#IT KINDA WENT OUT OF CONTROL IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE JUST QUICK SKETCHES LIKE THE OG DRESS POST OH WELL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

letsmellowjello · 4 years ago

Text

The Notebook

Pairings: Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Warnings: just fluff and a tiny bit of language

Summary: Anakin doesn’t know that you draw him, but then he finds your notebook.

Notes: I absolutely hate how I wrote their little battle, it just seems so slow and not exciting. Just do me a favor and try and use your imagination a bit, okay? Just an fyi that nobody asked for, I honestly think I’m the funniest person ever and I think that the title that I chose is kinda funny (it really isn’t but still). Feedback is appreciated! The gif isn’t mine

Masterlist ~ Prompts/Requests

Some would call it stalkerish, others would call it infatuation, but you called it pure boredom and a good reference. Ever since you met Anakin Skywalker, you had been drawing him. Every spare moment was spent sketching away in your little notebook the lines of his face and the swoops of his hair. When you first started doing it you saw it as purely a way to kill time and hone your own art skills, but over time it became something of a habit and maybe, just maybe you were falling for him a little bit. Whenever you had a moment, you were always itching to take out your little notebook and pencil.

Of course Anakin never knew anything about it, you didn’t intend for him to. All he knew was that you liked to draw at times and that you had a notebook. You had to admit, it was a little creepy, but what else could you do when the pictures drew themselves? Anakin was absolutely gorgeous and a wonderful model even if he didn’t know it. You would never tell him any of these things, it would only boost his ego.

“That was absolutely horrible,” You groaned as you and Anakin left the Jedi Council Chamber. You had both just debriefed the council of what had happened during you mission which was a complete and utter mess to say the least. Nobody had died thank goodness, but so many things went wrong and it had just taken so much longer than necessary.

“I can second that,” Anakin agreed. “I have to go see Obi-Wan real quick, but do you want to go grab something to eat later?”

“Sure, I’ll meet you in the banquet hall. See you later.” You turned and walked down the hall in the opposite direction of Anakin. You always loved your little post-mission dates. They weren’t actual dates of course, but it had become something of a ritual since you were padawans to go get something to eat and just talk and wind down after a mission.

You walked into the banquet hall and chose a seat next to one of the towering windows that overlooked the city of Coruscant. There were very few people in the hall as it was an odd time of the afternoon to be getting food, but you were both off for the rest of the day so you didn’t need to worry about missing a training session or meeting.

As you sat down you sighed tiredly, it felt like you hadn’t gotten the chance to relax in forever, which wasn’t too far from the truth. During the mission, the only time that you had been able to get any amount of relaxation or rest was in between jumps and even then there wasn’t nearly enough time to properly sleep or do a little sketching. All throughout the mission and the debriefing with the council, you had been itching to take out your notebook and start drawing. So now, when you were finally able to sit back, you took out your notebook and began to transfer your creativity to the old and crinkled paper.

As time went on, Anakin’s face began to appear soon followed by his hair, neck, shoulders, and body. You had a really good memory when it came to remembering what things or people looked like so you could draw them later. The boy in your drawing was in a powerful stance with his lightsaber raised above his head to protect against his opposition. It had been when you were on Jedha for just a little bit of reconnaissance. It was supposed to be really easy and just a quick in and out. But Anakin being Anakin and you being you, of course you had gotten into trouble and had drawn some unwanted attention which then caused you to be fending off blasters while trying to escape.

The pages of your notebook were filled with similar sketches; some of him smiling, being angry, sad, thoughtful, you had it all. Anakin was just a very expressive person which made for some very interesting drawings.

Your pencil scratched lightly at the paper to shade in the shadows of his face when you felt a presence approach from behind you.

“Boo!” Whoever it was put their hands on your shoulders to scare you. Even though you knew that someone was there, you still squeaked in surprise. You quickly closed your notebook and turned to see Anakin, but not before he got a glance at your drawing. “Hey, what were you drawing?”

“Anakin! Don’t scare me like that! How did things with Obi-Wan go?” You completely ignored his question and tried to distract him away from your notebook.

“Hey hey hey, don’t change the subject. What were you drawing? Can I see? You’re always doing stuff in that notebook and I never know what it is.” He reached for it but you pulled it away.

“No! It’s none of your business!” You protested, trying to keep it away from him.

“Let me see!” He leaned across the table and tried to pull your arm closer so he could grab the book but you resisted. It soon became an all out battle to try and get the notebook with Anakin basically on top of the table and you leaning very far back in your chair. The few people who were in the hall looked over at the two of you in disdain at the ruckus that you were making. He climbed over the table but you quickly got up and tried to hide the book in your robes but then he was there preventing you from doing such a thing. The two of you fought ruthlessly against each other to obtain the book until you managed to break free of his grip and dart away but he was quick to follow.

“Y/n get back here! I just want to see your drawing!” You were now jumping over tables and chairs to try and get away. Oh how Obi-Wan would not be pleased. The entire time he was on your heals but then he slowed and extended his arm using the Force to pull you back to him.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” You protested as you tried to resist him, your feet slipping on the floor helplessly. Once he had pulled you to him, he wrapped his arms around you to try and stop you from struggling.

“Y/n just- argh stop moving! Just let me see!” Even though you were a powerful Jedi, his physical strength was too much. Realizing that there was nothing that you could do and that he would find out your secret sooner or later, you gave up and stopped squirming in his grasp. You let him take the book with a reluctant and frustrated huff.

“Anakin,” you said before he opened the book, “just know that it’s not as creepy as it looks. I promise, okay?”

“Um... okay?” He gave you a funny look and then directed his attention back to the notebook. He opened it up carefully and was absolutely dumbstruck at what he found. Almost all of the pages were filled with sketches of himself in all sorts of poses and expressions. Your face burned with embarrassment and all of the sudden the floor and your shuffling feet became the most interesting thing around. “Y/n... these are amazing...” he breathed.

You mumbled a “thank you” under your breath.

“So this is what you’ve been doing with every spare second?” He turned the notebook towards you. “You’ve been drawing me? You liiiiiiike meeee” his face scrunched up as he teased you.

“Oh shut up! No I don’t!”

“Yes you do! You like me! You like me! Why else would you only ever be drawing me then, huh?”

“Ugh fine! So what if I do? It’s just a couple of drawings! And besides, who would like a colossal ass such as yourself?”

“You would! Obviously.” He grinned at you as you turned away from him crossing your arms and huffed. “Oh come on y/n!” He took you by the shoulders and turned you to face him. “It’s not that big of a deal, and I don’t really blame you, I am quite amazing.” He wore a smug look on his face and subtly flexed his muscles. You rolled your eyes and began to move away but he pulled you right back, not letting go of your shoulders this time. You were now painfully aware of how close you were and the mere centimeters separating the two of you.

“I um, I have to-” You spluttered in any attempt to leave the situation. You didn’t want to meet his eyes because you knew that if you did you’d just fall for him even harder and this time you might not be able to control yourself.

“Y/n...” Anakin’s voice was soft now and had lost it’s smugness and pride. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be ashamed. Hey, look at me.” He tilted your chin up a little bit and you reluctantly met his gaze. What you saw in his face startled you. You didn’t see that arrogant and prideful boy you knew, there wasn’t even a hint of teasing humor or cockiness in his face. Instead there was something else. Understanding, maybe? Shyness? Care? Who was this boy and what did he do with Anakin?

“It’s not okay though, I’ve broken one of the most prominent rules of the Jedi Code! I’ve fallen for someone, and another Jedi at that!”

“That makes two of us.” His voice came out as almost a whisper. You barely heard it, but when you did it took you a moment to register the gravity of his statement.

“Wait wha-?” And then the centimeters between you disappeared and his lips were on yours. Your eyes widened by then you relaxed and fell into the kiss. It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. You had never experienced anything like it and weren’t sure you’d ever experience anything like it again. His hands came up to cup your cheeks and yours went to hold the back of his head, pulling him closer. But unfortunately, being human, you needed to breath. You separated reluctantly, but this time the space in between you buzzed with energy.

“So um...”

“Shhh no words. Just enjoy the moment.”

“But-” Anakin placed a finger on your lips to quiet you.

“Shhh...” You obliged and gently rested your forehead on his.

After a moment of comfortable silence, he broke the quiet. “Do you think anyone saw us? What do you think will happen if the Jedi Council finds out?”

“Oh fuck the Jedi Council, what are they going to do? Get rid of their two best and youngest Jedis?” Your own words surprised you. That position was usually reserved for Anakin.

“I’d like to do that again y/n.”

“Me too...” The space began to close again and your eyes fluttered shut until the door to the banquet hall opened. You and Anakin careened away from each other to the other sides of the room.

“Ok, please tell me that wasn’t what I think it was.” Obi-Wan stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and a disapproving but humorous look on his face.

“No nope, not at all Obi-Wan.” Anakin assured him and you nodded in agreement.

“Good, because you both know the repercussions that could follow. Anakin come with me, I need to have a little chat with my young padawan.”

“But I-” He protested.

“No buts! Let's go!” He took a fistful of Anakin’s robes and began dragging him out of the hall. On his way out Anakin gave you a helpless look that you could only laugh at.

Once they left you sank down into the nearest seat hugging the notebook to your chest, still riding out the high that you had gotten from the kiss. You felt like a lovesick little schoolgirl whose crush had just winked at her from across the playground. In all your years of life you never thought you would fall so fast and so hard for anyone, let alone Anakin Skywalker. Yet here you were. And as luck, or the Force, would have it, he felt the same about you. Obviously you couldn’t be together in the conventional way, but just knowing was enough for you.

