then that first night at the Marquee.

The Crawdaddy Club was architecturally and aesthetically different from the Marquee; there were no chairs or booths, so standing was the only option, and the boundary between the stage and the audience was virtually nonexistent. The ceilings were low and beamed, and the stage backdrop had a painting of a measure of music. Y/N thought that particular touch was a bit cheesy.

Carolyn and Y/N walked in together, squeezing past the army of fans already hoarding the front of the stage. They managed to find a spot by Jeff’s side of the stage, his amps towering a few feet from where they stood. Thankfully, they were able to see most of the stage, including Jim’s drum riser in the back. The conversations among all the audience members were deafening, but Y/N heard a loud whisper within her periphery that she could just make out.

“Pssst! Y/N!” a familiar voice whisper-shouted, which was followed by a wave.

It was Jeff, widely smiling with his guitar slung over his shoulder. He was walking out the backstage door, meticulously making sure the door wouldn’t harm his guitar in any way. He then waited near the stage steps to go on, which the girls discerned could be any minute now.

“Oh my God, Jeff!” Y/N replied excitedly as she walked over to the steps. She made her way through the crowd, a lot more ungracefully than she would’ve hoped.

“It’s so cool to see you at some place other than the Marquee,” Jeff said. He looked genuinely happy that she was there. Maybe Y/N’s dad was wrong about these “fickle musicians”.

“We’re happy to be here! I’m so sorry I couldn’t make any more since the last time… exams and school and all.”

“Oh, that’s where you were! I hope you got good marks,” Jeff playfully grinned, “because you ought to mind your studies, Miss Y/N. Sam was starting to think he scared you off and that you didn’t want to come back.”

Y/N scrunched her nose in a confused way, as if to say “who?”, which resulted in a soft chuckle from Jeff.

“‘Sam’ is Paul’s nickname.”

Y/N nodded in understanding with an endearing smile. “Oh, okay. That’s definitely not it, then. I was just stuck with exams and graduation, that's all. Be sure to tell him that.” A wink punctuates the end of her sentence, and, gearing up to respond, Jeff is interrupted by a sharp noise next to him. Mere seconds later, another familiar face entered the scene, walking out of the door. Chris Dreja, also with his guitar slung over his shoulder, warmly smiled at Y/N as he closed the door behind him.

“Hello, Y/N. It’s so lovely to see you again,” he greeted. She noticed that he had a substantially deeper voice than the other four, something she hadn’t the last time they met since he was talking with Carolyn and Keith.

“Hi Chris! Same to you,” Y/N grinned.

“No uniforms this time I see,” he teased, discreetly scanning how stunning he thought she looked.

Y/N laughed. “Yeah, I’m off from school for the summer so there’s no need anymore, thank God. Now I can attend your shows more frequently, and wear a decent outfit too!”

“That’s great to hear. We do love your company.” Y/N beamed at his comment, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Chris’ eyes track the movement, and he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He thought Y/N was beautiful, but he had a wife and a child on the way. He also felt a little jealous that Paul and Jim had their eyes on her, but there was not much he could do about it. If he was cunning and quick enough to steal Y/N before they had the chance, though, and if his wife never found out…

Quickly regaining his wits, he remembered why he was sent out. “Jeff, Keith needs you backstage again.”

Jeff groaned. “What? I thought we were starting, like right now!”

“I know, I know. We were supposed to, but he wants everyone backstage again for some reason.”

“Ugh, this is why he can’t fucking be in charge,” Jeff replied, clearly annoyed. Then, as Chris was heading backstage once again, Jeff pulled something out of his pocket, a knowing smile on his face.

“Here, love, have this. You’ll be needing it after the show,” he said, placing a card with a lanyard attached to it into Y/N’s hands. Y/N smiled giddily.

“Thank you. Good luck with that meeting, and good luck in the show, even though you don’t really need it,” Y/N replied playfully.

“Oh, I think I need it more than you think I do,” Jeff smirked, disappearing behind the door.

~~~~~~~~

Just minutes later, The Yardbirds came out and played their set, which lasted a couple hours, and didn't fail to stun the crowd. Y/N and Carolyn received a lot more smiles of recognition than the last time at the Marquee, since the boys knew who they were now. The only similarity to last time was the electrified fans who were completely immersed in the music.

Jim McCarty, in particular, looked at Y/N a lot more often throughout the show than he did last time. She caught him a couple times, which was really embarrassing on his part, but not the entire time, much to his pleasure. He didn’t think it was possible, but it seemed that she had grown even more beautiful than last time.

Was it absence that made his heart grow fonder? Possibly. Was he in love? Yet another possibility. Did he know for certain? Perhaps, but he wasn’t exactly sure yet.

Besides focusing on the music, Paul’s mind was elsewhere. He was planning on asking Y/N out on a date with him sometime this coming week. He hoped she’d accept, since she did an awful lot of blushing and giggling around him when they met in May, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Paul was concocting the perfect formulation of words so that she couldn’t refuse the offer. She looked like the type of girl who would enjoy a nice dinner date, and he would do anything to make that a reality for her.

Chris’s mind was the opposite of Paul’s: he didn’t want to think about Y/N because in the event he did, he knew he would mess up a chord or two on the guitar.

God, he thought, she was perfect. Purely enchanting.

Jeff was just happy, almost giddy, that he’d found a new friend in Y/N. He knew she was special, and he hoped she trusted him, because some people in this business could be very sleazy. She was different from all the girls a lonely musician would find on the road. Y/N was the type of girl that Jeff wanted to see after a thousand and one nights touring, catching up and sharing stories over a pint. Sure, he had a steady girlfriend, but something about Y/N was comforting, friendly, and trustworthy. Just what he needed in a friend.

The set was similar to the one at the Marquee, but with little variations here and there, still holding the audience under a trance. After the performance’s conclusion, Y/N rummaged through her pocket and showed Carolyn the backstage pass given to her by Jeff, to which Carolyn squealed with delight. Y/N took Carolyn’s hand and walked with her to the door, showing the security man her prized relic. At once, they were granted access, and they skipped and trotted and leapt down the hall in excitement.

When the pair got to the correct door, Y/N took a deep breath and knocked a couple times; momentarily, they were greeted by a smiling, but sweaty, Jeff Beck.

Y/N didn’t care. “Brilliant show, my friend,” she gushed, giving Jeff a congratulatory hug.

“Thank you,” he replied gratefully, reciprocating it with a beaming smile, “security didn’t give you trouble I hope?”

“No, we were fine, thankfully.”

“Good to hear, good to hear. Well, come on in!” Jeff exclaimed, getting out of the way of the doorframe, “do you fancy yourselves a drink?”

Y/N and Carolyn walked into the room, starstruck once again by all five of The Yardbirds being in one place. This time, some members of the road crew, management, and lighting company were there as well, chatting and planning among themselves. They all greeted the girls amicably, and grabbed some chairs and arranged them in a similar formation to the Marquee.

“Um, yeah, sure, if you don’t mind,” Y/N accepted as she sat down, throwing a kind “thank you” over her shoulder at the roadie that had brought her chair over, voice a little lost in amazement at the current happening.

“Here, I’ll get it,” Jim said with a smile, “you stay put.”

“Thank you, that’s so sweet,” Y/N grinned appreciatively. She could feel herself warming up to these guys, as she didn’t feel as nervous as the last time. But a little twinge of it was still there, rippling through her stomach.

Jim was turned away from Y/N getting the drinks, so she wasn’t able to see him blush. He found it unbelievable, the effect she had on him.

The whole group was sharing conversation and laughs over drinks for almost three hours, but it was almost as if time did not pass. They talked about music, books they liked, restaurants they recommended, places they’ve travelled to, philosophy, history, the environment, conspiracy theories...you name it.

Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seats, as a cue to the party that they had to leave soon. Paul, who again was sitting next to Y/N, tapped her shoulder. Turning to face him, Y/N could see the flush on his cheeks, and the way he was almost curled into himself.

“Hey Y/N, can I ask you a question really quick?” he asked, much more nervous than he sounded a few seconds ago.

“Yeah, sure,” she smiled. Y/N, taking his outstretched hand, found herself being whisked away by Paul to a corner of the room, near a row of vanities attached to the wall. She hoped that the others were all too distracted talking, so that no one would notice her and Paul’s absence.

Looking at each other, face to face, the two smiled happily, as though there wasn't a care in the world.

Paul then took a deep breath, his expression turning more anxious. “Okay…” he exhaled, “here goes.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Y/N chuckled, “it’s just me.”

Paul’s face softened a little, gazing down at her. “But you see, that’s the whole point. It’s you. I have every reason to be nervous.”

Y/N’s face cascaded into a red flush, her lip quivering in the hopes of concealing a foolish grin. Paul reached down and grabbed Y/N’s hands, holding them in his own as Y/N’s heart started racing at what felt like two thousand miles a minute.

“I just wanted to preface this by saying that I, uh… I have been absolutely bewitched by you, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the night at the Marquee,” he began. Y/N melted with every word, but at the same time, she felt as if she had been electrically shocked. When she looked into the twinkling depths of his eyes, she couldn't help but swoon.

“So,” he continued, “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. If you’ll let me, of course.”

Y/N was at a loss for words, composure, and any sort of rationality. She never thought, in her wildest dreams, that a musician in a world-renowned band would fancy her. Just able to restrain an awestruck grin, she finally gave in.

“Yes,” she replied, happily breathless and dazed, “I would love to go out with you.”

Paul, ecstatic with her answer, beams down at her as she launches into his arms in a sweet embrace. He asked for her phone number and address, and, spotting a nearby miniature legal pad, she wrote everything down, signing it with a cartoonish smiling face and a heart.

~~~~~~~~

After Y/N and Carolyn had said their goodbyes and left the Crawdaddy Club, the five musicians were left alone in the backstage area, to relax after such an electric show. Jeff and Keith approached Paul, who was collecting his belongings in the corner of the room.

“Did you do it?” Jeff asked, face a picture of feigned nonchalance as he took a sip of his beer.

“Yes, I did it,” Paul grinned, bending down to grab something of his that had fallen on the floor.

“I guess she accepted by the look on your face,” Keith observed, a sardonic smirk on his handsome features.

“You’d be correct,” Paul replied.

“You wanker,” Jeff shook his head disapprovingly, “why would you bloody do that? You’re gonna break her heart!”

Paul’s expression quickly turned unimpressed. “Because if nobody here tells her, she’ll never know.”

What Paul had failed to tell Y/N was that he had a wife, with whom he shared a home. He felt bored, with all the travelling and the touring and the nonsense, so he wanted a lovely, intelligent young woman like Y/N to “keep him company”.

He knew he wasn’t in love with Y/N. Sure, he fancied her immensely, thought she was ethereal, but his heart truly belonged to his wife.

“Congratulations, Sam,” Keith said sarcastically, “you just potentially ruined a friendship with a very pretty bird.” It was clear that Jeff and Keith cared very deeply about Y/N and her happiness, because she was a great girl.

Paul rolled his eyes, annoyed. “You lot have to do me this solid and don’t say anything to her. It’ll work out fine. Oh, and spread the message to Chris and Jim so they don’t spill the beans either.”

“You fuckin’ owe me, Sam,” Jeff warned, already walking backwards towards Chris and Jim, “you owe me big time.”

---------

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

#that's the way #jimmy page #the yardbirds #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

[jrueships]

thinking about romantic beach trips with pg and kawhi and sometimes tmann tags along too bc. they are a family…

ROManTIC BEACH TRIPs ⁉️⁉️

Photoshops these two together like a classic jack frost x Hans frozen Disney amv LMFAO

FIRST OF ALL... I wanna talk about the differences in drip here. As always, a big factor in the pg/kawhi relationship. ... we need to talk about Kawhi's floral granny shorts... wtf is that bruh KWBDKS looking like a dusty guest room mattress that got bed bugs probably. In general u can say his drip is very convenient. He just throws on whatever he can swim in. King. He doesn't really care for sunglasses, he just wants to get going on the trip. But PAUL?? Paul simply NEEDS the blue tinted shades. He doesn't understand how Stupid he looks in them yet. And the backwards cap of COURSE. He's here to take a 'hot' photo of the water behind him. Meanwhile Kawhi has some far away Observer clicking random pics that look the cleanest but no one knows what the hell he's doing. I feel like they'd Both wear their own jerseys to the beach, but for different reasons. Kawhi might just grab his because it's sleeveless and easy, while pg grabs his to show off that he's pg and he's going on a romantic trip with his 'Whi Whi' LMFAO

But anyways.. imagine them lounging on the sand (on a beach towel ofc tho) listening to Kawhi's music. His mixtapes LMAO. Pg being the first and only one to hear them, the only one to watch kawhi tap his foot to the beat and nod whenever the bass drops to his approving. Just quiet relaxation. Pg dumping some warm sand on Kawhi's knee to help it feel better and then he brushes it off to reveal a hidden sand bug now biting kawhi's knee (kawhi doesn't really react to it. He just kinda glances down at it and lays back down like 'if I die, I die' but pg freaks and has to flick it off real quick for kawhi.

Maybe a skittering crab visits them? Kawhi randomly just starts telling unknown facts about it, like it's scientific name. Pg just refers to it simply as Mr. Krabbs tho. They probably try feeding the crab, which attracts seagulls that attack the crab and make them sad LMAO

While they DO spend time lounging and staring at the waves thinking about how far they've come and how strange yet nice it is to share this spectacular view with someone they love, they're both open to fun beach activities. Maybe they try jetskiing and pg has a competition with kawhi to see who can stay upright the longest? Who can build the biggest sandcastle? Who can get the most skips with a rock? That one was more difficult because sometimes Kawhi found rocks that he felt too bad to skip away tho so finding suitable ammo was scarce.

BUT ABOUT THE FOUND FAMILY (Vin diesel voice)... I think Pg and Kawhi are definitely the kind of parents who let their kids take home like. A bucket of seashells. As long as there's no little creatures in there, they can take em. Kawhi probably helps TMann find the prettiest and coolest of shells to collect, and Pg hypes TMann up about how they could be useful fashion accessories if you save em right! Kawhi is definitely the kinda dad who's the designated carrier, so he carries the bucket and the picnic basket and the umbrella all in one hand for his family LMAO. He scoops his hand into the sand Bank for cool sand pebbles and creates a tide pool AKDNKW. Pg probably picks up a starfish and is like 'oh this is cute!' And then it tries doing that creepy starfish sucking disintegrating thing so he throws it back into the beach/ocean/salt water whatever BRUH idk.

Tmann probably isn't a big open water swimming, and especially hates the icky feeling of wet sand mush between his toes, so kawhi and pg probably have to coax him into the water a lot. Usually he gets on a floatie and they push him off to sea and everything is cool until a curious fish tries nibbling on his toes. Then he thinks he's getting attacked by JAWS and races to the shore.

Pg and tmann probably take a ton of fashionable instagram Beach pics in their extra clothes and whatever and then you just see kawhi crouched over in the background wearing some plain grandma boxers poking some seaweed with a stick LMAO. Local beach cryptid..

They're definitely the kinda parents who have like... a whistle that they blow whenever they think their kid is swimming out too far JANJDAJ. Kawhi will spot some big waves coming and he'll usher his family back onto the sand, safe and away. One time pg stayed back because he thought he could tough the waves out and then he got hit by one and like. Exploded or smthin idk LMAO the end result is just that he got sand in his trunks and that made him grumpy for the rest of the trip until they saw some dolphins

I think kawhi is kinda just. A natural creature magnet. He's just so quiet and stoic that animals are drawn to him. He'll be standing in the water and all a sudden a bunch of stingrays are swimming around him. Or suddenly he'll just take off his water shoe and they'll be a tiny octopus hiding in it. Very good for pg and tmann's instagram pics LMAO

Tmann probably feels bad for the scavenger seagulls so he feeds One (1) and they all get mobbed by squawking feathers of fury. Tmann probably cries because GETTING FLOCKED BY BIRDS IS SCARY!!! Pg probably tries reenacting that one scene in this really bad The BIRDS movie where like... the main character tries karate kicking this really bad cgi bird LMAO. Either way they end up losing half their foods to the birds and half to run into the closest building to hide from them

When they swim at the beach uhhhh pg probably jokes about like.. 'uh oh! I think I swallowed a jellyfish! Guess you'll have to pee in my mouth lol' then looks at kawhi expectantl-

ANYWAYS YEAH. BEACH FUN <3!! EXACTLY!

#me 🤝 you: FAMILY. #beach fun adventures are so cute... #ive never been to a like.. BEACH BEACH like a BOUGIE beach but... #IT IS FUN TO THINK ABOUT #thank u anon for thinking about THEM!!!! #ted asks #pg/kawhi #mann

[great-jenna-bake-off]

Season 3 Episode 6: Queen of Puddings

I started watching GBBO at least four years ago, and yet I still do not know what a pudding technically is. Sometimes it seems to just be a catchall term for “dessert”. This VOX article claims that “A British pudding is a dish, savory or sweet, that's cooked by being boiled or steamed in something: a dish, a piece of cloth, or even animal intestine,” which is confusing, because I don’t think I did any of that for this week’s bake. (There were certainly no animal intestines involved.) But whatever a pudding is, this week I made the Queen of Puddings, at least as defined by Mary Berry.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/queen_of_puddings_79904 

Step one was to grease a ¼ liter shallow ovenproof dish, which I do not have. Off to a great start! In my defense, there is only so much room for baking equipment in my apartment’s kitchen. I dug this dish up from my parents’ house and went with it because it was oval-shaped, like Mary’s example photo, but it definitely doesn’t qualify as “shallow”. 

Good enough.

Next up was to make a custard. First, I heated up milk, butter, lemon zest, and sugar in a sauce pan.

Does this count as “boiling or steaming” something?

Then, I carefully poured my warm egg mixture into a bowl with my egg yolks, which I had already separated from the whites. I whisked it together, and a custard was born.

Custard!

To make this custard more substantial, it is poured over a base of bread crumbs. Mary’s recipe specifies “fresh” bread crumbs, but I did not have a bunch of semi-stale bread lying around, so pre-packaged bread crumbs it is.

I told myself after my last bake that I’d stick to the recipe moving forward. Clearly that lesson did not sink in.

Crumbs + custard

I put my dish into a roasting tin, filled the tin with water, and stuck the whole thing in the oven.

At least my dish fits in the tin.

While my custard baked, I turned my attention to the next element of my bake: jam. Mary’s recipe suggests that you can use store-bought jam if you don’t want to make your own, but I have never made jam before and figured it was one of those things that was bound to come up sooner or later. Plus, I knew the bakers would have to do it, and I wanted to stay in the spirit of the competition. So I gave it a shot.

I used a mixture of raspberries, strawberries, and blackberries, since that’s what I had on hand in my freezer, but it seems any “summer fruit” will do.

I had some trouble getting my frozen berries to fully reduce into a cohesive sauce, and after what felt like ages of cooking time, my jam still seemed a bit watery with big chunks of fruit.

I guess this also counts as “boiling something”…

I decided to run my jam through a strainer, which didn’t help my watery-ness issue one bit, but I managed to mash the bigger pieces of fruit against the strainer to make them more sauce-like, and reincorporated it into the strained juice to produce something that could pass for jam, albeit a very runny one.

It’s a pretty color, at least.

Meanwhile, it was time to pull my custard out of the oven. I think I overcooked it slightly, but I had trouble getting the custard to set as much as I felt it should.

I baked the custard for about 35 minutes, instead of the 20-30 specified by the recipe.

While my custard cooled, it was time to make meringue. Luckily, I had some egg whites just sitting around that I had to separate from their yolks for the custard earlier. It’s always nice when a recipe doesn’t waste ingredients. Those egg whites and a bit of sugar quickly became meringue.

Thanks, KitchenAid stand mixer!

Finally, it was time to assemble. First, I put my jam on top of my custard. I vastly overestimated how solid the custard was and dumped a whole bunch of jam right on top, which caused it to mix in a bit with the custard. I quickly realized that it was better to gently spoon the jam on top of the custard.

Hopefully didn’t mess up the layers TOO much.

Next, it was time for meringue. I piped little poofs all over the top of the dish.

I’m actually very proud of my piping on this one.

And with that, the whole thing was ready to go back in the oven to brown the meringue. Not too difficult, all said and done. But would the bakers agree?

Sarah-Jane isn’t feeling too confident heading into the technical, as per usual. “You just have to kind of draw on everything you know about… everything… ever… in the space of five minutes,” she says.

I think Sarah-Jane might be my spirit animal.

Ryan has somehow never made custard or jam before, which leads me to question his GBBO preparation techniques.

Even I’ve made custard before!

Mary explains that the Queen of Puddings is many families’ favorite pudding, which I guess presumes that said families eat a variety of puddings on a regular enough basis to choose a favorite.

I’m really hung up on this whole “pudding” thing, I know.

As the bakers prepare their custards, Mel explains that they shouldn’t bake their custards too long or the surface will crack. I’m now thinking back to my own custard, which definitely had some cracks in the top. Whoops!

I mean it will be covered in jam and meringue… no one will know. 

Next, it’s time to move on to the jam, and Brendan seems to be some kind of jam savant, explaining that he’s looking for a soft-set jam. After all, he says, “There are some advantages to being older… you learn the setting point of jam.”

Showoff. 

Like me, John has some problems with the jam running into his custard, although his are much worse.

“Mary’s going to slap me in the face,” he moans.

The bakers seem intimidated by the meringue layer, which I find confusing. Meringue just… isn’t that hard?

Here, Danny whips up a second meringue, worried that her first one was too runny.

Finally, all the puddings are in the oven. 

Classic GBBO on-the-floor oven-watching pose.

Brendan seems to have gotten a nice golden brown color on the top of his meringue. Will this be the key to a technical challenge win?

Like a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

During the judging, Mary announces that the glass dishes they gave the bakers were part of her evil plan, so she and Paul can see how even the layers are on the puddings.

Feeling grateful for my ceramic dish right about now…

Unfortunately, James has overcooked his custard, which means it came out watery. 

Would I fall victim to the same pitfall?

In the end, Brendan’s lifetime of jam knowledge proves useful, and he takes home the win.

It does look like a rather royal pudding. 

My pudding was ready to come out of the oven, but would it be fit for a queen? First, here’s Mary’s example pudding… 

That’s a very elegant shallow dish.

And here’s mine.

Look at that piping!

The slice admittedly didn’t look too delicious, but there’s a reason Mary’s photo only includes the dish – I just don’t think this one is meant to look pretty on the plate. The show also didn’t really showcase what the bakers’ slices/scoops of pudding looked like. So I’m pretty sure mine is about right. Also, Mary’s recipe said to serve with “pouring cream”, so that’s what the puddle is around the pudding, not melted custard. (The bakers did not seem to do that in the show).

I thought my Queen of Puddings was pretty regal, actually. The meringue had good volume and was nicely crispy, and the jam and custard layers actually held up on the plate. But now it was time to see if my esteemed panel of judges would agree.

***

Matt’s Review: I was actually full from dinner when I dug into this pudding, and I was worried it was going to be too heavy. But as soon as I took my first bite and felt how soft and airy it was, I quickly ate the whole thing. Turned out, that’s a purely mouth-feel thing and I got a horrible stomach ache. But it was worth it. It’s a bread mush with surprisingly complicated flavors—sweetness was potentially the least pronounced one there. The fluffy texture (which I have to assume Jenna nailed) really let you focus on those flavors. It’s a balancing act, and the pudding landed it gracefully. I have no way to fairly judge presentation, but I will add that there’s nothing better than having a Tupperware full of pudding arrive at your door.

