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youre-amazing-say-it · 3 years ago

Note

Hellooo <3 Could you do a short fic where Loki is comforting the reader after he/she failed a big test? Like the reader is disappointed in themselves and Loki just reminds them of how awesome they are.

Hello! I would love to!!! Thanks for being my first request, and it’s fitting with how my life is going lol

Take Your Time

Tgif is not mine

Summary: you got the results for the TCT(teacher certification test) exam and it wasn’t what you expected. Little did you know the god of mischief could make your dark day brighter.

Warning: Crying, Anxiety, self hatred, school (lol), swear words, and just fluff

Word Count: 1.4kish

A/N: thank you to @ktellmeastory for helping me edit! really appreciate it! as i said this is my first fic so please give honest feedback! hope you enjoy!

“Come on. Come ON!” You yelled at your computer. You have been staring at the screen for the past 10 minutes waiting for the clock to hit 2:00 to get the results that would determine your future.

You were an aspiring teacher who had your whole life planned out for you since you were a kid. You always loved hanging out with kids and being creative and helping others achieve their dreams. So naturally everyone told you to become a teacher, and you listened to them.

However, school is expensive, so you applied for a job as a receptionist at the Avengers compound to help pay off the debt you were going to have. You’ve been working there for about two years and had become acquaintances with the heroes, and even earned the nickname “Little Miss Sunshine”. The avengers knew about your career path, mainly cause when you weren’t working you were studying or working on a lesson plan. They all enjoyed your company, and you even let them help you with your lessons occasionally.

The clock hit 2 and you pressed enter, and you waited for the screen to load, and slowly it came up.

Y/N L/N-TCT Fall 2022 Results-70%-Click for More

“FUCK” you screamed at the top of your lungs. You rest your head on your arms on the table and let out a sob. All the work, late nights, and countless breakdowns were supposed to pay off with good results, and now you aren’t even a teacher. You knew you could take it again in a year but what would be the point anyway. Nobody would hire someone who had to take the test twice.

Loki was roaming the halls of the compound when he heard your sobs. The God of Mischief peeked into the break room and saw the light of his life having a stormy day, and his heart hurt. You two didn’t spend too much time together, because of your polar opposite personalities. But to say he wasn’t fond of you would be a lie. Since you were always so happy, he felt the need to protect you and make sure you never lost that joy. But something broke you, and he was going to find out what happened.

“Y/N” he said, knocking on the door. You looked up and quickly wiped away your tears. You didn’t know what the God of Mischief would do to you in such a vulnerable state.

“Hey Loki” you said, forcing a smile on your face. “I’m on my break, but what can I do for you?”

“I think you mean what can I do for you darling,” he said, pulling a chair next to you. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean? No-nothing’s going on Loki. I’m perfectly fine” you forced out, a little too quickly you realized.

“I’m the god of mischief Y/N. I can tell when someone is lying. Now either you tell me the truth, or I grab Wanda to get it out of you.”

“Loki, I said I’m fine. I appreciate the concern, but I have to go, my break is almost up.” You said, quickly getting up before you were stopped by a hand on your wrist.

“Y/N” Loki said, causing you to back towards him. You looked in his eyes and felt all your emotions start coming up slowly.

“What’s wrong darling?”

Those words broke you like a dam. You felt all the stress and anxiety you had over the years come out as you fell on Loki's chest. He quickly caught you and wrapped his arms around you, slowly rubbing your back. “It’s okay sunshine. take your time.” He said, and for some reason, that was exactly what you needed to hear.

You cried out until you couldn’t anymore. Loki took this as a sign to finally move you to the couch. You both sat in silence, you not knowing what to say, and Loki waiting for you to start the conversation.

"I’m really sorry about that," you said, talking to your lap. "I don’t know what happened."

"I think I know what happened," Loki said, turning to look at you. He grabbed your hand and started stroking it with his thumb. "I think you spent so much time putting other people first that you forgot to let yourself go every once in a while."

"I’ve been holding that in for a long time, I guess" you said, finally looking at him. "I didn’t even realize it. I just feel this huge weight off my shoulder."

"If you don’t mind me asking, what pushed this over the edge?" Loki said. You took a deep breath in, debating whether or not to tell the God how you are really feeling and what was going on. But he did just see you have a breakdown, so what's the point of hiding your feelings?

"Well, I had the TCT results come in today. And I failed. I have been working towards this for as long as I can remember, and I feel I put in all this work and effort for nothing. I mean if I’m even supposed to do this, what did I do wrong, am I’m not good enough, I just feel–"

"Hey, hey Y/N!" Loki said, pulling you out of the train of thought that was currently bubbling from you. "Listen to me. You need to stop listening to these voices that are in your head that are telling you you’re not good enough. Because you and I both know damn well that this is what you’re supposed to do. You have been working towards this for such a long time. So what if you fail? It just means that you’re going to study and become an even better teacher than you were going to be before. Plus, if your employer values a stupid test over your years of school, work ethic, personality, and beautiful heart, then they’re not the right ones and they are incredibly stupid."

You look at Loki shocked. You never thought he would say something so kind and sweet to anyone, especially you.

"Wow Loki, that was really nice. I didn’t think you had it in you to say something like that" you said, laughing to try to lighten up this sweet moment. You never felt comfortable with compliments, especially ones as sweet as you just heard.

"I didn’t either. But seeing you so upset apparently brought kindness to my heart." Loki said. You looked down at your hand, still being held in Loki's hand. For some reason, it felt right, but that was an issue for another day.

"Thank you, Loki," you said, pulling your hand out of his. "You really are a good friend."

"Oh? We’re friends now, are we?" He said with his infamous grin.

"I kind of think so," you said while laughing, "seeing as you just saw me break down," You stand up off the couch and start heading towards the exit of the break room. "But anyway, I have to go back to work. have a good rest of your day!" you said as you turned to leave.

"Oh no," you hear the god say behind you. "You’re not going back to work."

"Okay Loki, I appreciate it but I have to pay off my debt somehow."

"I understand that," he said, slowly walking towards you. "But today has been a really tough day for you and you deserve the day off. I’ll go tell Stark that you were sick, and I sent you home."

"Lok-"

"Ah ah ah! no buts. You need to go home and relax; you deserve a break after all this time"

"Thank you, Loki," you said, and for some reason you felt the need to hug him. You wrap your arms around the god, "for everything today"

"Of course, darling," he said, placing a kiss on your head. it felt right.

You go to the desk and start to collect your stuff. You are about to head out when you hear "hey Y/N?"

You turn around and look at Loki, who has a smile on his face. First time you have seen that on him. "Take all the time you need. I’ll always be here for you."

#loki #loki x reader #loki fluff #avengers x reader #loki x female reader #loki (marvel)#loki x you #loki series #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki 2021 #loki tv #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddleston

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cyberloops · 3 years ago

Audio

This seems to be my new schedule. I record a jam over the weekend, post the video, then I don’t get to actually yank out the audio and do any mixing until the end of the next week/beginning of the next weekend.

Well, if it works, it works.

This was another jam where I switched some things up, and I had my Modal Skulpt duplicating the first MIDI channel out from my Novation Circuit Tracks, but set to arpeggiate instead of just play. But since I had the first channel on the Circuit set to a bass-type instrument, the first channel only plays monophonically. So I was able to do interesting things by having the bassline play three notes, hold them as a chord, but you only hear the last note held. But the chord is still there, because the Skulpt is arpeggiating through it. Up until now I haven’t done much with arpeggiators because I usually prefer playing or sequencing my own variations, but this made for an interesting change.

I also had the Crave and the TD-3 both doubling another bassline, so all in all there are three instruments doing basslines in this piece, shifting back and forth and sometimes working together, sometimes working against each other.

I’d really like to get a decent FM synth, but right now money is tight. I had been eying the Yamaha DX Reface as an affordable option, but now that I’ve seen some examples of what the Sonicware Liven XFM can do, I think I’m leaning more towards that, and of course Korg is coming out with the new Volca FM 2, which fixed the two things that made me not want to buy the original. Most namely the fact that it wasn’t velocity sensitive (e.g., if you plugged a keyboard or other MIDI controller into it, how hard you hit the keys wouldn’t change the volume or timbre of the sound.) and it only had 3 voice polyphony. The new one has velocity sensitivity and 6 note polyphony, so if I DO find a time when I’ve got some money to spare, maybe I’ll buy one just to use with my guitar MIDI controller. It seems like a perfect little device for a six-stringed MIDI controller.

The other thing I really need to do is something that is NOT my forte... try to find or put together better drum sample packs for what I do. I loaded up mostly 606, 707, and 808 samples into my Circuit. But I really need to sit down and work on my own versions that have a little more bass and punch for what I need. The one drawback to using the Circuit for my percussion is that I can’t just have the mixer boost and add more reverb on just the percussion... because I’ve also got four synth channels running through there too. So I need to do some audio editing and give those samples more oomph to start with. Or find free samples that have what I need. Both of which require a bit of sit-down time at my computer. Time that I’d rather spend making or mixing music. But it’s part of the process, and I really should do it.

Alternatively, if I do get something like the Liven XFM, maybe I could make my own percussion sounds and use that, and save the sample library in my Circuit to add interesting other non-percussive sounds.

#cyberpunk #cyberpunk music #cyberpunk aesthetic #music #aesthetic #jam session #screenside jam session #dawless #dawless jam #dawless jammin #dawless jamming #synth #synthesizer #synthwave #retrowave #novation circuit #novation circuit tracks

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pateldevs · 4 years ago

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Hi! I hope I'm not bothering you, but I love your mood board edits and was wondering if you could explain how you go about making/colouring them? I see lots of places to find gifs but turning them into a set is so hard. Thank you in advance!

hi! first of all thank you so much and second of all it’s not a bother at all! i am happy to give some of my own tips even if my explanation probably isn’t super helpful. i won’t give like a ps tutorial but below the cut (since i included example gifs, it’s VERY long) is my process for my latest jily aesthetic:

i keep track of all my ideas/sets in a spreadsheet (which i won’t show bc there’s a lot of info i’d have to blur/black out) but i always have a list of what scenes i need to gif/what gifs i’m editing and where i’m getting them from. i also include a couple extra ideas in case the gifs i have planned end up being too hard to color or don’t fit in the set. i’ve found it’s best/easiest to start w the list bc there is literally nothing worse than spending hours on a set and then not being able to complete it.

as for actually finding the material, i have a pretty healthy number of scene packs saved in my giffing folder, esp. for things i know i will gif frequently. most of the time i will peruse youtube, vimeo, and instagram for any aesthetic scenes. i also have a lot of gif packs saved specifically for the purpose of making mbs (usually i mix my own gifs w gif packs), if you msg me i’m happy to direct you to some gif packs i use regularly or you can check my #resources tag. a couple tips for finding material:

always opt for download when possible, i used to screen record and the difference when i switched to downloading was astronomical. (it’s easy to lose quality and esp if you’re on mac, quicktime duplicates frames so either you have to manually delete those extras or you get sort of choppy gifs when you load them into ps.)

always use 1080p or better, 720p will work in a pinch for 268px or 177px gifs since you can make up some of that resolution loss with sharpening, but don’t go any lower than that, just love yourself.

for pale sets, look for the right colors. i tend to look for scenes w high color contrast especially if it features poc so it’s easier to color without whitewashing, ie if the subject is a person then i look for light colored or blue/green/violet/white backgrounds. it’ll make your life wayyyyy easier. this also means if you’re making a set try to find scenes with already similar lighting bc you won’t have to work so hard to make it look cohesive.

here’s a quick rundown of what i do before coloring:

import all frames and save all the files in a folder together!!

play around with frame delay so all the gifs are moving at about the same speed, usually keep it between 0.03-0.05s

crop and resize gifs (i use 268x145 most of the time)

convert to timeline

when it comes to coloring it can be really hit or miss, i’ve recently gotten back into my groove but i was having sooo much trouble earlier this year. in general, don’t stress yourself out!! sometimes it’s easier to just find a new scene/gif (hence my list of extras!) than to try too hard to fit a gif into your set. i color all my gifs by scratch (ie no psds) but i tend to follow the same pattern, i’ll explain using these gifs/psd as an example since then i can also explain how to fix white-washing:

first off when you’re coloring gifs with poc always always always make a layer mask so you can compare the edited and unedited skin tones directly! i use the marquee tool to make a selection in the middle of the character’s face, select the folder of my adjustment layers, and hit ‘add vector mask’ (the third button from the left on the layers panel, it’s a white rectangle with a circle in it).

i almost always begin by using hue/saturation layers to highlight and delete certain colors. here i highlighted red and raised the lightness on yellow by a lot since it’s a very yellow scene. then i use a combination of brightness/contrast, levels, and curves layers to brighten the scene. here’s what i have now:

i add a gradient map set to black/white, change the blending to exclusion, and lower the opacity to between 5-10% (depending on the scene) to lighten the contrast further:

then i add back a little depth with selective color in neutrals and blacks:

now i have two main goals: 1. add contrast between the background and the subject, and 2. brighten the scene into a pale gif. to do this, i use color balance to tweak the color of the background, taking out the yellows. this step works best if there’s at least some shade difference between your subject and background, otherwise isolating the two will be impossible. here’s what i have after adding color balance:

i use hue/saturation to selectively highlight the background color. in this case i chose to adjust magenta and used the color picker (the first eyedropper on the left) to identify the exact shade i wanted to lighten. now i have a fairly neutral background and a colorful subject, which gives a sort of pale effect:

and now i use a curves layer and a selective color (white) layer to brighten further:

before i go further, i start fixing white-washing. keep in mind that some variance is normal since you are naturally changing the lighting of the scene; this gif shows it rlly clearly bc of how yellow and dim the lighting is, so some lightening is to be expected. however, both because the vector mask shows a lot of whitening and because i’ve giffed dev patel before and have a general idea of what he looks like in this type of lighting, i know what needs to be fixed, so i go back in under the psd/adjustment layers with a combination of selective color (red and neutral) and hue/saturation layers to darken his skin again:

now that some more contrast has been added in, i can go back to working on the psd and use curves and selective color to play around with the background again:

i use another hue/saturation layer and a black/white gradient to tone down oversaturation:

usually i leave those layers on top, so if i want to make any adjustments (like lightening the background more), i go in under those two. in this case i tweaked the whites and reduced the contrast a little to get this:

again, you can see his skin tone has changed from the original, but variation is to be expected given how much brighter the room is, the fact that i took out a lot of yellow lighting, and the brightening effect of the computer screen in front of him. some other things to keep in mind when coloring:

when you add layers to correct white-washing, you’re likely to end up with overly red/orange skin tones (red-washing). this can be fixed by upping cyans in the reds, desaturating/darkening the reds, or adding b/w or desaturation later on.

when in doubt, it’s better to be darker than lighter (the issue with white-washing is that it promotes colorism, and there is nothing inherently wrong with a darker skin tone) but really. just put in the effort to color poc correctly.

when changing the lighting a lot it helps to look at pictures of the subject in natural/bright lighting, since you get a better idea of what their normal skin tone is.

don’t try to squeeze all your selective color layers into one. you’ll get less grainy gifs if you separate them out and work one by one.