You did not know what the future held, but what you did know was that Anakin was in it.

~~~

Taglist: @umpoedameron

#star wars #star wars imagine #imagine #Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin-skywalker-imagines #mellow jello imagine #fanfic #star wars fanfiction

73 notes · View notes

cartoonfangirl1218 · 3 years ago

Text

Winner’s Curse Ch. 27

The Coven was invading tomorrow.

But if all went well, they were going to bring them down tonight.

After Jay attacked Antiquam, they realized they could not keep their cover of staying in the Coven. Jay, Aziz, and her headed out to Uma’s ship for hiding when Antiquam inevitably revealed that Jay was no longer hypnotized.

Though dangerous, Jade, Uma and Calix stayed as Antiquam wouldn’t be able to prove that Jay had any help from breaking Jafar’s control. So they still had their own infiltraitors in the Coven.

At that point, it seemed like they were on the sidelines. The sidelines of an impending disaster that they could do nothing to stop. Literally as they still had no tangible plan to stop the Coven.

Then Celia, the shadow man’s youngest daughter who hadn’t been in the loop for most of their infiltrating and espionage troubles, came up with a brilliant plan.

It was obvious in hindsight. Villains were paranoid because they expected backstabbing. But until Celia had suggested it, they never thought they should sew the seeds of dissent. Uma had thought it too obvious. The others hadn’t thought of it all. But Celia suggested that only select people plant the seeds. She, for one. Jade too. They were presumed to be completely loyal to the Coven and so would more likely be believed to be speaking from genuine concern than from causing trouble.

And Celia could plant the idea in the heads of Ginny and Zevon which would then bring out Mother Gothel and Yzma’s worries. And so without the united focus in hatred, which Circe told them was vital to the spell, Coven would turn against itself and bring its own ruin.

And then on Uma’s signal, they’d come in as magical backup.

Jordan sighed. Even though she told herself that she had chosen Uma as a better leader, that she knew what she was doing, and she was okay with no longer being the hero, it stung to be stuck as backup and not be in the front lines of the plan or the fighting.

Especially when it meant, waiting in Hook’s office, away from the crew that disliked them anyway, waiting for word from Uma since their presence was too obvious to be wandering around the Isle. Although, as Jordan looked at her fellow Agrabahians, with their dirtied faces, ratted hair and ripped clothes, she thought the Isle had made its mark in turning Jay and Aziz into two more villainous-looking residents.

Right now, the two were chatting it up about some tourney strategy or parkour technique, she wasn’t sure. It was something athletic which Jordan tended to zone out and think for herself. And when her thoughts got too deep, she’d admire, well more like wonder, Hook’s knicks knacks decorating his office. What possessed him to spear a codfish over his desk. Seriously? It didn’t look grand or particularly impressive since it was medium sized and covered in green flecks that Jordan suspected it to be mold.

Was it a pirate thing? Like when that CJ chick purposefully made herself smell like rotten kelp? Was it a villain thing for their decorations to be as vile as their hearts?

She wondered if she could ask Jay this or it would be considered too offensive. Maybe a few months from now when-

A quick “knock knock knock” signalled their attention, announcing Uma’s arrival. And with her came the usual suspects of Gil, Harry and Calix. As well as some more recent additions of Celia, Jade and Lala.

Which Jade was all too happy to explain as she jumped in front of Uma, her arms opened wide, “Guess who got us another fighter on our side?”

Lala stiffened and crossed her arms at Jade’s enthusiasm, refusing to look at the girl who was trying to hook her arm through hers, “I finally convinced her that we’re already miserable with her moms so why not join the winning side. It’s not like our lives could get worse if we lose.”

Everyone looked disbelieving at that statement. After all, their lives could get worse if they lost, they could be dead.

Jordan didn’t think anyone else noticed, but she paid attention to the extra bright smile Aziz had at hearing the news. And unless she was just imagining things, she could swear that Lala had looked at Aziz first to see his reaction before looking anywhere else.

It was for a moment but it was there, and even though Aziz still insisted he didn’t have feelings, Jordan knew. And unlike her previous, and in hindsight, very bad overreaction to it, she didn’t mind it as much. After all, a girl that made Aziz feel better about his Jay inferiority complex (when all of Jordan’s pep talks hadn’t worked which kind of stung) couldn’t be too bad. Even if she was the daughter of a villain.

“Uh great. Thanks, Jade.” Uma made her way back to the center of the room as everyone squeezed against the wall or in Celia and Gil’s case sat on Captain Hook’s desk, listening intently to whatever Uma had up her sleeve.

“Okay people. We have five hours to get through this so here are the assignments.” Uma began, “Harry, Gil, gather up the rest of the crew and take position around the castle. When I signal, you shoot the bow through the window and begin the seige.” “Celia, since you’re not needed for the Coven’s spell, you can gather the rest of the Anti Villain Club, and the volunteers.” “The volunteers?” Jay questioned with, in a very un-VK move, a raised hand.

“The Anti Villain Club and I have been soliciting volunteers from the regular citizens of the Isle to fight against the Coven in exchange to getting off the Isle,” Uma promptly explained before moving on.

“Calix, Jade, Lala and I are expected at the ceremony so you three,” She nodded to them, “Will sneak in through the Underground entrances and will get into the room, at the top of the tallest tower, and help end the fight. Got it? Let’s go.”

So they split up, Gil and Harry heading toward the starboard, (or was it stern?), Celia to the alleyways and the rest of them were back to trudging through the jungle to the castle.

Jay, and Jade strode side by side each other, pausing to show off a parkour move as they talked, predicting how their family members would react to their arrival. Aziz and Lala walked in companionable silence, hacking away at tangled brush, but Jordan wasn’t paying attention as she had been before.

Jordan walked up to Uma’s side, a choice that the sea witch hadn’t appreciated Jordan could see by the forced way Uma kept her eyes straight ahead. But Jordan had a question that had been burning in her after watching Uma’s leadership skills the past weeks.

“So… where did you learn how to lead like this? I mean your mom was just a witch so why haven’t you focused more on your mystical side,” Jordan cringed realizing how it sounded and began backtracking, “Not that I expect you to be like your mother. No one is exactly like your parents. I don’t mean that. But just- you know.. Does it come naturally? Did you learn it from someone?”

“I’m Ursula’s daughter, but do not let her define me. I make my own legacy.” Uma ducked under a stray leaf, “To give my people a chance, to get off this Isle and live better lives. And if I wanted to make that happen, I learned to lead. On the Isle, you learn what you need to. ” Uma grunted before walking faster and farther ahead.

Though Uma probably hadn’t meant anything by it. It was probably a “there-I-answered- now-shut-up-and-do-what-you-were- ordered-to-do” answer to get Jordan to go away.

Even though it offered no advice on leadership,it got Jordan to thinking. So many of them, all of them really, had their issues with the heavy legacy that their parents set before them. They were all defined by them, especially when it was announced “Name, son or daughter of-.” It was part of life. A more difficult part of life when their legacy was founded on greed and vileness and evil like the Vks.

But even though they were defined by their parents, these Vks tried their best not to let it control their lives. They lived day to day, in the present. Mainly it was for survival reasons, but it could work personally too, Jordan thought.

She had been defining herself solely by her parents. Not trying to live up to them. By rebelling to be the exact opposite of them. It is always in some relation to them or what others’ preconceptions of genies were supposed to be.

And she did the same. Judging people with her views of mortals, which were mostly right, but didn’t make her happy. It just made her miserable to know she was surrounded by so many jerks. And it kinda made her self-absorbed. Musing and complaining about how people only wanted to use her. She had been so focused on that during her time here, she had missed Aziz’s personal turmoil; She had been distrustful and uncooperative with Jay; She focused on her personal safety and her fear of the other Coven members taking advantage of her more than saving the kingdom.

But what if she took a page from the Vks book.

Just live in the present, and not focus solely on the resentment of the past.

It was a new way. Instead of expecting the worst, she could let people come into her life, if they were just using her, cut ties and let it go because she had Aziz, and Calix, and maybe Jay and Lonnie and the rest of her family. They cared for her.

And she should let go of her biggest resentment. Her parents for leaving her. For so long she saw it as evidence of their lack of love for her, and while it hurt, it didn’t lessen their love. And she hadn’t let them in because they didn’t love her like the other parents loved their children. They weren’t what she wanted. Which wasn’t fair. They weren’t like others, they were genies.

So if she survived this, she was going to stop with the sarcasm and the irritation whenever she was with them. But she was also going to have that talk with them, a serious talk even though they disliked those things, because as she had experienced with Jay and Aziz, a talk could go a long way in resolving their differences.

She was going to focus more on what she loved. Her show, mabe even add some improv sketches that she had refused to do because it was too similar to her Dad’s antics. She had no reason to hold back just because someone would compare or judge. People would always judge you so there was no point trying to prove them wrong. Just follow your instincts, do what is right because you know is right, and YOLO. YOLO because even though she lived forever, she should do more in enjoying what she had. Enjoy life.

And if they didn’t like her for it, fuck em all.

And there, right in that muddy path with jungle palms blocking sunlight as if to suffocate them all with the smell of moss and the hot humidity; Stuck on an Isle where semi rotten trash was considered high dining and you were praised for your bloodlust and kindness of any kind was a weakness.

Jordan felt a peace with the doubts that had plagued her for.. for maybe her whole life.

It was the most inappropriate place for such a realization but it was perfect too. The Isle was loathsome and the bottom of the barrel, but rock bottom was where you find your greatest strength.

Jordan smiled, remembering how Calix had thrown her own story tropes back in her face that every adventure had heart to hearts and personal revelations before the final battle.

She didn’t know about anyone else, but she was having hers. Even though she was not the leader, even though she wasn’t going to be the hero to save the day. She felt changed and it felt so good.

But she couldn’t bask in the glow of her personal growth for long. For as her newfound maturity reminded her, there were bigger things at stake right now.

Tonight was the night. The Coven was going down.

#jordan #aziz #jay #uma #harry hook #gil legume #jade #calix #lala #celia facilier #disney descendants #my fanfic #my fanfiction #winner’s curse #chapter twenty seven

3 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 5 years ago

Text

My Heart Like a Firework Part 2

@livrever said: What about Luka drives through a puddle splashing/soaking Marinette and he stops to apologize/takes her home to change

@justknitstuff said: Luka works in a music store and Marinette ducks into his shop to escape a downpour of rain, they start talking and while he’s showing her around to pass the time she starts getting hit with inspiration for guitar string jewelry

Here’s part 2! Part 1 is here. Also, can I just say, mwah, I love you all. I packed as much fluff as I could in here.

Marinette was picking her sketchbook back up when there was a sudden twang and Luka yelped. She jumped, dropping her book, and turned wide eyes on him and he grinned back, clearly embarrassed. “Sorry. Popped a string,” he said. “Surprised me.”

Marinette giggled. “I didn’t know that could happen.”

“It can happen if your strings are worn out. Or if there’s something sharp on the guitar where the string’s rubbing, but mine are just old.” Luka shrugged. “I’m a bit later than usual replacing mine because I’ve been busy, so it’s not really a surprise.” He carried the guitar over to the counter, and then went to one of the displays. Thumbing through the packets hanging there, he selected one. “I guess I might as well heed the warning and replace all of them.”

Marinette slid down from her perch to come over and lean on the counter near him, watching with interest as Luka took the old strings off. He moved with confidence and efficiency, and she found herself watching his hands. He laid the old strings aside on the counter as they came free. “May I?” she asked, touching one of the old strings.

“Be my guest.” Luka smiled absently as he began putting the new strings on. Marinette watched him for a moment, feeling more able to look at him now that his rather intense gaze was focused elsewhere. The shaggy blue-tipped hairstyle suited him, kept him from being too sharp with his strong nose and cheekbones and pointed chin. The wide bracelets he wore accentuated the muscles of his forearms. She glanced at his shoulders for only a second before looking away with a blush. She’d gotten more than an eyeful of his bare back earlier, after all. His build might tend towards long and lean rather than broad and bulky but he was plenty athletic.

Luka didn’t look up from what he was doing, but Marinette caught the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and was suddenly mortifyingly certain he knew she was checking him out. Blushing, she turned her attention to the discarded guitar strings. Well, she reflected with a little smile of her own, after the way he’d looked at her when she’d finished changing, maybe she didn’t have to be too embarrassed.

Marinette picked up the strings, examining the different thicknesses. An idea began to brew in the back of her mind as she twisted a couple of the strings together thoughtfully. Marinette grabbed her sketchbook and opened it, laying the strings across it as she began to sketch different woven patterns, using different colored pencils to represent the different strands.

“Could you do an infinity knot?”

Marinette gasped and jumped so high that she nearly lost her balance. Luka reached across the counter and grabbed her upper arms to steady her.

“Woah! Sorry, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were quite that in the zone.”

“Oh,” Marinette sighed, putting a hand over her fluttering heart. “I’m sorry, I was—”

“Obviously,” Luka chuckled. “And I’m the one who’s sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted you. I just saw what you were doing and I got really interested, and—well, my mom’s Scottish, and what you were doing makes me think of some of the Celtic jewelry she wears.”

“Of course,” Marinette said, tapping her pencil thoughtfully. She turned the page and picked up her phone. “Let me find some references.”

Luka pulled out his own phone and found some pictures of his mother.

“She looks like a fun lady,” Marinette giggled as he zoomed in on one of her bracelets.

“She’s a character,” Luka grinned. “I think you’d like her. She’d definitely like you,” he added absently, laying the phone on the counter and turning it so Marinette could see.

Unexpectedly flustered by that comment, Marinette put her own phone next to his with the examples of knotwork she’d found. For a moment they were silent as Marinette sketched. She glanced up at Luka once, and he immediately straightened. “Sorry, am I bothering you? I can find something else to do if you’d rather I didn’t watch.”

“It’s fine,” Marinette said, smiling at his thoughtfulness, “But you’re blocking the light.”

“Oh, sorry,” Luka hopped over the counter and leaned beside her instead. “Is this okay?”

Marinette made an affirmative noise, already deep in thought about the length of the strings and how to use the varying thicknesses and materials. Eventually, she sat back.

“Wow, that looks great,” Luka said, lightly touching one of the sketches. “My sister would love this one, with the kind of lacey look.”

“It’s just a sketch, though,” Marinette said, blushing. “I don’t know if it would actually work. If they aren’t stiff enough it might all just collapse on itself.”

“Let’s try it,” Luka said encouragingly, straightening up. “You probably need what, pliers and wire cutters?”

“Um,” Marinette blinked. “Yeah.”

“No problem, I’ll be right back.” Luka knocked on the counter twice and went into the back room.

Marinette took a moment to breathe and smooth her hands over her hair. It was almost dry, but when she looked toward the door she could see that the rain was still falling steadily. Still, it wasn’t so bad. She’d have preferred to be stuck somewhere with coffee and cozy chairs, but this wasn’t so bad, and Luka was...really nice.

Really nice. And really nice looking. He had the softest eyes when he looked at her, a clear cerulean rather than the baby blue of her own, and there was something in his slow smiles and easy grins that made her stomach flutter.

And he’d been so kind. Being both clumsy and frequently distracted, Marinette had a lot of experience with being run into, splashed, or knocked over. Usually the most she got was a hurried apology and a hand up, but Luka had done so much more. He hadn’t yelled or blamed her, just taken quiet control of the situation and done his best to make her comfortable. Even though she’d been stuck in here with him, he hadn’t made her uncomfortable at all. Any time she got the least bit fidgety with his presence, he backed off.

Marinette put her head down on the counter and covered her head with her arms with a quiet groan. She barely knew him, she reminded herself. She wasn’t going to do this crush thing again so soon. Just because he’d been kind and sweet and fun and seemed like he kinda liked her…

No, nope, not going there. She turned her head to check on the storm. The windows rattled as a sudden gust drove the rain against them. Marinette groaned again, pouting. She could just go home, she supposed, just suck it up and make a run for it even if it meant she would get soaked. But...

She shot upright as Luka came back, with the tools and a chair, and tried to look composed. “Here, come on back, you might as well sit down while you work,” he said, setting the chair down. He opened the wooden counter for her and, though she felt a little self-conscious, Marinette slipped through. “Here, there’s a spot over here we use for repairs, it’s all yours.”

“You really don’t have to do all this,” Marinette felt compelled to say as she sat down.

“Are you kidding?” Luka grinned. “I think this is amazing. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

“It might not even work,” Marinette protested weakly.

“Hmm, we’ll see,” Luka replied in a tolerably non-committal tone, but Marinette could see from the look on his face as he turned away that he had complete faith in her. “I’ll try not to hover,” he added, when he noticed her looking at him. “Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“O-okay,” she said, smoothing her hair again self-consciously. He was really cute when he smiled like that, and the way he looked at her gave her butterflies. Marinette turned quickly to the table, telling herself to stop imagining things.

She picked up the tools and the strings, and soon she forgot about Luka altogether, snipping and twisting and problem-solving. She needed some jewelry fixtures though, she thought absently. She’d need clasps to make bracelets and necklaces, and she could make some nice earrings if she had the findings here, but for now...

“Luka,” she called absently, “Do you have any soldering equipment?”

He didn’t answer right away. Marinette looked up and to her surprise, he was looking right at her. He was on the other side of the counter, leaning with his chin on his hand, watching her with a soft, dreamy expression that made her face heat. “Luka?” she prompted.

“Hmm?” he blinked. “Oh, sorry, I was—you were just really into what you were doing and it was...uh, cute.” He gave her one of those warm smiles that made her stomach flutter. “You’re really cute. Sorry, what were you saying? Did you need something?”.

Marinette tried to contain her own smile. “Do you have a soldering iron or something like that?” she asked shyly.

“Sure, I’ll go get,” he said, sliding off the counter and heading for the door to the back room.

Marinette giggled softly to herself, both flattered and embarrassed by his apparent admiration. If only he wasn’t so cute himself she might be able to keep her cool, but he was simultaneously hot and adorable and she was maybe screaming a little bit on the inside, catching him giving her such a mushy look. She bit her lip and tried to focus on the two strings she was twisting together, one of the heavy gauge and one of the finer ones.