Wilson’s Review: Beautiful presentation, clearly defined merengue structure. Some nice peaks, clearly have a steady hand with the piping. But, the color’s a bit light isn’t it? In the future maybe keep it in the oven for a touch longer, or up the heat. Cutting it open you’ve got some nice defined layers, well done. Flavor is good, you can really taste the summer in the jam. The lemon isn’t really coming through, and that’s a key element to balance the sweetness of the jam and the crisp of the meringue – need that acidity. Overall a very good bake, worthy of being served on anyone’s summer table. 

***

Final Thoughts: As Matt mentioned, the pudding was delivered to him in the least royal of ways, dumped unceremoniously in a Tupperware and left on his doorstep. So sadly he didn’t get to witness the beauty of my pudding in its original form, and personally, I thought it looked great. I also enjoyed eating it – the meringue was crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and the custard was smooth and creamy. The jam was definitely a little runnier than a store-bought variety, but I did like it enough to use the leftovers on toast for several breakfasts, so it worked out well enough. And to Wilson’s point, it needed a little more browning on the top of the meringue – perhaps I should have used the broiler at the very end to get that nice golden color. Overall, this was not a particularly tough bake, which was a nice change of pace after trying to get pie dough to defy gravity for the last bake. I still don’t know what a pudding is, but I did enjoy eating it.

#gbbo #great british bake off #Mary Berry #pudding #queen of puddings

[notyetneedcoffee]

Distress Call

Continuation of the Calling Series (Masterlist)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW; 18+; Smut

ooooo

Being in the middle of a hostage situation was not the way you wanted to spend your Monday morning.  

You lowered yourself against the wall along with the six other laboratory technicians and doctors. The masked man before you with the gun shouted at the others to quiet down. Another armed man forced the two women from the front office into the lab. Lisa, the lab technician next to you, teetered on the edge of hysterics. You reached out and squeezed her hand.  

The morning began with a simple stop at the lab of colleague. It wasn’t even for work. You brought Dr. Paul Wilkinson a bottle of wine for his birthday gift. Now you sat with an automatic weapon in your face. Your purse sat on the other side of the room, with your phone in it.  

Thankfully your watch, one of Stark’s designs, tied directly with your phone and had a panic mode.  

“Lisa,” You whispered. “Just breath.”

You pulled your hand back and touched the pattern on the face of your watch. Hoping it worked, because there was no outward sign, you began speaking.

“What do you want?”

“Shut the fuck up.” The bigger guy barked at you. His voice was gravely, with a Russian or Eastern European accent.  

“I’m just trying to help.” You said, remaining calm, passive.  

“When I want your help you will know it. Now shut up.”

The other man was hooking a computer into the network line. They were breaking into the network for something. You had a singular fear of what they were looking for. Nothing volatile was ever kept in this office. A few research items, maybe, but nothing particularly dangerous. 

At the other end of town, just pulling into Stark tower, FRIDAY interrupted the radio of Steve’s car. He and Bucky were returning from a visit to the VA Hospital. “Captain Rogers, Seargent Barnes, please report to situation room three immediately.”

They parked and headed up as quickly as possible. Arriving at the situation room, Tony and Clint were already leaning over the readout. A three dimension blue print of a building floated above the table. Bucky’s question died on his lips when he heard your voice.

“Hey! Leave her alone. She’s freaked out. Let me help, okay?”

A woman cried in the background.

“Don’t move or I will shoot you! Shut up! Quit your crying and put in the password.”

Bucky’s hands curled into fists. You were supposed to be at a friend’s lab this morning.  

“What’s happening?” Steve stepped forward, looking over the information on the readout.  

“Hostage situation.” Clint answered. “Y/N activated the com in her watch. She’s done pretty well giving us some good intel. We know there’s eight people being held. There’s at least two armed men. She’s gotten one talking. Russian, I think.”

“How long?”

“It’s been active for just under six minutes.” Tony zoomed in on the blueprints.  

“What are we waiting for?” Bucky growled.

“You, actually.” Clint smirked. “Figured you’d be pissed if we went in without you. Quin is all warmed up.”

Bucky growled and stalked out. Steve and Clint followed. Tony jogged to the balcony, his suit at his call. By the time the others were changed and in the air, Stark was already giving a live read out of the building.  

“The laboratory is on the 32nd floor. They’ve locked down the elevators. So that’s either 32 floors up or 28 floors down. Either way, they’ll see us coming.” Tony’s voice came over the com.  

“I’ll do a fly by and drop them on the roof.” Clint responded.  

“Do it.” Bucky barked. “Get me in there.”

“Sir,” FRIDAY’s voice interjected. “I have accessed the building’s systems. Would you like me to reactive the elevators?”

“No.” Bucky growled. “They’ll see it. Unlock the security doors.”

He hit the jets ramp, cold air billowing across his face as he secured another gun to his body. Steve stepped up beside him with a stern nod. As soon as they got close, Clint shouted out a countdown. At the signal, Bucky and Steve dropped the fifty feet to the roof of the building.  

You fought the urge to look at your watch. The clock on the wall told you fourteen minutes had passed since you activated your watch. The fear and anxiety made those minutes feel like hours, but you knew help was on the way. You just had to stay calm.  

Unfortunately, with the asshole holding his gun to Lisa’s head and Paul freaking out, calm was hard to find. Three of the lab techs cowered in one corner. The gunmen were becoming impatient with their inability to break into the network and Lisa’s explanation that she didn’t have access. They were trying to get to an area on Dr. Cox used, but he’d been off for several days.  

The work being done by Dr. Cox was highly confidential. His work to find an antidote to a biological pathogen being weaponized by a covert Russian team actually led to a far more dangerous strain. Only a handful of scientists knew about it. You were one.  

“Try again!” The Russian one growled at the other masked man.  

“I am.” He barked back, slamming his fist into the desk. Lisa yelped. One of the women the corner screamed. There was a distant thump.  

The Russian swung his gun around.  

“Hey!” You stood up. The gun swung around to you. “Calm down. We’re not causing any trouble.” You put your hands up. You didn’t want anyone hurt, but you couldn’t let them succeed either. “They’re scared. We all are, okay. But we’re not causing you any trouble.”

“Try it again!” The other man grabbed Lisa by the back of neck, holding the gun to her head and forcing her toward the keyboard. She let out a strangled cry.  

Things happened all at once.

A shot rang out. He fell forward, a hole the size of a baseball in the back of his skull. Lisa screamed and fell away. The Russian grabbed your wrist and pulled you close. The muzzle of his gun under your jaw. Bucky and Cap busted through the door.  

“You drop your gun and you’ll live through this.” Steve growled.  

The gunman pulled himself against a filing cabinet, using it and you as shields. “Let me walk, or she dies.”  

Bucky’s lip twitched.  

He only needs a millisecond, a minor opening. You looked at Bucky, waited for him to make eye contact. His blue eyes flickered to yours, he seemed to know what you were planning. His brows pulled together just a bit more.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. In one fluid motion, you pushed against the gun, jerked you head away, and dropped. A shot went off. Your ears rang. A weight pulled you down. You blinked, Bucky was suddenly over you.

He pulled you up, gathering you to his chest. Warmth and safety caused you to melt against him. A loud buzzing filled your ears, muffling the words Bucky whispered into your ear. “I got you. You’re safe, Doll. I’m here, Love.”

Tony came in, he and Steve ushering the others from the room. Bucky led you to the other room after a moment. Officers now gathered around, gathering evidence and taking statements. You took a seat a bit away from the rest. Bucky crouched down in front of you, gently touching your face.

“You okay, Doll?”

“Yeah,” You nodded. “Ears are buzzing, but I’m good.”

“I know.” His lips touched your cheek. “You did good.”

Tony stepped closer. “He’s right. You kept calm, gave good intel, helped the others. Good job, Doc.”

Looking up at Stark, you sighed. “I know what they were after, but the local cops don’t have clearance.”

It took hours before all the questions were answered. The adrenaline wore off. Exhaustion took hold. By the time you made it back to the Tower, you dozed against Bucky’s chest.  He gently prompted you up when the car Tony had called parked at the elevator doors.

“Come on, Doll. Let’s get you clean up and in bed.”  

Once in front of your bathroom mirror, you groaned as you got a good look at yourself. Blood splatter speckled across your shoulder, hair and skin. “I look like shit.”

“Let’s get you in the shower.” Bucky begins peeling your clothes off of you, not minding the dried blood. He turned on the hot water and striped down himself. Stepping under the hot water together, you tipped your head back and let the water flow over your head.

Bucky lathered up his hands and gently washed your hair. You leaned heavily against him. The feel of his body making you sigh, his touch turning you to mush. You muttered into his chest. “I knew you’d come.”

“Always going to protect my girl.” His hands cleaned down your shoulders and back. You felt him sigh. His touches became more sure, more seductive, as he washed you clean. His mouth covered yours, lips soft, tongue warm.  

“Bucky,” You breathed against his lips. “Take me to bed, please.”

He dried you both with fluffy towels and led you to the bedroom. “You sure, Doll? If you’re too tired...”

“I just need you, Bucky.” You ran your fingers over the muscles of his chest. “Need to feel...you.”

Bucky gathered you to him, kissing you slow and thoroughly. His mouth trailed down your neck as his hand slid over your ass, pulling you tight against him. You practically purred at the feel of his hard body rubbing against yours.  

He lay you back, crawling over your body, kissing your flesh with reverence. His tongue left warm trails over your breasts, down your stomach. His fingers slid between your legs, cool metal against hot, slick flesh. You breathed his name as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you.  His mouth closed over your clit, tongue lapping lazily at your core.

“Bucky,” You fingers wound in his damp hair, other hand sliding over his shoulder. “Yes.”

He crawled up your body, and your legs wrapped around him.  Bucky nibbled at your neck, his cock slipping against you. You cupped his face, kissing him deep. As he buried himself deep, you moaned into each other’s mouths. He moved slow, drawing out every sensation, every feeling.

Your hips rocked together. His weight holding you together. His scent, the sound of him, grounding you. The tension built, heat coiled. You moaned against his neck. Bucky whispering into your hair, “Need you, Doll. Feel so good.”  

“Yes,” You wrapped yourself around him, body trembling. He thrust into harder. “Bucky, oh shit. Yes.”  

“That’s it, Doll.” Bucky breathed, close to his own release. “Yes.”

The heat rolled out, washing over you, making you shake under his body. You lost yourself in the sensation as your orgasm stole your breath. His groans mixed with your gasps. Bucky’s hips snapped. He held you tight, pushed into, as he emptied himself.  

You lay there wrapped in each other, breath slowing, bodies cooling. A deep relaxation mingled with the release of all tension of the day. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye.  Squeezing him tighter, you breathed. “I was so scared.”

“Me too, Doll.” He kissed you. “But you’re safe. I got you.”

“I know.”

“And you did so good.” Bucky slipped to side, gathering you to his chest. “You were so calm, kept your head, did just the right thing.”

“I was scared, but I tried to remember everything you told me.” You mumbled as you snuggled into his chest.  Sleep began to drag you down. You yawned.

“I know. I’m really proud of you. Don’t worry, Doll.” Bucky kissed your hair and trailed his fingers over your shoulder. “You sleep. I’ve got you.”  

You trusted him, felt safe, felt home... and drifted into a deep sleep.

TAGS

@rainbowkisses31​ / @dsakita​ / @geeksareunique​ / @lbouvet​ / @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ / @theneuropsychwriter​ / @vanillabunn21​ / @sammghgecko​ / @beautifullungs​ / @badassbaker​ / @the-omni-princess​ / @sebbysstangirl​ / @jesseswartzwelder​ / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @the-reading-octopus​ / @bangtan-serendipity​ / @kiki5283​ / @mindtravelsx​ / @josie605​ / @ladifreakingda / @dawnlaufeyson​ / @wildmoonflower​ / @rynabarnesrogers​ / @notyourtypicalrose​ / @sllooney​ / @wwe-fanfiction-queen​ /@wwe-fanfiction-queen / @thorfanficwriter​

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

[noblehigh]

written for  @serenitysought​ .

brian! brian!

an otherwise  heavy  sleeper, the banging at his front door, accompanied with the sound of his son  crying  (  from being startled awake, no less  )  causes the man to jump up in his bed. a hand comes up, running over his face to shake the sleep free.  ❛  comin’!  ❜  despite his guarantee, the banging doesn’t  stop ; still, he finds his way to his son’s room before anything else, taking the boy into his arms.  ❛  shh, shh, hey -- it’s okay, bud, daddy’s got ya.  ❜  the little boy leans forward into his father, fingers curling in, lightly gripping onto the skin of his father’s bare shoulder. brian makes his way down the stairs, all the while running his hand up and down oliver’s back, and when he pulls open the door he sees the man who  originally  saved him.

❛  tommy?  ❜  he’s  confused, to say the least. tommy is a quiet, softspoken person, who usually doesn’t involve himself with such a dramatic entrance.  ❛  -- what’s goin’ on?  ❜  jesse came back, battered to hell--  ❛  -- paul?  ❜  he knows they were on patrol together, paul and him had talked about it the night before. seems like since their intimate nights that they like to keep each other updated with patrol schedules and everything of the sort. tommy shakes his head, and brian doesn’t hesitate to offer his son out to the man, then turning on his heels to head back up the stairs. tommy continues to speak as he does so. 

they got jumped, a group a’ stragglers. jesse barely made it out alive--  ❛  and he didn’t think to go back after him?!  ❜  words are almost  venom  when they’re spit from the second floor, and he hustles to pull a shirt and his jacket on, backpack following. you know it ain’t that simple. brian --  barreling down the steps, brian pushes past tommy, who’s still holding his son, only taking time to stop when he feels a hand grab onto his forearm and twist him around.  where the hell do you think you’re goin’?  ❛  i’m going out to get him!  ❜  you don’t know how many of them are out there.  ❛  -- you seem to make the mistake of thinkin’ i give a shit, tommy. ❜  there’s a moment of silence, and in that moment it seems to become clear that tommy realizes there’s going to be no  stopping  this. with the right adrenaline, the right  cause, and the perfect pinch of  rage  -- brian is a weapon of war all in himself.  go get your horse, i’ll let them know you’re headin’ out. i’ll watch your boy.

it’s all the permission he needs (  not that he really needed any to  begin  with ; he’d fight through the entirety of jackson if it meant getting out to find his lover  ), and he makes his way to the stalls to grab whiskey, then heads out east to the patrol. he knows the area they were patrolling, and he has half a mind that he knows exactly where they might have taken him. 

whiskey is parked on the outskirts of the abandoned town, tied up to an old bus stop bench, and brian begins to trudge through the muddy trails in his boots, crossbow over his shoulder. voices give way to the bandits whereabouts, but so does the name of the building they inhabit. it’s an old drugstore, one that had been made note of on previous patrols of having those who aren’t members of jackson roam through. he’s quiet,  precise  with his footwork, and when he comes up to the building he presses up against the brick side of it, peering around the corner through a dirty window. 

RED.

it’s the color of the sunset he had watched the night before with his love. it’s the color that paints him in such a beautifully  ironic  way when an arrow pierces the overgrown skull of a clicker. and it’s the only color he sees when he catches sight of where paul is tied up to a chair, the fist of a stranger colliding with his jaw. he looks bloodied, bruised --  battered  --  and it ignites a kind of  fury  in brian that he thought had been  dead.  eyes widen, much like a predatory cat before they’re going to  pounce, and his knuckles turn  white  as they grip at his bow. a glance upwards, and he sees a small window, one he could get to with the aid of a nearby dumpster  (  before he climbs in, he puts his crossbow and backpack inside, stashing it for once he’s done ; he takes one thing: his hunting pistol  ). 

he’s silent to drop onto the counter top beneath him, and he walks over to a man spotted in the back room he lands in, wrapping an arm around his neck, twisting and  snapping  before he can get a word out. he saw at least  four  men in the main room with paul, and after some contemplation, he figures the best way to go about it is to pull out his old  reckless  behavior. a swift  kick  to the metal door and it swings open. his pistol rises quickly, points at one man --  bang ; it goes between the eyes, makes him drop to the floor in dead weight. he settles on a  second  man, does the same. the first two were  lucky, because the next two are now on their toes. two bullets fly by him and he ducks behind the pharmacy counter.  did you hit ‘em?!  he hears one of the men call out to his friend, and it seems like an all too  perfect  opportunity. there’s a pill bottle beneath the counter that he takes, rolls it off to the opposite corner of where he’s crouched. it’s enough to  lure  one of them, and once he’s close enough brian  grabs him. 

brian stands, holding the man flush to his chest, gun pointed at the man that stands next to a  bloody  paul.  he doesn’t fucking like the sight of that, and that’s proven in the way his eyes go  dark.  ❛  put. that shit. down.  ❜  words spit out like  venom as he motions with his pistol to the wood bat in the man closest to paul’s hand.  or what?  or what? hasn’t he seen  enough? two of his friends were just killed in front of him in the blink of an eye, and he’s got another in his  grasp -- what more of a reason does he need?  ❛  you know what?  ❜  he begins, tone  void  of emotion, and without so much as a  flinch, brian puts his pistol to his hostage’s head, blowing a hole through one temple to the other.  ❛  i don’t have the fucking time for this--  ❜  it’s at this point that the man seems to cower,  plead, but brian isn’t much for  listening.

he walks past paul, picking up the bat that the man has now  dropped.  (  a stupid mistake, he thinks.  )  his breath is heavy, his mind is  gone, and in one long draw back, quick, he swings forward to collide the end of the bat with the stranger’s head. he’s still living when he hits the floor, but that’s all the more reason to keep  going, isn’t it?  (  there’s a switch -- a  dark  switch -- that’s been flipped, something that once laid  dormant, and brian isn’t in a hurry to shut it  off.  )  this time he stands over him, both hands on the handle of the bat, and he throws it down in a straight line, hitting him in the nose with as much  strength  as he can muster. and it doesn’t  stop.

another, and another, and another, and another  --  at this point the man’s head is  mush, but all brian can see is  RED.  he sees  red, and he wants  more  of it. more of it for what he’s done to paul, for the mess he’s made of his lover’s face, and the possible psychological damage he’s etched into his mind for being held hostage by him and his  friends. he could have  easily  been killed, had someone not come to get him, and at this point brian has half a mind to go back to jackson and pick a bloody fight with tommy for not immediately sending out a party. 

#serenitysought #i rewrote this literally like 4 different times with different themes on each until i finally got one that felt right omg #but i'm STRESSED #but i love it... #* v. endure and survive. #starter. #tw blood #tw death #tw violence #lots of... violence

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

amy :') could you write about reddie's first kiss under the stars?

summary: Eddie comforts Richie after the arcade. words: 1,673a/n: I am so sorry Di…your prompt just…fit :(

read on AO3

* * * * * 

Richie frantically wiped at his eyes as he sat on the park bench next to the Paul Bunyan statue. He felt like such an idiot, which made sense since Richie was a complete and utter joke. All he wanted to do was play a game in the arcade with a boy, and suddenly he had become the town fag.

He shook his head at the term and let out a shaky breath. It wasn’t that it wasn’t true, he just wasn’t ready to tell anyone yet…maybe not ever. It was his secret, and soon it would be spread around the town like wildfire. Just as that thought entered his brain, another sob broke out of his lips and he rubbed at his wet eyes, sitting his glasses to the side of him so they didn’t go missing.

Oh god. What would Eddie think when he found out? Would he still want to be his friend, or would he shut him out because of the mere thought of contracting a disease?

“Rich?” The voice of the very person in his thoughts cut through Richie’s inner monologue and he looked up, Eddie being nothing but a blurry image in front of him. “Hey, are you okay?”

Quickly, Richie rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and pushed his glasses back onto his nose so he could see Eddie properly. His best friend had a concerned look on his face, watching Richie as though he was afraid the other boy would run away. “Heya, Eds.”

Eddie’s concerned look turned into one of annoyance and he crossed his arms, “Seriously, Rich? Here I was trying to be nice. What have I told you about calling me that?”

“You love it really, Spaghetti, don’t lie,” Richie laughed, reaching up to pinch Eddie’s cheeks playfully, earning him a smack. “You’re breaking my heart, Eds!”

Richie all but expected Eddie to give him another playful smack, or something, but instead Eddie just stared at him, blinking. “Richie why were you crying?” He asked. “And don’t…don’t make up some stupid joke because I heard you, I saw you. You were crying.”

“You’re very observant, Eds,” Richie laughed, but there was no humour in his voice. “It’s really nothing, honestly. I just had a rather shitty encounter with Bowers, that’s all.”

Eddie’s frown deepened and he moved to take a seat next to Richie, so close that his bare thigh was pressed up against Richie’s jean-clad ones. His heart skipped a beat. Fucking Eddie Kaspbrak and his ability to turn Richie into nothing but mush. “Richie, you know you can tell me anything right?” He said quietly, playing with his fingers.

A very small smile worked its way onto Richie’s lips and he stood up, making Eddie jolt, “C’mon Kaspbrak. Let’s go to the clubhouse yeah? Don’t really like being so exposed out here.” He started walking away, smiling a little wider as Eddie rushed to his side, walking side by side all the way to the clubhouse.

Luckily, none of the other losers were there and Richie made a beeline for the hammock before Eddie could, laughing at the expression on his best friends face. “Richie you always sit in the hammock! Let me have a turn!”

“Since when has me sitting on the hammock ever stopped you before?” Richie asked, raising a challenging eyebrow. Eddie rose to the bait and kicked off his shoes, jumping onto the hammock and shoving Richie so he could get comfortable. “See?”

“Ugh, you’re such an asshole,” Eddie rolled his eyes, but settled back on the hammock anyway, letting it swing from side to side. They fell into a comfortable silence, something that was uncommon between the two boys, but not unwelcome. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you or am I going to have to guess?”

The smile left Richie’s lips as soon as Eddie brought up the whole reason they were here. He looked down and started to pick at a stray thread on the hammock, wondering where on earth he could start. He was fourteen and absolutely terrified that he was about to lose his best friend. However, he had to tell someone and out of all of the losers, he trusted Eddie the most. He always did.

Eddie was still staring at him, patiently waiting for Richie to speak. It was all so strange, as Eddie was always bantering with Richie, teasing him back just as much as Richie teased him. The silence was not like him at all. He swallowed and looked at the ceiling. “I- I was at the arcade and I was playing Street Fighter with this guy…Elliot. Turns out he was Bowers cousin and when- when I asked if he wanted to play again, Bowers called me a fag and practically screamed in my face. Real…real fun stuff.” He chanced a look at Eddie, who was still staring at him, waiting for him to continue. So he did. “The thing is Eds…Bowers he…he’s not wrong.”

That seemed to catch Eddie’s attention and he shifted in the hammock, “You…you like boys?” He asked, his voice quiet. “How…how long?”

Richie ran his hands through his curls, “It’s…it’s all very new but I- I think i’ve always known? I’ve always been attracted to guys more than girls. I- fuck…please don’t hate me, Eds.”

“Why would I hate you?” Eddie asked, confusion and hurt in his voice. He reached forward and linked their pinkies together, something that they did when they were comforting one another, something that always made Richie blush like crazy. “I’m…I’m really glad you told me.”