TURN OFF NIGHT SHIFT/NIGHT MODE! yes i KNOW it’s bad for your eyes (especially if you’re like me and gif at night, when the lighting outside isn’t changing every 20 seconds) but your gifs will look VERY different under f.lux or night mode compared to daytime screens. especially if you’re giffing at different times of day, blue light filters can really change the way your coloring appears. best to keep it consistent.

my sharpening settings vary depending on what i’m giffing but in general i do two layers of smart sharpen (500% with radius between 0.2-0.4, 10% with radius at 10px) and then gaussian blur at 2.5px and adjust the opacity so it’s somewhere between 15-20%. i try to strike a balance between smoothing out the graininess from selective color, and sharpening details like clothes and hair. here’s what i ended up with for the gif above:

then i rinse and repeat for the rest of the gifs in the set! i tend to start with the gifs that i know will be hardest to color, which is usually the darker ones (coloring is limited by how much i can brighten the scene) and those that include poc (again, limited by how much i can brighten and adjust the scene’s lighting without white-washing). then i check set cohesion as i go, using those first few gifs as benchmarks. once i have all 8 (or 9 or 10) gifs, i play around with composition and try to balance and vary the subject, colors, and composition of gifs next to each other. i go back and make a couple of adjustments here and there according to what i observe and what i think might improve the overall appearance.

and that’s pretty much it! i hope this was helpful, if you have other questions feel free to message me and i’d be happy to help/troubleshoot. happy giffing!

#Anonymous #*#resources #answered #sorry this was sO long but i hope it helped on the coloring end #tbh i exceeded my own expectations with the dev gif lol #yeahps #completeresources #chaoticresources #tutorial #coloring tutorial

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pixieungerstories · 3 years ago

Text

Quarantine -3

It would have been nice to have something other than the word of a shadow to go on. I stared at the ceiling. I wished I had a cat or a dog or - hell - a pet hamster. Some other living thing in the house. I had no idea what Nick was but I wasn’t entirely sure he counted as a living thing.

“Humans who don’t sleep start to hallucinate,” I muttered to myself. Maybe if I actually got some shut eye, I would wake up and this would all be a dream. “Fuck it.” I got undressed and crawled under the covers. I settled under the covers, then realized I was facing the closet, so I rolled over. Having the door in my blind spot wasn’t necessarily better.

“Nick?” I wasn’t really expecting an answer. “Can you move the bed to another room?”

“I can. I don’t want to. I like having you where I can see you.”

I nodded. “I’ll go sit in the kitchen until dawn.”

“Go! To! Sleep!”

I jumped then started to shake. “Yelling at me isn’t going to help me sleep,” I muttered.

The bedroom door slammed shut. Rattling the door knob and pulling as hard as I could didn’t make it budge. “Please don’t do this,” I whimpered, then I screamed as something brushed my face.

The door opened suddenly enough that I unbalanced and fell on my ass, but a moment later I was running down the stairs and out the front door. I was at the gate before I knew what I was doing.

The cops were still right there.

“You need to go back inside ma’am!” the closest one called. After that they were all looking at me.

I paced for a moment, uncomfortably aware how odd I was behaving. I needed to get out of here. I needed a smoke. I needed to stop acting weird before they decided I had killed my neighbours.

Oh god. I was trapped in a house with a creature that probably killed the looters.

I didn’t want to face the idea that Nick was a killer.

“Ma’am! Go inside!”

“I saw what happened on the news,” I explained. “It’s giving me nightmares and I’ve been stuck in that house for more than a month. I wasn’t expecting to be quarantined in a construction site.”

“Be that as it may, you need to go back inside,” the patrolman called.

“I’m more than six feet away from you. Can’t I just stay out here near some other people and the street lights? Please?”

“You aren’t exactly dressed for the weather,” he pointed out.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I realized I was standing on my lawn in my night dress. I should go in and at least get my robe. It was in the room with Nick’s closet.

I thought about just confessing to something so that I could go with them. Prison wouldn’t have Nick. Maybe I just needed a hospital. No. That was a death sentence these days.

He was driving me off. He had flat out told me that he was good at that.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“No!” I snapped. “I’m scared.”

He gave me a pitying look but still insisted, “You need to go inside now. You will be safe in your house.”

I snorted, and swatted at the bugs that had found me.

“Go inside,” he said gently. “The last thing you need is to catch something from the mosquitos.”

I nodded slowly and headed back in to sit in the kitchen. Maybe he would let me make a pot of coffee. When I got inside the lights in the kitchen was on and the bed was set up on the main floor.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome. This is temporary. You will sleep upstairs when the walls are repaired.

The next morning I got a phone call ordering me out into the garden as a forklift delivered a load of drywall. It was left in the middle of the floor next to my bed. I looked at it. Nick’s voice was too close to my ear, “Someone will come hang in tomorrow.”

“How did you pay for this?”

“You have an excellent credit rating and you aren’t spending much of your money.”

“Great. Did they say how long it would take?”

There was no answer to that.

“I guess drywallers wear masks all the time anyway,” I mused. “At least there will be some other people around.”

“Yes.”

I didn’t have walls the next day. In fact things were worse as the last of the lath and plaster was taken down. They found hundreds of razor blades in the wall in the bathroom. The construction guys assured me that it was normal to find all kinds of weird things in the walls of old houses, but they still looked uncomfortable that it was razor blades and that some of them were more bloody than you would expect from a mere shaving accident. I spent the night picking them up with tweezers and dropping them into a jar for safe disposal. Nick didn’t say a word and the lights stayed on that night.

One half the team turned up the next day. No one commented on why that was.

I ordered a hammock and a grill for the backyard. I got the hammock but someone had changed the grill to a chiminea when I wasn’t looking. It was nice, but I couldn’t cook on it. My order had also been edited to include a bunch of bug repellant candles and some sunscreen. I tried to figure out if that was something a shadow creature would actually do or was this another sign that I was losing my mind.

Either way, I worked on the concrete table out back at the very limit of the wifi during the day and concentrated on fixing up the yard after official work hours.

One of the drywallers sold me a patio umbrella.

I also got the lecture that just because the walls were up didn’t mean that it was safe to use the shower.

“You still have to get a membrane installed and your tiles up and sealed,” the guy explained.

I nodded, “You don’t happen to know a tile guy that is still working?”

He frowned, “I’ll ask around. Do you have tiles yet?”

“No,” I admitted.

“That might be the hard part. You can still find a few guys willing to come out, but all the factories are shut down.”

“Shit.”

He gave me a look of sympathy. “Yeah. There are stories of people doing penny walls or using their grandma’s china to tile just so they have a working bathroom.”

“I don’t have either of those things,” I said sadly.

He nodded, “I’ll ask around. It isn’t a big project and people might have some leftovers.”

Given how protective Nick was of the house I should have expected his warning. I was still unimpressed to see “no ugly tile” written on the drywall in the morning. Still, he could have used the last of my lipstick and instead had found a pencil somewhere. I tried to ignore it as I brushed my teeth. I didn’t even have a mirror over the sink. Grumbling around the toothbrush I realized, “Fuck. I’m the only person who could buy a haunted house where the ghost had been watching too much HGTV.”

That earned me a creepy house shaking laugh and proof that he hadn’t just left.

“It’s your fault,” he purred in my ear. “You are the one who fell asleep all those nights with decorating shows playing on repeat on your computer.”

I sighed. “Yeah, it was,” I agreed sadly. “If I hadn’t would you be haunting me right now?”

“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the value in what you are doing and I wouldn’t have spent a week keeping you alive when you got sick. Perhaps you would have been haunting me.”

I frowned, “I wasn’t sick for a week! It was only a couple of days!”

“You should check your calendar. It was a couple of days of you being sick and a week of me forcing you to breathe.”

“There is no way I lost a week without noticing!”

He didn’t say anything. When I checked my calendar there were nearly two weeks missing. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. Nick used my computer, he could have just deleted the information. I could just call work or Penny or someone and ask how long I was away for.

I kind of didn’t want to. What if he was telling the truth?

I took my coffee and toast and ate breakfast outside, once again wishing for a cigarette. Nick had never left the house, as far as I knew, and I didn’t want to talk to him just then. This was ridiculous! Shadow monsters didn’t … do that! They didn’t … exist. I was just … this wasn’t happening!

I was out of coffee and the coldness of the concrete bench was soaking through my night shirt and into my ass. I had left the folded towel I used as a cushion inside overnight so it wouldn’t get damp. Now I was cold and damp instead. Fuck.

When I made it back to the kitchen, my laptop was open and had apparently been searching for bathroom tiles. ‘Fine. Whatever. Pick something nice that I can afford.”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to do, but contacting a local stained glass artist wasn’t it. I really wasn’t expecting her to check if it was OK if my boyfriend picked out the design since it was my credit card that was paying for it.

I was afraid to ask, but I had to know, “What did he pick?”

Nancy cleared her throat, “Well, originally he wanted a reproduction of a stained glass window from Maison Schott in France. But when we talked about how complicated it would be for a tiler to install that, he settled on a simpler rose on trellis pattern.”

I set down the phone to close my eyes and scrub my face. “Do you like what he picked out?” She seemed a little taken aback by the question. “Yes? It’s a little modern for your age of house, but it’s a nice piece and will be easy to install. It mostly uses different textured white glass, so it would be in keeping with a white bathroom. I can have it ready next week. I’m not exactly over run with work right now.” She paused before she added, “I’ll send you some sketches and if there is anything you need changed, just let me know. I could really use the income, to be honest.”

“Yeah. I understand that. I guess I’m just doing my part to keep the economy running.”

“I really appreciate that. The whole ‘buy local’ movement ended when we weren’t allowed to leave our houses,” Nancy pointed out.

“Ok. Send me the sketches and the quote and I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days.”

I lay in bed that night and looked at the newly drywalled dining room ceiling. “What are you doing, Nick?”

“Making a home for you,” he whispered.

“Can I even afford this? You don’t have a secret money vault hidden in the walls with the razor blades, do you?”

There was a long moment of silence, then he whispered, “You could sell the wine instead of drinking it.”

I froze. “Just because it’s old doesn’t mean that it’s valuable,” I pointed out.

Something caressed my calf as he purred his reply, “But it is.”

I closed my eyes and let my body melt into the mattress. My breath caught in my throat as the touch moved up my leg. As soon as I made the noise, the contact vanished. I groaned.

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking the rules,” he grumbled from across the room.

I needed to know, “Why were there razor blades in the walls?”

“There was a slot in the back of the medicine cabinet for used razor blades to be dropped between the wall boards so that they were safe and wouldn’t hurt anyone in the trash. That was perfectly normal at one point in history,” he explained.

I considered this, “Why were there bloody razor blades in the walls?”

He didn’t answer that one. “Why haven’t you used your little toy since I cleaned it for you?”

Now it was my turn to be silent.

“You liked that toy,” he prompted. “I liked watching you enjoy yourself. Good for everyone.”

“That’s really creepy. Can’t you just watch porn like a normal person?”

“Porn isn’t as satisfying,” he replied. Then he added, “For either of us. And I am not a normal person.”

“I noticed.”

“Would we have fucked by now if I was?” he just sounded curious. The vocal leer from a moment ago was gone.

“I would have had you arrested by now if you were.”

The low chuckle rumbled through the house at that. I closed my eyes and he stroked my face. “Let me watch,” he purred. “I can feel how badly you want.”

That made my eyes snap open. “What?”

“I can taste your fear, but also your pleasure. I enjoyed watching you cum in a way that humans can not understand. And I am very aware of your frustration.”

“What happens to my soul if a shadow … creature watches me play with myself?”

“It gets to live in a house with a happier guardian?” he suggested.

“A guardian? Is that what you are?”

“Guardian sounds better than monster or eldritch god but that’s just semantics.”

“I’m pretty sure there is a difference,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps the difference is what I’m doing at the time. And right now, I am guarding this house, taking care of you and hoping you will take care of yourself.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I joked. “I’m too damn tired!” I thought for a moment, “I need more rules, Nick.”

“Like what?” he asked in a breathy hissing rasp that sounded pretty much like how I imagined a death rattle would sound.