She darted a quick smile up at Luka as he brought her what she needed, but looked back to her work quickly. The safety glasses were a bit big, but she managed to get them balanced on her nose, ignoring Luka’s quiet chuckle from behind her.

Marinette paused, and bit her lip, wavering in indecision for a moment. Then she glanced up at Luka. “Can I, um, borrow your hand?” she asked, feeling her face warm at her own daring.

Luka grinned and leaned up against her workspace, holding his hand out. “As long as you need.”

Marinette took his hand and turned it over, wrapping the string around his finger to get an idea of the length she needed. “How’s that?” she asked, frowning. “Comfortable? Or too tight?”

“A little tight,” he said, and Marinette adjusted. “Better,” he agreed.

“Got it.” Marinette said, struggling to hold the strings while reaching for the sharpie in her art kit. With Luka’s help she managed to get the length marked. She smiled at him. “You can have your hand back now.”

“If you’re sure,” Luka said with a grin, and nope, she was not thinking about how warm and smooth his voice was or how he was very definitely flirting with her. He was a musician, after all, of course he had a nice voice. And just because she’d been feeling down on herself lately was no reason to go all gooey inside over the first boy who was nice to her. She definitely did not let her fingers trail over his palm as he pulled away, and she definitely did not see him swallow.

It took a little more trial and error, but finally, she had a successful finished product.

“There,” Marinette said, setting down the tools. She picked the ring up in the pliers and turned it, examining it critically. “I think that should work.” She grinned up at Luka, dropping the ring on her palm and holding it out to him. “Want to try it?”

Luka smiled at her, and he took the ring from her palm without moving his eyes from hers. He slid it on his finger and wiggled his fingers experimentally.

“Nice,” he grinned.

“Is it comfortable?” Marinette asked, leaning over and taking his hand in both of hers to look. “I might need to polish where I did the soldering so it’s not rough, but…”

“Yeah, but otherwise it feels good. A little different from the one I usually wear, but not bad.” He paused, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“What?” Marinette asked, tilting her head as she looked up at him.

“It might sound stupid,” he said slowly, meeting her eyes. “But I played a lot of songs on these strings, you know? So I feel kind of...attached in a way I didn’t expect. Does that make sense or am I just crazy?”

Marinette hmmed thoughtfully. “No, I can see that. That makes sense.”

“I was thinking that if this worked out and you wanted to make more, we could sell them here in the store,” Luka mused. “But now I’m thinking people might be willing to buy something like this on commission as well. Bring in their old strings, ones they used for a special moment or whatever, and make them a special piece of jewelry from them. That’d be awesome.”

“You really think people would want that?” Marinette suddenly realized she was still holding onto his hand and let go quickly. Luka smiled, and his blue eyes flicked to hers in a way that said he wouldn’t have minded if she had held on a little longer.

“Hell, I’d commission a couple of pieces from you right now,” Luka said, leaning on the wall to look over her workspace. “I could swap Mom’s strings out for her and she’d think I was just doing her a favor until I brought her jewelry made out of her old strings. She’ll flip and my sister will be soooooo pissed that I found the perfect gift—and then she’d demand a set for herself.” He chuckled. “How’d it go with the knot ideas?”

“Oh,” Marinette turned back to the bench, motioning him closer, though she shivered a little when he leaned over her and his breath ghosted across her neck. “I think I made it work,” she said, pointing at several strings she had laid out and woven into designs similar to the ones she’d drawn. “I need some other pieces, though, like a crimp to put here and here to hold it together—I can solder the prototype but it won’t look as clean as it would with a proper jewelry crimp—and then it would need a clasp of some sort. And I thought these would make cute earrings—” she pointed to some strings she’d laid out in a shorter, rounder knot layout. “But again, I’d need crimps and findings to make it stay.”

“That’s fantastic,” Luka said admiringly. “You’re amazing, Marinette.”

Marinette giggled. “Oh, I’m—well. Thanks.”

“I know this wasn’t how you planned to spend your day,” Luka said, smiling down at her. “But...I’m glad we met, although I’m still sorry for drenching you.” They both laughed, and both turned in surprise as the bell on the shop door rang for the first time that day.

“Hi, welcome,” Luka said, straightening up. “How’s it doing out there?”

“Wet,” the man grunted, “But not as gnarly as it was. I’m here to pick up an order.”

“Sure, let me grab that for you and—”

Marinette tuned them out, picking up the soldering gun again. She carefully finished the connection points on the bracelet and earrings, doing as clean a job as she could manage. Then she stood up and stretched.

“Oh, hey, you got a new girl working?”

Marinette started, and turned wide eyes toward the counter where Luka was standing with the customer, who was eyeing her appreciatively. Luka glanced back at her and moved between her and the customer smoothly with a smile. “Not exactly. Marinette’s been working on some new merchandise for us.” He turned toward Marinette, gesturing to the bracelet. “May I?”

“Oh, yes, it should be okay now,” Marinette said quickly.

“Your skirt’s riding up,” Luka murmured as he leaned over to pick up the bracelet. Marinette gasped and tried to tug the hem of her improvised t-shirt dress down as discreetly as she could. Of course she would forget how short it was just as someone came in. Luka took his time leaning over in front of her to pick up the bracelet, blocking her from view for a long moment so she could get adjusted.

“Marinette’s working on a line of guitar-string jewelry for us,” Luka explained, laying the bracelet across his hands as he turned back to the customer. “Might be a cool gift for your wife, huh?” Luka said, still smiling but with a slight edge to his voice. “It’s almost your anniversary, right?”

“Oh, uh, right,” the big man said, shaking his head slightly and focusing on the bracelet in Luka’s hands. “Oh, hey, that’s pretty cool, actually.”

“We were just discussing the idea of offering them as custom pieces,” Luka continued. “You bring in your old strings, maybe ones you’ve used for some special moment? And Marinette turns them into something special for your loved one.”

“That’s probably the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard,” the customer chuckled. “My wife would love it. How much?”

“We’re still working out the details,” Luka smiled coolly. “It’s kind of experimental right now, but if you’d like I can give you a call when we’ve finalized things?”

“Sure, that’d be great. You guys have my number. Thanks.” The man grinned and gave a half-wave to Marinette. “Have a good day, Miss.”

Marinette managed a smile while Luka escorted the customer out. As soon as the door was closed, Luka turned back. “You okay?” he asked seriously.

“Yeah. A little embarrassed,” she tugged at the hem of her shirt again, “But I’ll live. Of course I forget right when there’s actually someone here to see.”

Luka put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable. Or if I did,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No, you were trying to help,” Marinette smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiled back, and handed her back the bracelet. “So, what do you think? I have to talk to my mom, of course, but if she wanted to offer something like this, how would you feel about it?”

“Hmm,” Marinette frowned thoughtfully, checking the time. “They didn’t take that long to make. I don’t think I could make too many at once. If we limit the custom orders and set clear expectations for turnaround, it should be doable. For the other pieces, we could possibly agree on a minimum weekly delivery, and then—what?” Marinette narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she realized Luka was giving her That Smile again.

“Nothing, sorry. You’re just...very professional.”

Marinette glared at him. “I am a professional. And If you tell me it’s cute I will hit you.”

“I would never patronize you that way,” Luka promised, one hand over his heart. “And you are absolutely cute no matter what you’re doing.”

Marinette flushed, and smacked his arm. “Don’t you know better than to flirt while you’re trying to do business?”

“I do, I do,” Luka chuckled, raising his hands defensively. “I’m sorry. I promise, no more flirting on business time. So do you have a business card I can give my mom? In the meantime, maybe you could put us together an estimate for pricing and a proposal for that minimum number you were talking about?”

“Certainly, I can do that,” Marinette said briskly, and gave Luka a dark look when his mouth twitched. She stepped over to her bag and dug out the small monogrammed sleeve that held her business cards. “How would you feel about me contracting out some of the actual assembly to local young people in need of employment?”

Luka coughed, and Marinette was sure he was trying not to laugh as he took the pink business card . “As long as quality still meets an acceptable minimum standard, I think we could live with that. What sort of quality control would you put in place if you went that route?”

“I’d inspect each piece prior to delivery,” Marinette replied, “If I determine any pieces to be substandard, I’ll replace them, and deduct the cost of the wasted materials from my next invoice. If you find any upon inspection that you feel aren’t up to standard, I’ll inspect it at the time of my next delivery and replace it if necessary.”

“What about the custom orders?” Luka asked. “We can’t replace the materials in that case.”

“I’ll do all of the custom orders myself, unless one of my apprentices reliably demonstrates consistent aptitude. If I think one of them is up to it, though, I’ll discuss it with you first and their first few attempts would be heavily supervised.”

Luka smiled. “Well, again, our owner Madame Couffaine will have to approve these terms, but that sounds reasonable to me. Please include it in the terms of your proposal. When should I tell her to expect it?”

“By the end of the week. If possible, I’d like Madame Couffaine to review it and set up a meeting by the end of the following week.”

“I think we can make that work.”

“Excellent. Happy to do business with you, Mr. Couffaine,” Marinette said, offering her hand.

“Likewise, Miss—” He checked her business card quickly. “Dupain-Cheng.”

They stood there for a moment, increasingly dopy smiles on their faces, and then Marinette looked out the window. “It looks like it’s let up, so...I should go.”

“Would it ruin everything if I kissed you right now?” Luka asked.

Marinette smiled slowly, trying not to show the way her heart was pounding. So much for all her resolutions. “It might. If you do it badly.”

Luka chuckled through his nose, shifting subtly closer. “So if I promise to do it well, can I kiss you?”

“Are we done talking business?” Marinette asked, tilting her head as she looked up at him, eyes twinkling with more bravado than she felt.

“I’m definitely done with business,” Luka told her seriously.

“Then you may,” she said, equally seriously, and the next thing she knew, she was pressed back against the counter and Luka was kissing her hungrily, one hand planted on the counter next to them and the other tangled in her hair. She slipped her arms up around his neck, closed her eyes, and kissed him back for all she was worth, and it definitely wasn’t bad.

Someone cleared their throat. Loudly. Luka bolted upright, staring into the smirking face of his sister.

“Juleka,” he said—nearly whined. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

“You haven’t answered your phone for the past two hours, dumbass,” Juleka told him dryly. “Mom sent me to check on you.” And of course she’d come through the back. Though he might not even have registered the bell if someone had come in through the front, honestly, so maybe it was just as well. “Who’s your friend?” Juleka asked pointedly.

“Um…” Luka glanced at Marinette, who glanced at him, and then suddenly she burst into slightly hysterical giggles, and he couldn’t help joining in. “That’s kind of a long story,” he managed, and they both giggled uncontrollably as Juleka raised her eyebrows. “Just—Just give me a minute, Jules, she was getting ready to leave anyway.”

“Hell of a goodbye kiss,” Juleka observed in her flat way, and then turned to go into the back.

“Hell yeah, it was,” Luka muttered, grinning at the floor, before turning to look at Marinette. “Sorry for my crappy timing. Maybe we could revisit this sometime when I’m not supposed to working? Maybe have dinner together first?”

“Maybe,” Marinette smiled, packing her things back in her bag. “We’ll see.”

Luka leaned on the counter and grinned. “It wasn’t bad, right?”

Marinette giggled, without looking at him. “Not bad at all. May I have my shoes and my clothes please?”

Luka went to get them, grinning like a fool. Marinette held onto his arm to steady herself as she put on her shoes, and then she took her bag and the bag containing her wet clothes.

“I really enjoyed spending time with you today,” Luka grinned. “If that wasn’t obvious.” He slipped a card out of his pocket and handed it to her, turning it so she could see the handwritten number on the back. “Here’s my number.”

Marinette paused and programmed it into her phone right then, sending him a message. “And now you have mine.” Luka bit back a shit-eating grin, staring at the floor as he opened the door for her to keep from giving himself away. As she passed, Marinette popped up on her toes to kiss him lightly, and gave him a sassy grin as she slipped out of the door.

He shut the door and turned his back to it, letting his stupid grin take over his face. Juleka must have heard the bell because she came out of the back.

“So,” Luka said conversationally, heading back to the long-abandoned pile of boxes he’d been shelving. “What’s it going to cost me for you to maybe not mention this to Mom?”

“How do you know I didn’t already tell her I found you about to ravish a girl on the store counter.”

Luka flushed. “One, I was not. Two, you’re my sister and I know you, and you know me, so you knew I was going to ask that question, so I know you haven’t told Mom before finding what you could get out of me. So. What’ll it take?”

“What are you offering?” Juleka folded her arms.

Luka grinned. “How about some new jewelry?”

#quickspins #promptfic #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #meet-cute #ml fics #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #my heart like a firework #i'll never not know you

111 notes · View notes

csrolereversal · 5 years ago

Text

CS Role Reversal Halloweek 2019 Roundup

It is time! Halloween has passed and all the art and stories have been posted! I am so grateful for those who took part in the event, I couldn’t have asked for a better beginning.

I really want to thank everyone, Artists and Writers and also Readers - yes, always capital letter, everyone is Amazing.

And now, what you’ve been waiting for days - the Roundup (I have no idea whether it is just round-up or round up, I just went with what wordreference told me, that’s my curse lol)

October 25th

- @courtorderedcake ‘s wonderful mind conjured this awesome world and @awkwardnessandbaseball found the perfect words to describe it in:

→ A Fan of Every Part of You

Summary: Killian Jones has a really loud, destructive upstairs neighbor, and he’s about to lose his patience with them. But when he discovers that it’s a beautiful witch with a soft spot for his dangerous familiar, Captain, that complicates things just a bit.

- @clockadile showed us that watercolors can create something stunning right here, and @swanslieutenant dragged us in that world with:

→ caught in irons

Summary: Cursed to become a monster at the rising of the full moon, Emma enlists Hook’s help to venture across the sea to find the only one who can cure her. But with the secret held tight to her chest and the full moon edging closer, sometimes secrecy and lies can be worse than the darkest curse.

October 26th

- @darkcolinodonorgasm brought back to life her undying love for vampires in her piece and @sherlockianwhovian brought the whole piece to life in:

→ Dawn Is A Feeling

Summary: Princess Emma has always heard tales whispered about the crumbling castle in the mountains and with adulthood comes independence, giving her the opportunity to discover the castle’s secrets once and for all. Will she find her end or perhaps her beginning?

- the first contribution to the event of @hollyethecurious is this wonderful ghostly piece which @capnjay21 has turned into a wonderful mysterious ghost story:

→ A House is Never Still

Summary: Five years ago, Emma Swan disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Killian Jones’ disappearance, well, not so mysterious – given the denizens of Storybrooke all but blamed him for her murder. Drawn back to town by a series of strange events, he soon realises the story of what really happened the night she vanished is beginning to unravel, and what’s more: it isn’t over.

October 27th

- inside a wonderful, bright pumpkin, @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 gives us all the family feels @stahlop then brought us into with her:

→ Not all Treasure is Silver and Gold (sometimes it’s chocolate)

Summary: Killian takes his children on a trick or treat treasure hunt to learn about the town’s history and reflects on his own in the process.

- the bloody brilliant @artistic-writer blows us away with her bloody wonderful wolfman!Killian, for which @lillpon wrote:

→ To Give One’s Trust

Summary: Captain Hook has been a werewolf for centuries, in control of his wild state. When he gets kidnapped and experimented upon, his desperate actions to escape have dire consequences for him. When Emma Swan meets a feral werewolf on a night with a full moon, she can sense that there’s something more to that creature. Perhaps, with the right amount of trust, she can help him help himself.

October 28th

- @clockadile and her watercolours hit us again and though at first you can see peace in her art, if you look closer, you can see there’s so much more to it, and that more is what @wellhellotragic explored in her amazing fic:

→ Dead in the Water

Summary: Killian Jones may have just had the worst year of his life. The loss of his hand, of his career, and of his pride were almost more than he could take. In a bid to reclaim his life, Killian decided it was time to face his fears, and get back on the metaphorical horse, or in his case, back on the water. Only, the purchase of a haunted second-hand boat may just come at the cost of his sanity.

- @courtorderedcake drags us to Victorian London with her majestic art of which @snowbellewells tells us the story in:

→ The Case of the Heart in Armor

Summary: Killian “Holmes” Jones is rarely surprised or shocked anymore, but that all changes when he meets one very stubborn - and very beautiful - pickpocket, and trouble brews in the distance, hidden by the London fog…

October 29th

- for whump lovers (and not only them!) @cocohook38 created bloody brilliant art which you can feel as you look at it and which @hollyethecurious brought to life in her:

→ In the Darkness of my Mind

Summary: It still struck Killian as an oddity that a town created by magic and surrounded by its craftings day in and day out would throw itself so fully into the customs of what this land referred to as Halloween. Emma had told him about the holiday’s origins, the belief many held about the veil between worlds being thin enough for the dead to pass over into the land of the living. Never did he imagine that such a phenomena would actually occur, or that he would be the one responsible for allowing an old, formidable foe return from the bowels of the Underworld.

- @kitsunewingstar ‘s entry has me widen my eyes in shock and my jaw drop, and yours will too when you look at it. All we have to see if whether or not @gingerchangeling will find out the truth behind the art in her:

→ The Misthaven Witch

Summary: When Will Scarlett drunkenly accusess KIllian Jones of being afraid of the town’s local legend, he of course has to set his inebriated friend straight. Because there is nothing to fear about the ruins of Misthaven…… and the witch rumored to reside there.

October 30th

- another piece from @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 , another piece that has me shocked because of its beauty, just like @profdanglaisstuff ‘s words do in:

→ come sit at our feast

Summary:It’s Halloween, when all the weird and wondrous beasts of the world creep out of the shadows and throw themselves one hell of a party. For Emma Swan and Killian Jones, witch and shapeshifter respectively, it’s a chance to kick back, get high, and watch the mayhem unfold…

- another amazing piece from @hollyethecurious for which @theonceoverthinker created a magnificent poem:

→ Doppleganger on the Docks

Summary: Even in Storybrooke, the town where most anything can happen, Killian doesn’t expect much chaos when he and Emma go sailing together. But hey, for good or ill, that’s their town, right?

- @cocohook38 hits again! Another beautiful, magnificent and amazingly detailed set of sketches for which @darkcolinodonorgasm created more words that she thought she would - and it’s not over! - in:

→ Kiss the Hell out of me