A breath of relief left Richie’s lips at that and he closed his eyes, feeling as though he was about to start crying again, but this time, of happiness. “Eds you, you have no idea what that means to me.” Eddie went silent again and Richie frowned, leaning a little closer to his friend. “Eds?”

“I’m…me too,” Eddie stammered out, looking up at Richie, fear in his eyes. “I mean…I like boys too.”

Out of all the things that Richie thought Eddie was going to say, that was not it. His jaw dropped and he stared at Eddie like a fish out of water, before his mouth caught up with his brain, “You- you like boys too?” He asked.

Eddie slowly nodded his head, his breathing slow and shaky, “I’ve never…never saw the appeal in a woman but…but when I see guys in magazines my stomach does this weird flippy thing and I just…yeah.”

They both sat there, in the hammock in their clubhouse, staring at each other as though the whole world had shifted. Richie still had so much he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Eddie that he had a crush on him, but he was also still scared. Eddie might have liked boys too, but that didn’t mean he liked Richie. He had to take things one step at a time.

Eventually, it started to get dark and a little chilly outside. Eddie was the first to move, rolling out of the hammock, and in the process, knocked Richie’s glasses off with his foot. At the action, Eddie snorted and fumbled for his glasses in the dark, too lazy to reach for the light that Ben had installed. “Here, sorry.”

Richie flushed as Eddie pushed his glasses back up his nose and his fingers brushed over his cheek. “Thanks, Eds,” he breathed. Their faces were inches away from each other and the air had suddenly changed…a weird feeling surrounding the two boys.

“Richie…don’t call me that,” Eddie breathed before he surged forward quickly, pressing their lips together in a soft, innocent kiss. They were directly under the hatch, the stars and the moonlight shining down onto them. As quickly as it began, Eddie pulled away, his cheeks flushed. “Rich-”

Before Eddie could continue talking, Richie closed the distance again, kissing Eddie back with a little more pressure this time, but still keeping it soft and sweet. When he pulled back, the two of them were smiling. “I’m a lucky man, I just had my first kiss under the stars.”

“Shut the fuck up you dork.”

* * * * *

Once they had gotten over the shock that they had actually kissed, Richie helped Eddie out of the clubhouse and they started the trek home. It was dark, and almost everyone would have gone to bed at this point, so Richie thought it safe to take Eddie’s hand in his, lacing their fingers.

They didn’t speak much on the way home, simply enjoying each others presence as they walked. However the closer they got to Eddie’s house, the more tense he became. Richie was starting to get a little worried, and it only became heightened when Eddie froze at the top of his street. “Rich…”

“Eds?” Richie asked, turning to face him, tilting his head to the side. “What’s wrong?”

“I- earlier…when I found you crying in the park.” Eddie swallowed thickly. “I- I was coming to tell you something really important and…and it’s been eating away at me all afternoon. Even more so since…since we kissed.” Tears were in Eddie’s eyes now, and it was making Richie more and more worried.

He reached forward and took Eddie’s other hand in his, squeezing them to let him know it was okay, that he could tell Richie anything, anything at all. “Eds, you can tell me anything, you know that right?”

“I’m moving,” Eddie blurted out and Richie felt his stomach drop right onto the floor at his feet, his cheeks going pale white. “I’m moving, Richie.”

“Wh-When?” Richie stammered out, his hands shaking like a leaf as he squeezed Eddie’s harder, not wanting to let him go. Not now, not ever. “Eds, when do you move?”

Eddie was quiet, and a stray tear ran down his cheek as he looked up into Richie’s eyes.

“Tomorrow.”

* * * * * 

perma-taglist

@richietoaster @tozier-boy @eds-trashmouth   @fucking-reddie @strange-reddie-loser @eds-kas @propertyofthelosersclub @its-stranger-than-you-think @yes-dillman-yes @totaltozier @reddietofall @reddietofight @reddie-to-fight   @reddie-eddie-spaghettie @bitchbrak @reddieways @maximusfraker @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @thejadeazalea @reddie-eddie-spaghetti @halfway-happy353 @ellomello16 @liliemm @tinyarmedtrex @cacti-cool @inthebreadbinwrites @kat-ships-everything @takeourpure @lo-v-ers @mrs-vh @studpuffin @aizeninlefox @reddie-for-anything  @trashmouthtozierr @richietoizer   @girasol-eddie @bi-bi-richie @honeybeehanlon @mars-14 @reddiesetandgo @marsisaplanetyall @xandertheundead @sedanleystanley @hawkinsbabe @beepbeeprichiellc @stellarbisexual @oldguybones @ripeddiekaspbrak @captainbartholomew @purplepoisonedgem @reddie-to-cryy @pink-psychic @violetreddie @fuzzylogik @queen-sock @appojoos @moonlightrichie @rreddies @disneyfan567 @annxmatron @lifesucksheres20bucks

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter 2 spoilers #maybe? #not risking it #writing tag

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Christmas Eve

She is everything that’s right, all the things worth living for. Her muffled laughter as she bites the inside of his thigh, taunting. Cold hands on his back, in his hair, ghosting up his sides, brushing against his as they pass one another. His boxers on her hips and her easy smile when he gets the tips of his fingers caught in her hair.

She’s painful inhales and broken sobs. Her body rocking them in unison, always meaning her half of the vows ‘in sickness and in health’ more than she should ever have to. Her side of the bed always empty because she’s a bed hog and the big spoon. 

He smiles, thin and shakily. Forcing his aching, tired body into motion. Already, he’s practicing the smile he’ll force out when Dani gets out of bed. The right amount of teeth and sincerity in his voice are hard to sell. He tries to roll the tension out of his shoulders as he sets to making some breakfast.

“Good morning, handsome.” Dani kisses him and he can taste the coffee she’s already had. She’s startling, her hair a mess and wearing one of his shirts. She’s got an old pair of shorts on, they curve with the crest of her ass so fantastically. He tries to force his stupid brain to bask in his luck but it just reminds him of how much better she could do.

Dani notices his attention and smiles. She leans in for another kiss, this time leaning in with her hand on his chest. It’s hotter than the last one. She’s teasing as she bites his lip,” you do know that I can tell when you stare at my ass right?”

He struggles to smile for her. Fighting even harder when he sees her brain taking in his struggle. She kisses the edge of his mouth and puts a hand on his cheek, snaking it through his hair until she can rub the back of his neck. 

“Oh, Malcolm.”

His mind is a swirling cloud of smoke. Constant reminders of all the things he’s fucked up. It’s his fault they don’t have any kids yet. His fertility low because of the years he’s spent on rare antipsychotics and antidepressants. Dani wants a beautiful oak bed but they can’t have it because where would they put the restraints that Malcolm still needs most nights. 

It’s Christmas Eve of all days, too.

“I hate it when you feel bad.” He laughs at her. Because that’s such a simple way of putting it. ‘Feeling bad’ like his head hurts or he’s sick to his stomach. His head won’t turn off.  He keeps thinking. He can feel Paul watching him. Hear his voice sharp and clear with anger as he grows more frustrated. The pain in his side and pulse of the wound on his head. 

<i>“You’re such a fuck up,” Paul smacks his cheek with the flat of the knife. “You cried the entire time, do you remember that?” Paul keeps circling Malcolm, just out of reach. “Such a fucking coward, always were.” 

The taunt is followed by a knowing laugh. Paul kicks out at Malcolm, sending him into a coughing fit as his boot knocks the air out of Malcolm. “Your stupid daddy thought he could teach you to be like us,” Paul steps on  Malcolm’s chest, overtop the ribs Paul knows are broken. “You stopped crying after that first stab.” Paul towers over Malcolm, smiling at the crimson painting Malcolm’s teeth. “You may be a coward but you’re one sadistic fuck.”</i>

He blinks and they’re on the floor. Her urgent words are lost on his ears. He can’t think past the cold hands on his ears, her hands are always so cold. They’re grounding. The panic seeping out of his chest as those cold hands press closer. He bought her gloves for Christmas, they’re sitting under the tree. It’s just another thing he lov-

“Dani?” He’s suddenly sober, the panic and voices gone. He’s just sitting on the cold kitchen floor in his underwear while his spectacularly attractive wife talks him down from yet another ledge. He clears his throat,” I-I think I… I love you.”

Dani giggles, her cold hands moving to his cheeks. She smiles at him, shaking her head,” I would hope so!” She kisses him, smiling and making their noses mush against each other. She’s the one to pull away and press their foreheads together. “Typically, most people do marry for love.”

<i>“You’re so lucky!”</i> He’s always the lucky one. They both know what they mean. That Malcolm’s lucky that someone without mental disorders loves someone who does. As if it could ever possibly be that simple. (At least, most people have the decency not to bring their races into it.)

No one sees their arguments about using the restraints. Dani thinks it’s animalistic and he hasn’t had physically violent dreams in a year; he doesn’t need them. Malcolm would rather strap himself down than face hurting her. They don’t hear Malcolm’s voice break when tells her, tears swelling and pouring down his face, that if he hurt her, if he killed her in his sleep he would kill himself. 

It’s not about Malcolm having mental disorders out the ass. 

It’s Dani respecting Malcolm has a routine and that he has to stick to it. It’s the late nights she spends researching to understand his manic episodes and googling his medicines. Relationships are give and take. While the world seems to look at their relationship as purely her giving and him taking, she knows better.

She loves him. 

The curve of his ass in a Tom Ford suit or just his bare ass; she’s not picky. Grilled cheese sandwiches when she’s sick and a seemingly endless supply of tea. He’s the solid weight in her lap on the couch when he wants her to play with his hair. The hand that gets tangled in her curls and the shrill scream in the shower when a stray spider makes it’s home near his shampoo. 

He’s fruity soap and soft blushes. Shakey hands reaching out finding her in the night. The night light she thought she outgrew at nine. <i>“It’s a solar system though.”</i> Malcolm standing on their bed, knees bent and just waiting for her to tell him no so he can start jumping like a mad man.

He’s also hard kisses and deep laughter. Fingers that bring her to the edge and lips that too good for their own good. He’s burning flesh and scars. Blunt nails and cold feet. 

“Dani?”

She hums in response. She’s pulled from the depths of his eyes. With her own closed, she could draw his face from memory. The way his cheekbones come up so perfectly. The bags under his eyes. The spots of age and sun on his cheeks and forehead. The crinkle of skin above his nose. The depth of his eyes like he’s looking right through you. Reading your mind. 

There’s that blush she loves so much, it eats up the side of his cheeks. He grins,” wanna open our presents today?”

In their vows, they promised to always get Christmas presents. It used to be Dani’s favorite holiday and Malcolm’s too. So they decided people like their father’s and Paul wouldn’t ruin that anymore for them. 

Dani smiles and kisses him,” this is why I love you.” She stands and offers him a hand up. They stand beside each other. He’s less clean-shaven than he used to be, closer to 40 than 30 now. Grey hairs are starting to sprout out at his temples and he’s gotten thicker around his waist. She kisses him, running a thumb over the scruff on his cheeks.

He grins boyishly at her,” and here I thought it was because of my rugged good looks?” She’s nearly the same as the say they got married. Her cooking put meat on his scrappy frame and his eating habits keep her lean. Her hair has a few streaks of grey and she doesn’t wear as much makeup but that kind of stuff has never mattered to him.

She hums thoughtfully and puts her arms around his neck, pulling him into another kiss. Mumbled against his lips she says,” no. It was mostly because you let me open presents on Christmas Eve.”

He hums thoughtfully and pulls her to move towards the tree. This is what she loves about him. His childlike eagerness over the most mundane, silly things. He loves to give gifts and he can’t keep them a secret. “Go open the gloves I got you!”

She rolls her eyes and does as she’s told. Their tree isn’t giant. There aren’t presents strung all over. They have no kids, despite quickly venturing into the age where their time is running out. They have Sunshine though and a cat named Gregory. That’s enough for them.

“You get me gloves every year, Malcolm.”

“Your hands are cold. I worry.”

“You’re the only person that thinks they’re cold.”

“That doesn’t invalidate my feelings.”

She throws the gloves at him, both of them laughing. 

At the end of the day, he knocked her off her feet the week she met him and she’s his knight in shining armor. What better love story could they ask for?

#christmas eve #prodigal son #malcolm bright #dani powell #mental disorder

[thedeadflag]

Day 2.5 of playing Far Cry 5 (started Friday evening), maybe 15-16h in:

I started with John’s region, and then Jacob’s. Wanted to play with the notion that after so much loss, all Joseph would have left is Faith...play on words, but honestly, it sort of spoiled me. With John, I could choose not to “Say Yes”. With Jacob, I knew what he was setting up pretty  much from the start, and I didn’t want to participate, but the game made me. I think I purposely failed each trial a good 10 times just in case it’d eventually let me off. No dice. If I��d played Jacob’s first, it would have felt semi-excusable, but after playing John’s, it really isn’t and left a sour taste in my mouth.

Further tainting the Jacob region playthrough was the face that it wouldn’t let me kill him. I had to scale the damn summit to be allowed to kill him, rather than ripping off three sniper rifle headshots in a row on him from a kilometer away. He’d slip into dying status and then recover almost immediately after slumping down to die. Managed it four times because I realized I’d have to trek through the cultists and wolves to reach him. Killing him with my neon pink brass knuckles didn’t make it okay. After taking down John’s plane, I stalked after him and finished him with the knucks, but I now question whether I could have let him stagger off and then kill him at range with my rifle. Probably not, sadly.

Jacob’s region seemed really, really empty compared to John’s. With John’s there was differences in geography, there were houses and businesses and always something around the corner. With Jacob’s, it really was just a lot of wilderness with the occasional building. I get why it was laid out like that, but it really made for annoying treks across the region from point to point when there’s so little to do in between. I eventually gave in and fast-traveled a handful of times.

Also, better NPCs in John’s area than Jacob’s. Aside from Cheeseburger the bear, and....Husk? Hulk? Hunk? Whatever his name was, there wasn’t much to write home about. I wanted to like the rest, but there really wasn’t much to them, unfortunately. And honestly, I only liked Cheeseburger because he’s a bear named Cheeseburger, so that was really really easy mode.

Thematically, the game is mush. I went in hoping for some meaningful critiques woven into the narrative (if nuanced, I get that Ubisoft’s a major corp, so they likely wouldn’t be too overt), given the location/setting, but they really put a lot of effort into coating every possible thematic point with a sheen of artificiality. If you came into FC5 hoping for some critique of patriotism, police, American rural/urban stereotypes, white nationalism/white supremacy, American Christian evangelism, etc., you’ll be very disappointed. 

Really really tired of the “X Seed is hunting you!” shit where you don’t even need to get shot for your screen to get all woozy, and then you’re in a cutscene. I might have to grab a mod or a trainer or something to see if there’s a setting I can toss on to fight them and (artificially) prolong the bit before I’m grabbed for a cutscene, or if it’s automatic. Also begs the question as to why they don’t use this magical ammo type against me all the time if it works so well?

I really don’t want to hear The Vines’ “Get Free” ever again please. Outside of some questionable non-original song choices, the soundtrack for this game is stunning. One of the best I’ve encountered in a while, bravo to whoever cobbled all of that together. 

Out of ten, I’d rate the stuff in John’s region a 8/10 in enjoyability, and maybe a 6 at best for Jacob’s. I’m hoping Faith’s will be more in line with Paul’s, but it doesn’t look like there’s a lot of buildings on the map in Faith’s, though fog of war could be obscuring some, who knows?

Haven’t finished the game, I might grab it on sale just to finish it. It’s enjoyable, as far as open world games go. Like, I don’t seethingly hate the villains, nor do I feel their purposes are well developed enough to earn that response from me, but it was a tiny bit gratifying to finish them off. I have a gut feeling I won’t be able to get the kind of ending I’d like, but I’m willing to see it through.

#far cry 5 #far cry 5 spoilers #long post

[fastsalad]

Things that have gone down in my Newsies rehearsals part 2

Because we had our last show today.

-

(Doing body warmups) Mush: “Oh my god she’s going to work us in the fields.”

-

Director: “Thank you my little street urchins.”

-

Director: “Oh my god why is there only one child behind me?”

Background newsie: “We got a crip.”

-

Director: “Wait so it’s all of you fighting against the three of them?”

Albert: “We could fight EACH OTHER! Gettin’ real tired of you Race.”

-

Romeo: “The whole thing is just us slapping each other.”

Splasher: “They just hear (lightly clapping hands)”

-

Specs: “What do guys yell when they fight?”

-

Specs, during the fight scene: “HE’S GOT MY SHOE!!!!!”

-

(A pile of plumbing pipes is on the ground) Albert: “Pipes for the newsies! Get ya pipes here!”

-

Specs: “Sew me to the wall.”

-

(Edna Mode voice) “No bags!”

-

Romeo: “Once and for all if they don’t mind their manners we’ll bleed ‘em.”

Finch: “NO!!!!!”

-

Background newsie: “Dying is dangerous.”

-

Crutchie: “Stooop. You’re strangling my mom.”

-

Background newsie: “I think your blood is on her pants.”

-

Elmer, after being told we couldn’t leave to go get food: “What? No I can’t just food- I- poor- I need to buy- I can’t- FOOD!”

-

Policeman: “You don’t know where you got this?”

Crutchie: “I don’t know where I get most of the stuff in my household.”

-

Spot: “What’s our ship name? (Gasp) Ashby!”

Romeo: “Ashby sounds like a Pokémon.”

-

Director: “Jack you need an undershirt for the beginning. You look too fancy.”

Jack: “Well I woke up like this.”

-

The Bowery Beauties: (frozen onstage with raptor hands, hunched over and shaking like grandmas, trying Incredibly hard to contain their laughter)

-

Jo jo: “WHERE’S THE COMMUNITY MILKSHAKE?”

-

Romeo: “I feel so gross. I got fake dirt on my face.”

-

Davey: “Hey Seana I got 14 hours of sleep last night!”

Director: “I got three.”

-

Ike: “Want some pennies?”

Davey, directly quoting the show: “It’s not about pennies. You said it yourself, if my father had a union he wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Ike: “...I’m keeping the pennies.”

-

(Davey, To the tune of Seize the Day) “Now is the time to go to sleep. Take some Advil and go to sleep.”

-

Romeo: “I’m going to be singing Newsies for the next year.”

(Finch, Singing) “Newsies forever!”

-

Race: “Sticky! Sticky necky!”

Specs: “Flex your neck!”

Hannah, flexing her neck: “UUURRRGH!”

-

Les: “Do you guys like coleslaw?”

Albert: “No.”

Race: “If you like coleslaw you can leave.”

-

Crutchie: (Burps) “That tastes like coco puffs. I haven’t had coco puffs in a long time.”

-

Mush: “You look like a whoville!”

-

Director: “I have nothing to give you urchins!”

-

Buttons: “Ben cook doesn’t care about you.”

Elmer: “He will soon.”

-

Romeo: “I need to keep my hands off the makeup because my face will become a garden.”

-

Albert: “WHERE IS THE PICTURE?”

Race: “Oh the audience could see it so I moved it over there.”

Elmer: “You were like THERE’S BEEN A ROBBERY!”

-

Director: “It’s hot back here.”

Albert: “Must be the picture. All those shirtless boys!”

-

Elmer: “Merida? Is that you?”

-

Crutchie: “Oh my god I forgot lily had hair.”

-

(Taking a group selfie) Davey, directly quoting the show again: “We all stand together or we don’t stand a chance.”

Background newsie: “Shut up Graham.”

-

Jo jo: “Why are you on the ground?”

Ike: “I was being a dog.”

Jo jo: “Why were you being a dog?”

-

Elmer:“Do you remember last year when I was sick for like all of tech week? I didn’t run act 2 until the day before opening night?”

Romeo: “Uhhhhh...”

Elmer: “Oh yeah you were probably like I hope she dies.”

-

Henry: (referring to Mush) “Doesn’t he look like a little puppy you could just pinch?”

Finch: “WHY DO YOU WANT TO PINCH A PUPPY?”

-

Jo jo: “Oh! We gotta record our feet.”

-

Spot: “Does this look like a mustache?”

Romeo: “No. You need to use, like, an eyelash brush.”

Spot: “I should just put an eyelash.”

-

Davey: “I’m the carbohydrate police! And I’m gonna give you a ticket!”

-

Davey: “Check out this new talent I found out I had!” (Rapidly shakes arms)

Crutchie: “How it that a talent? You have hands.”

-

Jo jo: “Conspiracy theory: Romeo is Mrs. Jacobi’s son that she disowned.”

Romeo: “She’s that mom that like, cooks for all the friends. She’s like ‘I got you guys water.’”

-

Jo jo: “Hey guys I have to re-dirt myself.”

Albert: “Why’d you un-dirt yourself?”

-

Background newsie: “They call me concealer shoes. Wherever I step... it’s concealed.”

-

Spot: “I gotta make sure my tear ducts are warmed up!”

-

(Kid starts spraying hairspray) Mush: “Aaah you gotta warn me before you do that! Shield me, Carolina!”

-

Finch: “Oooh I have bobby pins in my pocket!”

Literally Everyone in the makeup room: “Ooooooooh!”

-

Finch: “Henry’s collarbone can hold a grape.”

-

Elmer: “I look like- ok so you know when you’re flushing something down the toilet?”

-

Spot: “We are Brooklyn! We are noodles! We are Brooklyn! NOODLES!”

-

Crutchie: “That’s how you get pink eye.”

Buttons: “That’s how you get Queer Eye.”

Finch: “Oh my god I love that show!”

-

Spot: “Just got word that my body is hurting!”

-

Stage manager: (Doing a mic check) “Wiesel.”

Wiesel: “paPES!”

Stage manager: “Ok that’s good.”

-

Romeo: “Where is my water- it’s over there.”

Elmer: (Points to hairspray) “This?”

-

Elmer: (Puts on a bright pink wig) “I’m Kathrine.”

-

Director: “Is it really 7pm?”

Albert: “It’s 7:30.”

Director: (Sighs) “We. live. in a bubble. outside of time.”

-

Romeo: “Me and Specs are shipped together.”

Little kid: “By who?”

Romeo: “Tumblr.”

Little kid: “Oh toddler?”

-

Elmer: “Since when do you like Jake Paul?”

Buttons: “Oh I don’t but I keep having dreams that I’m in love with him.”

-

Race: “Literally, we sold 7 tickets overnight.”

Background newsie: “Oh that was my family.”

-

Medda: “Don’t look at the phalange!”

-

Jack: “Getting tea from Vic’s is like, ‘would you like to feel like the inside of a hot pocket?’”

-

Wiesel: “Tapes for the Newsies! Line up boys, these mics ain’t gonna tape themselves!”

-

Stage manager: (Doing another mic check) “Wiesel.”

“(Wiesel, Singing) Don’t come a knockin’ on my door! You aren’t welcome here no more! I made a mistake because I don’t know the next line, something something something (does ridiculous pose) I feel bad for your wife!”

-

Buttons:“Why are you crying?”

Albert: “BECAUSE WE’RE GRADUATING, BUTTONS, AND THIS SHOW IS FUN!”

-

Director: “The show is starting! Time to hide the nun!”

-

Romeo: “Ooh! There’s no mic tape residue on my face!”

Medda: “Everyone else is crying about the show being over and you’re like oooooh no residue!”