“Well, there’s that,” I pointed out. “Now I’m scared and I can’t see you so this is going to be another night of sitting up until I fall down.”

“You need to rest,” he murmured in a more normal voice for him. It wasn’t human sounding, but it wasn’t deliberately scary.

I had already set up and was fumbling for a light switch. I shrieked when he caught my hand. “Ugh! Look, either I get to sleep or you get to scare me, but you have to pick one. And I can’t see when you are going to touch me, so it’s scary every time. That’s why I asked you not to. But if you can’t do that, can you at least tell me when it’s coming?”

“Would that really make it better if you knew I was going to lick my way up your back?”

“It would if I knew you would listen when I tell you not to. This is about trust, Nick. I don’t trust you. I am already very aware of how vulnerable I am here. You could easily lock me in the basement and wait for me to starve to death. You could smother me with my pillow. Hell, you could slice open an artery and hide the razor blade in the walls.” I stopped abruptly, wondering if I was just giving him ideas. “I can’t stop you and I can’t leave and I can’t trust you not to lock me in the bedroom because you think that will help me sleep.” He let go of my hand. I turned on the light and looked around the empty house. “My head hurts and I don’t want to be afraid any more.”

“I have never done anything to hurt you, but I can see how I have done things that are frightening.” It sounded like a whisper on the very edge of hearing. “Turn out the light, lay down and I will rub your back until you can sleep. I will do my very best not to be scary.”

I turned on my laptop as a source of light and sound before I turned off the light switch. “I can’t believe I am saying this, but if you want this to be less scary for me, find me a nightlight. I haven’t needed one since I was ten, but, congratulations, I do now.”

I felt the bed dip. It didn’t always do that. “I’m going to rub your back now,” he whispered. “You can tell me to stop.”

“Ok,” I acknowledge.

It wasn’t a massage; it was more like a person petting a cat. He started at the top of my head and stroked back to my waist, then stopped and started again. It was vaguely soothing and I was really exhausted by then. At some point in the night I woke to see a huge black shape hunched over my keyboard.

In the morning I had emails confirming my order of six cartoon animal night lights from IKEA and one from an auction house saying they would be happy to broker the sale of my wine and that they would send an expert to confirm its authenticity.

I wondered how you forge wine.

#quarantine #oh my god they were quarantined #shadow monster

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youreacowgirllikeme · 4 years ago

Text

Coffee to go

Pairing: Chris Cuomo x female Reader

Warning: Swearing, Smut (only read this if you’re 18+ pls), NSFW, not edited

Note: Alright, this is my first attempt at smut so be nice pls (also I’m not a native speaker, so sorry for my grammar)

The cold November wind blows right into your face as you walk (actually, it was more of a jog) through the streets of Washington DC.

“You will reach your destination in 200 meters“ the computer voice from google maps tells you through your headphones. You break into a run, clutching your hot coffee cup tightly to prevent it from spilling over.

“Shit, don’t let me be late on my very first day of work“ you whisper to yourself, as you finally reach the huge glass doors of the CNN headquarters.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N“ you tell the security guard at the entrance, showing your ID„ I’m the new intern in the politics department.“

„First Elevator on the right, then all the way up to the 10th floor.“

You pass the security check and mumble a quick “Thank you!” to the guard as you make your way over to the elevator. You have 3 minutes left.

“This is my dream job, this is my dream job. It’s finally happening.“ you repeat to yourself, alone in the cabin.

You still can’t believe that you were granted the prestigious position as an intern for the DC politics department at CNN. You graduated with a degree in journalism from Oxford, UK this summer, but with the current political climate and the presidential election coming up, you felt like DC was the place to be at the moment. When you saw there was an internship at CNN advertised, you didn’t hesitate and applied. And all the hard work you put into getting excellent grades and doing tons of extracurricular work payed off, because here you were, on your first day of work.

You try to calm your fluttering nerves one last time with deep breaths and a sip of your still fairly hot coffee.

As the mechanical voice announces the elevators arrival on the 10th floor, you practically storm out of the doors...and run straight into a wall.

“Oh Fuck!“ a deep voice exclaimes, and as you take a step back you see that the wall you ran into was, in fact, a man. A very tall, broad and handsome looking man...with your hot coffee spilled all over his white dress shirt and a furious look on his face.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Sir!“ you cry out, praying for the ground to swallow you up. What a perfect first impression. You reach in your pocket to grab a handkerchief, but he dismisses you bluntly with a wave of his hand.

„Just watch where you going next time.“

Giving you one last sharp glare, he walks away, disappearing into a door further down the hallway.

Still mortified, you throw your now empty coffee cup onto the nearest bin and hurry to the room you were told to go in your admission email. It’s a tiny office, where a moddle-aged woman sits on a desk loaded with paperwork.

“Good Morning Ma’am, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the new politics intern, starting today.“ you tell her, hoping that your face isn’t beet red anymore and your jacket is free of coffee stains. The woman glances up from her computer screen and gives you a quick look over.

“About time. Welcome to CNN, I’m Susan, your supervisor.“

She rummages trough a desk drawer.

"Here is your company ID, a key to the break room, you already sent us your signed contract, didn’t you?“ she asks in a monotoneus voice.

"Yes, thank you so much.“ you say, taking the offered items. "Is there already a list of what my tasks here are going to be?“

"Yes, with the election coverage starting tomorrow, there is still a lot of preparation to do. You’ve been assigned to run errands for our anchor team today, and I guess also for the rest of the week. Paperwork, coffee, stuff like that, just be at their back and call. We expect it to be a tight race, and we need to cover it 24 hours a day. So be prepared to spend most of your time here.”

"There’s a locker in the break room, put your stuff there. The copy room is next door, make 3 copies of those papers and bring them to Chris Cuomo, he’s our lead anchor for the election coverage. His office is the last door down the hall on the right. And hurry, we don’t have a lot of time and he’s not exactly a patient man.” She starts typing something on her phone, obviously dismissing you.

You rush to the break room, hastily throw your bag and jacket in the last free locker, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror (face still a bit red, but no coffee stains, thank god) and go on to make those copies next door. You let your mind wander while the copier does it’s job.

Chris Cuomo. You know he hosts a well known daily prime time show on CNN, but you’ve never seen it as it airs in the middle of the night in the UK. You’re actually suprised they chose him for the job of the election lead anchor, considering he was originally based in the New York Office of CNN. You try to remember what he looked like, but you have no idea. And no time to google him.

So you just grab the stack of papers and bolt down the hallway to the door Susan described. There’s a provisional sign on the door, bearing the name “Christopher C. Cuomo”.

You knock three times and hear a loud "Come in“ from the other side of the door. You enter...and stop instantly, eyes going wide.

Standing in front of you is the guy from the elevator. The hot one. The one who’s dress shirt you ruined with your beverage.

Said dress shirt lies on the floor in a crumpled heap. The man, obviously Chris Cuomo himself, is wearing only a white undershirt, apparently in the middle of changing clothes . His huge, muscled arms are on full display. And he’s looking directly at you, one eyebrow arched.

“Can I help you?” he asks with a hint of annoyance in his deep voice.

You realize you are staring, and quickly try to compose yourself.

“Uhm, yes, I’m so sorry to bother you, Mr Cuomo, I’m Y/N, the new intern. I’m here to deliver those papers from Susan’s office . I’ve been assigned to assist you today...Sir” you add hastily.

“Assist me, huh? I hope this doesn’t involve any more coffee. I only have so many white shirts.”

“I’m so sorry again for that, Mr. Cuomo.”

“Don’t worry, kid” he says, now giving you a closer look. His eyes are a perfect shade of blue-green. The heat started creeping back in your face under his scrutizing gaze.

“You’re a Brit, aren’t you?”

You just give a quick nod, not trusting your ability to speak properly. He comes a step closer, arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

“Have a good start then, Y/N” he says, voice dropping a bit, still holding intense eye contact.

You feel your heart rate going through the roof and pray that he won’t detect it. This mans presence was really intense and brought all kind of distracting thoughts to your mind.

Your "Thank you so much, Sir” comes out way less confident than you intended to, and you basically flee through the office door you hadn’t even bothered to close when you entered.

“Wow!” you think to yourself, “It’s the first day, and you already made a fool of yourself and now have a giant crush on the lead anchor, who’s at least in his 40s. Good job.”

This was going to be interesting.

(Next Day, afternoon)

“Don’t stare, don’t stare.”

You chant your mantra in your head for what felt like the hundredth time this day.

The last 24 hours have been the most exciting, stressful and demanding ones of your entire life. You currently run on what feel like 5 liters of coffee, some energy bars and a two hour nap you managed to catch on the couch in the break room, the circumstances leaving you with a constant feeling of giddy exhaustion.

But no matter how much your eyes were burning, you couldn’t take them off Chris Cuomos hands. Those big, strong hands with thick fingers, holding manuscripts, fixing his tie or just opening a bottle of water. You try your best not to think about how those hands would feel like on your bare skin, grabbing your hair, pushing your tights apart. The burning feeling between your legs intensifies as you feel yourself starting to get wet.

Chris is wearing a black suit today and looks so unbelievably good that you want to cry. His confident, almost dominant demeanor in front of the cameras, combined with his sharp witted comments on the latest news only fuel your growing attraction to him.

Youre standing in the corner of the studio, holding a stack of papers and a clipboard with the latest numbers of some irrelevant county in Alabama that you need to hand over to the anchor desk.

The cameras move over to Phil on the magic wall. Chris uses the quick moment out of frame to stretch his arms above his head, his shoulder muscles clearly visible even through the suit jacket. You’re staring again. And he’s looking directly at you with a knowing smirk.

He caught you.

You feel your face flushing again and you quickly begin to shuffle through the papers in your hand in a poor attempt to appear busy.

“Thank you Phil, we’re taking a quick break now, stay with us.” Chris’ voice sounds through the studio. As soon as you made sure that the cameras are turned off, you hurry over to the anchor desk, putting down the fresh manuscripts with the latest numbers and restock the water bottles, all while trying your best to avoid Chris, still mortified that he caught you checking him out.

The commercial break only lasts about five minutes, so you quickly make your way to the studios supply cupboard to fetch some new water bottles. They were on the top shelf, just barely out of reach for you. You were already standing on your tiptoes, but no chance.

“Need any help with that?” a deep voice suddenly says right behind you. You startle, loosing your balance and fall right into the hard chest of Chris Cuomo. Strong arms sneak around you, steadying you. In that moment you become aware of the heat radiating from his huge form, his delicious smell of aftershave and coffee filling your senses.

Your pulse is like a hammer in your chest as he lets go of you, giving you the opportunity to turn around and face him.

“We really can’t have any normal interactions, Y/N?” he asks, studying you, again with that intense gaze and a little smirk.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Mr. Cuomo, I don’t know what’s up with me, I’m usually not that clumsy. Must be the lack of sleep.“ you ramble and try to return his stare, forcing your voice to sound steady and confident, something you weren’t feeling at all.

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind you falling into me at all.” He comes closer, his huge form filling out most of the tiny storage room. You take a small step back and feel the shelf behind you. You look to the floor, absolutely overwhelmed with the situation (and without a doubt, with a beet red face again) One of Chris‘ giant hands reaches out and turns your chin up to meet his eyes. His touch burns and tingles on your skin.

“I would appreciate it if you would look at me when I’m talking to you.“ he says in a intense and stern tone that sends a hot throb to your center and makes you take a sharp breath. You feel your nipples hardening under your blouse, wetness gathering in your pussy.

„Yes, of course, please forgive me, Sir.“ You look up to meet his eyes.

His pupils are dark and dilated as he lets out a deep, shuddering breath. The tension between you is almost palpable.

„Come to my office after the shift is over. Alone.“ he says and storms out of the storage room, leaving you behind in a horny, confused mess, waterbottles totally forgotten.

The next few hours are agonizing. Not only is the election a really tight race, your nerves are in a total frenzy because of what happened in the storage room. You keep replaying the interaction in your head and try your best to not stare over to where Chris was sitting, failing miserably every time. One time, your eyes meet his, but he just arches his eyebrows and looks back onto his laptop screen.

The dominance with which he had talked to you stood in a total contrast to the gentle touch of his fingers on your face. You are confused, and more turned on than you have ever been by anyone else.

You want to kiss him, want his hands all over your body, touching your naked skin, claiming you. Why does he want you to come tonhis office? The uncertainty was driving you crazy.

Time was creeping at such a slow pace, but finally the day shift is over. You ask an extremely tired looking Susan for a break which she begrudgingly grants you.

After quickly freshening up, you make your way through the empty hallway to Chris office, heart almost jumping out of your chest. What the hell was going to happen?

Straightening your blouse one last time, you knock on the door, waiting for the allowance to enter.

”Here goes nothing.”

Chris sits behind his desk, both suit jacket and tie hanging over the chair.He’s looking at you, as if he’s expecting you to make a move.

There was a prominent vein in his temple that became more noticeable the longer you stood there, failing to get a word out, hands trembling at your sides.

His shirt sleeves were turned up, and the view of his defined forearms sends a throb of want directly to your core. Finally, Chris breaks the silence and adresses you.

“Y/N, why are you here?”

His arms are crossed in front of his chest, accentuating his biceps. You just stand there, unable to move a single muscle.

He gets up from behind his desk and makes his way over to where you are, stopping directly behind you. A shiver goes down your spine because of the close proximity.

His next words are spoken with his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his hot breath against your cheek, his deep voice making the hair on your arms stand up.

“I asked you a question, little one. Answer me.”

You gathered every ounce of courage you had.

“I want you to touch me.”