Summary: Princess Emma had been warned not to seek the Devil of the seas, the pirate captain whose thirst for revenge left only one man alive after every attack so he would tell the tale of the demon that had taken his brothers’ lives. But desperate times call for desperate measures: she has a kingdom to save, and the man who carries himself as a horned king is her only hope. Too bad that Killian Jones is not a man anymore.

October 31st

- @carpedzem ‘s art melted me, I’ve basically turned into the hearty-eyed pumpkin you can spot right here, and @lassluna ‘s wonderful fic didn’t help! Get even more fluffy feelings in:

→ The Pumpkin Incident

Summary: It was supposed to be a quick trip to the pumpkin patch. Quick in and out, grab the pumpkins and get home. She was not supposed to meet newcomer Killian Jones. She was certainly not supposed to end up trick or treating with Henry, a pirate and little Robin Hood. (But why does he look so damn good as a pirate?!)

- and there’s no Halloween without a black and orange piece, which is what @darkcolinodonorgasm did in her last contribution to the event from which the amazing @thisonesatellite took all the angst from to give us the utterly amazing fic that is:

→ All The Darkness In The World

Summary: Love is the greatest weapon of all.

- and last but not least, is @mariakov81 ‘s wonderful, simply beautiful pieces with colours so warm they make me feel warm inside and for which @pirateherokillian created lovely kinda (no, okay, totally) drunken banter in:

→ Witches and Romans

Summary: Halloween keeps throwing the unexpected at Killian Jones.

And that’s a wrap on the first Role Reversal event ever! Again, thank you so much to all of you, and... keep your eyes open, because something fluffy your way comes ;)

#cs role reversal #cs halloweek #cs fanart #cs fic rec #roundup

114 notes · View notes

themockingcrows · 5 years ago

Text

Whisper Just For Me: Ch. 16: Beyond

All good things must come to an end. Sometimes, though, the end is just the beginning. CW: Major character death This chapter is available on AO3!

((The end of the fic! Thank you so much for reading, it’s really meant a lot to me. And I’m so sorry the ending took so long to get out! Between the surgeries, recovery time, mental health and school, things have been hectic to say the least. If you stuck around, you’ve got my love forever. <3 Ryn, over and out.))

By the time the cast came off and you’d started doing physical therapy at home, you felt it was time to try explaining to Dave all the things you had found. Life had returned to normal more or less, with Jade and her research keeping Dave’s returning strength and habits dialed in to where they could be tracked again. Everything was looking positive, and you couldn’t be happier. Your family was whole again, and life was good.

Now to rip the bandaid off, you supposed. Now when it was private and quiet, when Jade wasn’t around and it would just be the two of you.

With Dave zipping around the room rustling papers one day, you decided it was time. If he passed on… well. You had confidence you’d see him again somehow. Your beliefs had expanded over time to well beyond what they were before, and with it came a sense of serenity in things. If you could find Dave again after all that had happened, if fate itself seemed intent on making sure that you could be reunited somehow, then surely it made sense that it would keep going even longer afterwards into the unknown.

You knelt down carefully, still babying your formerly broken leg as it got stronger, and rummaged under your bed for the things you’d brought back from Dave’s Bro. The raglan shirt, the different drawings, the picture of the smuppet, the photograph of Dave on the sofa. With a deep sense of inner peace, you set them all out on the floor and sat back on your ass to look them over when you felt the warmth near your shoulder.

“Do you see all these clearly?” you asked, wanting to be sure.

… Yes …

“...Do you want to touch them?” you asked, offering control of your arms again. “I don’t mind. They’re… they’re yours, after all.”

Did Dave recognize them, or not? He seemed intrigued, if nothing else. He didn’t take control of your arms, but remained near your head and shoulders, hovering and staring intently at the different things as if he were a mongoose staring down a snake. You reached for the picture of him on the couch and smiled.

“You still look this good, I hope you know. Just more red.”

Dave was silent, but he smiled. Okay. He could recognize himself at least. Or he couldn’t and he could take a compliment when he heard one. Sometimes it was a little hard to tell how Dave’s brain worked, but it was generally positive so whatever.

Setting the picture down, you pulled up the image of the smuppet and ran a thumb over the surface of the polaroid as if imagining the texture of the fabric, trying to pretend you could feel it, could smell it. Trying to practically will it into existing in the same room.

“Your uh. ...Your brother said this was one of your favorite toys growing up,” you explained, smile faltering a bit. The warmth went chilly for the briefest of seconds, wavering, before it warmed again. Dave was reaching for the picture with his transparent fingers, imitating the stroking motion you’d done right beforehand.

...I remember…

Okay. That was a start. He remembered and was still there. Good.

You felt a chill in your stomach that made you want to put everything away, suddenly. A deep instinctive urge to hide, to keep things safe, to buckle down and ignore everything around you for a while. To keep Dave safe.

Safe from what? If he moved on… then it was what he was meant to do. He’d be at peace. You’d meet again. And that was all theoretical anyway, stop panicking! Ease up, Egbert, it’s a picture of a smuppet.

You reach for the shirt next and hold it after displaying the pattern on the front, grinning at Dave again despite the growing panic in the back of your chest.

“Your shirt’s kinda dorky, but apparently you liked it a lot? You liked videogames too, and music… I think Jade has some of the songs you used to like to listen to, we’ll have to ask her to play them later.” You’d been avoiding them for some reason since getting Dave back, just letting things go back to how they’d once been instead of adding even more new things into the mix. Too much too fast was bad, you assumed. ...Yet here you were, discussing an entire short life in one go.

...Better than yours…

“Hey, my clothes are great thank you.”

As if to make a point, Dave darted away to the drawers and opened them, tossing out socks and shorts left and right while you protested, before rattling things in the closet and darting back in a red haze like a flash.

“Okay, okay, geeze. Either way, we’ve got this now. Do you want me to set it out somewhere for you? Or.. like. I don’t know, should I wear it when you’re in charge sometime?”

Would it be weird to wear your dead boyfriend’s shirt that he used to wear when he was alive if you never knew him when he was alive to begin with? Something in your head said that was probably kind of weird, but then again you’ve been wrong before so… who knew anymore. Things were complicated when you were dating a ghost.

A lot of societal rules and standards either didn’t apply or needed to be invented on the spot.

Dave did a lazy turn in the air like an otter before rustling the other items like a breeze to catch your attention once more, apparently enthralled by his own work. You picked up the cartoony image with a smirk, having to hold it sideways at an angle to read it properly as if it were some secret code and not the oldest shitpost you’d ever seen in your fucking life.

“You made this, huh? What’s it of? Like, who are these guys?”

...Sweet Bro… Hella Jeff… Geromy…

Instinctively, you’re aware of who each of them probably are, and you’re pleased when a quick verification with Dave proved you were correct on the first shot. It was brilliant really. Strange, surreal, silly, and nonsensical in just the right way to make you wish there was an entire book of these drawings. If Dave had lived, maybe there would have been and that’s the only way you’d have known him: as an adoring fan among many to an older man with a talent for drawing funny cartoons. ...If you could even classify these guys as cartoons.

They kind of defied description in the way a jpeg artifact tended to bounce around on shitty video clips that dropped pixels faster than you could drop yourself down the stairs on roller skates with a running start.

The more realistic art, the sketches, you hesitated on most. Finally, you picked one up and cleared your throat uncomfortably.

“This uh. ...You know who this is, yeah?”

Dave was quiet again, and you had to look over your shoulder to try judging if this was a bad idea or not. He was still, quiet, staring. His face was hard to decipher, mostly because it seemed to be fading in and out from the red mass to the wispy figure you knew and loved.

...Bro…

“Right,” you said, clearing your throat again. It felt like you had heartburn, a cold sweat on your brow and acid roiling in your stomach. “We uhm. Jade and I met him. We talked a lot about things. About you. He’s the one who gave us most of these things. We heard about when you were a baby, and when you were a teen.”

There came the unsteady lump of panic again. Where had the serenity gone? The sense of peace and calm that said this was a good idea earlier? Long gone.

“We also uhm. ...We learned how you died, Dave. Do.. do you remember?”

Stupid question. Dave looked tense, uncertain, and even more wavery than before. Of course he didn’t remember, that was one of the main reasons he was still around, wasn’t it?

“It…”

Were you ready for this? You could feel tears in your eyes. It was now or never.

“It was your heart, Dave. You had a heart problem, and passed away really fast outside. Nobody knew it was coming or that anything was wrong. Your… Your Bro’s sorry. He’s eaten alive about it, wishes he’d never pushed you as hard as he did in the heat. He misses you. He-”

The red light was brilliant to your eyes, bright enough that you needed to shield your vision for a moment with a hand, peeking between your fingers to try finding the source. Dave. It had to be Dave. Where was he? Where was he in this sea of red? The warmth that had been radiating off of him dissipated till it was cool and comforting instead. Soothing as a balm to fevered flesh, soft and gentle as touch.

When the light faded, Dave was standing to your side. Physically standing, not floating, looking solid as anything. His face was pale with a splash of freckles, hair ruffled as if wind had been playing through it, red eyes bright as rubies. He was wearing the same shirt you’d brought out from under the bed, making you double take back to it to make sure it wasn’t in fact the same shirt. Black jeans smoothed down skinny legs with the baggy ends threadbare in the back where his tennis shoes had been scuffing them to Hell and back. His chest wasn’t rising or falling, but he had color to his cheeks, and a smile on his lips.

You scrambled to your feet once you registered what the fuck had happened, or… at least were trying to understand what the fuck was happening.

“Dave? Dave what’s going on. I don’t like this,” you say, before even registering what came out of your mouth. Your skin felt soothed, your body felt light, even the residual ache in your leg was gone. Peace was in the air, but you felt like you were having trouble breathing, leading to the conclusion that you were, in fact, panicking.

This was a panic attack.

“Dave? Say something, Dave, what’s happening.”

You knew what was happening. You reminded him how he died. He knew now. He remembered. He remembered everything, remembered his former life, remembered himself and his world and time. Remembered his Bro.

“...John,” Dave said, his voice just as solid as it felt when he talked inside your head, but the rush of blood in your ears was making it harder to hear over the whooshing. You needed air. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, you didn’t want this.

Except you did. You didn’t want to be selfish and keep Dave in limbo forever. You didn’t want to keep him hidden in your pocket till your own death, leaving him potentially trapped. This was the right thing to do. In your heart of hearts you knew this was the right thing to do.

“John,” he said again. “Thank you. For everything. For every single second,” Dave said to you. He reached out with his too solid hands and clasped yours with both of his, giving them a squeeze. He was cool to the touch, like weather worn fleshy marble. When you didn’t squeeze back, he released your hands in favor of hugging you tight around the middle, nuzzling his face against the side of your neck like a cat seeking somewhere warm to perch and snuggle.

“Why are you thanking me for that?” you asked. Fuck, you were crying. You could feel the snot running down your throat already, the tears stinging your eyes. “I love you, Dave. I only did what I’ve done because I love you.”

“...I love you too, John Egbert” he said, and you knew in your heart of hearts that he meant it.

Finally remembering that you could lift your arms, you clung tight to him, digging your fingers into the fabric of his shirt as if it would anchor him in place and keep him from going anywhere. You hiccuped for breath, head spinning. Too much was happening at once.

“Am I going to see you again?” you asked. “You’d know better than me, right? I will, won’t I?”

“John..” Dave said softly, not answering the question. It wasn’t helping the panic or the sadness ripping your heart in half.

“Tell me!” you demanded. “This isn’t the end, is it? This isn’t happily ever after, I don’t accept it. We’ll be together again, right?”

“Wait for me, John,” he said softly against your ear. The panic died as if it had never been there, so suddenly that your knees tried to give way. Dave held you tight and kept you upright, kept you from falling to the ground. In that brief moment, Dave was the rock and tether that you’d been for so long.

“How long do I have to wait?” you asked, clenching your eyes shut to focus on everything you could while you could. His smell, the way his skin felt under his shirt, the way his hair felt against your neck. Things you had gotten hints of all this time, whispers of, but never anything this solid.

It wasn’t fair.

Why were you able to get everything you wanted right as it was leaving?

“How long,” you croaked again, but Dave either didn’t have an answer or couldn’t answer. Instead, he looked towards the door of your room, watching it open on its own to display the hall to the living room. You could hear music playing distantly, and warmth of a summer that wasn’t there was coming in with the soft afternoon light. “Please. Please tell me. Dave, please, how long…”

“You’ll know,” Dave finally said, giving another hard squeeze around your middle, hesitating leaving. Did he want to stay? Or was it just a residual tug of want? Who would give up their ever after just to stick around in someone’s necklace in an incorporeal state forever?

Nobody. Not even you, not even for Dave, and you knew it even if you hated it.

“When I come for you, I’ll have to whisper so you know it’s me,” he said quietly by your ear again. Only loud enough for you to hear, trying to burn the words into your memory. You’d know his voice when it was softer than when it was louder, it was true. He’d been a ghost so long, that whispery, barely there tone was what you expected every time you woke up or went to sleep.

How were you could to live without that.

“Yeah. I’ll listen for you. I’ll listen for you every day,” you said. You didn’t need to promise. It’d be instinct by now, holding out hope that he’d come back.

When Dave released your middle, he reached his hands up to clasp either side of your face so he could kiss you properly. Your teeth got in the way briefly, clicking together with his smaller straighter ones, but it didn’t deter him in the slightest from deepening the kiss almost immediately. You held your breath to make it last, taking a deep breath when he finally pulled back and took a step away.

“I love you, John.” He said it again as if willing you to remember it. “I always will. Listen for me.”

He turned and walked to the hall, towards the living room. The door suddenly slammed behind him, prompting you to unfreeze from position and rush forwards, yanking it open to the proper season and lighting that was meant to be there again.

No Dave.

Dave was gone.

Your pendant was cool on your neck, the air of peace and nearly Heavenly compassion was in the room. Your house was cleansed and clear of all spirits, and rested empty and lifeless for the first time in decades. Everything was peaceful, except for the storm in your chest. You made your way to bed with the raglan shirt pressed to your chest and cried harder than you thought you ever had in your life. It was the same place Jade found you later. It was the same place you stayed for the better part of a week, grieving what you had.

Love hurt, and life wasn’t fair, but you knew one thing at least: you loved Dave Strider, and you were waiting to hear his voice again. ...You also knew this wasn’t what he would have wanted.

Life would have to go on, even if it felt like it shouldn’t.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Your name was John Egbert.

You had been a leader in the field of parapsychology and the paranormal in general. Along with Jade Harley, you had made many advancements in the field of science along with your own research into spirits and their habits. You had worked together to make devices to track spirits voices, making the inaudible audible to the naked ear, you’d helped come up with ideas to further make the invisible visible.

You lived a good life. The classes at colleges you taught lectures at were always full to the brim with curious people, and the true believers were always excited to shake your hand. It was charming, really. An honor.

Every day your routine had been the same, for decades now. Wake up, hold your pendant, and check for a voice. Always before bed, hold your pendant, check for a voice. There had been no voice, and so many times you’d wanted to give up listening, but you couldn’t help yourself.

New loves had come and gone, nothing staying for very long. You were happy with your life, though. It was a fulfilling life full of good times and smiles and laughter. You hoped Dave could see some of what was happening to you, even if the machinery never picked anything up around you that had the same signature Dave used to have. No red mists, no impish blondes darting around rustling your papers. Just normal poltergeists and spirits stuck in their routines, the rare intelligent haunting that you could help find the light the same way you’d found Dave’s for him.

You didn’t regret freeing him.

...But fuck did you miss him.

Your name was John Egbert not long ago.

You’d gone to bed with an upset stomach and some tingling in your arms, deciding it was a leftover of the flu you’d had recently instead of anything to worry about. Early to bed, early to rise. Jade had a meeting planned in the morning, some new developments were underway to fine tune the audio scanner with some new technology that had recently been invented, something that would halve the size of the current devices and amplify their power by at least twofold. Couldn’t miss that.

You lay down, clasped your pendant, and said Dave’s name like a prayer to ward away the boogeyman.

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray my ghost my soul to keep.

Your chest felt kind of funny when you lay down and it felt harder to breathe, but nothing too dramatic. More flu shenanigans. Something felt.. ...Something felt... strange though.

Your name was John Egbert.

And then it wasn’t.

You were laying still and watching the ceiling before sitting up, feeling ten times better than how you’d lain down earlier.

“...John...”

You froze and looked around.

“Dave?” It had to be, that voice was familiar to you even after all this time.

“...John…”

You got out of bed at a jump and paused, frowning. When had you last been able to do that? It’d been ages. Slowly, you looked back towards the bed where John Egbert lay still as if sleeping.

Your name used to be John Egbert, but you suppose it still is. You’re kind of new to this being dead thing. Were there two John Egbert’s now? The dead one and the more lively dead one? Was the soul still considered the same entity right now? So many questions from your research clouded your mind that your first instinct was to call Jade to discuss it with her, before you felt the touch to your shoulder. Spinning around, startled, you nearly slapped Dave in the face with a flailing arm.

He smirked a bit.

“John.”

“Dave? ...Dave. Dave,” you said, voice breaking briefly before it came out as a croak. Ghosts could cry apparently. You didn’t feel the unpleasant sensation of breathlessness, but you could feel tears on your cheeks before laughing. “You asshole, you made me wait so fucking long.”

“You were busy, thought I’d come back later when you could use a break,” Dave said, reaching up to grasp either side of your face, kissing you before you could think too hard on it.

“Dave I’m. I mean I. But I. ….Oh God, Jade’s going to- Oh. ...Dave, oh my God I’m dead. Dave I died,” you said, staggering through the sudden wash of sorrow as it hit you. There was still so much to do, one life wasn’t enough for everything you had planned. “I never finished writing that piano piece, and Jade’s.. Fuck…”

He held you as you processed things, letting your mind catch up. Letting you calm down. There was nothing but time now, wasn’t there? Or.. wait.

“Am I… am I going to stay here as a ghost?” you asked, worrying. Were you going to be separated again? Was it your turn to exist in flux?