#newsies #specs newsies #hannah newsies #ike newsies #buttons newsies #finch newsies #romeo newsies #newsies race #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #davey jacobs #jack kelly #i cant tag anyone else im tired

[lordjohntheshow]

John Grey and his boyfriend Stephan Namzten have a great life (and now three dogs) and are considering taking the next big step: marriage and children. Complications arise. This is a Modern AU set in 2019. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 

VANITY FAIR, November 2017

A FAMILY AFFAIR

An excerpt from the actor’s forthcoming memoir WILD NIGHTS chronicling his early years growing up to his days as a struggling actor. In anticipation of the Royal Wedding enjoy his take on a wedding among Britain’s upper crust.

By: Percy Wainwright

Imagine my surprise when my stepfather George invited me to his third wedding, in London. He wanted me there with him as he took on his new life and invited me out for the “whole season”. I took one look around my tiny, non air conditioned studio apartment in the Valley and knew I had no other choice. Within 24 hours I was touching down in Heathrow. I wondered a little about why George invited me, but in a small way it made sense: he had no real family himself and didn’t want to feel left out. He let me have the use of his apartment- or “flat” as I learned to call it, having already moved in with his bride to be.

 I then did what any self-respecting 22 year old with a large, empty apartment, an allowance, and too much free time would do. I went clubbing. That’s how I first met Kay*. It was sometime past midnight, and the DJ was trying out some experimental trance pop. I saw him before he saw me. He was small, but he didn’t have that obnoxious edge some short men get. Cute blonde hair a shade most boys grow out of. Muscular, but the white shirt and jeans he wore showed he didn’t really care about his appearance. He glided through the crowd, disappearing in the back room for a moment. I lost track of him until I saw him cut through the dance floor to leave. On a whim, I grabbed his hand and kissed it. He looked up at me and laughed, crinkling a pair of baby blues that would have made Paul Newman jealous. I pulled him to me, like he was water in the desert. The music was too loud to have a coherent conversation, but neither of us wanted one. 

After three or so songs (who can really tell with electronica?) he was pressing me up against the wall outside the bathroom, kissing my lips, my neck, as if he wanted to swallow me whole. In fifteen or so minutes we were in my flat and I was flat on my back. When I woke up the next morning alone in that big bed, I actually laughed- I’m usually the one that leaves them high and dry.

I still went clubbing, but I didn’t see my blonde boy again. Four weeks before the wedding George invited me out to a dinner with the family. “They’re gentry, you know. You don’t have to bow or anything, but do you know the proper forms of address?” He’d asked me nervously, in the taxi on the way over. “Um.. milord and milady?” I’d said, trying to remember what I’d learned from my days of getting high and watching Downton Abbey. He sighed. “They’ll just think you’re an uncouth American, it will be fine.” He’d huffed in reply. It was cute, to see him so nervous to make a good impression.

How to describe the family. Everyone looked like one of those paparazzi pictures of the royal family on their time off: trying to look normal in jeans and a sweater but the outfit still cost 700 pounds. I suppose I’m not one to talk though, my style’s always been very Gucci via Goodwill.

My new stepmother’s flat also had that rich, lived in feel. There was a couch from 1972 next to what I’m fairly sure was a pair of original Chippendale settee chairs. Every flat surface or shelf was covered by books: leather bound ones in the library and slick, glossy ones in all of the real living areas. Yes, you read that right: this was an apartment. With a library.

We all sat down to drinks in the living room. I chose one of the Chippendales, of course. An actual butler took my drink order. Once everyone was arrayed and properly lubricated, the true conversation began. The son who was obviously serving as Head of the Family grilled me and George about our jobs, hobbies, acquaintances, and was probably about to start on what petty misdemeanors we’d committed when his wife patted his arm and started a real conversation instead of a background check. It was boring, but I was surprised to find I was enjoying myself. Mostly I was enjoying what I am dead certain were a pair of original Degas’ ballerina studies.

Nearly an hour in I was shocked out of my art appreciation when my own tiny dancer walked in. He was out of breath, dressed for work (a boring navy suit, so a professional of some type, I noted), and apologizing profusely, to his mother, his soon to be stepfather, his annoyed brother, and then his gaze fell on me. I’ll say this about him: I’d never want to play poker against him. There’s not a man alive better at controlling his face. For a moment I was certain he didn’t remember me (I mean, I was in a clean cut Oxford, not the neon green mesh tank he’d last seen me in.)

“Hello. You must be Percy. I’m Kay.” He said, warmly, holding out his hand for me to shake. The look he gave me, and only me, had so much heat I thought I was back in L.A.

He sat across from me when we moved to dinner, and chatted politely. I was annoyed to find someone so handsome was also smart, and funny, and kind, especially to his mother and my stepfather. Yet, when he raised his brows to me at the end of dinner- a challenge, and invitation- I was all mush.

The next four weeks went by quickly- too quickly. All the pomp and nonsense of what American hetero weddings have become pales in comparison to An English Society Wedding. There were morning suit fittings, tux fittings, and even normal suit fittings, to make sure I wouldn’t be looked at some poor American cousin. Forget a bridal shower at some swanky country club. There were at least three engagement parties, a trip to the Queen Anne Enclosure of the Royal Ascot (requiring another suit), and multiple days involving skiffs, yachts, polo ponies, and cricket. I was game: it was like being stuck in some specialty park at Disneyworld, and I love to learn the rules so I can break them. Here were a few I discovered:

              -You can’t ask people where they go on vacation. You ask them where they summer, or winter, or, for the younger, sportier ones, where they ski.

              -An American accent threw them, especially when I turned on the Southern drawl I usually kept safely packed away. If I wasn’t from Newport, or Vail, or New York, I was no one of importance.

              -No one ever discussed money, but every conversation was about it: where children were going to school, what new homes or paintings were being purchased, who had just closed what deal.

              -And unlike in L.A., where everyone bedecked themselves in the latest runway looks, here you often learned the richest people also had the oldest clothes. The Princess Royal attended one of these parties in a dress she’d had since 1983. I know the year because I asked her.

By the time the wedding rolled around, part of me was ready to go back to the plastic sheen and bounce of Los Angeles. Other parts of me, like my heart, wanted to stay in this weird world forever, because it’s where Kay was. If this world was a weird Disneyworld, than I was its Cinderella. I’d been scraping things together for so long, spent so many nights wondering where the money was going to come from, how I was going to eat, I cannot explain the relief of having that disappear. Of having someone ready to pick up the check like nothing- and unlike a lot of the men I’d slept with, not expecting a quid pro quo.

Kay and I spent a few weeks before we even had sex again- he was busy, and I was being pulled along to every wedding event anyone could possibly imagine. It’s the stolen moments I remember the most. The way his breath hitched when he saw me partially undressed during our tux fitting. How he always made sure I had what I wanted to drink, no matter the party we were at. When his hand brushed mine and we hooked our pinkies together, walking down this hallway or that. And the night we were finally together again: breathing our secrets together in the dark.

I told him I loved him. I didn’t actually say “I love you”, I’m not an idiot. I told him “I’ve never felt this close to someone,” and that “I’ve told you things… I’ve never told anyone before” and “I know this must sound strange.” He soaked it up, and looked at me, those blue eyes full of affection, rubbed my arm. “I care deeply for you, Percy. My heart… I think someone else has that. I can give you everything else.” He said it like he’d pried it out of himself… carefully and painfully.

I wish everything had been enough for me.

The summer swept along, and suddenly it was the day I’d come for all along: the wedding. It was held in a quaint village in a “small, country chapel” that sat the two hundred guests with ease. The interior looked like a florist’s shop the night before Mother’s Day. (Kay’s big brother had to take at least three puffs from his inhaler and everyone had to pretend they didn’t notice it happening.) All the women were arrayed in pastels, or florals, most looking ten years older than they actually were in the severe, pinned up styles the occasion demanded. One of the coach horses ate the fascinator Kay’s girl cousin had talked about incessantly over the summer. But seeing my stepfather trip over his words, bursting with happiness at his new life and new wife was truly one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. In short, it was a perfect family wedding.

And then it was over. They were off on their honeymoon, backpacking in East Asia as if they were 22 and not 62. I’d seen my stepfather off. I knew he would always be part of my life, but that I wasn’t meant to live in his. I finally understood why they call it a flat: that’s all I felt walking around that apartment.

I wanted Kay to say: “I love you. Move in with me. Marry me, when it’s finally legal.” He didn’t. He was still caring, and attentive, and sweet, but we never talked about love or a future. Maybe that’s why I invited the Swede back to the flat on the last night before I left. Why I forgot that Kay was coming over to cook me a farewell dinner. Why I didn’t lock the door.

Turns out, he’s not as good as a poker player as I’d thought. I saw it all. Shock, dismay, pain, but never the anger. He left, never saying a word.

It wasn’t until the next day, somewhere 10,000 feet above Chicago, my suitcase full of a bunch of fancy clothes I’d wear only to auditions that I realized he always got quiet when he was angry.

*names, dates, and details have been altered to protect the innocent

#writing percy is hilariously fun #outlander fanfiction #outlander rarepair #john/stephan #john/percy #lord john grey #outlander modern au #percy wainwright #percy beauchamp

[recentanimenews]

The GREAT CRUNCHYROLL Re:ZERO REWATCH Kicks Off With Episodes 1-5

Welcome to the GREAT CRUNCHYROLL Re:ZERO REWATCH! I'm Jared Clemons, and I'll be your host this week as we make our way through Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World-. Last week, we answered our initial questions about the series, and this week we began episodes 1-5.

  Going into Re:ZERO, for the most part blind, made for some surprising moments in just these first five episodes alone. I wasn’t expecting Subaru to just switch worlds with seemingly nothing happening to him in his original world. Nor did I think constantly redoing periods of time would be a thing. Somehow, that aspect of the show completely passed me by when it was airing a few years ago. I’m not completely bought into Subaru as a hero quite yet. There’s something about him that just feels fake or off to me. Maybe that’s the point though. I’m sure I'll figure that out along with everyone else over the course of the next four weeks. Regardless, I’m interested to see where this whole thing goes and why this has the reputation it does. Gotta figure out who made Subaru turn into mush at the end of episode 5, which I have some theories about.

    Before we discuss these episodes, let's check out some questions and comments you had from our last installment!

  Acapo asks: “so how are these rewatch things decided? Do we vote somewhere? Or...”

  We came to a consensus together as the Features team. While taking suggestions from you guys wouldn’t be a bad idea, we have tentatively booked ourselves for the next two Rewatches, so it’ll be awhile before we could ask for ideas.

  MachaiArcanum asks: “So how exactly does this rewatch thing work exactly? This is the first time I’ve heard of it and I’m not sure what exactly is going on.”

  So, we are going to watch five episodes each week and you'll get to read the Features team's thoughts and opinions on that set of episodes. We welcome all of you to watch along with us and you can ask questions or give your comments about these episodes similarly to what we're doing. Plus, you can be featured in this segment of the Rewatch as well!

  Deatherz007 says: “Time for Subaru to suffer once more”

  Only a little bit.

    Now, let's see what the Crunchyroll Features team thought of this week's episodes!

  We kick things off with, depending on the version you’re watching, two episode ones or a longer episode one. Did this longer episode do a good job of introducing you to the world of Re:ZERO? Would you have liked it to have been shorter or cut down in specific spots?

  David: The only thing I would change is the cut in the middle being completely abrupt. You can imagine a commercial break there or something but having no transition at all makes it feel very odd.

  Austin: I wouldn’t say it introduces the world of Re:ZERO well so much as it introduces the slums and the characters well while making the capital feel as huge as it is. That said, I really like longer first episodes of anime since they’re great for setting the tone and almost always make me want to watch more right away.

  René: I’m with Austin on this. Longer episodes really give you that opportunity to establish a proper mood and mindset for a show that is way harder to accomplish with only 20 minutes. Whenever an anime serves me a double-length episode, it immediately piques my interest since it’s obviously something special if it gets this kind of production treatment.

  Kevin: It’s a bit hard for my to say, since this is my third or fourth time watching the show, so I already know a lot more about the world than I should. I’ll say that I like some of the worldbuilding that they hint at, like mentioning Satella and the Jealous Witch early on. As for stuff that could be cut down, I’ve always felt like while a bunch of stuff is repeated due to the time loope mechanic, very little is actually wasted, and speeding much of it up would make things fly by too quickly. 

  Carolyn: I thought the point of it was not so much to introduce the world but to set up the storytelling device of semi-time travel and constantly dying, which it did very well.

    Paul: I watched the Japanese version with English subtitles, and while I was initially lukewarm on the premise, I must admit that the first two episodes hooked me. From what I've seen, I think Re:ZERO works best when it's structured like a horror movie or a murder mystery, and these early episodes demonstrate a lot of that.

  Joshua: I think for the story Re:ZERO is trying to tell, and the emotional depth it’s trying to tell it with, a standard 25-ish minute introduction would have been nowhere near as effective. We had to learn not only of Return by Death, but the impact it has on Subaru, and there’s really only one way to do that (over and over again!). This hefty run-time even came without an explanation for Subaru being isekai’d! While Truck-kun won’t be getting a paycheck this time, and there was no other crazy reason like other shows in the genre, I actually respect how Re:ZERO skipped a convoluted set-up in favor of what actually matters right now. I felt that the double episode gave me a firm anchor on the characters and their feelings, which is a useful connection to make early on.

  Noelle: I think the setup was effective enough. I haven’t seen this show before, and I don’t know anything about it, but the first few episodes delivered enough information to get me interested, but not enough to give me all the answers, and that’s fine. I don’t think the world as a whole has been introduced, because it’s still filtered through our protag’s eyes, but we don’t need an opening history lesson in this case. 

  Danni: I thought it worked really well as a two-parter. It was a long, but effective, introduction to the world and Subaru’s predicament as a whole. It also managed to do so without any big exposition dumps, which I really appreciated. 

  Kara: Nothing felt wasted or overly long in that first episode. As others have said, there was a lot to set up, and going for the standard 22-minute runtime wouldn’t necessarily have allowed for enough room to lay things out adequately. I wasn’t checking the time at all, which is always my high sign for what feels decently paced.

    Subaru quickly learns that he is reliving time after getting killed. Since you may have known about this already, what did you think about how it was executed in these episodes? Was anime Groundhog Day what you were expecting and do you think it’s been explained well thus far?

  David: It takes him a few times in to figure it out, I was actually kind of surprised to realize how many times he went through it before he understood he was going through the same day over and over again. That said, I think it’s well explained because of how natural it comes to Subaru. The show literally starts with him realizing he has been isekai’d, but it takes him a while to realize he is reliving scenarios.

  Austin: “Quickly”, he says… Sarcasm aside, I think it was done well since it adds a kind of unique weight to everything. Sure, Subaru can die with relatively low risk, but I tense up every time he gets in a fight or near anything sharp and pointy since I really don’t want to see the poor guy have to suffer both another death and having to redo a section of time but this time figure out what he did wrong.

  René: The gruesomeness of his deaths are what really sells the memetic “suffering” part of this show. Yes, it may be of little consequence for him to die but the way his deaths are depicted just really shows you how painful it actually is and moves it away from just being a videogame-y element as in many other isekai shows.

  Kevin: Once Subaru finally realized his power, I looked down into the episode comments and saw “out of everything that has happened it’s the chips that make him realize what’s going on,” and that pretty much sums up Re:ZERO. The time loops make sense, and they keep happening in part because the main character is either too stupid or stubborn to stop dying. As for what I was expecting when I first watched the show, I remember quite appreciating how much Subaru tries to learn each time he dies, using past loops to influence how he acts in the current loop. He’s genre savvy enough to know that if he does things the exact same, then the same outcome will happen, but human enough that he can’t repeat things exactly, which then leads to different outcomes. The actual ability hasn’t really been explained yet, but it’s easy enough to get a grasp of how it works.

  Carolyn: I was trying to figure out if he actually died on what we would consider Earth? That seems pretty clear but it’s not totally cut and dry, I guess. If so, is he in Heaven/Purgatory/whathaveyou? I’m still kind of stuck on that.

    Paul: The mechanics of Subaru's “Return by Death” ability haven't been explained at all, although I have an inkling of how it works as a result of encountering some spoilers years ago. I think the series works best when it leans heavily on the dramatic irony, to the point where neither the audience nor the main character knows exactly what is going on. It's satisfying when something unexpected happens.

  Joshua: I really liked how Subaru didn’t twig it the first time, so we could join in his confusion as he tried to figure out exactly what was happening to him. It does make a little sad that some neat conversations are lost to everyone but Subaru though; like his chat with Old Man Rom. So I hope the series is able to counterbalance that loss of character development as it moves forward.

  René made a great point about the impacts of Subaru’s many deaths though. In fact, my Mum walked in on me watching one of them and called it “horrific”! It’d be easy for a show like this to lose all sense of any stakes if viewers become too comfortable with Subaru simply waking up at the last “save point”, but seeing the physical and emotional pain each death causes him, really makes me want to see him break the loops!

  Noelle: I wouldn’t call him keying in quick by any means, but then again, it takes people some time to process information, especially if it’s been after a traumatic experience. I don’t think the deaths themselves are that gruesome all things considering (I do watch a lot of horror), but they do a great job at showing Subaru’s terror. When you’re a kid with no combat experience, going up against very experienced enemies, that’s only inevitable…

  Danni: This is my first time watching it, but I actually didn’t realize it was a Groundhog Day situation until we started planning out this rewatch in the group chat. I think it worked about how you’d expect with him taking a few runs to really understand what was happening. Honestly the only thing in the premise I took issue with was how quickly he was on board with suddenly being summoned to a parallel world and a tiny bit put off by how self-aware he was of isekai tropes. 

  Kara: I literally had no idea. Time loops are one of my favorite narrative devices to see played with. If I’d known this was a major part of the concept of Re:ZERO I probably would have come to it of my own volition much sooner.

    Since we’re now 20% (yes, that does sound weird) of the way through Re:ZERO, give me your thoughts on Subaru as a protagonist so far. What do you like or dislike about him? Is his heroism heartfelt or insincere?

  David: So this is actually my favorite part about this show—Subaru’s “heroism” isn’t “heroic” as much as it is “altruistic”. He doesn’t do things because he expects rewards, but because his actions will help make the world around him better in some way. Emilia is the same, and their conversation on the bridge in the first episode highlights this.

  Austin: I really like Subaru at this point, and I think these early episodes do a good job of painting him as a sympathetic character. He’s seemingly selfless to a fault and just wants to make Emilia happy since in turn that’ll make him happy.

  René: These first few episodes do a great job divorcing Subaru from your run-of-the-mill isekai protagonist. Not only is there seemingly no actual reason for him to be isekai’d as he just randomly pops up, it also undermines every heroic deed he tries to accomplish almost immediately. It really drives home the fact that he is just your regular guy who doesn’t get to be The Chosen One simply because he came to this world.

  Kevin: Oh boy are we going to have a lot to talk about in a few weeks. For now, Subaru is goofy and driven and as a result is generally likable. At the same time, he clearly has no idea what to do to move forward, so is just fumbling around until something catches his eye. He’s basically like a lost puppy, so that helps to endear the audience and characters to him. His heroism is heartful, just misguided. He wants to help Emilia, but he has no actual reason to. 

  Carolyn: I immediately saw him as the Deadpool of Isekai. Deadpool knows he’s in a comic and all the tropes that come with it, Subaru knows all the tropes that come with this strange new land he’s in. I found that to be entertaining. As for his intentions, I think he’s been very straightforward about that. He’s sincere, but his motivations aren’t entirely noble. He will help others but does intend to get something out of it. He’s just honest about that.

    Paul: I like Subaru more than I expected to, although I don't know whether that's because he's well-written or because of the pathos evoked by his Job-like suffering. His biggest flaw seems to be that he keeps treating the world like a video game, and he doesn't realize that he is not the protagonist. Subaru also doesn't realize that his affection for Emilia is one-sided. He mistakes her basic empathy for romantic interest, and as someone who made the same mistake as a dumb teenager, I can only see that ending poorly.

  Joshua: I’m honestly not sure how to read Subaru. Puck keeps on saying he has no ill-intent, yet he’s usually the first to make some off-handed weird comments. He’s definitely complex, and I wouldn’t mind this becoming a recurring question each week! For now, I’d say he’s earnest but his constant self-deprecation will make others see him in a worse light. He can also be a bit too cocky at times, like his meeting with Roswaal. So I’d like to see him gain a bit more respect for others not called Emilia, and himself.

  Noelle: I’m on the fence. Subaru is by no means a bad kid, he’s nice and he sticks his neck out for other people, and he is kind deep down. At the same time, there’s a profound sense of entitlement to him, for he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s dealing with people with lives of their own, not characters. He also expects the world to revolve around him because he’s supposed to be special, and that’s pretty yikes. 

  Danni: I like him more than I thought I would, but not as much as I probably should. The fact he knows what isekai is and essentially that he’s the protagonist of an isekai anime is pretty grating. I like him more when he’s being himself than when he’s trying to be a protagonist. 

  Kara: I kind of agree with, like, literally everyone in the show that Subaru is not terribly ambitious, and I’m kind of wondering what the hell he’s been through. His “skeevy” comments don’t seem skeevy to me so much as an attempt to assume a role he thinks he’s accepted to fill. Also, he hasn’t once displayed any sort of concern about going home or missing anyone or anything from the “real” world. More than anything, I’m curious what he’s been through to the point that he’s downplaying himself so much and basically pretends his previous life doesn’t exist.

    The last two episodes of this initial set sees Subaru taken to the Roswaal mansion and beginning work there. Here, we learn a bit more about the state of the world Subaru has been summoned to and meet Rem, Ram, Beatrice, and Roswaal along with Emilia. What were your initial impressions of this cast of characters and Subaru’s interactions with them?

  David: Roswaal is the teacher in Isekai Quartet, and I forgot he was even a character in this show, so I keep hearing him and associating it more with Isekai Quartet than this show. Beatrice is great.

  Austin: When I first watched this show I saw every character sans for Emilia as kind of distant and suspicious. Now that I’m rewatching it, I realise that they all have a very good reason for being this way; one thing I really like that I noticed now that I’m rewatching is that Beatrice seems much more aware of Subaru’s situation and current death loop than he is. Also, Emilia is still as wonderful as I remember her being.

  René: The Roswaal mansion arc is what really lays the groundwork for what the show is all about for me: This isn’t a world that revolves around the protagonist but one in which he must find his place and the distant and mysterious nature of the mansion inhabitants really drives that fact home. Since we are almost exclusively kept within Subaru’s POV, it really is up to the viewer to piece together the mystery of why he is dying again. We don’t yet understand the new characters and there isn’t an obvious threat like Elsa. It’s basically a murder mystery in which the victim is also the detective.

  Also, I have to second Austin’s sentiment: Emilia truly is wonderful!

  Kevin: Pretty much what Subaru said. Oh, it’s Emilia, the twin maids, red one and blue one, and a drill loli that clearly isn’t human. Also, Roswaal, but I got that before Subaru. As for his interactions, I really like that Rem and Ram are differentiated, even this early on, and that everyone is going about their own schedules, since they actually have lives outside of tending to Subaru. Roswaal is the only one that doesn’t really get much development, and even he finds a scene or two to talk with Subaru and generally show that there is more going on than we know about.

  Carolyn: At first I didn’t like them at all. They are all very odd with a bizarre manner of speaking and behaving and I couldn’t figure it out. But after the reveals that not everything is exactly what it seems in the castle it started to make more sense and now I’m very interested in finding out what they are actually up to.

    Paul: It's fine as far as world-building goes. I appreciate that they don't dwell too much on the lore, because often those are the least interesting elements of the early set-up of an isekai story, and here we get the impression that the world is much bigger and more conflicted than Subaru fully comprehends.