He doesn’t move.

“Please, Sir.”

Suddenly, two strong hands grab your shoulders and spin you around.You stare directly into Chris’ face, his dark pupils are blown, there is a look of unhinged lust on his face.

A second later, his lips come crashing down on yours. The kiss isn’t gentle, all tongue and teeth and passion, making your head spin and your knees weak.

One of Chris hands sneaks around your back and grabs your ass, giving it a rough squeeze. You moan loudly as he holds you even closer, his hard bulge pressing against your abdomen. His big, hot body pushes you back against his desk and he effortlessly lifts you to sit on top of it.

Chris takes a step back, his large hands sprawled on your tights. You can feel the heat of his skin all the way through your trousers, the need to have him is so strong that you feel like your whole body is on fire.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, little one?” He says in low, throaty voice, holding your tights in a hard, almost bruising grip. “Staring at me, biting those pretty lips, undressing me with your eyes, making me hard every time. You’re just begging for it, aren’t you?”

He kisses you again, and starts to trail hot, wet kisses down your neck. You can’t focus, your hands clutching at his back, little gasps of pleasure coming out of your mouth.

“Yes, please, I need you” you exclaim, admitting what’s on your mind since the moment you saw him wearing that undershirt. His hands leave your tights and start opening the zipper of your trousers, pulling them down your legs in one smooth motion.

His hands are now roaming up and down your bare legs, slowly coming closer to the pool of heat and want between them.

“Oh my God, please touch me.” you beg, longing to finally feel his fingers on your aching pussy.

One of his large hands leaves your leg and gives you a hard smack on your ass, the pain causing you to utter a sharp cry and sending a pulse of heat straight between your legs.

“Ah, be polite, little one. Use your words and ask me properly for what you want.” Your face is burning, why was hearing this so incredibly hot?

“Please touch my pussy and fuck me, Sir, I need your cock.”

You can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. But this was an exceptional situation, and right now you’d say anything if it would result in Chris cock buried inside you.

He smiles a devious grin. “I wanted to do this since the moment you stepped into my office yesterday. Take off your panties, now.” he commands, giving you another slap on your ass.

While you’re hurrying to get rid of your underwear, he starts unbuckling his belt, opens his fly and takes out his cock. It’s long and hard, already leaking precum. You were in for a treat. He pulls a condom package out of his pocket and rolls the rubber over his length.

“Turn around and bend over” he said, you quickly obey and a moment later you feel one of his thick fingers parting your wet folds and entering you, while another finger rubs your aching clit. A needy whine breaks out of your mouth and you throw your head back in pleasure .“God, you’re already so wet for me, little one.” Chris groans, adding another finger.

You almost can’t take it anymore, feeling like you might go insane if he doesn’t fuck you right now.

“I need you in me, Sir, please” You’re begging now, totally beyond caring.

Chris removes his fingers, lines up his huge cock at your opening and starts slowly pushing in, inch by inch.He groans, grabbing your hips, and once he’s fully settled in your tight heat he starts a brutal, deep pace.

You let out a hiss as he stretches you and hold onto the desk, trying not fall over with the force of his powerful thrusts. The pleasure is overwhelming, his large cock filling you perfectly over and over again, a bruising grip on your hips, his deep voice groaning dirty things into your ear. You’re ability to form coherent sentences is long gone, only moans and short breaths are coming out of your mouth.

Behind you, Chris is breathing heavily as one of his hands reaches around you to rub your clit.

“Fuck, You feel so good baby, so fucking tight around my cock.” he swears as his thrusts are starting to become faster and more erratic.

His rubbing on your clit intensifies, and you can feel your climax approaching.

“Come for me baby, come on my cock.“ Chris leans forward, biting the tender the spot where your shoulder meets your neck.

Pleasure and pain surge through you as you hit your peak, Chris‘ name on your lips. You feel his body going stiff behind you, his grip on your hips tighening almost painfully as he finds his release with you.

For a while, the mix of both your ragged breaths is the only sound in the office, then Chris carefully pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness making you whimper.

Strong arms embrace you, and you hear a small chuckle as a kiss is being pressed to your neck.

But the gravity of what you’ve just done still hits you like a punch to the gut and you whirl around, eyes wide with shock, head still spinning from the intensity of your orgasm.

“Oh, oh no” you mutter to yourself, breathing heavily as you see your crumpled trousers and panties lying on the office floor along with several papers who fell from the desk during your activities. What did you do?

“Hey, hey, little one, calm down.” Chris says, sensing your anxiety right away. He cups your jaw and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your trembling lips. Your worry eases a bit as you kiss him back.

“How about you lie down on my couch and I go and get us snacks and something to drink. Maybe even some coffee?” he asks after pressing a final kiss to your head.

You manage a shaky nod and a small smile, looking up at Chris’ handsome face.

He flashes you a toothy grin, forehead still shining with a thin layer of sweat, his hair tousled.

He looks breathtaking.

“You’re staring again, Y/N.”

“I know.”

#chris cuomo #chris cuomo fanfiction #chris cuomo fic #chris cuomo x reader #cnnanchors #cnn anchors #i have too much time on my hands

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anotherbeingsworld · 4 years ago

Text

Bounded by the words.

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Summary: A momento from a patient lead to a new hobby for Casey, as it records the moment of their relationship.

A/N: It was an impulsive reaction, but.. I wanted to post something and this has been in my drafts for months. I actually have submitted this before, and I am posting this again since it is edited much better than before. Today is the 25th and, honestly... it is a hard date for me in a way. So, I am coping it with fics unfortunately, but... I wanted to post it for a while now and I had shown it to @bratzlahela before she went on hiatus; and nikka, this is for you and i miss you soo much ! This is a love letter AU which had been in my drafts for months now. I am also dedicating this fic to @mrs-raleighcarrera as a thanks for everything, <3 I have something planned later, I hope I manage to start it but... enjoy. 💜 (I noticed... my love for letters can be shown.. I am so sorry ;;)

Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices @jaxsmutsuo , @mvalentine , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @this-person-is-busy , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @choices-confessions ,@fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom @starrystarrytrouble, @kelseaaa ,@bratzlahela , @choicesficwriterscreations , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @arcticlumineer , @choicesstan1 , @aveeiro , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirl , @rookitcarrera (if you want to be removed or added, let me know 💜)

MY MASTERLIST

Casey is assigned to take care of 19-year old, Brianna who is diagnosed with a Gastroenteritis. As she walks in the room, Brianna was burying herself into a book. She smiled at the sight, as she tries to remember the last time she gets a chance to read a book herself. The title on the book caught her attention, with the minimalistic cover that certainly calms her eyes. ‘Bounded by The Words.’ The title says.

“Bounded by the words?” Casey said to capture her attention.

Brianna startled, as she drops the book down to her lap. Her eyes widen as she saw Casey there grinning at her.

“You scared me!” Brianna stated as she places her hands over her beating heart whilst Casey walks towards her.

“I’m sorry Bri, you looked like you were drowning in the book. I had to save you somehow.” She winks at her, as a smile appear on Brianna’s face.

“Ha ha ha, very funny doc.”

“So, what is the story about making you drowned in the pages?” Casey asked as she checks on her vitals.

“It’s a story of two lovers..”

“Typical.”

“Hey, I am talking here!”

“Alright, alright my lady.” Casey bows as she lets herself have fun with her.

“As I was saying, it is a story of two lovers who was bounded by a series of letters. They never really got a chance to see each other face-to-face as the man is apart of the world war before. Their communication only relies on letters, handwritten letters that caused their love to grow each day. Unfortunately, neither of them got their happy ending as the man sacrificed himself into the war leaving her a thousand letters behind as a reminder that he will always be there for her…” Brianna wipes a tear as she describe the book.

“Oh wow… that is really sad.” Casey felt her heart break a little from hearing Brianna talk about it.

“Yes, it is. I ended up crying every time I read it and this time is any different.”

“Can I take a look at it?” Casey asks her as she immediately pass the book to her.

“Maybe you should hold onto it, as a momento for taking care of me and keeping me company.” Brianna said with a small smile plastered on her face.

Casey’s eyes widen,

“It’s your favourite book Bri…”

“Don’t worry, I have a few more copies of it at home! You should keep it and maybe try read it at your free time. I know doctors don’t have much time to rest, so consider it as a self-care gift from your favourite patient, which is yours truly to you.” Brianna insists before Casey could return the book in her hands.

“My favourite patient? How did you guess?” Casey asked with amount of sarcasm in her voice causing both of them to break into laughter.

Both of them ended up talking for a little while, exchanging stories, a few hugs and a signature from Brianna aswell. Patients like Brianna, really reminds herself why she wanted to be a doctor in the first place. She loved helping people, saving lives, but she is also interested in knowing the stories of her patients. During her time at Edenbrook, she had met a lot of people with various backgrounds; a surfer, a lawyer who is living this world as she is. She always felt pleasure in knowing her patients, and Brianna is one of those patients that gives her the sign that she loves her job.

After finishing up her shift, Casey makes her way back to Bryce’s apartment as they often have sleepovers with one another. She makes her way to the apartment, where she was met with Keiki who was furiously typing on her (Bryce’s) computer as her brows furrowed in frustration. Casey immediately took off her coat and make her way to the couch, as Keiki perks her head up at her presence.

“What do you got there?” Keiki eyes the book she was holding as she sat down.

“It’s a gift from a patient, I think I am gonna absorb myself in some literary entertainment after those long shifts.” Casey said as she gets herself comfortable on the couch, she starts to read the book. After felt like an hour, she already had surpassed the 100th page.

The door opening pulled her out from the zone, as Bryce finally arrived from the hospital. Casey turn her head to the sound, and smiled as she saw him. Casey stands and give him a kiss on the cheek, guiding him to the couch where Keiki is still on the computer looking more ease than before.

“So, what did you guys do today?” Bryce asked as he placed an arm around Casey pulling her close to him.

“I am trying to finish up this darn assignment, and its just so hard! Why did I take computer science?” Keiki whined as Bryce lets out a small laugh.

“What did you do today Cas?” Bryce turns his gaze to her, as both of their eyes meet.

Casey smiled as she shows the book to Bryce.

“Bounded by the words? It sounds like a cliché rom-com if you ask me.” Bryce said as his eyes are on the book.

“Hey, I am a hopeless romantic and this book managed to play with my heartstrings!” Casey protested as she held the book like her life depends on it.

“Okay, okay…Enlighten me, tell me what is the interesting scenario you have come across in the book?” Bryce challenge her with a wink.

“Their entire love story consists of letters, and they never met yet they still love one another…” Casey felt herself gaze as she placed a dreamy look on her face as Bryce just shook his head.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night Cas.” He says as he placed a kiss to bring her back towards reality.

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

Casey suddenly felt herself to be inspired from the book, as she felt her heart hold on to the concept of writing love letters. It is midnight, as Casey felt herself feeling awake. She slowly makes her way out of Bryce’s hold as he was sleeping peacefully. She puts on one of Bryce’s shirts and heads out to the living room. She sat down on the floor, with a box full of stuff contains, coloured paper and a huge amount of pens. She smiles, as she proceeds.

My dearest Anastasia,

The darkened days had now befallen us, the roared of the enemy unmistakable. Where it’d be my last sacrifice in the name of thy country. The time has come for me to filled in my word, as I would let myself be pained from the death that followed me every day. Regrets washed over me, as this letter would be the final reminder, where life with you made it very much better. The warmth of your touch can still be felt, as our farewell was playing in my mind for the longest time, a needed farewell that kept me awake on one of these days, longing to be in your touch again. But, even in the depths of the darkest roads, you will always be in thy heart. Forever, and always.

Love,

Roland.

The one that started it all, the final letter of Roland Rosio to his long last love, Anastasia Luvielle as their love continues to grow even after the death of Rosio during the final battle. The inspiration that started it all.

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Dear Bryce,

It is our first date together despite the hundreds of times we went and spend our nights at Donahue. It is when we are, something. Something beautiful, as one would say it. The 21st night of September, was a date to remember; our first night out as something more. As a kid, I always imagined myself going to the ball with my very own Prince, as we dance the night away.

But, in this case… they were no prince, a dress, a castle, a glass slipper, heck there aren’t any pumpkins involved in the beginning of our story. It was a story of clumsiness, fairy lights and a whole platter of fries. An interesting combination one might say, as it started with grace and ended with a bag of loaded fries from a small vendor.

It was unique, as you told me your jokes as I would find myself getting red, as the sight of your sweet and smiley face. The way we danced around the circle, as the fairy lights were hanging above us, has been a permanent attachment in my mind.

Lights, Fries and Bryce? A perfect combination.

Love,

Casey.

The first of many has been recorded, as she slips it into a box. A small box which is going to be playing a huge role in her life moving forward. Bryce stops himself in his tracks, admiring the smile on her face before moving towards the living room. The memory of their days together, playing in his mind.

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Dear Bryce,

I don’t know where to start, I miss you. I miss everything about you and, I don’t know how long I can do this anymore . I always wondered why couples would fight over the littlest things and, I hoped that the fate won’t fall down to us, but…I was wrong. It felt like a downfall, and I regret yelling those words at you. You were never a burden, you were the light and I don’t know how I haven’t met you before. My life had changed with you, and it has change again, and… I miss you. I miss everything about you, your hugs, your silly jokes, the way you’d talk at the movies despite being shush away by the audience, especially you. I miss being able to hug you when I was happy, and…I am going to make this right.

Love, Casey.

The first fight, as there were words left unspoken. One of many that made were stained with her tears, as the sadness took over. Her life was different with Bryce, and she didn’t give up. She tried and tried, and tried and try again until one day, she did it right. Neither did he.