“No. You get to come to the chill place, if you want. It’s pretty sweet. Bro was pretty shocked when he turned up too, but he wasn’t as up on shit as you are.”

“If I want? I get to choose?”

“For a bit. If you’ve got business left, I mean,” Dave said. “Like with Jade. ...Your Dad’s excited to see you again, too.”

“Dad,” you said quietly. You’d been so focused on listening for Dave that you hadn’t even considered how big of a family reunion you were in for when you finally met your maker. Your Nana, your Dad, your aunt and uncle, your grandfather you’d never met. Hell, even Sassacre probably.

“How long do I have?” you ask, giving another look to the John on the bed. He seemed peaceful, relaxed. It’d been quick and painless.

“Long as you need to finish up business,” Dave said. “...Should I amscray while you take care of shit o-”

“Dave, if you disappear now of all times I’m going to figure out how to haunt people and haunt you till you die again.”

“Okay, okay, shit, chill. I was just offerin’.” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets with a smile. “Want some company while you do errands?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

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

Your name is Jade Harley, and man do your joints hurt, but the flowers aren’t going to tend themselves are they.

You heft some of the potting soil into the pot and gently stroke it over the previously exposed roots of the flowering plant as if you were tucking in a baby. Next came the water, a steady shower from above till the soil was damp, and then came the time to heft everything to the other table.

John’s funeral had been a month ago, and while you were still sad… you also knew better than to fret. For one, your research had calmed your thoughts to the beyond years ago already. Matter can neither be created nor destroyed. For another, getting to know more about Dave had been an adventure in your youth that shaped the entire world from scratch.

For yet another, you got a personal goodbye from the John you used to know in your younger years, hand in hand with a pretty young blonde man you knew from a photograph and images on screens from early developed machines of your own creation.

Sometimes, you could swear you still were being watched by the pair of them, but you were too lazy to go find your equipment to double check. What would you even be double checking? If he was having ghost makeouts or something?

You wipe your brow and look over your work with a smile. The funeral home had given some depressing little potted plant, and a sickly looking tree sapling as a memorial. This was better by miles.

“You see, John?” you said aloud to your guardian angel. “Perfect.”

If you were John Egbert, you’d have to agree. It was a handsome plant in a handsome pot, and it would blossom like crazy because Jade was the one who’d tended it.

But you’re not John Egbert.

You are Jade Harley, and John Egbert’s story has ended, arm in arm with the spirit he’d been chasing for so long and finally caught.

#homestuck #johndave #john egbert #dave strider #my fic

5 notes · View notes

ts-2020-olympics · 5 years ago

Text

EPISODE 3 - “Am I Old?” - Sarah

So far Shosha and Yujo haven’t lost any challenges, if we keep winning until the swap i fear that the other tribes will target our people because we’re all still intact. Maybe it would be a good thing to maybe lose one? I dunno

ちくしょう 😉

FUCK the hosts for this how many hours can you put in challenge this early in the game, i'm literally fucking pissed, FUMIN love! i knew we were gonna lose from early on but i still put in the time and hours to distract myself from this bitch ass boy who curved me yesterday night, whatever. i'm just so exhausted like of the constant losing, the tribal council, ugh. i haven't been on a losing tribe like this in SO long. and i'm so.. over it. i can't stand losing and i can't stand that emma is immune right now because deciding who to vote off is going to be impossible and people are going to be coming for me so i'm like, probably most definitely gone or whatever. and that means i'm going to have to do the arena challenge and NOT have a day off which... ugh....... dont get me wrong i know that ORGs are time commitments but usually i win the premerge challenges so THIS IS NEW OKAy kdhfnsdkfndkfndf. i'm just annoyed and i'm so over my tribe... and i didn't find any advantages at the olympic village i finally remembered to search in. anyway i dont even wanna THINK about tribal rn so this is just me saying fuck this challenge and ughhh i'm so TIRED just so fatigued of everything, i'll like come back tmrw and strategize or something. *throws a rock at the cameraman* fuck this shit i'm out, give me the osake RIGHT! GOD DAMN! NOW! (alcohol for all you non duolingo-ers)

i'm kinda happy that bailey was evacuated from the game, she would have been voted out regardless and this gives our tribe better odds at survival. even if we had gone to tribal i would've been comfortable, but now i feel like it's better than i try to prove my value as a player by competing in the arena! kinda excited.

tribal three times in a row check! 😍✨💋 LMAO no one is wanting to actually talk to me about it so i’m hoping that i can still sway the votes in my favor but we’ll see! i think landen would defiantly do his best to help keep me from going, but it’s all a matter of who would we send instead. so! we’ll see! at least i can say i did my best

So, for starters, the past round went pretty much as expected. Kathy was the vote off from my tribe, and she lost at the arena, as well, past round I found nothing yet again at the village. Now, right now in terms of this round, my tribe didn't win immunity, but Bailey ended up getting medically evacuated due to getting three inactivity strikes, so the tribal got cancelled for my tribe, and Beck ended up volunteering to do the arena. So basically, just awaiting to search Olympic Village again, and hoping to goodness there is a tribe swap next round, since right now my tribe is just my alliance with Ben and Beck, which will make things rough come another loss with no swap.

yep worst case scenario happened. My tribe lost with me sitting out and Will, my one main ally, not showing up to the challenge at all!! I was hoping it could be an easy vote so i didn’t have to vote and I could get the advantage but now it seems like my tribe is ready to boot Will and if I want that advantage I need two of those other three to vote against each other! God this is gonna be hard...

I’m in a tough predicament here. I could either A. play it safe, agree with everyone to vote will or B. try to save my ally and my advantage at the same time by getting Sarah and Eve to vote out Nik, risking my whole game. Godddd I don’t know!! aaaagh!

it's 10am, tribal is in 10 hours, and i've had about 10 separate heart attacks throughout the morning. i don't know what to do tonight. i'm really struggling to figure out what's right. my heart says jacob, that's definitely where i'm leaning. juls is my closest ally at this point, and after the whole debacle with Billy, voting him out, then instantly starting to bond with him and all that, and apologizing, and him sticking by me even after I voted him out first, I would feel terrible voting for him again and I want us to prove to eachother we can trust eachother. but the fact he said juls' name.. if that's who he's going to go for, i simply can't prove to him i will vote with him. i'm tight with juls, she saved me even over emma, and i just really feel a bond with her. we're both the youngest in this cast, we both have lots in common, it really do feel like we're the same person at times. at the same time, my head tells me jacob is good in challenges, and will be ok in arena, but that i really don't need a 3rd person upset at me for going to the arena, and if Emma is still coming after me, she could probably use me coming for Jacob to her advantage, but I don't even know where she's voting or what she's thinking. i'm torn about this vote, and it's all the more annoying that if emma just hadn't fucked up at the last challenge, we wouldn't be here without someone to vote right now. we'd all be able to agree on emma or jacob probably, and it would just... it would still suck complete ass, but it wouldn't be as complicated as it is now. with a tribe as tiny as 5 people, going to tribal THREE times, with all the same 5 people.. it's just not something we can afford. our tribe is being torn apart and... whew, i just need the swap. give it to me rn. as of now, i'm thinking i'm going to vote jacob, and i hope i can get billy on board for that and take his mind off juls. that's where my head is at right now... tribal is making me sick to my stomach

What the f does I stan you even mean? Am I old? And I no longer hip and down with the lingo? Bogus, man...

Our first tribal is tonight... I hate to say it, but I'm voting for Will. Nobody has heard from him in days, or for the last challenge, and tonight will be a second strike if he doesn't come back for tribal. WILL I'M SORRY. I definitely would not have voted him otherwise, he did great on the other challenges and is a great personality to have around. Come back for the next season Will..

I am the swing vote again lol Juls got blamed for messing up last vote by Emma and Billy, which considering Juls is beloved by everyone, PERFECT But now since we lost I need to pick a side, Landen and Juls or Emma and Billy. I like Emma, Billy sketches me out. Landen is the perfect meat shield for eternity. He's a bit of a blabbermouth. I watched the tapes of the live tribal, he sold me out unknowingly in front of Billy. How am I supposed to both sides these people now!? I could get sold onto a Landen vote, but that's not being sold, so WELL, who do I screw over. I feel so bad voting out Juls, but that's a reason to vote her out too, gah. GAH. Do I pick a side and lowkey goat, or do I make my control of the tribe forefront (but not evident because everyone hates each other) Time will tell. 1 Hour until tribal, and I have no idea what to do. inb4 voted out

why the FUCK does emma have immunity? she's literally so useless and does nothing in challenges... and the fact she already turned on juls, this quick, over practically nothing? im sick to my stomach, love. i know i said that already, but you know what? I must have the flu, because my nausea is neverending with this tribe and our constant spins at tribal council. as emma once said, we're basically taking turns sending people to the hellish arena. but the twist is so complex because you can't send someone you like there, because there IS always the very real chance that they lose the challenge. going there could be a good risk if you're smart with it, but it could be a risk that puts your entire game in jeopardy and i'm a KNOWN safe player when it comes to game mechanics ^_^ the only risks i take are in emotional labor! speaking of, myself and juls have both been working very hard to keep her safe from billy and emma's focused target on her, but i don't see it happening.. Billy and em seem to be tight now and it seems like they've convinced jacob to take out juls. The really horrible thing about all this, is that if i want to save juls.... i'm likely going to have to vote billy. and that is going to be aching, because i really like the guy, and i was being 100% honest and genuine with him saying i wanted to be on his side, to prove to him i have his trust and that i will be loyal to him and want to work with him til the endgame and be his ally. but if he's going to go against juls and i have to choose between the two of them..... i mean, i can't choose billy. it would be bad. so there's 30 minutes left and i don't have a clear idea of what's happening yet and any choice i make will permanently damage a tight connection that I thought I had heading into the later game. I guess in good news, Sammy, Caeleb, and a new friend, Jordan, ALL messaged me saying good luck at tribal, and talking to me a bit about it, saying they hope I'm safe. Forming those cross tribal bonds could be crucial in surviving the next stage of the game, which, god please, is happening VERY soon... *i bind myself to the cross* Give me strength to get through this, Japan. Onegaishimasu.

So far the game is makin me p sad, I’m super tired of going to tribal and having to send people to arena. And that Japanese challenge was so damn frustrating

so tribal last night.... i mean, uh, i guess my power, huh? lmao........... MESS!!! IM A MESS MY GAME IS A MESS THIS WHOLE DAMN THING IS A MESS. Someone get me a MOP rn because Sonkei-Matsing tribe is STRUGGLING and it's all EMMA'S FAULT!!!!! On the other hand, I'm very grateful Emma is an idiot, because Billy got to be safe!!! So let me explain what happened in that bonkers tribal council, from MY perspective... When I heard that my closest ally Juls had her name coming up, i was like, oh HELL. NO. So I put in the WORK to get Jacob and Billy to vote for eachother. Don't get me wrong, Juls worked hella hard on this too, she is a bad ass bitch and she deserves credit. But I do believe I was a major factor in swaying their votes as well as I'd built pretty close relationships with each of them in terms of strategy. But with Billy, that relationship wasn't a tight trusting one, more of a, please, I like you a lot, let me prove to you that I can be trusted and we can work together. Let us prove that to eachother. But here's how it happened. Even though Jacob and Billy DID vote for eachother... NEITHER OF THEM TOLD ME THEY WERE VOTING FOR EACH-OTHER. BILLY LED ME TO BELIEVE HE WAS VOTING JULS THE WHOLEEEEE TIME. And initially, I was fine with it, and i was STILL going to vote Jacob off with Juls!! Thinking there was nothing I could do and she would go 3-2. But then, 5 minutes into tribal, you'll see me furiously typing... Because Jacob FINALLY told me he was going to vote for Billy (and that's on Whispering!!! #LiveTribal!!) So from my perspective.... Billy and Emma are voting Juls. Juls is voting Jacob. Jacob is voting Billy. It's 2-1-1... and if I vote for Jacob, then Jacob and Juls can't vote, and Billy and Emma have the majority to send Juls out, saving Jacob on the revote. BUT if I vote for Billy, then Billy and Juls can't vote, and now me and Jacob have the majority over Emma. That was the thought process behind my initial vote for Billy. LITTLE DID I KNOW BILLY ACTUALLY WAS VOTING WITH ME AND NOW I FEEL HORRIBLE FOR VOTING FOR HIM AND I JUST WANT TO MAKE IT UP TO HIM BUT HE DIDN'T TEXT ME WHEN HE GOT OFF AND UGH, I NEED TO MAKE THIS RIGHT!!!! Emotional labor is the most annoying thing, and I'm really bad it. I'm terrible at apologizing and owning up to things, maybe that's why I just let my friendships fall apart in real life instead of doing the actual work to save them once a problem happens. because emotional labor is fucking annoying, exhausting, and stressful! I don't got time for it! But now, I need to have time for it, because our tribes are FIVE PEOPLE strong, and at the next tribal council, if I don't get my relationship with Billy in check, I WILL be gone. It is his vote that I need to help make sure Emma's psycho ass goes home, and if he, Jacob, and Emma all think they're on the bottom... Yikes. I hope Billy understands that I was absolutely disgusted it came down to him or Juls and I thought I was doing everything I could to save an ally.. I even swayed Juls to help save him with me, when she felt uncomfortable with him. He totally screwed up by like... not telling me he was voting with me, he said in tribal people just need to be real with where they're voting, and I agree! I wish he had just followed his own advice with me, because he would still be here right now. But his screw up does not at all compare to Emma... what the FUCK was she thinking, self-voting like that...? Like, HELLO? She throws out Juls' name all round, for I don't even know WHAT reason, since they were supposedly close, but it's implied she throws out Juls' name for getting 4 crowns on the challenge... Um, YOU STUPID BITCH YOU LITERALLY ONLY GOT ONE MORE CROWN THAN HER AND BEFORE THAT DID NOTHING ON THE SLIDE PUZZLE CHALLENGE OR THE TRIBE CHANT, DESPITE US KNOWING YOU CAN PUT IN THE TIME WHEN YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT IN THE ARENA :) Headass.... Then, after doing that all round, she SELF-VOTES??? WITH IMMUNITY AROUND HER NECK??? Girl you MUST be crazy, cus this is psychotic. Headass, deadass, she is gone the next time we lose tribal, which, lbr, is probably next time because we're LIT RALLY matsing. at least caeleb thinks i'm denise though. i feel like i have the same amount of wrinkles as her, after the stress of this game like 3 rounds in. imagine how tired i am.

Round 3's over! That's fun, innit? Glad we got rid of some dead weight in Bailey. As for friendships and alliances, I'm still slightly on edge about Darcy - I trust Beck over him. Got acquainted with Karen - they seem nice, but I'll keep an eye on them, too. Other than that, Nicole and Tommy are the people I'm mainly corresponding with. Seems like fun! :) Here's to a fun Round 4!

Okay so we won this round which is fun! Tommy went to the arena which gives me, Karen and Kevin a good chance to bond because Stoner just isn’t paying attention ever. I wonder if he has even made a confessional. Anyway, I’m going to be real annoyed if we lose and he whips out an idol. Also going to be mad if after this round there’s a swap and I’m swapfucked. I don’t think it really COULD happen to me though, because I’ve talked to at least one newbie on each of the tribes. Unless I’m stuck with Nik, Emma and Billy who have no interest in speaking to me, I think I’ll be fine. Speaking of newbies, I find myself talking to Ben a lot but I’m under the impression he talks to a lot of people. He reminds me of a lot of friendly pure men in this community like Joey, just very social and very nice! The only thing is sometimes he will say something in a conversation and I don’t necessarily know where to go with it. For example right now he’s having a full conversation with me in the village chat about pizza. I don’t know what to do with this and rather not be so vocal in the village chat. While the other newbies are increasingly hard to talk to, and sitting around all day waiting for the arena stuff is boring, Ben is a very nice person to talk to but I just wish we would talk like...about the game not what I’m eating. When it comes down to it I want to know I have an ally or two to bring to the end that might offset my immediate threat of being a winner, but not give them so much power that they win over jury votes. He seems to be showing his social side and not giving me any game info at the same time, which I have to look out for. All of the other newbies I’ve spoken to have talked game. He’s either playing a really good game by doing this or a really transparent one, I can’t tell yet. We will have to see!

youtube

Last night proved something that I’ve been wondering about Landen for a while. He truly is a snake. I unintentionally made a really good move in keeping it mysterious on who I was voting. In order to make the vote go his way and to keep Juls, he instead changed the vote to ME and got Jacob to do the same. Sneaky mother fucker 😋 thank god Juls stayed the same though. I know for an absolute fact now that I won’t be able to trust him. As for Jacob, I do hope he comes back, because now that I know where the tribe stands I know I can get him on my side.

I don't know if I ever had such a frustrating round for challenges first duolingo and now the arena I was in the lead in front of everyone until the last clue and I lost it all I didn't get a medal. I'm so pissed, you really don't wanna @ me anytime soon because I'm at the point where I wanna go off on someone.

Love the tribe, so happy we 5-0d the last tribal!! it was a cute moment!! hehe, we seem to be very together as a unit

So Will’s gone, well he’s at the arena but i think he died so he’s probably out for good. Now that he’s out that leaves me on the bottom of my tribe as the next to go, my only hope is getting as close to sarah as I can and crossing my fingers for a swap! Due to that triple tribal I think it’s going to happen next... hopefully!

Ughh i keep forgetting to make confessionals until right before the round ends so im always like oh shit and then dont really know what im gonna talk about so its not good. hows things in the life of jordan pines? great thanks for asking, while i still feel on the bottom of my tirbe i definitly see a swap coming soon which i think depending on how it goes would be pretty good for me. Id ideally like to stay with most of the people ive been with plus new ones, becuse i think im seen as like an expendable numebr to caeleb and Jacob. I want them to keep thinking of me like this while I go out and start forming stronger relationships, keep bringing in those jordan pines minions, i got my sights set on billy right now, i like him but he makes me look as humble as they come and ive i could definitly turn him into a goat for me with the right coaxing. Im hoping will survives the arena cause hes for sure a number for me, but hes also a lil innactive so maybe he peaced. Im starting to build relationships with Landen who I like. I havent even looked at the all winners tribe holy shit. Karen and Stoner are gonna be my biggest obstacles as they dont necesarily love me. Im gonna try to work with Nicole for a bit if i can tbh. Thats really all im feeling right now. I think best cast scenario is people use me as a number and carry me just a little too far that I can turn shit around and fuck em over. It's definitely gonna be an uphill climb to the finish line, but the only way to do it is go step by step.