  Joshua: Roswaal is just fabulous. I’ve been watching the series in Japanese, and Koyasu Takehito’s voice alone is a scene stealer. This being my first rewatch of the show in years, I was actually taken aback by how cold Rem was here, and I really appreciated Ram’s dry humor a lot more (like that sly comment about Subaru’s “sorry thing”). I can see the twins talking in unison getting very annoying very fast though, so luckily that was kept to a minimum!

  Thinking about it, Subaru and Emilia are a bit alike, aren’t they? Both have selfless qualities that they try and cover with more selfish pretenses, so I can definitely see why they’ve developed chemistry. While she can seem warm and inviting, that occasional cold glare of Emilia’s is genuinely unsettling though. It makes me wonder what kind of person she really is. Beatrice is precious though. I’d like her to guard my manga collection with that baby cactus attitude of hers!

  Noelle: I think the mansion gives us a little slice of the world at large, but isn’t enough to be overwhelming. We really don’t need to know everything after all, just enough to situate us in the situation that Subaru is currently in. I think it’s a little too early for me to gauge the mansion characters, but they’re all a pretty interesting cast. Roswaal especially. 

  Danni: None of the girls so far seem to match up to how I thought they’d be, or how they come across in all the art of them I’ve seen. I kind of expected a bunch of meek pushovers—particularly Rem and Emilia—but they all have some endearing bite to them. I especially like the antagonistic rapport between Beatrice and Subaru with both of them getting the better of each other. It’s a lot of fun watching this cast interact. 

  Kara: I’m so glad to have some good old-fashioned Koyasu madness back in my anime with Roswaal. Emilia is lovely, but Ram is still my favorite of the girls so far despite everything she seems spring-loaded to do over the course of the show. I can, uh, absolutely see why Rem is such a fave and it doesn’t do much for me. If that makes sense.

    We wrap things up with the gore factor getting ramped up and poor Subaru having to give up an arm and an eye amongst other parts to figure out why he’s going to barf city. Since this was a cliffhanger for our first group of episodes, what’s your initial theory on who this mysterious attacker could have been? (For those of you that aren’t new, if you can remember, tell me what you initially thought of this or just give me your wildest theory possible.)

  David: My first thought was Roswaal. Seems suspicious.

  Austin: I’m in a troublesome spot right now since I remember why he died the first loop and who killed him the second loop, but I don’t remember exactly why they did and it’s bothering me… The first time I watched it I thought Elsa had hired someone to go kill Subaru; not sure if I would have liked it more if that was the case or if what’s really going on remained in place.

  René: The first time watching it to this point, I actually suspected Puck. Since Knox’s 1st Commandment forbids introducing the culprit later on and I couldn’t yet deduct any possible motive for the mansion residents, Puck seemed the most likely. His fondness for and protectiveness of Emilia had already been established and jealousy would’ve made for a possible motive since Subaru started getting closer and closer to Emilia, forcing himself into her life to the point of becoming her servant.

  Kevin: It’s Beatrice. She has the power to connect the library to any door in the mansion, and so can get around without any issues; and clearly has at least enough power to throw someone out of a room without any effort, so more lethal attacks are almost certainly possible. Subaru was also acting very strange in the second mansion loop, as we saw in a couple of cutaways. Since we already know that Roswaal was wondering if he was a spy, that could be enough for him to enlist Beatrice to kill Subaru in his sleep. The first time, Subaru didn’t know to resist, while the second time he fought her magic, so she either used a more lethal attack or enlisted the other mansion staff to assist her. She attacked during the first loop, when Roswaal knew that Subaru was unlikely to be a spy, because of how much he annoyed her. The only way to progress the loop is for Subaru to tell everyone about his power, which calls Beatrice off because she knows at that point that it would be useless to attack him. 

  Carolyn: The first time he died in his sleep he was poisoned, but he was asleep so he didn’t vomit. Whoever did that (I suspect Ram, she claims to be a bad cook but is skilled with the knife so she isn’t that bad and that could be cover for her poisoning his food) poisoned him again the second loop but because he wouldn’t let himself sleep he felt more of the effects of it and vomited. He could also have built up a little bit of a resistance to it the second time around. Either way, I think the results of those two things are the same. I do not think whoever poisoned him killed/dismembered him in the second loop. That was someone different who saw an opportunity and took it. 

    Paul: Unfortunately, this is a detail that was spoiled for me long ago, so although I know who the culprit is, I don't know why they are behaving in such a brutal and murderous manner.

  Joshua: Having already watched the series, I know who, but I genuinely had no idea on my first viewing. Rather than thinking too much about it, back then I just went along with the ride.

  As I can't offer a serious guess though, I’ll just make a joke about whether Rem’s really as good a cook as she claims, and it was just a really bad reaction to off-chicken or something. Feeling really cold, vomiting… sounds like bad food poisoning to me.

  Noelle: I admit, I’m really not sure. It has to be one of the characters introduced so far, it can’t be a random stranger we haven’t seen. The problem is that I can’t quite figure out the killer’s motive. Subaru is seen as suspicious, and it’s been made clear that he hasn’t earned trust just yet, but that doesn’t seem to be a reason to kill him (at the moment). There’s a who but also a why.

  Danni: It’s definitely Ram. I have no idea if it actually is or why I think so, but it’s definitely Ram. 

  Kara: I haven’t got the first clue, but I want it to be Rem just so there can be something about her that interests me.

    Let’s continue our final question tradition with the Rewatch. Give me your highs and lows for episodes 1-5.

  David: High is the conversation between Subaru and Emilia on the bridge. That’s the thesis of the whole show I think. Low point is when Subaru almost died on the last go around of the initial day. I thought he might die and absolutely didn’t want to have to sit through that same day again.

  Austin: One of my favourite scenes in the whole show is when Subaru asks Emilia her name after the fight with Elsa. Something about the delivery of Subaru’s lines and Emilia’s little laugh before her answer makes me feel so bubbly inside. Seeing exactly why Felt gets taken away by Reinhard was also a nice connecting of dots in my head. As for lows, I don’t think I’ve really hit anything notable yet; these first episodes are really strong in my opinion.

  René: My high in these first few episodes is definitely the set-up around the mystery of Emilia posing as Satella in the first loop and the first meet-up between the Subaru with her in the second one. I just adore the shots with them being reflected in each other’s eyes and how it calls into question their perception of each other (I would heavily recommend this interview with the show’s director on this scene—do beware of SPOILERS for later episodes, though).

  And since I can’t think of a low point, I’ll just sneak in a second highlight: Takehito Koyasu’s performance as Roswaal is just deliciously exaggerated. He’s already legendary for voicing Dio Brando but the way he sings every line is just pure joy to listen to.

  Kevin: High - Subaru thinking about how he was going to die the second time, and then realizing that he was going to fight anyway. Myself and many other people joked during the series that Subaru was going to start carrying a bomb or something so that every time he messed anything up, he could just Return by Death to redo any mistake. This is a great moment though, because it both gives a reason why he won’t do that and is also extremely relatable. Even if you knew that you would come back to life, dying isn’t fun, so you’d want to avoid it if at all possible, which is exactly the conclusion that Subaru comes to. 

  Low - Elsa’s final attack. Subaru is clearly moving around, standing up straight, and generally doing a lot of things that use at least a few core muscles, and nothing happens. But when it’s convenient, it turns out that the attack went straight through the club, his clothes, and his stomach, when the club previous stopped all of her attacks and there was nothing supporting Subaru’s track suit or shirt. 

    Carolyn: High points, just the mystery and twists that have been unfolding so far. I like all the suspense around the people at the mansion. Also the line about not knowing what Subaru is talking about but that it’s stupid and that’s disappointing. That was pretty great. Low point, I’m not sure I have one but I could definitely do with more of the cat.

  Paul: My high point was Subaru awakening, noticing the lack of scars on his hands, and realizing he'd somehow died in his sleep and reset the time-line. That was a chef's kiss perfect cliffhanger to end an episode upon. My low point is that it takes Subaru a few lives too many to realize he's resetting from a save point. Anyone who brags about playing video games all day like Subaru does should have picked up on that detail by the third life, tops.

  Joshua: Subaru and Emilia doing aerobics in the garden is a definite high point, that makes me think back to the equally adorable scene with Ema in Shirobako. I also really appreciated how the series even humanises characters like Rom, instead of taking the easy route and making him a one-note shady dealer. Despite his hulking appearance, he genuinely seems like a decent guy who just got the wrong stick (or club) in life. The music is also great—that kind of eerie ringing when disturbing shenanigans are afoot is so effective at capturing the mood, and won’t leave my head.

  As for low points, how many times did we need to see that initial mugging attempt? I liked how the show always found a new absurd comment of Subaru’s for the trio to react to, but I hope the series balances just how many times certain scenarios are reset. Subaru’s exaggerated statements can also be a bit awkward, so I’m glad the rest of the cast react like I do.

  Noelle: High point: the mystery! I want to know why the time loop is happening, what’s the driving force for all of this, why Subaru in particular. We don’t really have any clear answers, and it’s the main point of the story. Tell me the answers! Low point is that Subaru takes a really long time to realize that he’s in a time loop. Isn’t he supposed to be really familiar with games? It makes sense realistically speaking but for a story, it drags a little. 

  Danni: Hard to think of a singular high point because I loved the heck out of this batch of episodes. I guess I gotta go with any time Beatrice is on screen. I love her so much. Low point is tough as well, but I have to give it to Subaru’s immediate acceptance of his new isekai life. 

  Kara: Gotta agree, the high point was Subaru waking up without the scars. That was so well played, and I loved seeing that the audience was being trusted to let the revelation hit us as it hit him. Good visual storytelling, would watch again. Honorable mention to Roswaal’s crazy voice. I thought they were playing it up in Isekai Quartet but no, that’s just how he is. Low point is I’m pretty sure Subaru and Emilia are never gonna go on this date and that makes me sad.

    COUNTERS:

Ram calling Subaru “Barusu”: 10

Subaru death count: 5

Different ways Subaru has died: Disembowelment, Disembowelment, Stabbing, Unknown, Combination (Unknown+Dismemberment)

  And that's everything for this week! Remember that you're always welcome to join us for this rewatch, especially if you haven't watched Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World- yet!

  Here's our upcoming schedule!

  -Next week, on September 27th, Kara continues the Rewatch with episodes 6-10

-Then, on October 4th, Carolyn takes us past the halfway mark with episodes 11-15

  Thank you for joining us for the Great Crunchyroll Re:ZERO Rewatch! Have a great weekend, and we'll see you all next time!

    CATCH UP ON THE REWATCH:

Re:ZERO Introduction Questions

  Have anything to say about our thoughts on the episodes watched? Let us know in the comments! Don't forget, we're also accepting questions and comments for next week, so don't be shy and feel free to ask away!

---

Jared Clemons is a writer and podcaster for Seasonal Anime Checkup where he can be found always wanting to talk about Love Live! Sunshine!! or whatever else he's into at the moment. He can be found on Twitter @ragbag.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Puddle Jumper, Ch1

Genre: sci-fi fantasy, wlw, series

Words: 3.2K

Summary: A young woman starts seeing a mysterious figure in the nearby puddles, it’s only a matter of time before she goes looking into them

CHAPTERS: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

WordPress ⭐Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon

CHAPTER ONE: MARNY ISN’T DEAD

When I was seven I lived in a place with no rain. Dry as dust and thirsty as a man lampooned in the pacific, I thought Arizona would never end. Skies as blue as uncut blood, land bathed in brilliant bleached light from one corner to the next. It was the third place I ever lived, a small tiny condominium with five neighbors and no outlet mall for twenty miles.

All the houses in the town had three things in common: the color beige, tiny blinking wall lizards, and an oblong pool in every backyard. Some of the pools were even filled, those were the people you wanted to make friends with but I never was very good at making friends. You could lose them too easily, upset them too thoroughly, lose them, lose them, lose.

It was a barking hot day in late August when I Arizona become more of an enigma than just the heat and grungy pool bottoms.

It was August and I stare at one of the Arizona house lizards, with it’s muddy green stripes down its back and tiny little hands clinging to our wall. I pinch my lips together and wiggle my fingers, it’s thin scaly body mocks me. My mom always told me to leave them alone- more would just take their place. I’m not very good at letting things go.

I follow the lizard, watching it waddle and blink across my bumpy living room wall, I huff a deep breath, trying to get up the nerve to make a dive at him again. “This isn’t your home,” I hiss and scowl at the thing. “Go make a tiny lizard home outside, shoo.” He doesn’t listen.

The house was empty, my mom had given up forcing me to go to school that day in particular since I managed to kick and scream at the door so much. I was eight, I could stay home alone for just a day. A stalk a lizard along the living room wall and bite my bottom lip so hard it cracks, sweet beads down my brow. I meet the lizards eye and we size each other up, only one champion could arise. 

I tense.

“Boof!”

I only jump slightly when a loud bark erupts off to my left.

“Boof!”

I frown and turn around to face our small reddish-brown terrier mix, he stares blandly back at me. He was seven-years old at this point and still hadn’t learned polite conversation.

He was more of a ‘constant screamer’ than the conversational type, I scowl back at him.

“Shush, Rusty, I’m working.” I straighten my shirt like I had seen my dad do last year, right before he left for the office each day.

“Boof, boof, boof!”

I roll my eyes and turn back to the wall, “at least try and eat the lizard. It’s bringing disease!” I didn’t know that, but neither did Rusty.

He goes to the door and scratches at it, “Boof, boof.”

I put my hands on my hips, “It’s so dang hot, Rust, you’ll start panting and whine to come back in,” I wag a finger, “silly boy.”

“Boof, boof-” His eyes are focused on something outside, I don’t check what it is.

I try to reason with him, “it’s just the sun boy.”

“Boof, boof, boof, boof,” he yaps non-stop.

“Fine, fine!” I say hotly and turn toward the sliding glass door, I didn’t know what he was looking at at the time. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I open the door and shoo him out into the dry scraggly grass and empty blue sky.

He’s gone in a heartbeat, Rusty was a good dog. He never complained when we took our long road trips with few bathroom breaks, he always put his small head on my lap when I cried.

He didn’t go streaking off into the neighbors yard as fast as a bullet, he didn’t go running out into nowhere. But my mom always said no matter how well you know an animal they’ll still be a whole other world to you. They don’t think the same.

Rusty did take off like a speeding bullet.

I stick my head out after him and for a moment, just a moment, I think I see him falling, falling and falling straight into the neighbors shallow pool.

But that can’t be true.

I dash outside and yelp at the painful spiky dry grass hitting my soft bare feet and go jumping and yelping toward the pool, “you silly dog.” I chastise when I get to the pool, but, of course, it’s empty.

I stand there for a very long five minutes.

We spend the next few days with ‘lost’ posters and circling the town in my mom’s brown corolla.

Perhaps if I had known better I wouldn’t have lost him. I was a responsible child, that’s how I documented it. I didn’t think of my mother’s wrath or the spanking I’d get, I bit my lip and didn’t think about how we could possibly lose a small terrier dog on a street with only five people.

I cry and keep looking for our small terrier mix for three months, right up until the neighbor girl just tells me my dog is dead. That’s just what happens to pets she said, she lost her hamster last year just like that, it’s how it was.

I cry again, I was a big crier, my mom said I’d never get a boyfriend if I kept that up, but maybe she was telling a joke or nursing one of her famous headaches, I don’t know.

When I was 28 I lived somewhere with only rain and sky the color of rumbling grey mush, it was all rain and streets with no sidewalks, and I this time I had hope Marny wasn’t dead.

-------

I’m 28 and it’s a damp fall day with no hope of sun in sight.

A light drizzle wets my cheek and clings to my clothes like a chilly dust sprinkling the earth. The rain isn’t heavy enough to demand an umbrella, but it does send a chill into my bones. I wish I’d worn some more sensible shoes, but I don’t want to go back now.

The neighborhood is silent all around me, crawling with it’s own faceless quiet. I stare around, searching for even the tiniest movement.

I cup my hands around my mouth. “Marny!” I call in a sing-song voice.

Nothing, just the hush of a neighborhood full of overworked young adults and a nuclear family that always made their kids go to school each day (unlike some people).

My sneakers make an uncomfortable squishing sound as I step out of the grass and onto the driveway. I stare right, left, right again. Still nothing.

Other than a bird squawking tunelessly in the distance, it feels like I’m the lone survivor of some nuclear apocalypse. Well, that’s Thursday afternoon for you.

I walk down the street, shoes squishing with every step, stopping at each house to check their gardens and bushes.

I pause at end of the road to hike up my too-loose jeans. Marny rarely leaves the street but I decide to check anyway. She doesn’t know the rest of the neighborhood well, and might have gotten lost. That could explain why I haven’t seen her in days.

My street is about halfway down a steep slope with the neighborhood entrance at one end, beside the cemetery, and the park at the bottom. I remember when I first got here and rode my bike down this slope, crashing into the fence at the bottom. There’s a slight ache in left hand where I skid on the slick street and rammed into the metal, Julie called it ‘over-enthusiasm.’ I called it getting rid of my new bike.

I sniff and remind myself I am an adult that does not resent inanimate objects, I skirt the fence anyway.

“Marny,” I call again, this time a little more weakly.

The road is empty as I begin the slow climb up to the neighborhood entrance. The cemetery is damp and full of uneven patchy ground, annoyingly mundane for a place dedicated to dead bodies. If Marny is sleeping here again though I’ll still be glad I checked, even though I was starting to frown deeply. I would check the benches, and then the park, and then I’ll break out the ‘lost’ posers. Something twinges inside me at the thought.

I sigh and hike up my pants again. I need either a belt or a smaller pair of pants, but I’m lucky to get to the grocery store these days, much less Goodwill.

“Marny,” I call, mindless of anyone who could be listening. “Marny! If you don’t come out right now I’m going to eat all your tuna Meow Mix! Don’t think I won’t.”

I wouldn’t eat it of course. I’ve tried it, and it tastes worse than you would think. Very filling though.

The cemetery is small plot of land that blends mutely into the surrounding area, my friend once asked if I minded living by a dead person plot, but it never really stood out in my mind. 

Wild green grass, a collection of crumbling headstones, and a single willow tree that rose in the middle like the citadel of a long forgotten city. No one has been buried here in decades and not not even the local goth kids wanted to bother the Sue’s and Paul’s of the bland graveyard.

Marny likes to come here and sunbathe on the stone benches, ignoring the world and showing her belly to the light. Of course, she’s not here either. I check the hedges along the rear.

“Here kitty!” I call.

A raindrop falls through the air, landing on my nose. I wipe it away with my sleeve.

“Please not today,” I growl at the sky as if it will change anything. I don’t know what I expect of Portland weather.

When I’m sufficiently sure that Marny isn’t in the cemetery itself, I turn toward the muddy creek on its outskirts. I’m starting to get a sick feeling in my stomach, it wasn’t like her to disappear for days. In fact, it wasn’t like her to not be in plain sight giving me hard looks that asked: where is my dinner? And, why aren’t you wearing pants? Where is cat God now? Because, actually, I might be her.

But Marny wasn’t here.

I squeeze my eyes shut and block out the memory of a sharp thwap to the buttocks all those years ago. I take a deep steadying breath, “I’m an adult,” I reassure a ghost of myself, “I can take care of… things.” I spit the last word and keep walking.

I find the road and sturdy cement bridge leading toward the park just a skip away from the cemetery itself. I grit my teeth as the raindrops start to pelt my back, I wasn’t going back. Not quite yet. I survey the park, I check the neglected tables under the gizbo, I only collapse a little bit when despair starts to sink in.

“Marny,” I say softly this time and I’m almost crying. “Goddammit,” I’m making frantic little circles in the park, whistling and calling like a madwoman, “Marny! Marn! Please,” I’m running buck wild back across the bridge when I hear it.

Crystal clear and echoing like a feather-light tap on the shoulder. It hits me like a familiar pop song half-heard, the lyrics just out of reach.

A meow.

“Marny?” I pause, calling softly, “are you there?” Hope lifts like a little buoyant balloon in my chest.

I cross the bridge and I squat in the grass, peering around.

“Meow,” I hear it again and perk up, it’s behind me, I walk back across the bridge.

The sound rings through the silent air, piercing and clear. It’s not a distressed sound. It reminds me more of the one she would use when she wanted out, or wanted to come in the bathroom to watch the facet water.

“Meow.”

I turn in a slow circle, trying to locate the source. I peer over the railing into the creek. The only thing running under the bridge is a thick grey sludge. I wrinkle my nose.

“Meow,” she calls softly.

It sounds like it’s coming from the road. I head out into the street and stop. She’s nowhere to be seen.

“Come on girl!” I call. “Come on Marny.”

There it is again. While before it was distant, this time it’s right next to me. I freeze, standing on the bridge and shifting in place, I look down.

A pair of yellow-green eyes stare back at me. I blink, the world turns in reverse and the whole sky was bleeds red.

“What?” I say out loud to no one in particular.

It’s my cat. It’s Marny. But... it isn’t.

I stare into the puddle, only barely an inch deep, and Marny stares back at me. I glance around. It’s clearly not a reflection. My cat is in a puddle. My ten-pound monster cat is an inch-deep puddle.

I squat down to get a closer look. It’s clearly her, splotchy calico pattern and soft doe-eyes, long white whiskers and overly pleased look on her face, everything.

I don’t know how long I sit there, the rain soaking my hair and dripping down my back. A car roars by and I don’t lift my head to even glance at it.

Perhaps I could have flagged them down and asked ‘are you seeing this?’ Or ‘ubduh duh dah?’ as a more likely question I could get out right now.

Marny stares at me, I stare back, she yawns widely- like this is just a normal day at the office for her. I examine her through the flat circle of water.

It’s only then that I notice the gloved hands wrapped tight around her body, thick black things that are just visible in the image. There’s something else inside the puddle. A person, or a monster, or something, and they have my cat.

The unseen being shakes Marny, as if waiting for me to take her.

I bite my lower lip, and wonder if this is really happening.

They shake her again and Marny squirms in place, looking displeased.

I have to take the cat. I have to reach into the puddle and pull my cat out. I have to reach into a one inch deep puddle and pull out a ten pound cat that should not be able to physically fit inside.

I reach out hesitantly, curiously, like I’m nine again and about ot burn my fingertips off on the stove just to see if I can.

I take a deep breath, preparing to defy my better judgement and not just go check into a local nut house. I reach for the puddle.

“Don’t touch that,” a voice booms from somewhere close-by.

I lose my balance, falling backward into the wet pavement and hitting my tailbone roughly. “Ow!”

I rub my ass quickly and then look back into the puddle with my teeth bared, my mouth falls cleanly open.

A stranger stares at me out of the puddle, all flared nostrils and bushy eyebrows.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the stranger spits.

“What?” I say slowly.

The stranger glances in both directions. “Turn this damn thing off,” she barks at someone I can’t see and adjusts a pair of goggles perched on her short spiky brown hair. I notice a thick red scarf around her neck. “What?” I repeat.

The image in the puddle starts to flicker, she lifts her chin and the color starts to bleed out of whatever I’m seeing.

“Hey!” I yell, “Wait wait,” the colors begin to melt and disperse into ripples, “you have my cat!”

The image disappears like a mirage in the desert, and I’m left, soaking wet and utterly alone. The puddle lay empty, as if I hadn’t just lost my mind (and perhaps my cat) in one single moment.