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Dear Bryce,

I can’t believe our time has come, we are finally getting married tomorrow! It is a common feeling of excitement to be a bride, and I am very excited for our adventure next. I always felt like you were the one with the huge benefit in doubt in myself, the day we meet in that locker room at Edenbrook. The first time I laid my eyes on you, it felt like I was going to meet a stereotypical male from a rom-com, but… you are different. A good type of different, you have been there for me since the very beginning.

You have seen through it all, and I am very lucky to be apart of your life. You have always been my number one support through the highs and the lows, and I am always going to be grateful for everything we have been through that lead us to this very moment. I am excited for our new beginning, I will see you soon.

Love,

Casey.

The day they become as one, where Casey Valentine and Bryce Lahela finally tied the knot after all these years. A new adventure awaits them, as a whole new life is looking them with a wide-smile. The ceremony was intimate, as all of their close friends and family members were invited. They got married at one of his favourite places, the beach. As they finally got their happily ever after.

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Dear Bryce,

I did it. WE DID IT! After all these years, we did it. I am finally pregnant, after all the negatives. We did it, and you are going to be a dad! I remember those days, you were telling me about teaching our kid surfing, and silently hoping they will follow your footsteps. Our dreams have been granted, and I am truly ecstatic! The feeling of being a parent had lingered on my mind since early on, and… I am beyond grateful to be on this journey with you.

Baby Lahela is 3 months strong, mommy and daddy can’t wait to see you soon. I can’t wait for all of the new memories we are going to make together. We love you daddy!

Love,

Casey.

After a few years of marriage, and trying… they finally did it. Both of them starting a new adventure with their little bundle of joy, the first adventure with the little Lahela. And, they were very excited for it.

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‘Dad, what is these letters?’ Louis asked in fascination, as he finished reading one of Casey’s letters after all these years.

A smile appeared on his face, remembering the memories from years ago. The day Casey starts to become obsessed over a piece of literature that changed their lives one way or another.

‘Mom loves to write letters, and these is all of hers. She writes it every time we are happy, sad, angry and everything in between. I never understood the purpose of it all, and your mother tends to get emotional over the littlest things and, she still managed to blow me away every time…’ He lets out a sigh, rereading the final letter in the pile. It was written a few days ago.

Dear Bryce,

We have been through it all, am I right? It has been 25 or maybe more years, since our first meeting and I can’t believe it has been that long. We have done an amazing job together, and I am very very proud of what we had achieved all these years. You have been an amazing dad to our little ones, who is not so little anymore. Our little Louis, is our astronomer now, I still remember the first time we were giving him a bath, he was a quiet baby but with a lot of determination and a gold heart, just like his father. Our little girls Kailani and Alexandra, has managed to follow in our footsteps, even though we warned them about the stress and pressure of med school along with warnings from our dear friends, and I can’t believe they did it. They were always so smart, and I can’t say how proud of I am of our little angels. Bryce, you have been my rock, my best friend, my lover, my partner and… I will always cherish you in my heart. You are the first person who never gave up on me, and… life with you, has been the best chapter in my life. You have made me a better person, you have seen me in my lowest and you didn’t left. You were there through thick and thin, and I love you for it. I will never forget the day where we said, the three words. The day where our life started to change every day. You have given me unconditional love and care, you have made my life the way it is today. My mom, always wondered how I came across someone like you before, and I would laugh; fate brought us together and Edenbrook was the start of it all.

Unfortunately, some stories would come to an end. And, the end of mine is coming very soon; take care of the kids, and tell them that mom is very proud of them. My love, you had made me the happiest and… even in the depths of the darkest roads, you will always be in thy heart. Forever, and always.

Yours,

Casey Lahela.

The end of the letter, the one line that started it all, as a small smiled appear on his face despite the tears falling down on his cheeks. Alexandra and Keilani made their way as they pulled Bryce into a deep hug, letting their sorrows take over breaking every façade that they had. Louis joins in too, as they stood there together, as a family. Her memories were playing in his mind, a recording of every sense from their little time together made it into the highlight as, the letters felt like a metaphor, a feeling somehow she is there with them, looking down with a huge smile. A smile of satisfaction, as a chance to finally let herself go.

‘I will always love you Casey. Forever and always.’ He whispered slowly, as their life story was flashed through his eyes which is the best moments of his life.

THE END.

#playchoices #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #casey valentine #open heart #open heart second year #anotherbeingsworldwrites #choices fic writers creations #fics #bryce oh #bryce x f!mc

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letsperaltiago · 4 years ago

Text

one single thread of gold tied me to you

From the very first time Jake mentions her name, Karen sees a thread of gold tying him to Amy. In other words: a series of small moments in which Jake is talking to Karen about Amy.

Jake talking to Karen about Amy throughout their relationship

Read here or on AO3

The new girl

“Anything exciting happening at work?”

“Nah,” Jake halts, pausing to think between bites of the dinner Karen has prepared for the two of them. Because he’s the only child (and the fact that he’s a huge momma’s boy) he tries to stop by Karen’s once a week. Either for a quick chat and a coffee or longer. If the latter includes dinner, which it often does, then it’s always a huge plus. Tonight’s visit is one of the longer ones, much needed, and of course dinner is a must.

“Or,” he takes back his prior dismissal. “Like, this new girl joined the squad last week, so that’s… exciting, I guess?”

Karen’s head perks up letting her son know that she’s indeed listening.

“Well that’s always a good thing. What’s her name?”

By then Jake is already busy chewing on another bite of her mom’s baked potatoes - a personal favorite of his. Then again any food his mom makes is his favorite.

“Amy Santiago. She seems cool enough, I guess. Then again she just arrived so I guess I’ll have to see.”

Although the world, more specifically Jake, isn’t aware of it yet, the spinning of his and Amy’s golden thread commences its journey here. Karen smiles to herself as this, she realises, is the perfect opportunity for her to pick a bit on her son who’s never shy of teasing her. Lovingly, of course.

“Maybe she’s cool enough to date?”

The statement immediately interrupts his before eager chewing, a press on his entire body’s pause button, and earns Karen a deadpan expression as answer to her so-called proposition.

“Mom, please.”

There’s small smile on his face as he knows his mom is out to pester him. “Charles already went all Cupid on us when she arrived, so the last thing she needs is me hitting on her. Plus,” he’s back to being chewing on a mix of potatoes and meat, “I don’t even know her.”

“Well that’s just a matter of time, honey.”

Having nothing else to add he figures a shrug must be answer enough.

“Anyways,” he looks back up from his plate to his mother. “How’s Carla?”

Rivalling close friends

For her son’s birthday Karen has invited the squad over to her place for a celebratory dinner. At this point, since they’re good at dropping by if they’re ever in her neighbourhood or nearby for work, she’s familiar with most of the people Jake spends 95% of his time with - this with an exception of Amy and Holt.

They’re setting the table while Jake gives her one last quick rundown of the 99th precinct’s squad, so Karen is sure of who the different people are.

“… And Amy, besides Holt, is the last one to have joined the squad. She’s that super neat, kinda annoying one, I’ve told you about. You know, the one who tells me that I can’t eat in her car, and constantly corrects my grammar.”

“I thought you liked her?” He can’t see tell, since he’s busy setting the table, but Karen frowns finding it unlikely that her son suddenly has something against a colleague he most of the time spoke so highly of.

“I do, mom and that’s what’s so annoying. She’s the worst and best of all worlds...” He pauses in the middle of putting down a plate giving himself some time to turn over his thoughts. “… I mean, she probably is my best friend at this point, besides Charles, yanno? But please don’t tell him I said that. His little heart can’t take it.”

“Because of jealousy or because he’s dying to see you and Amy together?”

“Both,” Jake chuckles shaking his head in disbelief of the fact that he puts up with this situation daily.

Karen knows Jake’s “brother from another mother”, how the little man had introduced himself the first time she met him, very well and can’t hold back a chuckle at the very vivid mental picture of a both jealous but also over the moon Charles.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

It brings an even wider smile to his face upon seeing his mother pretending to lock her lips and throw away an invisible key. Okay, maybe his mom is his best friend, but Amy and Charles are a close second.

Sadly Amy has fallen sick and never makes it to the birthday dinner, but upon arrival Rosa hands him a pretty gift bag with a tiny card and impeccable handwriting that says: Happy birthday, Pineapples ;) Inside the bag he finds the limited edition Die Hard 2: Die Harder-poster that had smashed his heart to pieces when someone had outbidded him for it on eBay. Little had he known it was Amy, sitting just a few feet away by her desk opposite of him, who’d outdone his bid with a sly smirk on her face. A smile which she could hide behind the big computer screen.

The smile on his face is impossible to hide and he immediately sends her a text:

‘ur gift made me die hard!!! guess ur not so bad after all ;) all kidding aside thank u so much and get well soon <3’

Later that night after everyone has left, he’s helping his mom cleaning the kitchen. Suddenly she hands over a homemade doggy bag with leftovers from the dinner.

“Don’t you think sweet, sick Amy deserves this after the gift she gave you?”

Her smirk doesn’t go unnoticed.

Jake of course agrees and later, on his way home, he drops it off at Amy’s place. It being late and not wanting to wake her up, he leaves it on her doorstep and sends her a text for her to see whenever she wakes up:

‘the bag on ur doorstep is not a bomb but a care package from mother peralta. hope ur feeling better but if u dont can i have your desk at work?’

A few days later Karen texts him a picture of a beautiful thank you card with the infamous, neatly Santiago style-written message thanking her for the thoughtful gesture. Jake smiles to himself and replies with a simple: ‘shes a good 1’

Unconsciously developing feelings

He never explicitly tells her. Still, Karen has her suspicions and they only grow every time her son mentions Amy’s name. Sooner rather than later it becomes very clear to her: her son would go to great lengths for his partner - even though he isn’t ready to acknowledge it yet.

“Mom, there’s no way I’m losing my car to her. I’m gonna take her on a date and she’s going to hate it and i’m going to love it- I mean… love her misery,” he corrects himself.

Karen is leaning against the doorframe to his still unaltered childhood bedroom, where Jake is currently rummaging through boxes containing a mix of childhood memories, dust and worthless nick-nack.

“You don’t happen to still have those old pictures of me and Jenny Gildenhorn, do you? I want to find an exact replica of Jenny’s hideous blue dress to torture Amy with.”

Knowing of Jake’s repressed, yet to be realised feelings, because a mother does know best, Karen rolls her eyes. He doesn’t notice. Probably because he has his head buried under his bed looking for more boxes and childhood treasures. Telling him to look for acknowledgement of his feelings for Amy while he’s down there is almost too tempting, but Karen manages to bite her lip. Hopefully he’ll see it himself one day… Or just keep talking the way he already does about her, even when complaining; it’s always with some kind of admiration. Karen sees the little twinkles in his eyes whenever the raven haired detective is brought up in a conversation.

To Amy’s sheer luck, Karen of course has loads of childhood pictures stored in a box in the garage and she gets to sit by knowingly as Jake searches multiple internet websites for the most horrible, blue, 80s dress possible. “Oh, mom… She’s going to hate this so much. Amazing.”

She doesn’t say anything but smiles knowingly as her son sits on her couch, laptop in his lap, a boyish smile telling her that he is up to no good as he plans the (best) worst date for his “just a good friend”.

Pining

Everything seems harder at the moment. At least harder than what he’d like, Jake thinks to himself as he lies in bed, feeling tipsy from the few beers he had a Shaw’s. He knows he should just sleep but for some reason he can’t. Instead he tortures himself by staring at the ceiling which is definitely spinning - just a tiny bit though, he tries to convince himself.

He’s just come back from being undercover, and although it was kind of fun and definitely exciting in more ways than one, deep down inside he can’t deny that a tiny part of him had hoped Amy by now would give them a chance. It’s not that he’d expected her to break up with Teddy for him - it was her life to control after all. Not his. Although there was no shame in dreaming; dreaming that she’d welcome him back to the 9-9 with a slow motion run and kiss that would blow them both away, telling him that Teddy and his pilsners were out of the picture and that they belonged together; all this time they’d been destined to belong to no one else but each other.

Alas this wasn’t the case and he returned from the mafia to a:

“I’m still with Teddy.”

The short sentence plays over and over in his head like a broken record he can’t turn off. The worst soundtrack of his life - without a doubt. Suddenly his phones rings, interrupting his spiralling thoughts.

“Hi, Mom,” he mumbles not hiding the fact that he’s exhausted, physically as well as mentally, and tipsy.

“Hi, honey. How did your first day back go?”

“It was... fine. Good to see everyone.”

Good to see Amy, Karen thinks before she does a double take when she picks up on her son’s voice clearly representing a moody side of him she, or anyone, rarely gets to see.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing, It’s-” he starts out not wanting to get into it, because feelings are messy and he always ends up being the hurt one anyways… But on the other hand, he thinks, his mom will figure out either way - if she hasn’t already. Perhaps his lack of soberness also takes part in his sudden honesty.

“Amy,” he sighs.

“Is everything all right with her?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. I just-” he pauses. “She’s with this guy and-”

“You wish she wasn’t?” Karen beats him to it and finishes the sentence for him.

“Yeah or- I don’t know. I want her to be happy but...” he sounds utterly defeated to a point that hints at teary, she can tell even though she can’t see him. In that moment Karen wants nothing more than hug her little boy. “I really like her, mom.”

His voice never breaks entirely but it’s a fine line he’s walking throughout the entire conversation. Everything pours out of him; he’s a book of sentimental secrets opening up about his Achilles’ heel for the first time and all his mother can do is listen as he describes his favorite parts of Amy (which is pretty much everything): everything from the way her dark ponytail swings back and forth with purpose when she walks to a crime scene to how, when they’re out drinking with the squad, she always get him a beer whenever she gets up to get herself one.