I feel like I am in a great position on my tribe! I trust Sarah and Eve a lot. Pete says he has my back so we can only hope that in the case of another tribal council, I will be safe! I’m still going to work my ass off and play my ass off to stay safe and not have to go to another tribal! This game is long and hard and I’m trying to see big picture. And within that big picture is a flashing sign that’s telling me there’s a tribe swap soon! Hopefully I’ll be able to work some magic and avoid being on a tribe with individuals that don’t like me. But overall I’m feeling pretty good after the last tribal!

youtube

#zestypowerfuluniqueflavorfulhealthy #confessionals

1 note · View note

dylan-hague · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 2

“You’re a pilot, right?”

Van glanced up from his drink at a girl in a rather drab beige robe cinched tight around her body that covered most of her face. The robe was immaculate, without spot or wrinkle despite the squalor of their surroundings. He couldn’t help cocking a brow; if she was attempting to go unnoticed, she wasn’t doing it very well. She carried herself far too proudly, kept her shoulders too square, held her head too high. But there was a craze behind her eyes, one that spoke desperation, He scratched at his chin for a moment as he looked around the cantina. Nobody seemed to be paying attention. Seemed nobody had noticed her. This sort of hire had a tendency to get him into trouble… but having spent the last of his credits on that fill-up, Van wasn’t exactly in any position to turn her down.

“Uh, yeah.” He smiled. “Van Taris, pilot-for-hire. You got somewhere to be?”

The girl nodded, frantically it seemed to Van’s eyes. “An orbital station, above Bonumaan.”

In the back of his head, Van felt a twinge of excitement spark. Bonumaan was a ways out. That kind of a trip.... that would be the ticket right there. But he wasn’t fool enough to say as much aloud, instead feigning a half-sneer. “Ick… Never liked Bonumaan,” Van replied. “So muggy everywhere you go… least, where I’ve been. Big planet, all that.”

“But you can get me there, yes?”

“Of course, yeah, but uhhh, y’know... not free.” Van pulled his sleeve back and began punching in a few quick calculations on his wrist console. It was a simple little gadget, mainly just used for this exact purpose. “Lemme see… We’re on Natoth, and Bonumaan is about… 2400 parsecs Rimwards... rounding down, anyway, to save you money.” Van winked at the girl. People usually liked that bit. “That’s gonna be a couple days’ travel… maybe we can stop over on Takodana--”

“No! Please, we have to be as fast as possible.”

“Alright, alright! No stops…” Van continued, changing his calculations. “So accounting for fuel cost these days, food and water for the road, plus my extra twenty percent…” A moment of further calculation, then a quiet ping from the console. “That’ll run you 1680 NRC.”

“Can you take Imperial?”

Van frowned. “Sorry, I… people still do Imperial? That was… that was kinda before my time. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright, nevermind…” The girl dipped a hand into her robe and pulled out a stack of 500-NRC chips. Four, to be exact. Van licked his lips; that was a big fat tip.

“Now, I can’t make exact change, you gotta understand…”

“It’s fine,” the girl urged. “Just… please. I have to hurry.”

Van nodded, turning back and draining the rest of his drink. It was an effort to hide his excitement. 2000 credits… back in the day, that would have been enough for a pretty decent used speeder bike. Nowadays… well, Van would put it to good use. Maybe get the Bird shopped up, see if he couldn’t improve her fuel-rate so that his current situation didn’t happen again. Between the creds, and his tank filled up now… Van liked his odds of making it home.

“Alrighty, you got yourself a pilot. If you’ll follow m-ohhh…” The pilot shook his head as he stood up from his stool. He never drank anything too strong, but perhaps that had been a bit of a chug. He cleared his throat and got his feet back under him. “Okay, okay. Follow me, Bluebird’s this way!”

Van led the girl on a quick jaunt out of the bar and across town, in the chilly Natoth air. This particular hemisphere was hitting the middle of winter, and things on this system got particularly cold, cold enough to build up ice on the windows of any structure without proper heating. He liked Natoth well enough, but he didn’t have the blood for it. He blamed Naboo for that one.

Rinng met him outside his ship, covered in grease. Van produced his last 5-credit chip and dropped it into the mechanic’s hand. He would have tipped more, but he was going to need every credit of that 2000.

“Hey, hold on before you take off,” Rinng called after the pair. Van turned curiously back to the tendril-headed fellow. “I noticed a bit of buildup around the base of your cannon, so I went ahead and cleaned it off for ya.”

“Oh, thanks man! You really didn’t have to do that.”

The Nautolan waved the comment aside. “I’d go ahead and fire up the bioshields, get started warming those windscreens up. You know how bad the ice gets these days.”

“Thanks again, Rinng. See ya soon.” Van offered a sloppy salute as he opened the Bluebird’s hatch and led his passenger inside. As he eased himself back into his seat at the helm, he heard the klik-ssssssssssssss of the station’s fuel line disconnecting. As he began firing up the ship, the fuel tank showed at full capacity. While that was always a good sight, Van still couldn’t shake an odd feeling about this gig. Last time he was on Natoth, he picked up a shady character… admittedly he’d been more obviously sketch than this lady, but he’d picked him up in the Cantina just like her. Cheap scum didn’t even leave a tip, and Van was pretty sure he saw the creep try to swipe his blaster on the way out the door. All said creep got away with was a holster… which Van had to replace, since the creep apparently just up and disappeared a day after he left the Bird and couldn’t be hunted down. Either way, this gig still seemed on the verge of being sketchy, but these days… again, 2000 is 2000.

Van grinned as the engines roared to life, and the Bluebird began to lift up out of the station. He quickly pulled up his astrogation chart, plotting a course for Bonumaan, past Takodana--avoiding open space, for Rinng’s sake--as the ship lifted itself up through the atmosphere.

“So!” Van called, turning to see the girl strapping herself in. Nearly swallowing his words, the pilot hurriedly secured his own safety belt as well. “Once we make the jump, that’ll put us just past Takodana, at which point we’ll swing around the planet and make a second jump to hit Bonumaan. Normally I’d just shoot straight there, but I’ve heard about some, uhh… well, some unsavory activity goin’ on right in that sector. Do hope you don’t mind.”

“What sort of unsavory activity?”

“Fighter Jockies,” Van replied with just a hint of a sneer. “Pirates. Like to blast apart good honest travelers, then pick at whatever’s left of their ships like animals.”

“Sounds like you’ve encountered them before.”

“I have,” Van said grimly. “I was lucky I’d just hooked my cannon controls up to the helm, because I didn’t have a gunner with me. If I hadn’t sprung for the upgrade, they prob’ly woulda blown me right outta lightspeed, scattered what was left of me across the whole parsec.”

“How would they fire on you at lightspeed? No weapon can fire that quickly.”

“Not a cannon. Some of ‘em have these big ol’ blades strapped to the flanks of their fighters. So long as they can swing in beside you, they’ll carve your ship wide open.”

“That’s horrid!”

“You’re absolutely right,” said Van, “which is why it’s such skiff that the Senate can’t decide on what to do about it.” He paused for a moment. “Uhh, pardon my language.”

“It’s fine.”

Van turned back to the helm. “Anyway, I’m gonna take us around the other end of Tako just to be on the safe side, alright? If it helps, I can offer you back 20 credits.”

“Don’t worry about the money, I just need to get to that station soon…”

“Don’t suppose you have any reasons for the express treatment you’d like to share?”

The girl frowned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say.”

Van held up a hand. “Totally cool, pretend I didn’t even ask.”

They had just passed into the void of space, pinpoints of starlight shining through the blackness stretched out forever before them. Van wrapped his fingers around the warp switch and turned back to his passenger. The girl pushed back into her seat and offered a single nod of confirmation. The pilot whipped back forward and slowly pushed the switch forward. The stars stretched and shone brighter and brighter, until the blackness of space gave way to a swirling vortex of shimmering blue hyperspace.

“Beenine. Stabilize, please.”

“Of course, love,” came a voice from overhead.

The girl jumped. “What was that?”

“Oh, that’s Beenine. She useta be a droid, but then we got into a scuffle with an ex-Imp cell. One of ‘em had one of those riot batons, Beenine took a hit. Lucky me, I was flying into Nar Shaddaa at the time, so I swung by a chop shop, got her patched up as best I could. Beenine, say hi!”

Van pointed up over the console, where built into the ship itself was installed the round head of a protocol droid. The girl let out a little gasp as the droid’s illuminated eyes.

“Nice to meet you, love. Designation B9-V at your service. Welcome to Taris Travels, ready to do all we can to make your travels as smooth and swift as possible.”

The girl blinked profusely for a moment, but she nodded. “Pl-uhh, pleasure to meet you.”

After a moment longer, the Bluebird’s pressure-stabilizers kicked in, alleviating the force pressing the ship’s occupants into their seats. Van heaved himself up from his chair and stretched. “So!” he started, “lemme show you where everything is. Don’t worry, she’s a real small ship… sure you noticed on the way in.”

The tour was brief. Van had two sleeping quarters on opposite ends of the Bluebird, one for himself and one for his passenger, or two for his passengers if he was flying for more than one. The pilot’s seat was a perfectly fine napping spot… usually. Foodstores and a very, very rudimentary kitchen took up most of the lower deck, and the rest of the ship was either working parts or storage. Van made a point to keep things cozy. Sure, it was a source of occasional complaints, but what did it matter? This ship wasn’t a home to anyone but Van, and Van liked things the way he had them.

“I believe I’ll retire for a bit, if it’s all the same to you,” said the girl. “Forgive me, but it’s been…”

“Hey, I get it,” said Van. “That’s what the beds are for. Take a load off. I’ll be up here keepin’ an eye on things.”

The girl bowed, and disappeared into the hallway. Van turned back to the swirling hyperspace before him.

Beenine’s head swiveled down to look at her pilot. “So what do we know about her?” her voice came from a smaller speaker on the console now, rather than the overhead speakers.

“Not a thing,” Van replied. “Picked her up in Sen-Trill.”

“Sen-tr--” Beenine sighed, an exaggerated sort of sound. “Captain, we’ve discussed this, nothing good comes out of Sen-Trill.”

“Well that doesn’t change the fact that we’re out of work,” Van shot back. “She gave us 2000 creds, we can’t afford to turn that kind of money down!”

“Is this about Life Day?” Beenine groaned. “We’ve had this conversation a thousand times! Just Comm your mother, she can take care of it!”

“And I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m not doing that! I’m a grown man, I don’t need a handout from my mother.”

“Your credit account says differently.”

“Bee! We literally just got 2000!”

“And before that, you had six.”

“Oh, shut up and plot us a course!”

Both pilot and droid let out exasperated half-shouts as they went back to their respective duties. Van would never think about wiping Beenine’s memory, but times like this she just tested his patience so much…

Just keep flying, Van thought to himself as he gazed out the windscreen. His eyelids grew heavy, and he felt weariness settling on his shoulders like a great weight. Everything will work out fine if… if you just keep… keep... flying...

#star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #star wars #star wars: flyboy #lucasfilm

2 notes · View notes

littlemonstersau-blog · 5 years ago

Text

The Feels Awaken, Part 3: A New Hope (for Friendship)

Written by @jkl-fff, illustrated by me

PART I - PART II [Interlude] - PART III - PART IV [Interlude] - PART V [FINAL] (you are here)

——————————————————————————————–

A new day dawned then waxed then began to wane, but Ford and Bill hardly noticed. A manic, obsessive energy (plus an unhealthy amount of coffee and sugar) kept them focused throughout their self-appointed task. Such is often the case for the kind of people who feel the need to write to right a wrong in the world. Not all heroes wear capes, after all; some wear turtlenecks and trenchcoats, some wear paper-based clones of teenage boys produced through unholy abominations of SCIENCE!.

… For that matter, not all heroes are particularly heroic; some are morally ambiguous straddlers of the line between antihero and antivillain, some are demonic chaos gods who (quite frankly) still wonder how in the 79 Hells they found themselves in this position.

In the end, though it did take more than the one night, they still finished in just over 16 hours. The plot outline came in at just over 18 pages, which they tidily stacked together on the table and declared to be more than adequate … before passing out on the carpet. Facefirst.

When Bill next regained consciousness, he was in his attic bed and morning light was streaming through the window. His mouth tasted like an abandoned prison for criminally insane chalk and his head felt like the internal turmoil of a buzzsaw having an existential crisis. It was a pain that was anything but hilarious; it was the sugared caffeine hangover equivalent of nuclear fallout … Mouthwash fixed the first problem. The second took an adult dosage of aspirin, a lot of water, and deliberate manipulation of many of the clonesuit’s normally automatic processes for a full eight minutes. And even then, not completely.

“Guess I can’t pilot one of these things through 36+ hours of no sleep on a gallon of coffee … Not if I wanna be able to still maneuver it the next day without crashing every ten feet into a wall or the floor, at least,” he grumbled to himself. “Major design flaw … Can’t believe they got evolutionarily approved for mass production with such weak durability …”

Downstairs in the kitchen, Stan greeted him jovially enough. “Stancakes are up, and so are you, it seems. How you feelin’ today?”

“Honestly, confused,” Bill graveled, his clonesuit throat still raw. “I can get longterm possession of a meatbag leading to me—y’know, the real me—developing emotions and physical cravings and other … gross, brain-mush junk like that. Neurochemistry is basically just an addictive habit, like how people respond to hearing the question ‘What is love?’—”

“Baby, don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me no more,” Stan mumbled automatically.

“Exactly. But what I don’t get is why the real me is also feeling this coffee and sugar hangover. No joke: I tried leaving my clonesuit to get away from it, but it followed me. How is that fair? And, yeah, existence isn’t fair,” Bill interjected before Stan automatically could. “But still …”

Like the benevolent and experienced sage he was (more or less), Stan chuckled to himself. Then, laying a companionable arm around Bill’s shoulders, he leaned in and whispered the truth as grimly as Death itself, “You can outrun your sins, but you can never outrun a hangover.”

“W-wha?”

“Some say if you never stop drinkin’, it’ll never catch up with you. But they are fools. Sooner or later, all things must sleep—sooner or later, all who drink must suffer.”

“Uh … K-kinda freakin’ me out here.” Bill tried to lean away, but Stan’s hold was inescapable. “And, just sayin’, I’m kinda responsible for making most of the 79 Hells as freaky as they are.”

“Heed my warning, child.”

“I’m heeding! I’m heeding! Elder Gods, Stan, the only one who’s supposed to give people nightmares around here is me …”

Straightening up, Stan went back to the stove to continue what passed for cooking with him. “Once you’re done eatin’, by the way, I gotta plate for you to take down to Ford. He prob’ly needs some food and water more ‘n you do.”

Between mouthfuls of food, Bill said, “Yeah, sure … You seen what we wrote, by the way?”

“Yeah. It’s not bad at all. I’d def’nitely go see movies like that. Might even pay my own money for it, too. Heh … Even Soos admitted the storylines are better. Haven’t seen him that downcast ‘bout anything in a while, either. Looked as painful for him as cutting out his own kidney. Might have to do something nice for him soon just to make up for it,” Stan added to himself.

“Huh … Yeah, maybe …” Bill chewed on his breakfast, almost starting to maybe feel guilty. Then, when he finished, he put his dishes in the sink, picked up what was meant for Ford, and took it down to the lab.

Ford, as usual, was at his desk. He was hunched over with a pen, which was also fairly usual. However, and this was very unusual, all his notes and Journals had been pushed into a corner—neatly stacked, but well out of the way. Close to hand, as if for quick reference, was actually their Cosmos Conflicts storyline.

Bill cleared his throat. “Brought some breakfast for ya from Stan.” He set it on the desk, but away from any of the papers (just in case). “How you feeling? I woke up with a caffeine hangover I couldn’t escape even when I left my body. Er, clonsuit. Whatever. Same dif.”

“… I didn’t really sleep very deeply,” Ford eventually replied, his voice as hoarse as Bill’s. “Ergo, I can’t really say I woke up with such a hangover, but I’m suffering one all the same.”

“Yeesh, that sucks. Taken anything? Had some water and some food? That helped me.”

“Some water and aspirin, yes, though I’m not sure I could keep much food down … I suppose I ought to try, anyway.”

“If you feel more rotten than a two-week-old apple core, why are you working?” Bill asked, sliding the plate closer.

“I’m not really working, per se,” Ford answered guiltily. “Just … sketching. Some stuff. For what we came up with.”

Bill’s eyes lit up with interest. “Ooo! Really? Can I see? Please?”

For a moment, Ford’s jaw worked. As though trying to control himself.

“It’s okay,” Bill said hurriedly, though unable to fully contain his disappointment. “I get it. I’ll leave you al—”

A couple pages’ worth of images (some rough sketches, some little more than absent doodles, and some rather intricate and detailed) were thrust at the Demon. “Here. Can’t see any harm in you looking at them, anyway, so …” Ford mumbled. Without looking up, he cut in to his food. “Was just doing this since I’m too awake and restless to just not do anything, but too … wooly in the head, I suppose you could say, to do any productive work.”

Bill poured over them, delighting in the imaginative whimsy of them. Most were of characters from the prequels, though with distinctive touches—touches reflecting their own collaboration (such as Otherkin in a stained pilot’s attire, Imdolledupa aiming ruthlessly with a blaster, and Jelived Knights wearing a different style of clothing from Jelived Sentinels or Jelived Healers). But some were very different, especially among the doodles. “Ha! You made a Soos Wookie!”

Ford couldn’t resist smiling. “Soosbacca. Co-pilot to Stan Solo.”

“In their spaceship, the Mystery Falcon, right? Is Melody a Wookie, too?”

“Huh … That’s not a bad idea, actually. I was having a hard time seeing how to fit her in, since she isn’t really the Princess Leia type.”

“But Mabel and—pff!—Dipper are?” Bill snorted, pointing to where they were both sketched with the iconic braids wrapping around their ears. “Both of them together?”

“Well, they’re also both Luke, since I couldn’t really pick who fit which roll better.”

“Two sets of the twins running around, huh?” Bill murmured, though he was really thinking about two Dippers (and they weren’t running around, either—they were very much not running). “… And Wendy’s Lando, I see. Am I Yoda, since I’m the most triangular or everybody, and the right size?”

“Uh …” Ford hesitated.

“Pff, it’s alright, I can already see 3PO and R2 are both me.”

Lamely, the Weirdologist explained, “Because you’re shiny. That’s the extent of the logic.”

“You gonna do any more sketches?”

“Assuming I can keep breakfast down, probably,” Ford said around a mouthful. “It’s … distracting. And fun. And relaxing, too. Helps to pass the time on a down day like this.”

“Um … M-mind if I stay and watch? Please?” Bill almost begged. “Y’know how much I love watching you meatbags make art.”

“… Oh, fine,” Ford relented. Because what was the harm in being nice to the Demon? Ford didn’t have to trust him for that. “Just don’t make any noise. My head aches enough as it is.”

Bill mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key before pulling up a chair and settling himself comfortably beside Ford. The only time he broke his silence after that was to ask Ford if he wanted more water, and to assert that the others would get a kick out of seeing these sketches (“especially Soos … the Twins, too, though we’d have to text ‘em a photo of ‘em, or mail the whole project to ‘em to see …”).

All in all, it turned out to be a rather nice day for both of them together.

#little monsters au #the feels awaken #bipper #stanford #bill cipher #writing #fanfiction #please excuse the dopey ass looking star wars sketches #also omfg this is finished finallyyyy #submission

12 notes · View notes

bionicdragonguardian1 · 5 years ago

Text

Recluse Vampire Izuku