I take a second to think about Rusty and what my mom would possibly say. Probably something about not crying.

--

It takes me ten minutes to pick up a nearby stick and poke the puddle, curiously tapping on its surface and waiting for a tentacle to come out of it or figure to announce ‘Yer a wizard Lori.’ Nothing but a few ripples arise.

“Well dammit,” I scratch the back of my neck and I swear I hear another mew. But it takes another ten minutes for me to realize that nothing new was going to rise out of the water.

It takes me five minutes to walk home and put an ice pack on my bruises where I landed on my ass.

It was a long Thursday and even longer evening as I stare at the ceiling and think about nothing. Work would call soon and ask if I was coming back yet.

I’m dozing, a computer open in my lap with several google searches open starting with ‘Top tests for your mental health’ and pages called ‘Is God Contacting you? Take this quiz and find out!”

My consciousness is scattered to the breeze when I hear small, tiny, scratch at the door. I start awake, knocking ice pack down to the floor and sitting up straight.

Another push comes at the door.

“Rusty?” I squint at the door and pause, “Marny.”

I run to the front door to rip it open, a cool breeze hits my face and I stand listlessly in front of an empty perch. 

And then another soft mew arises behind me.

When I turn around I see a plump, round, calico cat sitting on my kitchen counter, she’s twitching her tail and blinking at me.

“Marny!” I say her name like a curse this time and fold my arms over my chest as if I plan to ask her what she think she’s doing. She loudly asks for diner in reply.

“What do, how did you, ugh.” I pull at my long black hair and go stomping back over to her. “I hope you have a good explanation for all this young lady.”

“Mrrrrow.”

I ruffle my hair, “that’s what I thought.” I shake my head and reach under the counter for her dish. I push down any other feelings.

She had probably been sleeping in my closet this whole time. Or under my clothes pile from yesterday. Or anywhere not a watery 1-inch puddle on a random bridge.

I’m ready to keep chewing her out and then push my nose into her butter soft fur and inhale, but then, of course, I notice something stuck in her collar.

My eyes go wide, “what have you been…up to?” I furrow my brow and reach slowly, hesitantly, toward a thin white piece of paper wrapped around her orange collar. I poke it.

I exhale, “it’s just paper.” I shake my head and delicately remove it from around the band. It feels strange and soft in my hands, but I ignore any shifting in my stomach as I slowly unroll it.

I frown decidedly at five simple words: Stop. Sending. Us. Your. Cat.

“I’m not sending her anywhere,” I argue with no one, I turn my chin sharply up, “You hear that?” I yell at the ceiling, “she just gets out sometimes.” I grumble and try to shake sense back into my head, I go to toss out the piece of paper.

The neighborhood kids could be very strange I decided. I throw it out, get out the meow mix and lock the doors twice that night. The memory fades like the image in the puddle itself.

That is until the next time Marny disappears.

#writers on tumblr #wlw #science fiction #sci fi series #sapphic #short story #original story #writeblr #Puddle Jumper #f/f #my work

[dailyaudiobible]

02/28/2018 DAB Transcript

Leviticus 22:21-23:44, Mark 9:30-10:12, Psalms 44:1-7, Proverbs 10:19

Today is the 28th day of February. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian and it's great to be here with you today from the holy city of Jerusalem. We arrived in the evening last night and it's an early day and a long one for us today. But we'll talk about all of that in just a little bit. We’ve kind of rounded the corner and have reached our final destination, which will be in and around Jerusalem. At least that's where we’ll be calling home base until the end of our pilgrimage this year. And it's great to be back here. But let me not get ahead of myself and talk about all that. Let’s get into the Scriptures for today. We've been reading from the Modern English Version this week, which is what we will continue to do, even as we continue to move around the land of the Bible here in Israel. Of course, in the Old Testament, in the book of Leviticus, we're reading the statutes, ordinances, laws that are to shape and form this new people who,, of course, have been brought out of slavery in Egypt in epic fashion and now they’re being shaped and formed into a culture and a people, but with one purpose in mind, that they be holy as God is holy. And so, we pick up with that story. Leviticus chapter 22 verse 17 through 23 verse 44 today.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You again for Your word and we thank You again for the reminder that what we say matters, that our realities are being created by our words and that matters. And us paying attention to what's coming out of our mouth matters. And we take that to heart today as we live into this day and invite Your Holy Spirit's to speak to us about that and continually remind us to take a beat, to take a pause before we start just saying words because they matter. Come Holy Spirit. We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Announcements:

Okay. So, man, this is the point in the trip where my brain is turning into mush because we…so much…so much to drink and it's a firehose experience, without a doubt. So, yesterday in the morning we packed up all of our stuff put everything back on the buses and left the Sea of Galilee and the Galilee region itself, drove down along the eastern shores of the Sea of Galilee before heading west and leaving it behind. And our first stop was to travel through the Jezreel Valley all the way to Harr Megiddo, also known as Armageddon. And the ancient ruins of the city of Megiddo still exist and we took some time there to look at them. Megiddo was a city right along the ancient trade route between Egypt and all of the lands beyond here to the north and east. So, it was an important city to control because if you control that then you kind of control a lot of the trade route coming through the area. So, it has had a long history of conquest and battle. And, of course, it sits in a valley that's pretty famous, the valley of Armageddon. So, we looked at the ruins of Megiddo and were able to go down into the water cisterns, the water tunnels and cisterns  that were carved out. It's pretty amazing when you can see that and realize, talking 3000 years ago, and we’re not talking about bulldozers and cranes and, you know, backhoes and all kinds of earthmoving equipment and engineering. We’re talking about a long, long time ago. And, so, the ingenuity is pretty remarkable. And, so, around the ruins you see how people lived, look out across the valley, and then down into the tunnels we went. And it’s not that…I mean you have to climb down in there on stairs…but it's not too long of a of a walk, but it's a remarkable one just to understand that the way that this got here was by people and hard work a long, long, long time ago. And then it was kind of…it's been a little bit rainy…off and on. And, so, we get a little tiny bit rained on, not bad at all, but we are thinking about Mt. Carmel and if it's going to be cloudy up there, and if it’s going to rainy up there. And, so, we did a little switcheroo and had an early lunch, allowing the morning showers to kind of blow through before heading up Mt. Carmel. And Mt Carmel is famous for a showdown between the prophet Elijah and the prophets of Baal and Asherah in which fire comes down from heaven. We haven’t gotten to all this. We’ll get to it when we get to the book of Kings, books of Kings. But fire comes down from heaven, people return to God, the prophets of Baal meet an end they weren’t planning on, but idol worship isn’t something…worshiping anything else besides God, turning your heart in worship to any other God is not something that God tolerates well because it pulls us away from our true identity, which is to be in union together with Him. And, so, that’s happened p on Mt Carmel. So, we opened the Scriptures and read that story and then just discussed what happened next, because Elijah got to see the power of God and then he got up, you know, he got a nasty note from the Queen named Jezebel, that she was going to kill him. And he took off and ran. And, you know, just, when you're here you’re beginning to understand the context that he left Mt Carmel up in the in the north and ran all the way to Beersheba in the South where we started and then all the way down into the desert where we were at the at the Red Sea and then off deep into the Sinai Peninsula to the mountain of God. So, a long, long, long way. And God comes to him on the mountain and says, what are you doing here? And that's a poignant question. Because the same kinds of things do happen in our lives. We see God move, we feel him moving in our lives, we see things happening in our lives, and then we that nasty note. Right? Some social media posts on something or another to sideswipe us. And off on the run we go. And then God comes and says, what are you doing here? So, we considered that as we considered, right, you know, that we were right there, where this happened. And then we were able to go up to this little observatory and look out over the vast Valley of Armageddon and take some pictures and just contemplate where we were in Scripture, where we were in the Bible, what was happening before moving on. And next stop was to take us all the way west to the border of the Mediterranean Sea, to the ancient Roman city of Caesarea Mayor Timo, which was kind of a jewel of the Galilee or the jewel of Israel for the Roman culture, the Roman empire period in this land. And the ruins are exquisite. You kind of get a sense of maybe what this would've been like. And it's pretty magnificent to say the least. And it allowed us the opportunity to touch the book of acts. The Caesarea Mayor Timo's is where the apostle Paul was imprisoned for a couple of years after being arrested in Jerusalem and avoiding an assassination attempt. Of course, I’m a little ahead of where we are in the Scriptures right now, because, at least in the New Testament, we’re in the gospel of Mark, but we we’ll eventually get to the book of Acts and begin to understand the apostle Paul's influence in the early church. And it’s from Caesarea Mayor Timo's that the apostle Paul appealed to Caesar and sailed for Rome. So, we were able to touch that piece and that portion of time, a piece of Scripture. And that wasn’t our final stop for the day then, but it's about a two hour drive from there up to Jerusalem. So, we settled in and began the long journey up, up, up, up to Jerusalem, where we ended our day as it was just getting dark. And lots of naps were taken, but coming into Jerusalem always, reinvigorates everything. And, so, some dinner, some fellowship, and then an early early morning this morning because we’ll…it has to be…because we’ll start our day up on the Temple Mount. And, so, we have to get in line and all of that a bit early. But we’ll talk about what we do today, tomorrow, because it's hard to talk about things you're going to do before you've done them, but it's going to be a great day around Jerusalem today, intersecting the Jesus story here, some of the things and places here. And probably it's best that we do this now, while we have the adrenaline rush of just arriving in the holy city. So, looking forward to that. Thank you for your prayers as we continue this journey for the next few days.

And man here we are guys. Last day of February, which means that we are concluding two months together on our journey through the Scriptures this year. So, we’re 1/6 of the way through the Bible. And just want to say, well done on that. The rhythm continues as we continue to press into it and God continues to speak to us through his word. So, well done.

If want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can certainly do that dailyaudiobible.com. There is a link that's on the homepage. And, you know, I run out of words and ways to express gratitude. The reality is the reality. We what we do because we do it together. That had always been the case around here. So, thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996, Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

And that’s it for today. I’m Brian, a tired Brian, but Brian. I love you and I’ll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi this is Joey from Missouri it is 4:38 here on a very cold day. I want…here…on February the 23rd, 2018. I just want to sing a little song here before I start. These songs are some of my mom’s songs that she sang on the piano for many years. So, here goes. [singing] Who is likened to the oh Lord among God’s. Who is likened to the glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders, who is likened to the? [singing stops]. Oh…oh…praise the Lord…praise the Lord. Candace from Oregon you are on my mind today. And I just wanted to say I love you. And when your husband passed away almost a year ago today I was in Kuwait. I was in Kuwait at that time and I just remember coming home to my dorm after work that day and was just so, so sad about that. So, Lord God, just be with Candace from Oregon today. And, so, Lord God, we just thank you for Candace and also thank you for Brian. And I love you all. Take care. Okay. Talk to you soon. Bye-bye.

Hi, this is Melody from Canada. It is February 24th and I have so much joy hearing Brian talk about the group and Israel going into the Jordan River and leaving everything behind. And I can almost he feel the cold water myself in my heart, imagination, spirit. Just bless you, all who made that commitment. And may you find strength to continue in that and to stand that and that for the Lord is with you. I have Psalm 35:27 on my heart. It says, let them shout for joy and be glad. His favor my righteous cause. Yes, let them say continually, the Lord be magnified with pleasure and the prosperity of his servant. And thinking of Rachel a first-time caller who struggling with depression and OCD. And Rachel, the Lord has pleasure in your prosperity, His pleasure in your health. And whatever road it takes to get there he is with you always. Bless you. Bye.

Hi friends this is Lisa the encourager and I hope everybody that’s in Israel is having a wonderful blessed time and a safe trip. I’m praying for you. I just wanted to read something I thought was encouraging tonight called A Cut Above. And it says, the word holy means to separate. The ancestry of return can be traced back to the ancient word which means to cut. To be holy then is to be cut above the norm, superior extraordinary. The holy one dwells on a different level than the rest of us. What frightens us does not frighten Him. What troubles us does not trouble Him. When you set your sights on our God you focus on one a cut above. Any storm life may bring, you will find peace in Him. And also Psalm 46:10 says, be still and know that I am God. So, I hope that’s encouraging to you tonight. And with that, I also wanted to pray some prayers for some folks. I wanted to pray for Lydia from Indiana. She had called in about her daughter Suzy E. and she was just wanting her to obey God and not take on the ways of the world. So, I want to pray for Suzy E., Lydia’s daughter. And also just wanted to just say thank you to Michelle…oh…excuse me…I’m sorry…Monica from Kentucky for her prayers. There always so sweet Monica and I just appreciate all of your…the times you call in and the different things that your praying about and just want to let you know it’s very encouraging. And lastly, I just want to pray for Diane in Ohio. She has a son that’s taking drugs and a grandson as well. And they really need help in turning their life around and she feels like they’ve really changed a great...

He Daily Audio Bible this is Paul from Houston. And I’ve called to pray for Curtis from Cali. I think your sons name was Kingston. And you were mentioning that he is dealing with a lot of anxiety depression sort of things, but he’s only eight. And I just want to pray. I struggled with a lot of anxiety growing up and different things. And Lord…let’s go to God right now. Thank you Jesus. I ask that You will be with Kingston Lord I thank You Lord that You protect his mind Lord, that You would guide him around with Your Angels. I thank You Lord that his mind would be centered on You. I thank You Lord that no weapon formed against him can prosper. And I thank You Lord that those thoughts that try to bombard him, those thoughts to try to create anxiety, that those thoughts have to go in the name of Jesus. And I thank You Lord for peace over the house, over Kingston, peace when he sleeps, peace when he rises. Lord I thank You Lord that You would help them to, you know, explore the things that an eight-year-old boy would love to do. Lord I thank You Lord that You would give him the outlets, the hobbies, the things that You want him to work with Lord. And I thank You Lord for developing him. And that You have something special for Kingston Lord, a special future for him Lord, like scouting with different things Lord, that You know, You know Kingston Lord. And I thank You Lord, You know, the way You made him and what purpose You made him for and I thank You Lord that when his family draws closer to You Lord that You would reveal what Your will is and that You would open a door for them, but I thank You Lord for peace in their home and peace in his mind and peace as he sleeps in Jesus name. Daily Audio Bible have a great day. It’s Paul from Houston. Bye.

Hey, I need you guys to pray for me. I’ve been walking with Jesus for a long time now and I was involved in a lot of pornography and masturbation before I knew him and even in the years since. the struggle has been real. It’s not all the time. There is victory sometimes, sometimes for long stretches, but it’s been going into my marriage. My wife new about them. But we have kids now and I’m working harder than ever and she works harder than ever looking after them. And it’s gotten to a point where I don’t want to talk about with her anymore and burden her mostly. And sometimes I feel like I’m screwed up in other ways so much that I can’t even talk to her anymore and it’s probably unfair, but I know I need to confess out to my brothers and sisters. Today’s reading in the Old Testament about skin disease and mildew. I skipped it. I just fast-forwarded. And then Brian talked about how that was sort of the heart of the message and how it has to do with the heart of me. And I can’t let stuff grow in the dark anymore. So, pray for me family. Bring it to the high priest so he can bring into His father. Thanks guys. I love you. Bye.

[supernatural0224]

J2 fics

1. Mildred: A College AU It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Jared in possession of his heterosexuality will immediately switch teams upon enrollment in college and first contact with Jensen Ackles. [cute, adorable. Long, but really simple.] 2. Disclaimer  Jared and Jensen are willing to do almost anything to help their friends. Almost. But what Chris is asking of them this time? It's the one thing they both swore they'd never do: Grow up.  [I don't know about the individuals in here, but the relationship they have was ah-mazing.]

3.No Codename  Jared's got a brand new show, tons of things to keep him busy, and pretty much the most awesome costar he's ever met. Okay, so maybe he has some less than entirely pure thoughts about said costar sometimes, but he's, like, eighty-three percent sure Jensen thinks impure thoughts about him, too. Sometimes. Possibly. Now he just has to stop being so chicken-shit and actually make a move.   [oh my God! I can't remember when was the last time I had this much fun while reading something! And the best part is that I can imagine our Jared and Jensen being like this, in real life 😍] 4. Operation: Mistletoe  FBI Agent Jensen Ackles is a damn good agent, but his devil-may-care attitude, gut instinct, and sheer dumb luck have finally run out. With his job and reputation on the line, Jensen is assigned to a new partner: the overzealous and overachieving Agent Jared Padalecki.Their mission: Infiltrate a ring of drug dealers hiding out in Suburbia in the midst of the Holiday season.The only catch? They have to pretend to be head-over-heels in love with each other. [cuuute 😍] 5. Project Get Jared Banged Jared's had the best stepbrother in the world in Jensen since the age of five — growing up together and more attached than usual brothers would —, only realizing that he’s in love with Jensen by the time he hits thirteen.After five more years of Jared's impossible crush, he knows his life turns and spins around his brother. Luckily for Jared, he and Jensen have always been closer than other siblings, making his feelings seem a little less hopeless. Or that is until Jensen announces he’s moving to Austin to live with his girlfriend next year, leaving Jared's perfectly built Jensen-centric world crashing to the ground.That’s when Chad and Sandy decide to convince Jared that moving on and letting go of his feelings are the only way to get through his lost love for Jensen. Yet their plan to get Jared out of his shell and over his stepbrother doesn't sit well with one person: Jensen himself, who realizes that the more Jared tries to pull away, the more he wants to get him back closer. [The first time I read the summary, I squirmed away. But then, it turned out to be one of the sweetest, with angst served on side dish I have had in a while ;) ] 6.The Winchester Identity  A tall and handsome doctor is kidnapped by a mysterious green-eyed man who has no memory—but who definitely has a past. The J2 AU version of "The Bourne Identity".   [W-O-W!! This was so freaking amazing and absolutely amazingly written. It had been such a long time since I've read a good thriller - and since I hadn't read or watched the original, so I was totally unspoiled. I loved everything about it. Though it is freakishly long, but it is SO worth it.] 7. A Hole Straight up to the Sky   Captured by scientists determined to save the human race from impending extinction, two weres - seemingly strangers - are caged together in the hopes that they'll mate. What happens between them is unprecedented and changes the course of both their races forever. [I liked it. It was good. Worth a read.] 8. The Gloaming  gloam·ing ˈɡlō miNG/ - the part of the day after the sun has gone down and before the sky is completely dark: dusk Other popular connotations: gloam, glow, glowing, glomming, glommedJared always knew he would one day experience a gloaming and find his soulmate. No one told him, and in fact, no one else in his family that he knew of had ever glommed; but he just knew, and he was willing to wait, despite all the offers thrown his way and all the well-meaning advice by friends and family; Jared waited.After all the tragedy Jensen had endured recently, he was now content to live a simple life taking care of his family and working a job that he loved. He sure never thought he'd ever find love again, let alone a true love; if one were to believe in Gloamings, which Jensen never really did until it happened to him.Jared and Jensen - strangers from seemingly different worlds decide to give love a chance. But will outside forces and unforeseen enemies drive them apart or bring them together forever?They only have 60 days to consummate or the Gloaming will Fade... and they will both lose out on what could possibly be a love for the ages. [pure fluff. Like seriously, even the angst feels fluffy but um, yeah. Go ahead. It is fun. [Sequel awaiting]]

9. The Lost Big screen star Jensen Ackles was on his way to Brazil to continue filming his latest project. He was glad to lose himself in the role and bury the pain of his broken heart by slipping on a stranger’s skin. Because of his manager’s twisted attempt to help, he found himself on a private jet with a high-class rent boy. Before he could figure out what to do with that, a bolt of lightning sent them tumbling into the rain forest. With them believing there were no other survivors, Jensen has to figure how to get them back to civilization. It was a good thing he was as strong and capable as the leading men he portrayed on screen, because how much help could an expensive hooker really be in the middle of the Amazon? [okay? This? This is pretty amazing. (Apart from certain someone being over possessive and protective, but that’s probably just me) And I enjoyed this story more for, well, the story than the fact that I love to read about pairing. So, big kudos to the author. ] 10. Hope You Don't Mind   Jared has no problems being an introvert in a family of extroverted women. He enjoys his alone time as a freshman in high school... that is until signs for prom start showing up. With both his sisters going, he begins to wonder if maybe his time alone is a little lonely. [it is fluffy and funny and fantastical and a pretty decent one.] 11. When You Find Me [You'll Search No More] When Jared unexpectedly finds himself in possession of a stolen jewel that belongs to the mysterious and powerful sorceress who lives in the woods behind his castle, he feels compelled to return the stone right away. The witch surprises him by offering to grant him one wish, and the last thing he expects is to fall in love.  [i probably read an extra zero when I first read the word count so I was so surprised when it was coming to end :P But it is good, very cute :] ] 12. reinventing love 'verse   Coming out to your best friend isn’t easy. But then again, neither is falling in love with him. [okay. This is AMAZING and CUTE and I am a pile of mush which doesn't know what to do with her life anymore. *whispers very, very slowly* I want a love like that... ] 13. Bring Me to Life   Jared’s a shy young man, whose life has never been easy. His father hates him, his mother drinks her sorrows away and his husband Paul treats him like he is nothing more than a beautiful toy. When his husband has to go away on a business trip to Europe for two months, he sends Jared away to a ranch in the middle of nowhere to keep him under control. There, Jared meets people who show him what love, friendship and loyalty mean for the first time in his life. Can he escape his life and finally find some love and happiness for himself? [Oh, Jared! Come, babe. Let me wrap you up in blanket burrito.] 14. Refracted 1. To deflect (light, for example) from a straight path by refraction. 2. To alter by viewing through a medium. 3. BentJared knows exactly what he needs to do: earn a 4.0 grade point average, lead the basketball team to the state championship, nab a spot on the Homecoming Court, and be the best son two Catholic parents could ask for. He should know, this sort of stuff has been his life for the last 17 years, but this is when everything changes.Befriending Jensen Ackles, who everyone knows of but doesn’t really know, opens Jared’s eyes to an array of possibilities he’d never considered. With Jensen in his life, Jared finds the courage to to be his own person, recognize his real feelings, and make his own decisions when it comes to school, friends, and love. [this was nice. Sweet and simple. I liked it.] 15. There's a Hole in Me, Just About the Size of You  [I have already read and listed it, but seriously, it is just so angsty and inevitable and mushy - it is worth reading again] 16.The Doors of Time  About love and Fate and destiny. And Jensen being weird. And piano music. And finding the one person that's made for you in a world that isn't. Something like that. [AMAZING - seriously. There is no other word for this. Just, WOW!] 17. For All Your Days and Nights (I'm Gonna Be There)  Jared returns from a days-long hunting trip to learn that the chieftain of their tribe has passed away and Jensen, his best friend, is to succeed his father. As their new leader, he faces many challenges, including having to find a spouse. But before he settles down, Jensen asks for one night with Jared first. It turns into much more. [OMG this is super sweet! Loved it.] 18. Brand New Start  Jared Padalecki is one messed up kid, after his parent die he his tossed from Foster home to Foster home slowly losing everyone he loves. He's given one last chance with the Ackles. Can he come to peace with his past? Will he admit that he's attracted to Jensen? AU story of a hurt boy who's trying to find some peace and maybe, if he's lucky, love. [A little heartbreaking, a little painful but worth a read.] 19. [Won't Someone Come] Rescue Me   Big things are coming soon to The Wayward Heart Band; then lead singer and guitarist Jensen discovers a box of abandoned kittens, and his personal future starts to look just as bright as his professional one. [aw, so cute 😆] 20. You Came Smiling Softly, Shyly Moving, Into My World   Jensen wants more — wants to know what Jared tastes like in the morning, and after he's had his first cup of coffee of the day, and between takes, sheltered away in their trailers. He wants to explore Jared's body with his hands and mouth, get him to make every sweet noise there is; he wants to be inside him and all around him, until he's everywhere. [I ABSOLUTELY loved it. The author is probably my fav one.]  