It’s almost as if the spinning of the golden thread, still unknown to the world, between him and Amy is slowly choking him.

“I want her to be happy, mom… I just-” he almost dozes off before finishing the sentence but fights through it and it’s all at once incredibly endearing and heartbreaking to Karen who’s still listening from her end of the line.

“... I just wish she would be happy with me instead.”

New couple

It’s truly unbelievable. Jake can’t believe he’s about call his mom to tell her: tell her that he’s with Amy now.

It’s been a month now; a month of him being with Amy and being so very happy he still can’t believe he’s been spending all this time not feeling like this. However, not wanting to rush things or put any pressure on either of them, simply enjoying being together, no one else but the squad knows about them.

Them. Him and Amy. A thing.

Just thinking about him and Amy that way, it almost makes him dizzy of pure disbelief. There had been so much buildup, such a long history of back and forth, bad timing, but all that aside now here they were. Amy Santiago was his girlfriend. Maybe that is the thought that causes his heart to take on a way too quick beating pattern and the hand holding his phone to become clammy. Now is the time though and he doesn’t hesitate to hit his mom’s contact. It rings. Jake can clearly hear his heart thump loudly against his ribcage. Should he be this nervous?

One time.

Two times.

Thre-

“Hi, honey,” his mom’s warm chipper voice interrupts the monotone ringing instantly making his lips spread into a small smile and heart take a break from the irrational thumping.

“Hey, mom,” he starts pacing around his apartment in attempt of diverting all the energy and emotions rushing through him, unconsciously bringing him everywhere from his bed to his kitchen.

“So it’s actually been a little while now… And I haven’t said anything since I didn’t want to rush anything but,” he cuts the sentence in two with a deep breath. “So, like… Amy and I are dating... together... her and I,” he starts rambling and wow he really should’ve written this down first. Karen doesn’t let it go on for too long though too excited to not say anything.

“Honey, I’m so so happy for you two! And it was about time that you finally told me!”

Jake’s pacing stops on the spot.

“What do you mean “finally”?”

“Oh, Jake... Sometimes I think you forget that mothers know everything. Plus you’re not very good at hiding… bruises,” she clears her throat, emphasizing what she’s really saying while imagining her son blush on his end of the line. “Also you’ve been visiting less and less, which means someone else has to take up your time.Someone who is even cooler than your very own mom, someone who makes you this gitty and nervous to talk about… It had to be her you were calling about.”

The smile in her voice is clear as day, but Jake is still baffled trying to come up with an explanation or the very least a decent answer. There is none, he quickly abandons the plan and instead lets out a happy huff.

“She’s really cool, mom. So cool. The last month has been like… the best. I don’t know how else to describe it. She’s the best.”

Compared to the defeated and heartbroken man she spoke to all those months ago, after his return from being undercover, this is a whole new version of her son that she’s longed to see. Karen can’t physically see him but can still clearly tell he’s flipped the page and is taking on a better chapter of his life.

Early relationship

It’s another night at his mom’s. Although the motivation behind the visit is a tiny bit different than usual this time. Sure, they’re gonna talk and have a nice dinner prepared by Karen as per usual, although tonight the mother has to nurse a whiny Jake who’s missing his dear but very out of town for the week-girlfriend. And the experience feels… mixed.

“Dinner is ready!”

No response.

She looks up from where she’s just carefully put down a sizzling pan to see her son back against the one arm of her armchair with his legs svung over the other. Physically he might be close but mentally he’s so far away, clearly more focused on whatever is going on on his phone’s screen.

“Jake,” she tries again but rather than giving his mother a reply Jake start typing as if nothing or noone was within miles of him. Karen can’t help but feel like she’s raising a teenager all over again, a teenager with the attention span of a goldfish, although this time her son is actually in his late 30s, lives by himself and has a girlfriend. So little yet so much has changed about him.

“Jacob,” she tries with her more more stern voice. She knows what he’s doing, texting Amy, and even though it’s cute he needs to snap out of it. At least for long enough to eat. He finally reacts and looks in her direction. Realization hits him which immediately prompts him to push himself out of the seat.

“If you stop eating you won’t even be alive to see her when she comes back.”

He deserves to be teased, he figures.

“I’m sorry. It was a text from Amy and I just wanted to reply right away. I just really miss her, I guess... and this is the closest we’ll get to talking today since she’s busy with her family, so...”

He leaves his phone behind on the coffee table, implicitly letting his mother know she’s got his (somewhat) full attention from now on.

“It’s so weird. We’ve only been together for like...” he counts in his head. “... 5 months now, but I already can’t stand being away from her for too long. Am I insane?” he drops down into his usual seat by the dinner table, almost in defeat but Karen is quick to rescue him in his moment of overdramatic despair.

“No you’re not, I assure you.”

Karen grabs his hand to stroke it comfortingly. She knows her son didn’t mean to be rude, didn’t mean to ignore her and she loves how much he’s opened up about his emotions since getting together with Amy.

“It’s a good sign that you care so much, but just remember that distance makes the heart grow fonder and it’ll feel even better when she comes back… and until then you can let your old mom entertain you.”

They share a chuckle because they both know what that means.

“Did you get ice cream?” he asks.

“Strawberry, chocolate chip and cookie dough… and to top it off: Die Hard is ready to play the second we’re done eating and doing the dishes.”

It’s a little tradition of theirs: their shared comfort snack plus movie-combo.

“You know me so well,” Jake smiles almost forgetting about missing Amy.

If not for the rest of the week then at least for a couple of hours.

Going steady

This week is a a lot different from the usual. While it’s not every single week they actually manage to see each other or even get the time to talk, Karen knows for sure that she won’t hear from her son for at least a couple of days. Jake is away on a cruise with Amy, and so besides the few pictures he’s texted her of them eating shrimp in bed (she wonders how he talked Amy into that) and a huge seagull stealing some of Amy’s fries, Karen doesn’t expect a whole lot of her son’s attention that week.

Which is why she is extremely surprised when her phone rings, her son’s picture and name displayed on her phone, in the middle of the night. Yes, the element of surprise is of course due to the fact that she knows he’s busy being away with Amy, but also much due the time at which he calls.

01:21

A mother’s undeniable fear and worry for her child never goes away, no matter how old said child is, and it now creeps in making her fear that the worst has happened. What could possibly lead him to call this late? She frantically grabs her phone from her night stand.

“Jake, it’s in the middle of the night. Is everything okay?” She doesn’t mean to come off as accusing but she’s definitely trying to get to the bottom of the mystery right away.

“I love her.”

It falls from his lips, very out of nowhere, and it’s hard to tell within what context it is to be interpreted. Interlacing with his voice is the sound of crashing waves and a strong breeze making Karen wonder where her son finds himself.

“Honey, what do you mean? Where are you?”

Maybe she should’ve understood right away, it was obvious, but not only was she sleeping just seconds ago but the background noise on his end of the line only makes the whole scene way more confusing than it already is.

He breathes, out of breath almost as if he’s been running. “I’m outside. On the deck. And I love her, mom.”

“The deck?”

“No,” he pauses catching his breath. “Amy. I told her… Or she told me first and then I told her back. Nothing has ever felt more right.”

That makes way more sense, Karen thinks although still quite unsure of exactly why he’s calling her. All that aside her heart is flooded with happiness, when she realises her son is not out of breath from running or crying, but rather all the emotions he must be feeling.

“Aw, Jake. I’m so happy for you. I know how much she means to you.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah… You’ve changed so much throughout your relationship with Amy and it’s only for the better. You were already wonderful, you’re my son after all, but she brings out so much more good in you. This was only a matter of time. I think you’ve loved her for longer than you think.”

Another silence allows the crashing waves and whistling night wind to make an appearance. Following words almost fall off his lips in a tremble but Karen can tell it’s because he’s moved and is trying to collect himself, his emotions and thoughts. This is a big step for him - she knows.

“I have. And I don’t think I wanna stop again.”

Their talk lasts a few more minutes; just long enough for Jake to explain that he couldn’t sleep, too excited about the fact that he loved Amy Santiago and, even better, she loved him! Instead of staying in bed, restless and thus risking waking up Amy, he’d carefully disentangled himself from his girlfriend’s grip and decided to go for a night stroll. Next thing he knew he was calling his mom’s number.

“I should probably go, mom. I don’t want Amy to wake up alone.”

They say their goodbyes and when Karen finally gets to meet his daughter-in-law a few weeks later, at Jake’s chaotic birthday dinner, she is even more sure: their golden thread is so very strong.

Moving in together

The first time Karen visits Jake and Amy’s apartment (the words still make his stomach twist and turn with excitement every time he says it or even thinks it), Amy is out getting groceries for the dinner they’ll all be preparing together.

Jake proudly gives his mom a full apartment tour explaining where he’s added his Peralta-touch to the household while still praising his girlfriend’s taste in interior design. She has to laugh at the huge Die Hard poster discreetly hung on the inside of their closet door. Framed pictures of the couple together hung and standing around the apartment only makes Karen’s heart melt even more.

“How are you guys liking living together so far?”

They’re in the kitchen, Jake is preparing them both a cup of coffee.

“I mean, we already took constant turns crashing at the other’s place so it doesn’t feel that brand new, but still…” he pauses to smile and pours his mother a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee before continuing. “This is so much better. We share a home now. She is officially my home now, yanno?”

“I’m proud of you, Jakey,” Karen playfully ruffles her son’s curly hair, something she rarely gets to do but still immensely enjoys every time. It reminds her of when he was still a little kid and hits her with just how far he’s become. She’s not just proud: she’s so proud.

“Plus, now I get to annoy her 24/7, which is great,” he laughs and Karen playfully pinches his ear.

“Be nice to her, Jacob,” she’s chuckling too.

“I am! Our relationship is practically built on a foundation of pestering and messing with each other. Trust me; she loves it.”

Prison

“Amy… I miss her so much.”

As if the fact that her son has been wrongly accused and is facing 15 years in prison isn’t agonizing enough, Karen also has to suffer the pain it causes her to hear her son cry out to her over the very rare phone calls they get these days.

“When I say I’m afraid of never getting out of here-” he heaves between fallen, sobbed words; sobbed words which Karen knows he tries to subdue in order to not show the other inmates weakness. But it’s hard; impossible. “It’s mostly because I’m afraid of not seeing her again. Every time she visits-,” a sniffle “I’m always afraid that it’s the last time I see her. And all I wanna do is kiss her and hold her, but i just- I can’t. I miss her so so much, mom.”

Karen’s heart breaks alongside her son’s, even hours and miles between them, tears rolling down her red cheeks. She knows she has to be strong for him, and that it’s harder for him than for herself. Denying the ache and fear in every cell of her body is impossible though… But she has to keep her head up for him.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” Karen forces herself to stop crying when she speaks and will instead let the tears fall freely whenever he can’t hear it. “The squad is doing everything they can to get you out.”

“I know... “ he takes a deep breath and Karen can tell he’s trying to collect himself for good this time. “H-how is she?”

For a split second Karen considers lying, not telling him that she’s spent multiple nights consoling a crying Amy and even sleeping over at their place when the young woman was too tired to take care of herself. She considers telling him she’s fine, but she knows it’s pointless: Jake and Amy are two open books who tell each other everything. Just like Amy knows Jake has never been more afraid and seeks hope in every second he gets to be with or even just talk to her, Jake knows Amy is struggling though she’s a trooper and tries to fight through it as seamlessly as possible.

“I visited her on Wednesday and…” Karen bites her lip but eventually a sigh escapes her. “You know how she feels... It’s hard for both of you. But she’s strong, honey and she manages. And on the days where she can’t, I’m there with her. I promise.”

Silence.

He’s holding back tears again.

“I love you both, mom. So so much. You two are what is going to get me through this.”

“I love you too, Jacob.”

Their golden thread might be strained, but now is time for it to show its strength.

Engaged

He can’t put it into words, at least not properly, because how does one describe how it feels to be the happiest man alive? How does one describe such a wide, complex, incredible range of emotions? It’s impossible.

Instead he settles for a text.

It’s truly comical but also very much them: a picture of Amy in the evidence locker, still partially crying although of course also smiling as she shows off the shiny ring on her finger. It’s followed by the message:

‘MOM, I’M MARRYING HER!!!’

Later that night, tipsy after celebrating at Shaw’s, Jake and Amy facetime Karen. It’s safe to say that she gets a good laugh at 3-drink Amy showing off her new, favorite bling while Jake is all over her, placing small kisses to various parts of her face.

“Okay, you two... I’m going to hang up before this goes beyond a PG-rating. Once again congratulations. I love you both and can’t wait to see you soon.”

Married

Bomb threats, ruined cakes and a lost veil are just a few of the things that go horribly wrong on Jake and Amy’s wedding day.

Now, a few weeks later, all these tiny disasters seem to be long forgotten, almost as if they’d never happened.

“... But in the end we’re married and that’s all that matters,” Jake finishes telling his mother the tale of their chaotic but incredibly beautiful and unique wedding which was followed by a PG-rated version of their trip to Mexico.

The three of them are taking up the space of Karen’s living room as they chat and drink their usual coffee. Jake’s arm is slung around his new wife’s shoulders, fingers interlaced with a happiness and peace that warms the mother’s heart. Compared to the anxiety and sadness they all experienced during Jake’s time in Florida and then later on in prison, this moment in time is a major contrast. It’s a moment which Karen at times had feared she’d never be able to witness ever again. Yet here they were, the three of them together in the same room and Jake looked happier than ever. He was married to the love of his life, showing off a warm glow that he could thank both happiness and the Mexican sun for.