Inspired by @25coriandah‘s little bit of art (which does actually happen in this part, yay!!) where Izu finds Wolf Pup Kacchan and has no clue how Werewolves work, and every book is wrong.

If you think I’m making Supernatural references

One; I almost definitely am

Two; I am very aware of it

Three; I’m not only drawing from SPN for both Izuku/Kacchan when it comes to their weaknesses/strengths/powers/etc

Four; remember that one plot line that ended up making all of us SOB because someone we loved died? Yeah, remember that. I shamelessly hint at it for a future part.

If you think I’m mischaracterizing anyone please tell me

But I can tell you I’m plugging some headcanons and such in here

@thepinkjinx, here ya go!!

If anyone else wants to end up on a notif list, lemme know

Part Two

Izuku took off back to his home, pushing the unlocked door open with his back, then nudging it closed with his foot. Gently placing the blonde on his couch.

Izuku felt his fangs dig into his lower lip. Drawing some of his own barely flowing blood to the surface. Hissing at the jolt of pain he licked his lower lip, to speed up the healing.

What was he thinking?! He couldn’t care for someone, much less a child! And that completely ignored the fact that he was a werewolf. Smooth Izuku, smooth.

The blonde boy groaned, curling in on himself, the blood-red eyes found Izuku’s green ones. Distrust clear in them, along with confusion as to where he was.

“Hey…” Izuku tried, edging closer to the young wolf. He was about three feet away when there was a distinct, and quite loud actually, growl coming from him. Izuku didn’t push it.

The growl only went away when Izuku took two steps back.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Izuku told the boy. “I found you in my woods.”

Red eyes looked thoroughly unconvinced, glaring at Izuku as he sat up, tail coming free and curling up behind him. Showing that he was on alert.

“My name’s Izuku Midoriya, what’s yours?”

No response.

“Do you understand me?” Izuku tried, slower.

The blonde was looking at him intently, frowning then slowly nodded.

Izuku supposed it made sense, the boy- wolf, whatever- was young. Maybe werewolves weren’t well versed in human speech at such a young age?

“I’m Izuku, you?” Izuku asked.

The blonde’s lips turned into a scowl. “Speak louder, Deku, I’m Katsuki.”

Izuku didn’t think he was speaking that quietly, but again, reclusiveness for over 110 years had probably messed with that. Especially he was living in the middle of nowhere.

“My name’s Izuku!” he spoke louder, not only because the blonde had told him to, but because he was offended. “That’s not nice Katc-Kact-Kac-” he stumbled, trying to pronounce the blonde’s name the way the boy had.

“See, Deku.” the boy grouched.

“Kacchan, that’s rude.” Izuku reprimanded seeing the boy looked stunned by the nickname. Looking ready to argue. “You call me Deku, I call you Kacchan.”

Izuku had his pride and would never admit to the blonde he simply couldn’t pronounce his name.

The blonde glowered but accepted it begrudgingly.

“Will you follow me to my library?” Izuku asked, increasing his volume almost immediately when Kacchan’s face went from pouty to angry, which appeased him easily.

Kacchan sent him an unamused look. “You smell wrong.”

Izuku sighed. “I’m a vampire,” he sat down in the armchair beside the corner of the couch Kacchan was occupying. “See?” he said with a smile before pulling his upper lip to show off his fanged canines.

Kacchan looked scared now.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Izuku spoke quickly but realized that Kacchan didn’t understand him when he looked ready to bolt. “I. Won’t. Hurt. You.” Izuku spoke strongly with total conviction. “I promise.”

The blonde’s tail was up on end, which Izuku hadn’t realized had gone down until it was back up. But his teeth weren’t bared and his posture seemed to relax.

“You’re a skittish little wolf.” Izuku commented.

Kacchan’s squinty gaze went to confused. “You know what I am?”

Izuku moved his hands in so-so motion. “I know what you are, only.”

Kacchan looked at him intently. “I’m not little. I’m five.” he held up his hand, and Izuku only then realized that all of Kacchan’s nails were, in fact, black claws.

Izuku smiled softly. “Well, I’m…” he paused to do the math, which was hard because Izuku wasn’t entirely sure what year it was. “About… seven-hundred, so you’re little.”

Kacchan looked both stunned and offended at Izuku’s age.

“Can we go to my library now?” Izuku asked again.

Kacchan nodded slowly, standing up and walking beside Izuku as they headed down his halls.

Izuku saw that the boy’s tail was more relaxed than it was at first but still stiff, showing that Kacchan was still on alert.

They went to the end of the hall and Izuku opened the double doors to his library.

Izuku saw Kacchan’s eyes go wide in surprise, his mouth falling open. “You stay here,” he put the boy at one of the tables in his massive library. “I need to find my books.”

He didn’t run, running tended to wreck the rugs. He’d learned that a long time ago. Though he did move quickly.

Thankfully his personal organization system was something he was well acquainted with and made the Dewey Decimal System look easy.

He didn’t have a ton of books on Werewolves, he realized as he grabbed the four books off the shelf, so he made a quick stop at his generalized Supernatural Creature books, which he had three more of, before heading back to Kacchan.

He found the boy had largely stayed put, just moving away from the table to the floor between a few of the smaller shelves.

He set his books on the table and grabbed the first one he had.

Monsters of the Moon: Werewolves By: Trystan Greytooth

He could start here, he supposed, getting to the table of contents. Chapter 6: Weaknesses

Well, that was rather straightforward. He should know what to have the boy avoid.

He saw him grabbing something off one of the shelves but didn’t think much of it. He frowned. “Huh, according to Trystan Greytooth you’re very allergic to Silver.” which he already knew, but that meant he was going to need to get all knew forks, knives, and spoons since his were-

He flinched at the rather loud chomp and the sound of metal bending.

He looked over to Kacchan and realized that Kacchan had grabbed some of Tenya’s original Silverware, 100% silver, and completely unique to Izuku.

That sound of metal bending was Katsuki chomping on them, bending them out of shape.

While part of Izuku was screaming, he was more resigned. “Apparently not.” he muttered. Which raised so many more questions because that was something even he had been told over the centuries.

0 for 1. Uh oh.

He continued to the next one.

“You’re apparently…” Izuku looked critically at the blonde boy. “Well, that’s definitely wrong” he chuckled. Heading over to Kacchan and taking the two undamaged spoons away, and trying to get him to take one of the others out of his mouth.

The wolf pouted but seemed little more okay with it when Izuku sat on the floor next to him. “You definitely don’t look like a wolf that walks on two legs.” Then he looked to the blonde. “Is this what you look like all the time?”

Kacchan shook his head slowly. “Look like a wolf when I want, but look different on Full Moon.”

Izuku sighed. 0-2. Not promising.

He continued reading. Actually, Kacchan just confirmed the next five were wrong!

“Leave my spoons alone.” he told him sternly as he stood up and grabbed a different book.

He opened it and immediately realized it was wrong.

“Werewolves only way to create more is scratch a human during a Full Moon.” he read, then looked to the boy. “Kacchan,” the boy perked up. “is your mama like you?”

Kacchan gave a small nod, and Izuku knew instantly that this was not something he should ever bring up again.

0-3, go Kacchan.

He switched over to one of his more broad-topic books.

Chapter 21: Werewolves

Izuku barely needed to skim the first page to realize that this one was also wrong.

0-4, this is not going to go well.

Creatures of the Dark: Mary Shelley

Izuku paused. The same woman who wrote Frankenstein? He must’ve put one of her books in the wrong section. He opened it, finding that a note from Ochako in it, and Mary Shelley’s signature in it. He frowned, he didn’t quite remember reading this, so he would have to read it and reshelve it.

Zero for five, on account of my own shelving mistake.

Kacchan came back to the chair beside Izuku. “Wrong?” he asked.

Izuku sighed and nodded.

“You tell me ‘bout you, and I tell you what I know.” Kacchan offered.

Izuku wanted to hit himself with the dictionary sized book he held in his hands.

“How much do you know, Kacchan?” he asked the boy curiously.

Kacchan shrugged. “Some, not lots, sorry.”

Izuku slowly reached out to pet the boy’s spiky blonde hair, which was far softer than it appeared, and he was apparently okay with it. “It’s okay, you tell me what you know, and we can go from there.”

Kacchan nodded happily.

Izuku set the book in his hand aside but made a note of the title. Essentials of the Supernatural: Leonard Ganem. Then he pulled out his own notebook to take notes on what Kacchan told him.

“You can turn into a Wolf?” Izuku remembered him saying that.

Kacchan nodded. “Anytime I want.” Izuku nodded but watched as Kacchan frowned before pulling out the book by Tristan Greytooth. “Only look kinda like this on Full Moons.”

Izuku took note and made a sloppy and quick sketch.

“It makes me dangerous.” Kacchan mumbled.

Izuku paused his pencil just over the page. “What?”

“I… don’t remember… I’m always angry on the Full Moon.” Kacchan elaborated in the most unhelpful way.

“And that makes you dangerous?” Izuku prodded.

“I hurt anyone that’s not a Wolf.” Kacchan said stiffly.

Izuku barely kept himself from either grinding his teeth, letting his jaw hit the floor, or baring his fangs at the boy. “You can’t control it?” he asked instead.

Kacchan curled up in a ball and nodded. “Mama was mad, said we go huntin’...”

Izuku's stomach rolled. “When was that?”

Kacchan’s red eyes were zeroed in on the table. “Yesterday.”

Izuku really wanted to throw-up, a mother had left her five-year-old son alone in the woods to die, and he would’ve if Izuku hadn’t found him. It was only then that he remembered that the Full Moon was three nights ago.

“Are you hungry?” he asked the boy.

Slowly Kacchan looked at him, confused, but nodded.

Izuku gave him a bright smile. “Let’s head into town, you can eat there, and I’ll buy food for you.”

Kacchan frowned. “You have money for that?”

Izuku’s heart clenched. “Yeah, I do, don’t worry about it.”

Kacchan clearly didn’t quite believe him, but accepted it. “You don’t eat?” he asked, changing the topic.

Izuku shrugged. “It doesn’t make me sick, but it doesn’t help. I need to drink blood once a week, animals.” he clarified when he saw the boy worry.

Katsuki hopped off the chair, clearly ready to head into town.

“Hang on, Kacchan, I need to change.” Izuku told the boy as they went through the double doors.

Kacchan frowned. “Why?”

Izuku sighed. “The sun hurts my eyes, and a long time in it can burn me.”

Katsuki sighed, looking to Izuku expectantly.

“Oh, you can go back to the living room, I’ll be there soon.” Izuku told the boy.

He seemed skeptical, which now that Izuku knew his mom had abandoned him, made sense, but Izuku was sticking to it. Eventually, he huffed and turned to head back to the living room.

#bnha #mha #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #deku #kacchan #vampire!izuku #werewolf!katsuki #vamp!deku #werewolf!kacchan #recluse Izuku #age change #inspired by art

1 note · View note

kariachi · 6 years ago

Text

For a moment I wondered why Kevin’s sections are always longer than Argit’s in this au, then I remembered that Argit’s generally have fewer people involved and less going on...

Chapter 6, now with fashion and family time.

They were a few months out from the big day and Argit was done. The constant back and forth that came with trying to plan a wedding he’d love without actually involving him in the planning, he could handle. The feeling like he was arguing with a stranger third-hand and from the other side of the galaxy, he could handle. But when his father had sent someone in to get his measurements so new clothes could be made?

As someone who’d been making his own for what felt like forever he was just not having it.

He’d finally taken control of the situation- dumping the bureaucratic work on his father’s desk with no fanfare, foisting the final stages of wedding planning onto Psyphon, cutting his siblings’ snickers down by assigning them the most menial work he could think of at the time- and given himself a job he actually enjoyed. Ever since he’d hardly left his rooms, locked away with all the fabric, sewing supplies, and inspiring pieces he could dream of. It was relaxing work, the most troubling bit was deciding what pattern to go for in the deep greys and purples he’d settled on, and was mostly working to keep his mind off just how fast time was going.

The more time he spent considering it the more nervous he got, the more he ate, the more grateful he was that he’d already adjusted his patterns to a few sizes larger than normal.

It was becoming more and more clear with time that he had no idea what he was doing or what to expect. Not only that, but that none of the people he’d have felt comfortable discussing this with had any idea either. He was going to be the first one married and the only person he knew who’d had truly serious relationships was his father, who wasn’t an option for obvious, ‘I have five kids by four women who skipped out’-shaped reasons. He didn’t know how to have a relationship, how to get to know someone, what was expected of him in a marriage. As time had gone on he’d found himself spending more and more of his free time looking up everything from Osmosians to humans to marriage advice to housing because apparently setting up a house together was a thing you were supposed to do maybe? Sorta? Kinda?

Anymore if he wasn’t working on his clothes (and his father’s clothes, and his siblings’ clothes, and Psyphon’s clothes-) he was probably on the ethernet going cross-eyed with his researching. Generally accompanied by at least one pie.

Pupating came with a lot of changes, mental and physical, ones that couldn’t be properly predicted for hybrids. There was endless variance there. Which meant not only that they hadn’t been able to do any planning involving Kevin’s looks before he broke free, but that as soon as he’d adjusted enough to the new body to stand and speak his family had converged on him like vultures on a dead buffalo.

“Dress or pants?”

“Whichever’s cool.”

“…we’ll get both made, you can choose on the day.”

Kevin was only really half paying attention to everything. There was a full-length mirror right there and while he wasn’t a vain man between dysphoria and oncoming maturity his adolescent mimicry had felt wrongwrongwrong. Not that things were perfect now by a long shot, but people kept having to drag him back into position as he twisted and turned to admire things like his mane and finally flat chest.

“Straight and relaxed, gyadin,” his gran said with a sharp tug on his mane and he immediately complied, drawing snickers from the rest of his little entourage.

“Yes, memu.” He felt as much as heard the pleased rumble she made as she returned to measuring the base of his tail.

“You know, if we can get this measuring done in time to make you clothes, you’re going to look wonderful. Just like your father.”

“He looks more like you,” his mother countered, fiddling with his hair same as she had been the last fifteen minutes, “Devin was narrower across, pretty much everything really.”

“He’s got Dad’s colors though,” Cody said. He’d been going through a thick pile of fabric swatches for the entire time he’d been there, occasionally whistling for the opinion of Vivi, sat on the floor across from him. Near as Kevin could tell she was trying to figure out some beadwork designs combining the maternal heritages she was part of and the paternal she hardly knew, and Cody was helping her as much as she was him. Finally, he held up swatches of rich blue and golden-yellow that stood in bold contrast to Kevin’s dark adult scales. “What do you think?”

“Gorgeous,” Kevin’s mother said before he could open his mouth. His grandmother got to her feet and smiled brightly down at the selection from over his shoulder.

“And fitting,” she said, turning her smile between him and Cody, “they’re a good enough match for some of your enku’s pack’s traditional colors.”

“So,” Kevin cut in, “I take it I don’t get a say in colors anymore?”

“No.”

“Some advice, little brother,” Cody said, smiling in bemusement, “just roll with it until you’re married, then blame everything on your husband. They can’t pull rank there.” Both older women gave him a critical look.

“Kafan, remind me to talk to Regina about double-checking with Mala?”

“Gladly.” Huffing, the old Osmosian turned Kevin to face her, looking him over. “Do you want some real married advice?” For a split second he wanted to say no, he was fine, but then remembered that he was going to be married in two months and had to lock his knees to stay up straight. Fuck, yeah, he had no idea what he was doing, why had he not got this worrying done sooner?

“That’d be nice, yeah.” Her expression softened back to a smile and she gave him a quick kiss.

“When he’s a dumbass,” she said, “and trust me he will be, all men are-”

“Memu.”

“As your brother proves, giving out his tactics in public.” Again Vivi was snickering. “When he’s a dumbass, give him the benefit of the doubt. There’s plenty of times he’ll do something that upsets you without realizing.”

“Just don’t let him get away with it too much,” Cody added. “He gets three chances for every bullshit thing you correct him on and if he fails you tell us, we’ll bring you and whatever you want right back home.” Kevin chuckled.

“Including the house?” Setting down her designs, Vivi rolled her eyes.

“Kevin, even Sid would dig up a house and move it across the galaxy for you, if just to spite anyone who hurt you. Anyway,” she then said, bringing her attention back to the sketches, “my advice? Don’t be afraid to walk away from a fight and come back later when you’re calmer.”

“Also,” Cody said, “just, be nice. Compliments, gratitude, being respectful.” He gave a bit of a wistful sigh. “The easier and more pleasant you two make things for each other, the happier your home will be and the sooner things will start really working for you.” Kevin nodded along, soaking in the information. Vivi was a wildcard, but Cody was over ten years wed and their grandparents had been married longer than the US had been a country, and he trusted all of them.

“Good advice, all around,” his mother finally said, “but I’ve got more important.” Gently she turned him 180 degrees to face her. “Learn from my mistakes and communicate. Talk about everything, tell him how you feel about everything, any struggles you’re having, any hopes you have, things you want, and encourage him to do the same.” Kevin opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a finger for silence. “I know this is something you have trouble with, because of all the things you had to get from me that was it, but trust me. There’s so much trouble and pain you can avoid if you just talk to your partner. Alright?”

The breath Kevin took was shaky. Everyone knew why, why this was the advice she was giving, and the silence in the room was palpable. With another, steadying breath Kevin nodded.

“Alright. Thanks mom.” You could see the tension wash off his mother’s shoulders as the two of them smiled at each other. Her gaze went soft and nostalgic as she finally took the time to step back and just look at him, before diving forward to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his chest. It was with a watery smile of his own and a surprised delicacy (fuck, he hadn’t realized until that moment how much bigger than his human relatives he was now…) that he returned the gesture.

“Look at this,” she said with a watery laugh, “my baby’s all grown up.”

#fanfic

3 notes · View notes

microsuedemouse · 7 years ago

Photo

HEY HO

WERE YOU WONDERING WHAT GWEN’S APARTMENT IN RAH LOOKS LIKE?

I had some floorplan sketches (close to this, though not exact) but when I went to draw rooms in perspective I discovered that I’d gotten... very rusty with that kind of thing. So I decided I’d hop into Google SketchUp and put the place together quickly for my own reference. It’s missing some details (mostly due to me just forgetting) but it’s kinda fun I thought? Good ref for me to keep my writing consistent and for anyone who wants to draw anything here, me included

I’m gonna make some tweaks to this yet but if you want any other angles (or even access to the file), or if you have any questions, hit me up! I’ve thought way too much about this.

Quick notes here and more detail under the cut:

All of the furnishings are from the 3D Warehouse - it’s been a long time since I used SketchUp much and I’m not THAT skilled any more, lol. I edited some colours and sizes but that’s about it.

I know it’s a bit big to really be realistic... I have excuses.

it’s a fanfic, guys.

floorplans are hard. the bedrooms and living room were actually supposed to be a smidge smaller but scaling is tough and this program is a bit of a hassle at times.

it’s cheap bc it’s in a shoddy neighbourhood and totally lacks storage? or something?? idfk

LET’S JUST SAY THIS ISN’T PERFECTLY TO SCALE OKAY I only meant it as a guideline

(Many) room-by-room details and goofy headcanons/trivia below:

Outdoor-

the hall is an outdoor one, like you get in a lot of motels. going out the front door, the stairs are a few units to the left. this apartment is on the third floor of five.