#j2 #fic #j2-fics #fics

[geeeooorrrge]

And Everything In Between - a Paulo Dybala/Alvaro Morata fanfic

Hey guys, I don’t think I have mentioned this here before but I will be posting an Isco/Franco spinoff based on their characters in this fic (not sure if I will post it on tumblr yet but I will provide the AO3 link). I've already started to write it and the title will be Come A Little Closer. I’ll start posting it together with the epilogue of this fic (there are two more chapters before the epilogue).

You can also check out the Spotify playlist if you haven’t :) I am also coming up with a list of little trivia about the characters (the four mains) along with some little messages which I may either have meant to embed in them or that they've accidentally taught me along the way. I'll also post it with the epilogue. I've grown so attached to this fic it's difficult to imagine what will happen when it ends, but ah, we'll see then. 

But anyways, my askbox is always open for comments and opinions! Thank you and enjoy!

Title is from Hello by Adele.

Chapter list and summary | Read on AO3

CHAPTER 43 – IT’S NO SECRET THAT THE BOTH OF US ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME

Their schedules meant that Paulo and Alvaro only had a little more than a week together before Paulo’s training started again, and three weeks before Alvaro officially had to return to Madrid.

It felt strangely similar to the situation in 2009, when they’d met during the training camp. Three weeks, four weeks – and then nothing.

Paulo and Alvaro flew back to Turin, where Alvaro packed up everything he had left in his Juve locker and left. There was no time for goodbyes. Practically no one was in Vinovo. Everyone was either on vacation or still playing in France. Alvaro couldn’t have said goodbye to anybody even if he’d wanted to.

He appeared rather upset about it when they were in the car on the way back home to pack more of Alvaro’s things. He was quiet all the way and kept fiddling with his phone, unlocking it only to lock it again a second later.

“What is it, Alvi?” Paulo asked as he navigated the roads.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to anyone.”

“You can send a text to the group,” Paulo suggested. “But maybe when everyone’s back so they aren’t too busy to read it.”

“It’s different,” Alvaro said. “I really like these guys. I wanted to say goodbye in person. And I wanted to tell them how important it is to me that they take care of you.”

Paulo smiled. “I don’t need them to take care of me, Alvaro.”

“When you feel lonely, or,” Alvaro shrugged. He turned his head down to his lap. “You know, yeah.”

“It’s okay. I have Paul. Simo, Maxi, both Marios, everybody. I’ll be okay.”

A long pause from Alvaro. “You don’t know if Paul’s leaving.”

“I’ll still have the others.”

“And Simo keeps talking about getting loaned away.”

“And the others.”

“Maxi’s going away, too.”

“I’ll have Gonzalo if he comes,” Paulo said. He had no idea why Alvaro was so convinced that Paulo was going to be lonely. And so determined to make Paulo feel the same by pointing out how everyone was leaving. Paulo didn’t like to think about how everybody close to him was leaving. But he knew that Alvaro was only doing this because he cared. Because he didn’t want Paulo to have no one to go to when he had another of those pre-season breakdowns. “You know, if everything is true. Pipa’s great.”

A long, long pause from Alvaro.

“You and Pipa,” Alvaro started slowly. He knew Gonzalo from Real Madrid. “You’re close?”

Paulo burst into laughter. “What, Alvi, are you jealous?”

“I’m not,” Alvaro pouted.

“You are! You so are!”

“I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“I won’t be lonely, Alvi,” Paulo said. “I’ll call you if I am. Okay?”

Alvaro nodded, and he was smiling and Paulo was once again struck by how easy it was to make Alvaro happy. “Paulo, can I say something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Is it bad that I’m happy to go back to Madrid? You know, besides…besides the fact that we have to be apart. Everything else, the football, everything. I’m happy about that.”

Paulo felt this strange mixture of feelings, like. Like pride and jealousy and nostalgia all mushed up together. Sure, he was proud that Alvaro was going to play for Real Madrid again. But there was definitely a part of him that wished Alvaro didn’t have to go. A very big part of him.

“Why would it be bad?” Paulo asked. “You grew up there. It’s a huge club. There’s nothing to feel bad about for being excited to play there.”

Alvaro smiled again. “I’m happy that they still want me because of my football. That…that being with you, it didn’t change their mind.”

“Hey, d’you think you could tell them to insert a clause saying that I have to come with you?”

Alvaro turned and. And just stared at Paulo. He looked like his eyeballs were going to pop out. “You want to come to Real Madrid?” Alvaro asked slowly.

Paulo burst into more laughter. Alvaro was so fucking adorable. “I’m kidding, baby.”

“No, do you?”

“No. I’m happy here. At Juve.”

“Okay,” Alvaro said quietly. “Football first, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m still really happy that they still want me. That I’m not like, blacklisted just ‘cause I’m gay.”

“That’s a really good thing, yeah,” Paulo smiled. Things were going pretty good in terms of football, despite their personal circumstances.

Then it was silent all the way home, but when Alvaro got out of the car he ran right over to Paulo’s side and enveloped him in a gigantic hug that knocked all the air out of Paulo’s lungs.

“I’m so happy I have you,” he kissed the top of Paulo’s head.

“Yeah?” Paulo giggled. “Me, too. Jealous freak.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“You totally are,” Paulo said. “Alvi. You don’t have to be jealous of anyone. Okay? No one comes close to you. No one at all in this entire universe will come as close as who you are to me.”

“Yeah?” Alvaro grinned. “Yeah. No one will ever come close to who you are to me, either.”

“Not even Isco? Hey, I’m the one who’s supposed to be jealous,” Paulo pointed out. “You were the one making out with Isco that time.”

“Fuck, that was like a million years ago!” Alvaro exclaimed. Actually, it was three years. “And I didn’t make out with him!”

“You so did! Is he a good kisser?”

“Fuck you, Pau,” Alvaro shoved Paulo aside. “I almost pushed him off the balcony, okay, I felt so guilty about the kiss.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I was only ever meant to kiss you.”

Paulo smiled shyly. He said nothing, just watched the frustrated lines on Alvaro’s forehead iron themselves out. And then turn into happy lines as Alvaro smacked him on the shoulder.

“Damn it, Paulo, why do you always make me say mushy things?”

Paulo flashed him a grin. “You wouldn’t say them if you hadn’t been thinking of them, so it’s all you, baby.”

Alvaro let go of him and reached into the backseat to retrieve his box of things before storming into the building. Paulo followed, laughing his head off. He loved teasing Alvaro. It was no secret that Alvaro loved teasing him, too. It was why they had so much fun.

He helped Alvaro pack all his stuff into boxes, some of which were going to be put in Paulo’s apartment and the rest, mostly clothes, sent back to Madrid.

Alvaro had really little things, so they were done in a few hours. The house looked pretty bare, even with all the furniture intact.

“You’re gonna stop renting this?” Paulo asked as they stood in the middle of the living room. There was dust on the TV console shaped like the bottoms of photo frames. And the bottom of Paulo’s Lego sculpture that Alvaro had never shut up about.

“I guess, yeah,” Alvaro said softly. “No point.”

“And you’ll buy one in Madrid?”

“Maybe,” Alvaro said. “Will you help me pick one out? I’ll send you photos.”

“Yeah,” Paulo smiled. He ignored the small pain in his chest that appeared when he realised he couldn’t be there to choose it with Alvaro. “Of course.”

They stuffed everything in the car and drove it like, fifty meters down the street to Paulo’s house, where they unloaded everything again. It was an extremely mundane task, but Paulo enjoyed doing it with Alvaro. It was just. It was so domestic. If only it hadn’t meant Alvaro was leaving.

Alvaro already had some clothes at Paulo’s place, though it was only just two or three t-shirts. They had this habit where they’d just alternate between both their apartments when they ran out of clothes and had to do the laundry. But Paulo had cleared a space in the dresser and the wardrobe for Alvaro, whichever he preferred, in case he had clothes he wanted to leave in Turin.

Alvaro was so fucking elated when he was told. He immediately grabbed his duffel bag and unloaded the three other t-shirts he had in it – man, Paulo really needed to get more t-shirts for him that weren’t black or grey or white – and placed them in the empty space in the dresser. He sat on the bed facing it and started smiling to himself even though the dresser was closed.

“You going crazy?” Paulo asked, sitting next to him.

“No,” Alvaro said gleefully.

Paulo leaned his head on Alvaro’s shoulder, not exactly sure what Alvaro was staring at that was making him so happy. But he loved that Alvaro was happy, so.

“Hey,” Alvaro suddenly said, nudging Paulo’s head off his shoulder. “I wanna show you something.”

“Yeah?” Paulo asked.

Alvaro reached into his duffel bag again and pulled out – and pulled out Paulo’s Instituto jersey. The one from seven years ago. The oversized one Paulo wore as a fifteen-year-old. Paulo wondered if it was still oversized on him.

“It has never left my side since you gave it to me,” Alvaro whispered.

“You brought it here?” Paulo asked. “To Turin?”

“Of course,” Alvaro smiled. “It’s good luck.”

Paulo got up and went to the dresser, opening the drawer that was half Alvaro’s and digging in it until he found what he was looking for – Alvaro’s Spain jersey from 2009.

“I’ve got yours, too,” he said, brandishing it as he turned back around.

“Yeah?” Alvaro grinned. “You brought it to Turin, too?”

“Like you said. Good luck.”

“I have these too,” Alvaro said, digging in his bag again and pulling out Paulo’s pink Palermo jersey and Paulo’s Juventus jersey from when they played their first game together.

Paulo beamed at him before turning back to the dresser and pulling out the two shirts from the same occasions – two of Alvaro’s Juventus shirts.

“Come here,” Alvaro said, opening his arms wide and then pulling Paulo to sit in his lap once Paulo took a step towards him. He planted a few soft kisses all over Paulo’s face, and then his lips. “When I play my first match for Real Madrid,” he said in between all the pecks. “You get my jersey.”

“Yeah?” Paulo smiled. “You’ll get mine, too. We’ll swap.”

“And look,” Alvaro unfolded Paulo’s Instituto jersey and wrung it out until something fell out of it. The porn magazine from Valencia. “I still have this.”

“Fuck,” Paulo burst into laughter. He picked the magazine up and flipped through it. “These girls are probably like, fifty years old now.”

“You’re so bad at math. They can’t be fifty. They’d have to be forty in those pics.”

“Whatever, you get what I’m saying,” Paulo said. It was a slip of the tongue. Paulo felt like he had known Alvaro for twenty years.

“Maybe they’re thirty.”

“Yeah, you know girls so well.”

Alvaro gave him a gentle shove but then grabbed him and hugged him again. “Love you,” he cooed.

“Love you, too,” Paulo smiled.

They sat there in their pile of jerseys and talked and talked and talked the night away, and it made them feel like they were sixteen again.

------

Paulo and Alvaro had their first summer vacation together in Ibiza.

Where else could it be, really? Alvaro loved going to Ibiza, for some reason. And it was in Spain, so they didn’t have to deal with jet lag or exhaustion from flying. They had a week there, so they spent the first few days exploring the non-beachy attractions on the island. It was more of Paulo’s idea, really, because all Alvaro wanted to do was laze around on the beach all day and do nothing at all.

But it was Paulo’s first time there and he had to do everything. He got himself a tiny little handbook and made it a point to cross out every place they went to and he brought it everywhere and he got this really childish delighted look on his face whenever they managed to cross one out and. And Alvaro was so fucking fond and he had no idea how he’d managed to deal with Paulo all these years. But he made it a point to ask for a kiss from Paulo every time they crossed one out, as a reward for Alvaro sitting through all of it. And then they’d go to the beach to watch the sunset and Paulo never stopped smiling.

Their legs were about to fall off after like, three days of walking everywhere, so Alvaro finally managed to convince Paulo to spend an entire day on the beach.

Paulo spent his time alternating between lying down trying to get a tan, pestering Alvaro to slap on more sunblock for him, and watching the waves hit the shore.

Alvaro spent all his time watching Paulo.

He loved that, for the past few days at least, they were able to forget everything. They were able to forget that time was ticking like a bomb about to go off, that their time together was running out. That this week in Ibiza was practically the very last time in a long time that they would get to spend together, side by side, falling asleep to each other’s face and waking up to the same.

If a doctor told Alvaro right then that he only had one week to live, he would spend it just like this, with Paulo, in Ibiza, exploring every single place Paulo wanted to just so Alvaro could see him smile.

The next day, they levelled up their vacation and got a private yacht.

Paulo sat on the front deck of the yacht and stared ahead at the horizon, where the bright blue sea blended perfectly with the azure sky. Paulo’s back muscles shimmered with a mixture of sunblock and sea mist under the sunlight. His hair was blown back on his head, a few stray strands bouncing along with the wind.

Alvaro stood at the cabin door just. Just staring at Paulo’s back. Paulo looked so small. Alvaro wanted to cuddle him all day. Or pack him up in a tiny box and carry him everywhere. And despite a violent urge pulling him towards Paulo, Alvaro just stood there. He had to get used to this. He had to get used to watching Paulo from a distance.

But Paulo eventually turned around and, upon seeing Alvaro creeping on him, gave a vibrant, knowing smile. He waved at Alvaro to go over and join him.

Alvaro went and sat behind Paulo so that Paulo was between his legs. He wrapped his arms around Paulo’s waist and pressed his cheek into the middle of Paulo’s warm back. Paulo wrapped his little fingers around Alvaro’s hands and squeezed them.

“This is really nice,” he said.

Alvaro moved to rest his head on Paulo’s shoulder. The movement of the sea was mesmerising. It felt like they were in some kind of blue heaven. “Yeah,” he whispered against the back of Paulo’s ear.

“Alvaro,” Paulo said softly, his voice almost lost with the wind.

“Yeah?”

“Is this the end?”

Alvaro didn’t have an answer for him. He knew that he didn’t want this to be the end. But he didn’t know about Paulo. Paulo was still chasing his dream. His dad’s dream. Alvaro didn’t want to be the one to hold him back. Alvaro didn’t want to be his biggest distraction. Football always came first for Paulo, and Alvaro got that.

“Do you want it to be?” Alvaro asked.

Paulo went quiet for a short while, then, “Do you?”

Alvaro knew they could never go back to being just friends. Never. Not after they had shared something so magical, so strong and fierce and passionate. Not after the last seven years. They couldn’t go back to being friends. It was either this or it was nothing.

“Paulo, I will always love you.”

“Me, too,” Paulo smiled and Alvaro felt it against his cheek. “I will always love you too, Alvaro. Always.”

Alvaro knew what Paulo was asking. He was asking if the fact that they loved each other was strong enough to overcome the strain the distance would put on their relationship. Because after all, after everything, all that they had ever talked about was how the distance would never make them stop loving each other.

They hadn’t talked about how the distance would make a relationship impossible despite the fact that they still loved each other.

It was a million times more painful. Knowing what it could have been, but what it would possibly never be, and having both be the exact same thing.

Alvaro didn’t have an answer for Paulo. He didn’t know if the pressure they were definitely going to receive from the public, overanalysing every single aspect of their relationship – he wasn’t sure if they could handle it. He didn’t know what the Real Madrid board, what his coach, what his Real Madrid teammates thought about it. He didn’t know if he was just going to be a burden to Paulo, if after everything, Paulo would be better off without Alvaro as a heavy stone holding back his football career. What if Paulo wanted to play for Barcelona? They couldn’t play for rival teams or the media would literally explode. What if Real Madrid faced Juventus in the Champions League? What was Alvaro going to do? The conflict of interest was so much larger than he had expected.

Alvaro remembered that discussion he’d had with Isco about whether it was easier to be in a relationship with a teammate or someone on another team.

He had the answer now. Alvaro had the answer – it was easier to be in a relationship with a teammate. It eliminated all the pesky variables.

But this answer was useless. It gave him no clue to what the bigger answer was supposed to be.

So Alvaro just wrapped his arms more tightly around Paulo in a big hug he never wanted to let go of, and he hoped with all his heart that Paulo understood this just like how he’d understood every other thing that had ever crossed Alvaro’s mind.

------

On their last night in Ibiza, when they were both nice and chill in bed, Alvaro turned to Paulo and asked, “Remember what we did on Valentines’ Day?”

Of course Paulo remembered. He didn’t think he would ever forget. “Yeah.”

“Do you…wanna do it?” Alvaro asked timidly. “Like…for real?”

“Like…” Paulo gestured at the air in front of him. “With my dick?”

“Yeah.”

“Right now? Right here?”

“I mean…” Alvaro said. “Better now, when we still have the chance, yeah? And as, like. A parting gift. And…you know. For memories’ sake.”

Like breakup sex, was the first thought that crossed Paulo’s mind. He tried desperately to shake it off but he failed.

“Yeah,” he said, despite his racing heart. “Let’s make a fuckton of good memories.”

Alvaro beamed at the suggestion. He got up and went over to his suitcase, returning with two tubes of lube and a box of condoms.

“I didn’t know if one was enough,” he explained.

“You were planning this all along?” Paulo asked. “You minx.”

Alvaro giggled as Paulo grabbed everything from him and dumped it on the bed before pushing Alvaro down on his back and climbing to sit on him, legs straddling Alvaro’s waist. Paulo held Alvaro’s face gently in both his hands, his eyes travelling over every inch of Alvaro’s face. He loved this image. He loved Alvaro happy, smiling, blissful – everything good. He wanted to capture this image in his mind forever.

Alvaro was still smiling when Paulo lowered himself to kiss him. He received Paulo’s lips eagerly, surrounding Paulo’s bottom lip first with his lips and then his teeth. His hands moved from Paulo’s shoulders down his arms and then onto his waist as Paulo began to rub against him, his crotch grinding against Alvaro’s. He felt his own arousal start to pool, almost painfully slowly, as Alvaro worked the inside of his mouth with his tongue before tracing his lips down the corner of Paulo’s lips and down his jaw.

Paulo slid his hands under Alvaro’s shirt, feeling Alvaro give a soft whimper against his neck as he did so. He ran his thumbs over Alvaro’s nipples and Alvaro keened upwards, another little sound escaping his lips. It only became louder when Paulo escaped his lips and moved down to run his tongue over Alvaro’s nipples, and Alvaro was practically writhing under Paulo and his hands had slid under Paulo’s pants and grabbed a hold of Paulo’s butt, roughly guiding Paulo as he continued rocking against Alvaro.

Amidst all the chaos Paulo managed to pull Alvaro’s shirt off above his head, his hands returning immediately to rest on Alvaro’s chest, the tips of his pointer fingers pressing lightly on Alvaro’s nipples because that seemed to be what made Alvaro produce the best noises. Alvaro slid – or violently pulled – Paulo’s pants off his hips, hissing straight into Paulo’s mouth when he felt Paulo’s bulge against his own and. And oh, God, Paulo realised Alvaro was rock hard and Paulo fucking wanted it in his mouth.

He gave his hips one last thrust against Alvaro’s, the resulting moan from Alvaro combining flawlessly with the one that escaped from Paulo’s own lips. Paulo crawled his way backwards down Alvaro’s body, pressing his lips on Alvaro’s slightly sweaty skin in a breathless path down his abdomen and to the waistband of his pants. He tugged it down over Alvaro’s erection and had Alvaro’s dick spring up and almost smack him in the fucking face, and fuck, Alvaro was so hard and Paulo could see the fucking throbbing vein running down his length and Paulo was so weak.

“Shit, Alvi,” he breathed, more as a remark than for Alvaro to hear. He quickly dumped Alvaro’s pants aside, vaguely aware that Alvaro had propped himself up on his elbows and was currently feverishly watching Paulo. Paulo cupped Alvaro’s dick in his hand and Alvaro gasped loudly, lifting his hips off the bed and nudging Paulo’s cheek with his dick. “Fuck.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Alvaro whispered. He lay back down and threw his head back on the pillow. “Fuck. Shit. Paulo.”

And that sound, that cry of Paulo’s name, so raw and eager and desperate, triggered Paulo into action. He lowered his lips over Alvaro’s length, holding Alvaro down by the waist when Alvaro keened upwards again eagerly. He bobbed his head up and down a few times, moistening Alvaro’s dick, taking him all the way in until he felt Alvaro hit the back of his throat.

And Paulo. Paulo didn’t want this to end. He didn’t want this, if it was going to be the last time, to end. Maybe this truly was the finish line. Maybe after this, Paulo and Alvaro would be no more. And Paulo didn’t want that to come.

He stopped, his fingers curled around the base of Alvaro’s dick. He sat back on his heels and tried to catch his breath as he watched Alvaro sigh and fidget, waiting for Paulo to continue.

When Paulo didn’t, Alvaro opened his eyes and urged, “Pau.”

“Slowly,” Paulo whispered. “Okay?”

Alvaro seemed to get it instantaneously. His gaze dampened slightly but understandingly and determinedly. He reached up towards Paulo and when Paulo leaned into his grasp, grabbed the back of Paulo’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

“I’m going to remember every moment of this,” he murmured against Paulo’s lips.

Paulo smiled and felt a wave a relief when Alvaro smiled back. Alvaro reached for Paulo’s underwear with eager hands and tugged it off, appearing surprised at how hard Paulo was. He gave Paulo a few hard strokes before laying his palm flat, trapping Paulo’s dick between it and his own chest, allowing Paulo to thrust. And the new, welcome friction sent Paulo into a brief ecstasy, desperately gripping two handfuls of the pillow underneath Alvaro’s head in a bid not to completely lose his shit.

Alvaro grabbed Paulo’s hips again and gently pushed him up Alvaro’s chest until the tip of his dick reached Alvaro’s lips. Alvaro ran his tongue over Paulo’s slit, once and twice and on the third time Paulo saw stars again. But Alvaro only continued, taking only the tip of Paulo’s dick into his mouth and sucking on it gently, and shit, Paulo was just. Just suddenly overcome with this wave of fondness, and he knew it was a weird fucking time to feel fond but he did because he suddenly realised how far Alvaro had come – from being scared to fuck Paulo on their first time, to being unsure of the role of teeth in blowjobs on their second, to being so eager to try anal and all the little times in between when no sort of penetration was needed, and. And Alvaro had changed so much, he had changed and grown and he could give a proper blowjob now, and Paulo just. Paulo loved him so much he felt like he could explode.

“Hey,” Alvaro whispered, taking Paulo out of his mouth and moving to curl his fingers around Paulo’s thighs. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Paulo said, hurriedly blinking the slight wetness in his eyes away. “Yeah.”

Alvaro adjusted Paulo’s position until he could pull Paulo down to kiss him again. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Paulo whispered back. He quickly buried his face in the crook of Alvaro’s neck as tears pricked the back of his eyes again. Paulo never wanted to let go. He never wanted to let go.

Paulo took one of the extra pillows and placed it under Alvaro’s back, distracting himself by crouching down again, one of his hands cupping Alvaro’s dick and the other running a finger over Alvaro’s hole. Alvaro gave a nod when Paulo turned to him for the signal, so Paulo lowered his head between Alvaro’s legs and ran his tongue over Alvaro’s entrance, using his spit to moisten it. Alvaro gave a little gasp and a jerk of the hips, but pushed Paulo’s head down to urge him to continue, so Paulo didn’t stop.