“I’m so happy for you two. It was always meant to be this way.”

Karen beams just as much as the married couple, feeding off the pure bliss they display in each other’s company. Amy perks up at the comment growing curious.

“Always?” she questions with a smile.

“The second he told me that the new girl was “pretty cool”, I knew something was meant to happen.”

Jake feels blood rushing to his cheeks even though said new girl is now his wife.

“Aw, babe,” Amy turns to him flashing a teasing grin. Every opportunity to tease must be put to good use. “I can’t believe you’ve been into me for so long. How embarrassing for you.”

“Hey!” He whines and it’s clear to see that he’s trying to fight the blush and embarrassment alas it’s already way too late. ”Be nice to your husband, Mrs. Peralta.”

“Not my fault that you’re so into me, Mr. Peralta.”

There’s a short pause in the conversation where Jake realises there’s no way out unless he uses her own teasing ways against her.

“I’m a lucky man… I guess,” he counters playfully and it earns him a just as playful slap to the shoulder.

“You guess?”

Amy is quick to pull away although doesn’t allow their fingers to untangle while she sends him a mock-pout.

“Be nice, Jake.”

Karen loves her son but will also, at any given time, take Amy’s side before his. Jake came to learn this the second he introduced the two women and they started gossiping about him. He would care to mind if it wasn’t for the fact that there was nothing better than his two favorite women getting along so well.

“I’m joking, babe,” he loses no time and before Amy can add anything he’s pulled her back into the nook of his arm, adding a kiss the top of her head - just for good measure (and because he’s crazy about her). “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Their golden thread has tied an everlasting knot.

Trying

Jake and Amy trying for a baby had been such a joyous announcement, and Karen will never forget the proud look on her son’s face the day he told her. Although tonight, said proud and happy expression is long gone, forgotten and dissolved by the many months of planning, trying and holding on to their hope.

Jake is once again, as so many times before, on his mother’s sand-colored couch with warm coffee in hand but this time with a look of despair painted across his pale face. While she’s been getting cookies in the kitchen he’s fallen into deep thought and doesn’t say anything for a while. Even after she comes back and sits down across from him. The silence might be needed, Karen thinks and, of course, respects it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t shake her to the core when the next thing he says seems to question every ounce of happiness he’s ever lived.

“What if all along I’ve been the wrong choice? A bad choice.”

His eyes doesn’t budge from the same spot, an old coffee stain on the couch, he’s been staring emptily at for the past minutes. Even as he speaks.

“What if she was supposed to be with someone else. Someone who can give her the family she wants… the family she deserves.”

It doesn’t even sound like a question at this point but rather a horrible fact he states in a moment of frustration and agony, and it ignites a fury within the mother because she knows it’s his anxiety and fear of abandonment speaking. She knows that their love is way bigger than that.

Things are far from easy right now. On the other hand Karen hasn’t witnessed them fight and overcome every obstacle imaginable, everything from a stupid mattress to being sent away to both Florida and prison, only to come to this. This isn’t the tip of the thread. A golden thread isn’t spun without reason. It’s spun for the fated.

“Has Amy ever made a bad choice?” she asks.

For the first time in a long time Jake actually looks at his mom. He pauses but she knows he doesn’t have to think. Karen knows that in his eyes Amy can do no wrong.

“No… I just-”

“Okay, so do you honestly think that her wanting and fighting for a baby with you is a bad choice? Even if it doesn’t come easy.”

There’s another silence, longer this time, which hopefully means that something resonates inside his head even though Karen knows it’s a dark and confusing place right now.

“No, I guess…”

“No, don’t say “you guess”. You know, Jake Peralta. You love Amy and she loves you. I know it seems like life keeps on throwing you curveballs and I wish it wasn’t so, but trust me when I say that it’s not because it’s a wrong or bad choice. You being with Amy is the best, most right doing I’ve ever witnessed, and I’m so proud of it. Stop doubting yourself. Your love is too good for that. You’re too good for that, honey.”

Her voice had started out a bit rough, just to make sure to get her point across, but by her the last sentence it has grown soft like butter and Jake can’t help but fall into his mother’s arms. He knows she’s right and it’s in moments like these that, moments where he wants to give up, he’s glad to have her to fight off his demons.

“I just want to give her everything she deserves, mom,” he mumbles into her shoulder, still holding on for dear life; so closely that Karen swears she can feel his heart breaking against her chest. “And I know I’ve been hesitant about it in the past, but now I just-”

Karen feels him let go of her and straighten his back. His eyes are shiny and there’s so much hope but also hurt in them.

“... I really want to be a dad. I really do. And then I wanna do it right.”

Karen knows what he’s hinting at and the sentiment is so valid even though she’s back together with Roger and their father-son relationship has grown stronger.

“You will be, honey. One way or another,” she whispers and reaches out to stroke his cheek. “And you will be the best. I promise you.”

Pregnant

Mother knows best, Jake can’t help but think on the magical evening Amy tells him the best thing he’s ever heard: she’s pregnant. The world seems to flourish around him like never before.

Of course the first person he wants to tell is his mom, but him and Amy quickly agree on keeping the amazing news to themselves, or at least until their baby has hit the safety that the 12-week mark comes along with.

Until then Jake and Amy plan on how to break the news to Karen (and Roger, of course) and Jake almost can’t believe it when the day finally arrives. Their 12-week check was just yesterday, and to everyone’s relief and joy their baby is growing as they should and thriving in their mother’s womb. They both shed a tear and ask for an extra set of ultrasound pictures to give to the future grandparents - both on his and Amy’s side.

During dinner with Karen and Roger the following day, Jake is on the verge of bursting, yelling out the news the very second his parents arrive. Although a humbling squeeze of the hand from his wife keeps him in check until dessert. Here the hand squeeze feels different and Jake knows now is the time.

“By the way,” Jake gets up and heads to the kitchen to get another tub of ice cream. “We have a little extra surprise for dessert…”

Roger and Karen frown in unison as both of them are yet to finish what’s already in their respective bowls. Jake ignores it and comes back with a tub of…

“Lime ice cream?” Roger asks, clearly confused by the very specific flavour.

“I didn’t even know that was a thing,” Karen chuckles, always being the one to lighten the mood.

“Well,” Jake smiles with content as he sits back down. “I promise you: you don’t wanna skip this part. It’s the best.”

And so of course Karen is quickly hands on, pulls off the lid and is ready to dig in with her spoon but halts the second she gets to take a good look at the bucket’s content: a small piece of paper. Neither her or Roger understand a thing, and being too preoccupied by their confusion they fail to notice the wide grins on the other couple’s faces.

Karen takes the leap and digs out the picture quickly noticing something scribbled onto it with neat handwriting - Amy’s, of course.

Hi, grandma and grandpa. I’m now 12 weeks old and the size of a lime! I can’t wait to meet you <3

Karen feels her heart skip a bit, maybe even stop entirely for multiple seconds and looks to Jake and Amy for some kind of approval or… she’s not even sure of what. All she’s sure of is that she’s on the brim of exploding. Her son nods biting down on his bottom lip in excitement, and when she flips the piece of paper she’s met by the most wonderful picture she’s ever seen: their future grandchild, tiny as can be, in black and white, and completely perfect.

Karen tears her eyes away from her grandchild to look at her son to be met by his almost trembling voice and shiny eyes.

“Good thing my mom was right when she told me that I would be a dad some day.”

Jake’s eyes are so sincere with tears threatening to spill as he holds his mother’s gaze talking directly to her, and it’s safe to say there’s waterfall’s worth of happy tears that evening.

Welcoming mac

The day Mac is born Jake feels as if his heart is suddenly beating and living outside of his chest in the shape of his son. There’s so much love even before their son officially arrives, but nothing can possibly top the feeling of holding him in his arms feeling the infant’s hand wraps around Jake’s thumb. Love is shooting through the roof and up to the moon. Never before has Jake felt so much love for someone’s he’s just met before and it’s scary in the best way.

He’s sitting in an armchair by Amy’s hospital bed, his wife fast asleep after the most exhausting hours of her life, when the door to their room pops open. He doesn’t even bother looking up at first as he’s too busy gazing lovingly at the bundle of love in his arms.

“Oh my goodness.”

Jake head perks up immediately recognizing the sound of his mother’s voice. By now she’s closing the door behind her, quietly.

“Hi, mom. Come say hi.”

Karen can hear his smittenness in his voice and sits down on a smaller chair next to him to better see her brand new grandson. It’s immediately clear as day that the newest Peralta is the perfect mix of both parents. Chubby cheeks, dark hair, full lips and a nose she’s gonna want to kiss over and over again.

“Meet McClane. Mac for short,” Jake informs her stroking his son’s chubby cheek.

“It’s perfect,” Karen clucks and follows suit stroking Mac’s other cheek. “He’s beautiful, honey. You must be so proud. I know I am.”

For various obvious reasons Jake has always struggled with acknowledging pride - even when he’s clearly felt it, he’s found it difficult to say it out loud or fully believe it. Today is different though and he wants to scream it from the rooftops: he’s so freaking proud of his beautiful baby son and his incredible wife.

He smiles fondly as he nods in agreement.

“I really am, mom. Proud of myself but especially of Amy. I��ll explain it further later but I Amy went into labor at the precinct, I was out helping with the blackout and almost missed the birth. I just barely got there before Mac was born and Amy managed everything like a pro. I can’t believe I’ve made a human with her. She’s the best… I’m so lucky.”

Jake looks at Karen sensing that she’s going to speak.

“I can’t imagine any other person for you than her, and together you’ve formed a beautiful little family, honey. One to be very proud of, so don’t forget to give in to that feeling, okay?”

Karen hand travels from sleeping Mac’s cheek to her son’s curly hair, on a mission to stroke it like she always would when he was a child and it prompts Jake to lean his head onto her shoulder. From his new vantage point he looks back at Mac, then Amy.

They’re his whole world, his two ends meeting and Karen can only sit by to admire the scene before her. Never has Karen felt more sure of the fact that there was always one single thread of gold tying Jake to Amy.

(And Mac).

#peraltiago #baby peraltiago #mac #fanfic #fanfiction #perlatiago fanfic #oneshot #pining #fluff #angst #happy ending #jake and amy #peralta #santiago #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #brooklyn nine-nine #taylor swift #kinda hahha

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 5 years ago

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Legacies - dad!jason au

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon Pairings: jaydick Summary: Dick was Batman now, and as a certain someone always said - Batman always needs a Robin. A/N: After All’s Fair by a few months/a year and before Worst Nightmare. Also ignore the a/n on Worst Nightmare/edit it to be talking about being Bruce’s Robin, not Dick’s. Damian is 13 in this. Can’t believe I haven’t updated this au in OVER a year, so if you only read this series from me, reminder I now have a Patreon and Ko-Fi if you like my work and would like to support me further or get stories written for you/commissions! I’d be forever grateful!

Other things for Nevolition’s Dad!Jason AU

“…This is weird.” Jason’s voice cracked through the communicator. It was a slow night, thankfully, and the two had been talking via comm. link for about an hour.

“What is?” Dick asked, shifting slightly to rearrange the cape across his shoulders.

“This.” Jason reiterated. Laughed breathily. “I’m sitting here flirting with the fucking Batman.”

Dick laughed too. Leaned back and stared up at the moon through the cloudy skies. “Don’t freak out too much when you remember you’re married to the Batman too.”

“Oh my god, I’m married to the fucking Batman.” Jason mimicked with fake shock. Dick kicked his feet against the brick of the building in glee. The cape, this legacy, was heavy. Too heavy, sometimes. But Jason sitting up and talking to him about mundane things like soups and shoestrings made it lighter. Made it bearable.

Dick let out a deep sigh. Listened as Jason plopped another folded shirt of their clean laundry into the basket.

“…Any word from Tim tonight?” Jason asked softly.

“Of course not. He still isn’t speaking to me.” Dick mumbled. He heard voices below him and leaned forward, making sure his cowl ears didn’t cast a shadow. It was a couple leaving a nearby bar. “Still thinks Bruce is alive, and I don’t think he’ll speak to me until I agree with him.”

“Kind of hard to agree with an idea that’s absolutely nuts.” Jason huffed. “It’s just his grief, Dick. Don’t take it personally.”

“I’m trying not to.” Dick promised. “At this point, I just want to know he’s okay.”

“Mentally or physically? Because you know my opinion on the former.”

“Both.” Dick stressed. “I mean, if he thinks Bruce is still alive then obviously he needs help mentally. But if he’s out there trying to fight criminals on his own, I’m afraid what could happen if he’s ever outnumbered.”

“Well, what’d Babs say?” Jason asked. “She know where he is?”

“Says he’s still in Gotham.” Dick murmured, swinging his legs wildly in front of him, in a kind of stretch. “Says he’s going by the name Red Robin now too.”

“Why? He didn’t want to be your Robin?” Jason asked. The dryer dinged in the background, and he heard Jason shift to go get the new load. “That’s kind of surprising, honestly.”

“I told him to his face that his theory about Bruce wasn’t real, and he needed to find a new way to cope. Probably not in the nicest way either.” Dick mumbled guiltily. “So of course he wants nothing to do with me.”

“Still…Robin has become a lot more independent to Batman in recent years.” Jason thought out loud. “Working with Batman isn’t exactly a necessary part of the job anymore.”

“That’s just what Babs said, not that she or Steph have talked to him about it.” He heard the dryer door slam. “Sorry for taking a patrol on laundry night. I know you hate that.”