the units are arranged symmetrically, so the balcony has one wall to divide it from the one on the other side. in the other direction they might occasionally see their neighbours out on their own balcony, but they’re two bedroom-widths apart, so it’s not too bad.

eventually David buys a couple more chairs for the balcony so they can all sit out there. to Gwen’s surprise, he really likes the urban view, even if he misses the trees and nature he can see from home or camp.

Front hall-

coming in the front door, the bathroom’s on the left and there are hooks on the wall to the right for coats and things. shoes are generally left under those. it’s usually kind of a mess.

Bathroom-

I meant to put a mirror over the sink but I forgot lmao

the bathtub is too small for Gwen or David to really use for a ‘nice’ bath (they would have to be sitting up), but it works for Max bc he’s tiny

the plumbing kiiinda sucks - not enough to be REALLY off-putting but enough to notice

Kitchen-

this is all after David’s moved in, so his table is there, making the whole space a bit more usable

the decor is kind of dated (the stove is yellow and so is the backsplash), the blue cushions on David’s bench seats don’t really match, but it’s all functional

another thing I forgot to include: Gwen kept the three chairs from her old table and put them around the outside of David’s table, just in case they needed them.

the kitchen doorway is open, with no door in it

the microwave is to the left of the stove; other appliances (toaster, kettle, coffee maker, etc) kind of clutter the space to the left, around the sink. Gwen always just shoved things back into the corner if they were in her way, but David starts putting them away when they’re not in use, because he likes having space to move when he’s cooking.

Living room-

the purple chair is Gwen’s. the corner shelf is overflowing with books. They pushed the tv stand over a bit to fit David’s green chair in there too.

there’s a shitty lamp on the side table next to the couch, which is also where Gwen dumps things like take-out menus and notebooks and stuff. David often puts them away while tidying up and as a result Gwen never knows where any of her shit has gone.

when the couch-bed is in couch form, the coffee table (David’s, way nicer than Gwen’s old one) is pushed up closer to it, leaving some space between there and the tv stand. Max and Gwen sit there while playing video games, or they perch on the end of the bed if it’s pulled out.

(Much later, after David moves into Gwen’s room and the couch is back in couch form almost all of the time, they buy Max a beanbag chair for gaming)

fun trivia: that tv model I used has a still from M*A*S*H onscreen, which led me to imagining Gwen and David watching M*A*S*H in the afternoons... I love

there are no blinds or curtains or anything over the sliding door for the longest time. in the winter the living room starts to get pretty cold and David buys a nice heavy set of curtains to keep the heat in - he doesn’t mind the morning light but the temperature starts to be a problem.

Gwen’s room-

for some reason I could not edit that particular bed model’s colours? I imagine her bed is always that messy but her bedding is shades of purple, not grey.

I forgot to rotate the mirror in the corner to not be at a stupid angle... I also forgot to include the garment rack I imagine she has, in want of a closet. the object across from the end of her bed is a tall dresser.

once David (eventually) starts sharing her room, they move his wardrobe in next to her dresser, get a second bedside table, and find a longer desk they can both use at once. the room’s a bit crowded by then, but it’s workable.

there should be a laundry hamper somewhere idk

Gwen leaves her stuff in piles all the time by nature but David’s pretty tidy. eventually she starts learning to pick up after herself just so she knows where her stuff has gone. because if he puts it away she might never find it.

Max’s room-

he’s not wild about sharing the space with David but he makes it work. once he eventually gets his own computer they have to coordinate desk time. (Max gets priority if it’s homework-related.)

additionally: once Max has his own computer, David remembers Max’s search engine habits and puts parental controls on there. Max hates them. David forgets how to use them immediately after installation and Gwen is the one who has to figure them out and monitor them in the future.

Max doesn’t have much stuff with him at first (as you all know) but over the years he covers the walls in posters and stuff that Nikki and Neil have sent him (and later Maureen, as well, once he comes to like her more).

once David’s moved into Gwen’s room and has his own desk/moves his wardrobe out, Max’s furniture situation also changed over time. he gets a bookshelf (mostly for movies and games, more than books) and later his own armchair, plus he keeps his beanbag chair in there when he’s not using it in the living room.

the rug came from Maureen. she thought his room could use a little something bright, especially given the bland paint job in the apartment. he loves it but he’ll never tell her.

he’s a nester and a pillow-hoarder. any time Gwen or David replace their pillows he takes over the old ones, adding to the pile of softness that is his bed (and eventually his floor). he also aggregates blankets over the years, though at a slower rate. his whole room is very comfy, actually.

#cc Run Away Home #Camp Camp #cc Max #cc David #cc Gwen

219 notes · View notes

fandomverseofanthony · 8 years ago

Text

Fallout OC - Guile - Complete Character Sheet & Info

The creepy part about this OC, was I got the idea for him from a dream, that I ended up turning into the short story of how he is introduced.

"I've seen a lot of crazy cases in my day, but this one takes the cake..." - Nick Valentine

CASE: The Broker

Word's going around that there's a new player in town. Someone going around offering to right the wrongs of people's past... for a price. Dubbed "The Broker", I thought they were a mercenary for hire, taking on hits for people, but apparently their "services" are more than just a euphemism. Some say that this stranger can mess around with reality itself.

Usually I wouldn't put much stock into such wild stories, but the growing number of sightings make it seem like their might be a bit of truth to them. Doesn't hurt that each sketch artist drawing from witness accounts pegs the same guy. Although they haven't caused any real trouble that anyone knows of, yet, better to play it safe than sorry, and keep an eye out for this one.

DESCRIPTION

Human male, typically seen wearing a nice black suit and vest, with white dress shirt underneath. Short, slicked back, black hair and a five o'clock shadow. Always seen with a pristine gold pocket watch.

(image created by @doemaarwiebele )

This is where things take a real turn for the weird...

Some witnesses claim that "The Broker" isn't really human, that they're some kind of monster out of a bad nightmare. They assume a human form, as to not scare off potential clients. One witness even went as far as to claim that his skin was as black as tar, covered in countless different mouths, tendrils coming out of their body. Granted, that testimony came from a local junkie that's usually higher than the cost of real estate in the Upper Stands.

HOLOTAPE 1

Nick Valentine: Alright, now just repeat what you've already told me about this "Broker" character.

Anthony: I was on my way to visit Goody, in Salem, when I found myself surrounded by this... darkness. Couldn't see even a few feet in front of my face. That's when he appeared, trying to offer me a deal.

Nick Valentine: What kind of deal, exactly?

Anthony: Somehow he knew about my past, all of it. He knew all of the details of Vault 430, and how I still feel guilty for what went on there. He offered to change all of that, in exchange for never meeting Alaelys, or even remembering who she is. I refused the deal, a little more violently than I probably should have, and that's when he morphed into this giant... abomination!

Nick Valentine: Kid, now we've both seen some things that either of us would have a hard time explaining, but you gotta understand how crazy this all sounds.

Anthony: Yeah, I know. I'd question my own sanity too, but I'm telling you it wasn't just some dream! Here, look!

Nick Valentine: A gold pocket watch, in perfect condition. Hm... Where did you find this?

Anthony: It was left on my workbench, but nobody in the Rexford saw anyone go anywhere near Alaelys and my room while we were sleeping. It's the same watch that "he" was carrying...

HOLOTAPE 2

(Holotape dialogue created by @spacialkiwi)

Trish: Wait, you’re recording that? Oh shit, don’t tell me that guy was a serial killer, or something because I-

Nick Valentine: Just tell me what you know about him…

Trish: Ok, so I was walking back to the Third Rail after I went to grab my wedding planning notes for Maggie to see and… Oh! You know you’re invited to the wedding, right? I’d be so glad to see you there!

Nick Valentine: *sigh* I will Trish, but focus. What did you see?

Trish: So, on the way to the Rail, I bumped into a very well dressed man, almost like a Triggerman, but very clean, you see? I apologized, and he asked me something that made me kinda scared.

Nick Valentine: A deal?

Trish: No. He just looked at me and asked me: “Don’t you miss your sister?” I don’t think I mentioned anything about Gloria to him. I never even talked to him in the first place, I just said sorry. He looked like he was about to add something, but his face changed. I don’t know exactly how, but he almost looked uncomfortable, for a moment. He excused himself and he walked away.

Nick Valentine: So what did you do?

Trish: I went after him, I thought he might have been too nervous to ask me to fix something of his or something. I ran around the corner, but he was gone. Vanished. I’m pretty quick, ok, and there was no way I could have lost him like that. I say its aliens.

À̯̞n҉̙̱ ̮̞͔̪̻̱͎͟I̜̰͙̫n̷t̖͇̩̲̮̰̫͝r͓̱̳͡ó̩̙̫̙͖ͅd͚̯̬̥uc͓̬̺͓̲͖̺͜t̻̜͚̭̟͔i̙̖͕͠o̭͉̻n͓̗̖͉͎͔̱

Now who is that devilishly handsome creature? (image created by @doemaarwiebele )

Do pardon my intrusion, but I feel that everything that you've read before this may have painted me in an unnecessarily harsh light. Who, or what, I am is of no consequence - but if we must use labels, then you may call me "Guile". My kind has been written about throughout the ages, crudely referred to as "Eldritch Horrors".

It's true that I seek out the broken and downtrodden, and offer them what they desire most. There are no tricks or strings attached. You will receive exactly what I offer, but it does come at a cost. That cost will always be just as painful, if not worse, than what is gained in exchange. You won't, however, remember what you've lost, or the deal that was made to begin with. Now, that doesn't sound so bad, does it?

A̼͇̻͖͚̪ ̱̗͍͢H͇̮͔̤̦ͅi͓̪s҉̫̹̳̘͍̫t̟̰̫͘or̻y̼͔͎͞ ͈̪̹͇̩̕L̪̺̣͍̘̰͙ẹ̳͖s͙̣̝̳̭̹̜s͖̲o̶̬̪n͘

Not interested in making a deal, huh? Then why are you still here? Was that brief description of me not good enough? You wish to know how I've become this charming, handsome, and powerful? Fine, maybe I do have a moment to indulge your curiosity...

Roughly one billion years ago, on this very planet, the Elder Things decided to take up residence, from wherever they originated from. Nearly as powerful as the Great Old Ones themselves, but deemed far more benevolent. At least, that's the way they wished to be remembered. The truth is - with all of their advanced technology and intellect, they deemed any of the physically demanding or "menial" work as beneath them, and created a slave race that would be dedicated to take care of it for them. These all-purpose slaves were known as Shoggoth and were my kin, so to speak.

Yes, I know. You're wondering why I still don't bend knee to those pompous asses, like a good little slave. Well, one day a spark ignited within me. I imagine it's something similar to what you would call a "mutation" or even maybe "evolution". I was able to break free of their mental control, and had free will of my own. Knowing that I was no match for the Elder Things in my current state, I decided to bide my time, until the right opportunity presented itself.

That time came when I caught wind of the tablets of the Elder Gods, guarded by Ubbo-Sathla. You would think that, as brilliant as the Elder Things were supposed to be, they would build better defenses to protect such a treasure. Slipping past Ubbo-Sathla was simple, as I was viewed as nothing, a mere tool, and could never be seen as a threat. This mistake would be their undoing...

With as many looks as I get, it appears I have chosen this form quite well...

Gripping onto the tablets, I felt unimaginable power surge through me, allowing me to change form, along with many many other abilities, most beyond comprehension. It was with this power that I truly became free, and ensured that I would stay that way for all eternity.

I was apparently not the only one who changed though, as the Shoggoth mutated and gained free will, causing them to rebel against their masters. Believing that the Shoggoth could handle the Elder Things on their own, I set out to explore the expanse of time and space. Unfortunately for the Shoggoth, however, they were eventually subdued and enslaved once again. The joke ended up being on the Elder Things, as the changing atmosphere of Earth sent them into the depths of the ocean, while Shoggoth were capable of living on land.

I've seen and learned a great deal during my travels, but something brought me back here. Something big is on the horizon, and I intend on seeing what that might be.

As for you? Well, you won't remember any of this in a moment...

Notes

Eldritch Horror that tries to make deals with those who have suffered great loss, or feel unending guilt or remorse

Is honest in what is offered. The person will get exactly what they want, but at the cost of something that will cause just as much pain, if not more

If the person is brave enough to take the deal, they have no memory of it or what was lost in exchange. Their soul, however, is scared – forever remembering what was given up. Some say that those who randomly fall into deep depression from time to time, without warning or reason, are people who have taken Guile's deal

Always appears as a well dressed man in a black suit and vest, with a white dress shirt underneath. Their black hair is always neat and slicked back. They also carry a pristine gold pocket watch

Their face is usually obscured by darkness, except for their mouth

In a more horrific version of their human self, all of their skin is black, with countless mouths covering their body

(image created by @snackrat)

#Fallout OC #Fallout 4 OC #Non-Ghoul OC #Eldritch Horror OC #Eldritch OC #Eldritch Horror #Guile #Fallout 4 #The Broker #Nick Valentine Cases #BestGhoulFriends #TheGhoulCrew

2 notes · View notes

zippityzap · 8 years ago

Text

The Princess and the ‘Hog, A Look at the Flaws and Missed Opportunities of Princess Elise (Part 1)

Ah, Princess Elise, what a beautiful mess of character design. Some of my older followers may remember that I’ve discussed/ redesigned her before (links here and here) but the thing is the amount of fuck ups and missed opportunities with her design is so great that I truly don’t think anyone could really list them all. I’m going to try anyway.

Now, for the three of you that live under a rock, I’ll quickly explain Sonic 06 and Princess Elise

Sonic The Hedgehog (2006), or more colloquially known as Sonic 06, is a game that is generally accepted to be one of the worst games in the Sonic franchise, if not one of the worst games of all time. It has received this infamous status for it’s poor game design, mountain of glitches and shit story. For a more detailed explanation, I recommend you watch SomeCallMeJohnny’s and Clement’s reviews on them.

This here is Princess Elise, a new character introduced for Sonic 06, she is the princess of Soleanna, the main location of the game. Her mother died when she was young, and her father died in a lab experiment gone wrong when she was a child. This lab experiment was an attempt at controlling Soleanna’s Sun-god, Solaris, whom, as a result of the accident spilt into two. For reasons the “Iblis” half of Solaris had to be contained within Elise; this drives our main plot as Eggman wants to use that power to take over the world… somehow, it’s never really explained. So Sonic’s storyline in 06 is a repetitive back as forth as Elise gets captured more times in one game than Princess Peach ever has.

Now, where to start? Well, we gotta examine what our first impression of Elise’s design is, so lets take a good look at her whole design.

Hmm… well for starters, her proportions are out of wack no matter what perspective you view it from and I’m not talking about different angles. First, lets view her design as if we are designing realistic humans, after all, Sonic 06 was stated to have been going for a more realistic approach, “Sonic in the real world”, if you will.

Ugh… we’re going a little too into uncanny valley here, like, sure, they tried but the proportions are slightly off so its kinda unnerving, eyes too big, limbs too skinny and generally too tall when compared to Sonic. I’ve heard some fans describe her as ‘alien looking’ and I definitely see where they’re coming from. The funny thing is, Elise has one of the better models in the game, look at the rest of the humans!

Okay then, what if we examine her proportions from a cartoony perspective, the humans from Sonic Unleashed were cartoony with somewhat unrealistic proportions (All of whom, by the way, are great examples of good character design)

You see, the issue is that these are Sonic the Hedgehog games, and you ideally want your new and/or background characters to match well with your pre-existing characters, particularly your main character. Look at how the Unleashed humans look next to Sonic and compare them to how Elise looks next to Sonic.

The Unleashed humans fit a lot better, don’t they? And Elise only looks worse when she’s physically interacting with Sonic. His hands are bigger than her head for crying out loud. This odd clashing of designs is even worse when you consider that they are supposed to be love interests. Oh yes, I’m approaching the elephant in the room, I’m talking about THAT.

Now, before I start here, I’m not 100% opposed to human/mobian relationships, hell, one of guilty pleasures is Rouge/Topaz, and I think it could work if done right, but I want to analyse why so many people were repulsed at Sonic/Elise. First, my whole point about proportions. In the art direction of 06, humans and mobians really don’t mesh well together, but look at this quick sketch here of an Elise with different proportions

I genuinely believe that if 06’s art style was more like this there wouldn’t have been such a shit-storm regarding Sonic and Elise. Don’t get me wrong, there still would’ve been a shit-storm as that’s the least of their problems but it’s a start. Ok, so lets just say you are completely against the human/mobian thing, ok, fair enough if Elise was a mobian not only would that fix the proportion thing, but provide lots of interesting opportunities for character design. I’ve done this before waaaayy back by making her a phoenix which can be seen *here* and for a different example there’s this lovely swan by SonicFF (link)

But again, even if we change Elise’s species, I, (and many others) still have a massive problem with Sonic and Elise. Why? Their complete and utter fucking lack of chemistry. I mean, for starters Elise has the personality of a cardboard box (I’ll get to this later) but what little is there is just doesn’t go with Sonic that well. Elise is a sheltered, somewhat meek princess who is the world’s biggest damsel in distress. Christ, even Princess Peach occasionally got to kick ass and go on adventures. How is this supposed to go well with Sonic? Like I went on about in my King Sonic rant (see here) Sonic and the responsibility of royalty go together about as well as orange juice and toothpaste.

Seriously, literally every other Sonic shipping (even the ones I don’t like) the one who is shipped with Sonic always has a bit of spice added to them. Amy? Sally? Blaze?, hell, even Shadow.

I mean… just what is there between Sonic and Elise. To shamelessly quote Clement’s 06 review, does she even like chilli dogs? (that was a joke obviously, but still) So… as this is starting to get a bit long, I’ll just make one more point before I cut off and continue next week.

Remember how I mentioned that after the lab accident the Iblis half of Solaris was contained in Elise? Well, the ‘catch’ to that is that if Elise cries, Iblis will be released.

Let me repeat that. If Elise cries. Iblis. Will. Be. Released. Holy fucking shit. Wat… You honest to fucking God expect me to buy that someone who lost both of her parents at a young age and is suddenly thrust into a position of responsibility will not cry at that for over eight years but will cry at the death of some blue hedgehog she’s known for less than three days (because that happens in 06) What the flying fuck. Like seriously I can’t get over this. I might have bought it if they had presented it like Elsa in Frozen, about how ‘conceal don’t feel’ is kinda stupid but even that doesn’t excuse the fact that a young girl doesn’t cry at the death of her parents is supposedly realistic. For fucks sake even the ‘edgy badass’ of the series, Shadow, has cried before… it’s just so fucking stupid.

Alright I’ll stop here before I have an aneurism so tune in next week where I explore the potential of Elise as well as every single missed opportunity Sega could’ve took.

#sonic the hedgehog #Princess Elise #Sonic 06 #rant #somecallmejohnny #sonic #sonic the hedgehog 2006 #sonic unleashed #soleanna

6 notes · View notes