He continued teasing Alvaro’s hole, both with his tongue and his fingers, until Alvaro was stretched enough to take Paulo’s finger. And then two. Paulo swirled his spit around Alvaro’s entrance again, only stopping to lick the precome off Alvaro’s dick. If this was the last time he was going to taste Alvaro – if this was the last time, Paulo wanted to taste everything.

“You think you’re good now?” he asked softly, sliding two of his fingers back into Alvaro’s hole, just for effect.

“I think, yeah,” Alvaro breathed hard, like he was timing his breaths to the rhythm Paulo was moving his fingers to. “Yeah.”

Paulo reached for the box of condoms and opened a packet, stopping Alvaro from helping him put it on simply because Alvaro’s hands were shaking so fucking violently. Paulo rolled it on himself before reaching for Alvaro’s hands and squeezing them tightly.

“If it hurts,” he whispered. “If it hurts, let me know, and I’ll stop. Okay?”

Alvaro nodded, his eyes dark and eager. He lay there with his legs wide open and watched as Paulo opened one of the lube bottles and squeezed some on his palm, spreading a quarter of the blob on the condom over his dick and the rest on Alvaro’s hole. Alvaro squirmed as the lube slid inside him, giving a soft giggle.

Paulo wiped his hands on one of the t-shirts lying on the bed and climbed over Alvaro, hovering over him, the tip of his cock gently pressing on the entrance of Alvaro’s hole so Alvaro would get an idea of how it would feel like.

“You ready, baby?” Paulo asked.

“Yeah,” Alvaro mumbled. He pulled Paulo down for a lingering kiss. “I’ll be okay, I’ll always be okay because you’ll always make sure I am.”

Paulo smiled. He didn’t think he would ever stop. He didn’t know how to stop.

He slowly tipped his body forward, the lube greatly aiding him in sliding into Alvaro. Alvaro froze completely for a long, long three seconds, just getting used to the feeling of Paulo filling him up – before he released it all in a deafening moan, one which Paulo wasn’t sure was because it hurt or because it felt good.

It quickly subsided into a whimper and Paulo only dared to edge forward a tiny bit more before he had to ask, “Alvi, baby, you okay?”

And Alvaro. Alvaro’s face was all scrunched up in a grimace, his eyebrows meeting in the middle where the deepest furrow sat, his adorable nose screwed into a ball, and his teeth frantically chomping down on his bottom lip as he desperately tried to keep all the painful sounds to himself.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he managed to whisper. “Yeah. Paulo. Just. Just don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

So Paulo edged all the way into Alvaro and kissed the resulting gasp out of Alvaro. He pushed Alvaro’s thighs further apart before moving his hands to cup Alvaro’s cheeks, gently stroking them, hoping it would take away some of the pain.

After a few slides Alvaro seemed to calm down considerably. Paulo continued moving, though, knowing how important the rhythm was. Alvaro reached out blindly and grabbed one of his hands, clutching it tightly against his chest. Paulo smiled. He loved that he managed to make Alvaro feel safe. Because Alvaro made him feel the same.

“This okay?” Paulo asked softly.

Alvaro opened his eyes and gazed around hazily until he locked eyes with Paulo. He took Paulo’s hand again and led it to his dick, making Paulo jerk him off. “Yeah,” he said. “Paulo. This is. Paulo, it’s so good.”

“Yeah?” Paulo smiled again. It warmed his heart that Alvaro didn’t try too hard, he didn’t try too hard to like something he didn’t just because he wanted to please Paulo. He could just be himself and Paulo would still love him all the same, and Alvaro knew that and it was the reason why he had thrown all his insecurities to the wind once this relationship had started.

“Mmhmm,” Alvaro murmured.

Paulo jerked Alvaro off to the rhythm with which he thrust himself into Alvaro, spurred on by Alvaro’s occasional soft cries of “Paulo, baby, please don’t stop.” He slid the fingers of his other hand into Alvaro’s and held on tight, letting Alvaro squeeze all the blood supply out of his hand. He slowed the rhythm, both his hand and his hips, so Alvaro wouldn’t come, so Paulo himself wouldn’t come, so this wouldn’t end so quickly. He leaned over Alvaro and, as his thumb ran over Alvaro’s slit repeatedly, kissed all the soft sobs from Alvaro’s lips, gobbling them up with pure hunger, with pure desire for all of Alvaro.

When Alvaro settled down again Paulo sat back up, prying his hand out of Alvaro’s and removing the other from Alvaro’s now extremely moist, precome-covered dick. He grabbed Alvaro’s thighs and hoisted them over his shoulders, pushing on Alvaro so he curled up slightly off the bed. He leaned over, pushing Alvaro into a fetal position, until he could kiss Alvaro on the lips again.

“Alvi,” he whispered. “Can I go harder?”

After a short hesitation, Alvaro said, “Yeah. But just. Just slowly. Not too fast. Yeah?”

“Okay,” Paulo mouthed as he pressed his lips on Alvaro again. He thrust his hips slowly but firmly against Alvaro’s, and.

And Alvaro’s eyes popped open so immediately and widely and violently that Paulo legitimately thought they were going to dislocate from their sockets and start rolling down the bed. Those brown specks darted around anxiously for a few seconds, and then Alvaro asked, “Paulo. Shit, Paulo. Is this. Is this it? Pau.”

“Yeah,” Paulo laughed softly, knowing that he’d nailed Alvaro’s prostate. Honestly, he was pretty proud of himself. He gave his hips another thrust and listened as Alvaro gave a surprised ‘oh.’ “You like it?”

“Fucking hell,” Alvaro muttered. “Fuck. Shit. Paulo.”

Paulo didn’t know if that was a yes or a no but he didn’t care because Alvaro didn’t seem to. He only pushed his hips towards Paulo, seemingly eager to get it going again, now that he’d found his sweet spot.

“Yeah?” Paulo said again. “Am I hurting you?”

“I – fuck. It feels. It feels so fucking good.”

Paulo smiled. He felt good, too; Alvaro felt so good being filled by him and Paulo was. Paulo was in heaven. He felt this strange mixture of urges, like he wanted to fuck the hell out of Alvaro and hear him scream but he also wanted to take care of Alvaro and make sure Alvaro was okay and good and safe. It was ferocity and it was tenderness. It was war and it was peace. And Paulo didn’t understand it but he would cherish it, nonetheless, just like he’d always cherished every emotion Alvaro managed to spark in him, even in the deepest, darkest part of his heart; every emotion that he never even knew he was capable of feeling.

Paulo strained to kiss Alvaro on the lips, his tongue wandering, matching the speed at which Paulo thrusted his hips. He moved one of his hands to Alvaro’s dick again, the other pinning Alvaro’s hand to the bed next to his head, fingers blindly sliding in between each other. In his entire life, and in all his encounters with Alvaro – Paulo had never felt so close to him. Paulo had never felt as close to Alvaro as he did in that very moment, and ironically, it was one of the last moments before they were going to be apart.

Paulo began to move faster, his hand and hips and tongue moving in tandem, hoping to provide Alvaro with the ultimate pleasure. He thrust so hard that Alvaro started to jerk every time Paulo’s hips hit his, his feet hanging over Paulo’s back and kicking it softly, and fuck, this was so fucking acrobatic and Paulo silently applauded Alvaro for being such a good sport about it all.

Alvaro started to squeeze his hand more tightly, his hips meeting Paulo’s more incoherently and his breaths starting to stutter, and Paulo knew. Paulo knew he was getting close. He thrust his dick all the way into Alvaro, as deep as he could get, knowing that it was nudging Alvaro’s prostate when Alvaro gave a harsh exhale. Staying in that position, he began to jerk Alvaro off; hard, quick strokes just like Alvaro liked, slowly moving his hips in a small circle to massage Alvaro’s prostate as he did so.

And Alvaro. Alvaro literally fucking exploded all over Paulo’s hand, his hips straining upwards, his back curling off the bed and his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Paulo started to thrust his hips again, feeling that familiar warm pool of desire in his pelvic area as he watched Alvaro spill over himself. He thrusted and nailed Alvaro’s prostate each time, causing Alvaro to yell ‘fuck’ over and over and over again, and shit, Paulo was so fucking close so he pulled out of Alvaro and practically ripped the condom off himself before starting to jerk himself off to the same rhythm at which he was still jerking Alvaro. He was so close, the very first stroke he gave himself sent a shiver down his back and him buckling over Alvaro with a soft moan.

“Shit, shit, come over here,” Alvaro wheezed, hands making greedy grabbing motions towards Paulo. Even in the midst of his orgasm, Alvaro still so unselfishly thought of Paulo’s pleasure.

Paulo let go of Alvaro’s legs, letting them thump back down on the bed, and crawled up to straddle Alvaro’s waist as Alvaro grabbed and aligned both their dicks, hips thrusting weakly to coax the rest of his orgasm out of himself. Paulo helped him by moving his own hips, rubbing his length all along Alvaro’s, spreading the come – fuck, the come that didn’t stop fucking oozing from Alvaro’s cock – all over them both, all over Alvaro’s hand.

“Fuck,” Paulo muttered as he felt it building up, as he felt his orgasm start to rumble through his entire body. He collapsed over Alvaro, body convulsing, lips blindly and sloppily finding Alvaro’s. He temporarily lost every single sensation in his body except that in his dick for a few seconds as he came all over Alvaro’s hand, the white liquid joining Alvaro’s contribution already sitting on his abdomen. He opened his eyes but couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything except for Alvaro’s embrace, one arm around him and the other hand still firmly stroking both their dicks together, the friction forcing the last drops of come out of both Paulo and himself. He couldn’t hear anything except for Alvaro gasping into his ear, short gasps of breath alternating between long gasps of words Paulo couldn’t make out.

When Paulo regained consciousness of his surroundings again he found his face buried in the crook of Alvaro’s neck, his lips wet with a combination of sweat and spit and Alvaro’s precome which he could still taste. Along with something that sort of tasted like blood.

He tilted his head to take a look at Alvaro and found him just. Just lying there, staring up at the ceiling, the same silly dazed look in his eyes that he always had after he’d come. His chest heaved up and down, bringing Paulo along with it. His legs were moving lazily, the fronts of his thighs rubbing against the backs of Paulo’s. There was a tiny drop of blood on his bottom lip where he’d bitten too hard on it. His hand was lazily tracing shapes on Paulo’s bare back, first using the tip of his middle finger, then the tip of his pointer, and then both at once.

As Paulo stared at him, Alvaro moved his other hand to scoop some of the come on his abdomen. He gave a little shudder when their dicks moved against each other again. He raised his hand to the corner of Paulo’s mouth, and Paulo obliged when he nudged it open, tasting the salty liquid on his fingers.

Alvaro smiled this. This smile that was sad and happy and nostalgic and regretful all at once. He pushed Paulo’s face back into his neck and rested his chin on Paulo’s forehead, arms curling around Paulo’s body as Paulo lay on top of him, draped over him like a blanket.

Everything was so peaceful, everything silent so suddenly after all the noise between their bodies. All the music they made, in moans and grunts and cries and gasps; in the sound of skin slapping against skin; in the whisper of palms caressing muscles and bumps and stubble, hands cut on bones, fingers tangling in hair; in the rustle of sheets as they struggled for momentum, for rhythm, for the pleasure of the other. The music that Paulo and Alvaro had always made, the music that no one else understood but which didn’t bother them because it was always a joyful melody to their own ears.

Paulo shut his eyes and revelled in the peace for a while, timing his breaths to the speed at which he rose and fell with Alvaro’s chest. He lifted his hand and found Alvaro’s bottom lip with his thumb, wiping the blood off it. He gently cupped Alvaro’s cheek, Alvaro’s perfectly cut, beautifully moulded cheek, his cheekbone like a little warm rock in the middle of Paulo’s hand.

And he felt a teardrop land on his finger.

Paulo got up immediately, propping himself up using his elbows on Alvaro’s shoulders. He gently stroked Alvaro’s cheeks and whispered. “Hey. Hey, did I hurt you?”

“No, just,” Alvaro breathed. “Just hold me. Please. Paulo, I need you to hold me.”

“Okay,” Paulo murmured, pressing his lips to Alvaro’s before draping himself over him again, momentarily forgetting how to breathe as Alvaro’s arms snaked tightly around him. “Okay. Hey. I didn’t hurt you, yeah? Really? You’re not hurt?”

“No,” Alvaro said again. “No. You didn’t hurt me. You could never.”

“Why are you crying?”

Alvaro went silent save for his quiet crying into Paulo’s neck, his stuttering sobs causing Paulo to vibrate. He pressed his lips on Paulo’s temple. “I love you.”

“Me, too,” Paulo whispered.

“Say it,” Alvaro sobbed. “Say the words.”

“I love you, Alvaro.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Don’t stop,” Alvaro begged. “Please don’t stop.”

So Paulo said it again, and again and again and again, I love you, I love you, I love you, until he, too, found himself in a pool of tears, a strange tugging in his chest like someone had tied a rope to his heart and was trying to take it away. He mouthed it into the crook of Alvaro’s neck, against his cheek, in between his lips, everywhere he hoped Alvaro would save it, where he hoped Alvaro would carry it like a lucky charm, like a warm, welcoming whisper when the wind got too strong.

“I don’t want to go,” Alvaro finally whispered, after Paulo had stopped reciting the three words.

I don’t want you to leave, Paulo wanted to say. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop Alvaro without there being months and months’ worth of legal repercussions and Alvaro’s football career halting immediately. Just like how Alvaro had tried so hard to protect Paulo, Paulo now had to do the same.

“You are going to be so great,” Paulo said. “So great, Alvaro. And I am going to be so proud. Just like I always have been. You are going to do big, big things and be the most amazing footballer in the world.”

Alvaro held Paulo’s head and rested it on his own, their noses touching briefly before Alvaro leaned up for a kiss. “You are the most amazing footballer in the world,” he said.

Paulo shook his head and smiled. He knew they would never agree on this. It was impossible for them to agree.

He rolled off Alvaro and on his side, the both of them still wrapped up in a tight, sticky hug. He pulled his face away from Alvaro’s and watched Alvaro; he watched Alvaro as his eyes slowly took in every inch of Paulo’s face, like he found a renewed affection every time he did so. He watched as a stray tear escaped the side of Alvaro’s eye, moving a thumb to wipe it off. He smiled and watched Alvaro return it, although the smile had made them both start crying again.

“I love you,” he whispered as he fingers danced in a line down the side of Alvaro’s face. “Always.”

“I love you, too,” Alvaro whispered back, his hand moving to rest on the side of Paulo’s neck. “Always.”

They lay there, faces inches apart, and gazed at each other, not being able to help but smile even though tears still ran down their cheeks. And Paulo couldn’t help but think about how the last time they were in this situation, the last time one of them was in Italy and the other in Spain – they were happy. They were overjoyed. They made so many plans when Paulo moved to Palermo and they were so happy.

But now, they weren’t.

Nonetheless, all those plans – they’d done them all. They’d done everything they’d ever wanted to do with each other. Alvaro had given Paulo everything Paulo had ever wanted – he had given Paulo himself. And because of that, Paulo would never, ever have a single regret.

“Paulo,” Alvaro called tenderly.

“Yeah?”

“We okay?” Alvaro said softly. He swept Paulo’s hair back off his forehead. “Yeah?”

Paulo smiled. “Always,” he said again.

“And we will be?”

“If we want us to be.”

Alvaro went quiet after that, just using his eyes to cut two garnet holes in Paulo. He fidgeted with Paulo’s hair, with Paulo’s ear. With Paulo’s nose. He took Paulo’s hand and intertwined their fingers.

“I’m never, ever going to forget this night,” he said.

“Yeah?” Paulo moved to kiss Alvaro. “You…you liked it?”

“It was fucking awesome, Paulo.”

Paulo smiled. “Then I’m never going to forget it, either.”

“You’re so fucking good,” Alvaro leaned over and planted a kiss on Paulo’s upturned lips. “You, Paulo Dybala, you’re so fucking delicious, you’re so fucking good.”

“Shut up,” Paulo giggled. “Shut up. This how you pick up girls? Or guys? This how you gonna do it in Madrid?”

“You’re hard to get. If it works on you, it’ll work on anyone else.”

“Fuck you.”

“You just did.”

And then Alvaro promptly burst into sweet, sweet laughter, and Paulo couldn’t help but join in, a bittersweet feeling right in the pit of his stomach.

“We’ll do it again sometime,” Paulo finally said, softly.

“Yeah?” Alvaro smiled.

“Yeah,” Paulo said. It was like a silent promise. A silent promise that Paulo would always want them to be them, that he would always want them to be okay, and that the next time they met, Paulo wanted to make love to him with the same intensity, the same affection, the same ferocity, the same desire and hunger, because nothing would change. Nothing. Paulo would still be as in love with Alvaro and he would still want to give Alvaro the entire world and he hoped Alvaro would still want to try and give it back.

Paulo hoped Alvaro got the message.

------

They flew directly to Madrid from Ibiza and Alvaro’s things were already there, waiting in a stack of boxes in his parents’ living room.

Paulo wanted to stay. He really, really wanted to stay, but he had to go back for training before Juventus left for their Asia Tour. He only had one day with Alvaro – half a day, to be exact, because he was flying back to Turin in the night.

The only thing Paulo enjoyed about being in Madrid right then was that he could be spotted on the streets without some bogus article being written about him joining one of the Madrid clubs. That sort of neutralised the other set of transfer rumours which in turn linked him to clubs in Spain just because everyone wanted him and Alvaro to be together.

He and Alvaro spent the day just strolling down the streets, re-visiting the places that Alvaro had brought Paulo when Paulo first came in 2009. They went to the diner, which was amazingly still in operation, and ordered the same paella they’d eaten on their very first time there together. They just walked around aimlessly, stopping for photographs and trying to ignore the inevitable disapproving glances which they were already so familiar with. Paulo was relieved, honestly, because it seemed like the people of Madrid accepted who they were as much as the people in Turin had.

And then it was time for Paulo to go back.

Alvaro’s dad drove them to the airport again. The both of them sat in the back of the car, holding hands, and Paulo couldn’t take his eyes off Alvaro. He watched as the occasional streetlight swept an orange glow over Alvaro’s face. He watched as Alvaro silently counted them, like he’d always liked to do, even though he had been to the airport so many times he already knew how many streetlights there were in between.

He gave Alvaro’s hand a soft squeeze. When Alvaro turned to him, distracted from his streetlight-counting, Paulo whispered, “This is home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alvaro said.

“You like it here?”

“I love it here.”

“You’re going to do great.”

Alvaro smiled. “I want to. For you.”

“You won’t…miss me, yeah?”

“Paulo, what the fuck. Of course I’ll miss you.”

“No, I mean,” Paulo gestured vaguely with his free hand. “Too much.”

“I’ll try.”

“We’ll talk. On the phone, on Skype, on anywhere.”

“Of course, Pau. Of course.”

“I’ll see you next time with like, five medals around your neck, and I’m going to be so proud of you, Alvaro, I’m going to be so fucking proud of you.”

Alvaro smiled. He moved in to kiss Paulo, their lips moving against each other in the most familiar, most homely feeling. And Alvaro started to cry again, his tears plopping down on Paulo’s nose, and Paulo pulled away, gently pressing their foreheads together.

“Okay, okay,” he whispered. “Okay. Hey. You’re okay. We’re okay. Alvi. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Alvaro breathed. “Paulo. I’d say all these things to you, too, but I already know you’re going to do it and I’ve already told you a million times, and I’m so fucking proud of you, Paulo Dybala, for everything you’ve accomplished up until this day. And I’ll never stop being proud, I’ll never stop wanting to tell the entire world how much I love you, how much you mean to me, how much I enjoy your presence, and how proud I will always, always be of you. Even if I can’t. You know I still want to. And no matter how far you are, what you are doing, what you are feeling, I will always be right there by your side, even though I can’t physically be, even though it hurts me to think that I can’t be. I will always be right there with you. Just. Just take care of yourself when I can’t. Okay?”

Paulo nodded. This was a goodbye. This was a goodbye.

No matter how much Paulo wanted this to go on, no matter how hard he tried to cling on to the remnants, to the dying embers of this relationship, this was a goodbye.

No matter how much they loved each other, this was a goodbye.

They were silent all the way to the airport. Alvaro helped Paulo check in his luggage, and then stood aside as his dad bundled Paulo into a big hug.

“All the best,” he said softly. “We’ll always be rooting for you.”

“Thank you,” Paulo smiled.

“You have always been good for Alvaro,” he smiled proudly, giving Paulo’s hair a fond ruffle. “You’re good for each other. I can only hope you’ll continue to be.”

He stepped aside after a soft ‘bye, Paulo,’ letting Alvaro take over.

Alvaro said nothing for a few moments, just held on to both of Paulo’s hands at Paulo’s sides, sliding his fingers in the holes between Paulo’s that seemed to have been made just for him. He examined Paulo’s entire face and smiled when their eyes met.

“So this is it, huh?” he whispered.

Paulo smiled. He lowered his gaze away from Alvaro’s intense brown eyes. “I guess.”

Alvaro leaned over, his nose nuzzling Paulo’s cheek as he sought Paulo’s lips with his own. The kiss was soft, softer than the one they’d shared in the car. It was also sweeter, a little more desperate, and with a lingering sadness. This was the last time. It was the last time.

Tears began to fall from Paulo’s eyes and he hurriedly pulled away to wipe them. “Okay,” he mumbled to himself. “Yeah, okay, okay. I’m okay.”

Alvaro wrapped his arms around Paulo and pushed Paulo’s head into his chest. His hands ran warm, soothing circles over Paulo’s back. “You’ll be great and your dad will be so proud, prouder than he ever imagined he could be.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

They stood there in each other’s embrace, just. Just silently, the bustle of the airport continuing around them, distant messages over the PA system, departures board shuffling above them. Like they were in their own little bubble.

It wasn’t the first time Paulo was leaving Alvaro at an airport, but. But it felt like the first time. Every time felt like the first time.

Alvaro eventually let go of the hug when it was time for Paulo to go inside. He gave Paulo’s shoulders a tight squeeze.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” Paulo whispered back.

Alvaro was smiling as he held Paulo’s head tenderly in both his hands, like it was a large, precious jewel. He pressed his lips on Paulo’s, briefly.

“Bye, Pau,” he said.

“Bye, Alvi,” Paulo smiled.

Alvaro kissed him again, this time for longer, like he wanted to remember how Paulo tasted. And then he let go of Paulo – it was lucky he did, too, or Paulo would’ve just stayed there forever.

He turned back every few steps to see Alvaro just. Just standing there, gazing fondly at him, not even bothering to respond to his dad, who looked like he was trying to talk to Alvaro. Paulo walked backwards into departures as he cleared immigration, sensing and seeing the proud smile on Alvaro’s face as his eyes followed Paulo through the crowd.

He blew a kiss at Alvaro right before he lost sight of him. He saw Alvaro blow a kiss back.

Paulo turned around and faced his new life, alone, head-on, just like how he knew Alvaro – strong, independent, mature, kind, amazing, love of his life Alvaro – would do. Just like how he knew Alvaro would want him to do.

#alvaro morata #paulo dybala #dybata #real madrid #juventus #juve #football fanfiction #aeibpdam