“Eh, I hate it less these days.” Dick could practically see Jason shrug. “You’ve got a lot more important things on your plate right now then making sure Damian’s clean underwear is folded correctly.”

Dick snorted. “Well hopefully he’s making up for my absence.”

Jason paused. Then: “What do you mean?”

“I mean I hope he’s sitting there helping you, not sitting in his room on the computer.”

Another hesitation, then a chuckle. “Dick, did you forget he’s spending the night at Colin’s tonight?”

Dick frowned. “No he’s not.”

“Yes he is. That’s what he told me this morning.”

Dick’s gut began to churn. “I asked him what he was doing tonight before I left for the manor. He said nothing, because Colin’s out of town.”

Jason remained silent.

“Jason, is Damian not home?”

“Let me call him.” Jason said hurriedly. Dick checked the projection in his mask, making sure he didn’t miss a text from his son. A moment later, Jason exhaled nervously. “…It went straight to voicemail.”

“Don’t panic, Jay. Let me call Oracle.” He pushed the switch on the side of his cowl. “Babs?”

“Yes, Man Wonder?”

“Do you have a read on Damian? He appears to have tried to pull a fast one on Jay and I.”

“Ah, the joy of teenage rebellion. Just like all three of his dads.” Barbara hummed. She too seemed to switch communicator channels. “Batgirl, Black Bat and all other Bat-related friends and foes. Be on the lookout for a certain thirteen-year-old that we all know and love very dearly. He’s apparently lied to his dads and is gonna be in some deep shi-”

“Hang on, hang on.” A new voice drawled boredly across the line. “Don’t panic, I’m almost there.”

Dick blinked, and even Barbara seemed stunned into a momentary silence. Damian had a communicator, just like Jason did. One to call Dick, and Dick only. Not the open line. “…Damian, almost where?”

There was a thud behind him, and Dick immediately fell into attack mode. Pulled batarangs from his belt as he flipped backwards and twisted into a fighting stance.

And his weapons immediately slipped from his fingers, clattering to the rooftop.

Because it wasn’t an enemy. Oh no. At this moment, he’d have preferred an enemy. He’d prefer the Joker over who was standing in front of him.

Robin.

Damian dressed as Robin.

“No.” Was the first word out of Dick’s mouth, even as he took in the costume. It wasn’t thrown together, wasn’t a fake. He could see Alfred’s careful craftsmanship in the stitching of the red tunic, the thick green gloves. “Absolutely not.”

Damian grinned anyway, holding his bright yellow cape out and giving a single spin to show it off. “Cool, huh?”

“Opposite of cool.” Dick found himself already floating into the Batman voice. “Dames, we talked about this.”

Damian frowned. “No, you and Baba talked about this. I listened.” He crossed his arms. “Reluctantly.”

Dick bit his lip. “Babs. Get Penny-One on the line. Ask him why he allowed-”

“Alfred didn’t allow anything. He just made the uniform when we asked.” Damian cut off.

Dick tilted his head. “We?”

“Tim.” Damian said simply. “He and I talked about it. He helped me with the design. He passed the legacy of Robin on to me.”

Dick’s stomach dropped. This…explained a lot. Maybe. Explained the Red Robin part, at least. Maybe the radio silent part, and why Damian had an open line communicator too.

Damian seemed to see the confusion on Dick’s features. Uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his hips. “I’d brought the idea up to him before, when you were thinking about taking over for…for Father.” He paused, seemed to swallow a lump in his throat. “And then you two fought, and he said he was leaving town. I asked him who was going to watch your back, and he stopped. He said he didn’t want to do it, that he couldn’t. Not with how things were right now. And I reminded him of what he always said.”

“And what did he always say?” Dick asked, hearing the bitterness in his own voice.

“That Batman needs a Robin.” Damian said firmly. “And in my opinion, that doesn’t change, even if the guy wearing the cowl does.”

“But not you.” Dick countered. His communicator beeped, reminding him of Jason on the other line. And great – that was going to go just swell. Hey honey, found our kid! Turns out he wants to fight crime! “Robin was never supposed to be you.”

“That’s what Tim said. And I asked him who else was going to do it?” Damian grinned again, overly pleased with himself. “He still wasn’t going for it exactly, so…”

“So?”

“So I told him if he didn’t help, I’d just go out on my own anyway.” Damian tilted his chin up. “He said that’d happen over his dead body, so he helped me design the suit and new weapons and everything, to make sure I was safe.”

“Well thank god for that.” Dick mumbled.

“And when it was all ready to go, he…he said he was proud of me. That there was no one else he’d rather take the title after him.” Damian’s cheeks seemed to redden a little bit at the memory of the praise. “He even went out with me the first few times so he knew I was ready.”

“You’ve gone on patrol already?!” Dick fumbled. He heard someone snort in amusement on the line. “Oh my…when? How many times?”

“Last month.” Damian countered. “Remember all those late nights at the Gotham Library with Nell for that project?”

“Oh my…” Dick sputtered, turning away. “Oh my freaking god…”

“Still got that husband on line two, Bats.” Barbara almost sang in his ear.

“So much for World’s Greatest Detective, eh, Didi?” Damian hummed with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I can pick up the slack on that.”

“You little…” Dick sighed, moving to run his hand through his hair, and remembering too late that he couldn’t. “Your baba’s going to kill me.”

“He’ll understand.” Damian tried, moving forward. “I’m…Didi, I’m not doing this to go against you or anything. I’m doing this to help. To help people, to protect the city you and Father love so much and…and to make sure you come home safe.”

Dick looked down at him.

“I won’t let the Court of Owls happen again, Didi. I won’t.” Damian whispered. “I won’t let someone hurt Stephie again, or Tim, or anyone else.”

Dick’s heart melted a little at that. And hurt, too. Goddamn, their son was so kind. So smart. So perfect.

He sighed, and reached out to reel Damian in, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders. Closed his eyes to hold back the tears, remembering when Bruce would hug him too, when they were Batman and Robin. And now, here, this…

“We’ll…have to talk to Baba about this. He’ll take a lot of convincing.” Damian looked up at him, smile threatening to crack his face in two. “Not that I’m saying yes, either, but…I understand.”

“…I’d have pointed out the hypocrisy of you saying no, if you didn’t.” Damian admitted.

“I have no doubt.” Dick laughed. “Again, I’m not saying yes, but…I suppose you can stay with me for tonight’s patrol.”

Impossibly, Damian’s grin got wider.

“A-hem.” Barbara reminded. “Husband – and dad – still on line two.”

Dick groaned as Damian stepped away from him with an awkward grin. Jason really was going to kill him.

He hit the button to switch frequencies. “Jay-”

“I swear to fuck, Dick, if someone’s already linked him to your Batman, I’m going to-”

“He’s with me!” Dick cut off, cringing in the immediate silence that followed. “He’s, uh, with me. On…this…rooftop.”

“…Why.” Jason demanded, though Dick already knew he was putting the pieces together. “Why is he on a rooftop with you.”

“Because…” Dick started. He stopped there, though, because how do you explain it? Even to someone who formerly wore the colors? “Well…apparently…he, uh…he approached Tim a little while ago and…I guess we raised him too well, so…”

“No. Absolutely not.” Jason all but screamed. “Tell him his little ass is not going to be Robin and he is fucking grounded until further notice.”

“Now, Jason-”

“Nope.” Jason countered. “Drag his ass home, right now. Or else you’re grounded too, you Bat fuck.”

If he was going to try and plead any more of his or Damian’s case, he didn’t get the chance before Jason disconnected the line. He sighed, dropping his head back.

“What’d he say?” Damian asked nervously. Dick was almost surprised he didn’t try to eavesdrop on the call.

“Exactly what I’m sure you’d think he’d say.” Dick droned. He looked back down at his boy. “He wants me to bring you home, stat.”

Damian pursed his lips and crossed his arms once more.

“But…” Damian perked. “He clearly needs some time to cool down.” Dick smiled. “Probably will take him a few hours.” In the moment of silence, as luck would have it: “And I think I hear sirens a few streets over.”

Damian slowly smiled as Oracle patched the police scanner into both their communicators.

“You ready, Robin?” Dick whispered. And even for all his fear and hesitancy about this partnership, he felt his chest fill with pride.

“I was born ready, Batman.” Damian promised.

“Last one there has to wash the Batmobile.” Dick teased. Damian laughed.

Batman and Robin jumped into the night – together again for the first time.

#jaydick #dick grayson #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #barbara gordon #dad!jason au

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nurfhurdur · 4 years ago

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Hard Enough Left Modern AU

Because I miss Ruth

There hadn't been activity on that particular channel in weeks. Every few days Emily would log on, only to be dissapointed to see that nothing had changed. The only activity being comments from other viewers asking when to expect another video.

It had gotten to the point where she had checked to make sure she was still subscribed, and she edited her settings to make sure she'd get a notification the next time there was anything uploaded. It was another three weeks after that, that she had checked the time on her phone to see the banner across the screen.

Rushing through the last of her course work, she threw her backpack on the floor and reached for her tablet. She tapped a fingernail against the screen impatiently as YouTube finally loaded, hitting pause quickly so she could dig her headphones out of the nightstand drawer.

She'd binged Ruth's videos in the span of a few days. She didn't know how girls on YouTube did it, especially with a DIY channel. Starting back from the first videos posted a few years before, the video quality had improved, the girl's editing had improved, and she'd become more comfortable in front of a camera. From cooking, and baking, to personal desk size succulent gardens, or organizing and purging a closet, somehow the girl had made a name for herself on the internet and the most mundane of tasks seemed more interesting when discussed and explained on this girl's channel.

Comfortable in her bed, she finally pressed play and tilted her head as the personalized graphic of a constellation came on screen, which the girl had done a tutorial on also....

When did she have the time to do all this?

She was pulled from her thoughts, and rather startled, to see an exhausted looking version of the girl who ran the channel. Ruth's dark hair was pulled in to a messy bun, circles under her eyes and she looked like she hadn't taken the time to get out of her pajamas. What was most startling, was what looked like a medical oxygen tube beneath her nose.

Looking up into the camera, she waved vaguely with her usual greeting before continuing.

"I've never really shared this, because I never had any reason to-" She held up the small tank of oxygen sitting beside her and grinned flatly. "-but now I do.....so today's video is a bit of a PSA."

Her expression dulled and she stared at the screen a moment. "Get out of the shot."

"I'm not in the shot," came a low response from the corner.

Ruth addressed the camera again. "I have help today."

A few clips were edited in of Ruth and....was that Jesse Hudson?

The Piston Cup driver?

The two were figuring out where to stage Ruth's things, and Ruth watched in exasperation before telling him to leave her stuff alone and let her do it.

"I'm just trying to help."

"This isn't my first video or anything-....no, leave the tank there-"

"Wh-"

"Because that's where I keep it when I'm working here-"

The clip cut back to Ruth's slightly more professional expression and she reached for the camera. "For those of you who keep up, yes, that was Jesse Hudson. Jesse, say hello."

"Hey." He muttered with a glance up from his phone.

"We're twins. Before you flood my inbox, I'm older, it's not that exciting to have a celebrity sibling and-....." Ruth paused and stared at the screen again. "Did you just kick the footboard of my bed?"

Just barely in the frame, Jesse's Nikes could be seen as he kicked off from the bed again, spinning the chair slowly. "Yeah, cause you lie."

"I do not lie. You're- you know what, this is my video, and I'm not spending ages editing it so now the world can see how sulky you are."

The chair rolled further in to frame and Jesse only shrugged a shoulder before going back to his phone.

Ruth took a slow breath, for effect or because she needed it, it was hard to tell, before launching in to a lengthy explanation of why she had been absent for so long.

"I don't have an actual diagnosis, no one can give me a specific name for it-"

The more she spoke, the more emotional the video became. The natural lighting of her bedroom made the video a little surreal, the way it picked up the threatening shine in the girl's eyes wasn't staged, or planned, or even wanted. It was apparent that a portion had been cut. She looked like she had been crying, and instead of lazing in the background, Jesse was sitting beside her at her desk, chin rested on his hand as he looked between her and the screen silently.

"Some of you wonder how I have time to do any of this, some of you are very rude in your questioning of how I have time-"

The clip had been edited again and a more composed looking Ruth stared at the camera before speaking and glancing over her shoulder. "Our older brother thought there was a problem and I'm sure Jesse is getting lectured for something...."

She'd edited captions in, and color coded them for each brother. They appeared at the bottom of the screen while she made a show of her impatience on camera.

"Can you for once in your life-"

"She asked me to help-"

Ruth made eye contact with the camera a moment before continuing, explaining that her illness started back in the early 2000s. Doctors had originally treated her for bronchitis, then walking pneumonia. X-rays, blood tests, screenings and different antibiotics had all been tried with only mininal results. There was the possibility of an autoimmune disorder but they hadn't started that round of tests yet.

"I don't always have an oxygen tank, this is a bit of a new development...." She eyed the small cylinder beside her and it was obvious to see that she was still trying to wrap her head around it. With a shaky and watery smile she looked back at the camera.

"It's extremely hard to be looked at the way people do when you have something like this basically tied to your side."

She ignored her twins' return to his chair beside her.

"For some it's an insulin pump, for me it's an oxygen tank, for others it's chronic pain. We know we have it, while the general public tends to look at us like we're looking for sympathy or leaching the system. Just because it's an invisible disease doesn't mean it isn't there."

She looked at her brother before leaning back in her computer chair. Drawing her knee up, she wrapped an arm around it.

"Where had we gone the other day? Was it the grocery store-"

"Doctor appointment."

"Oh, yeah. It was." Ruth frowned. "I've been issued a handicap sign for the mirror of my car....they haven't sent the new license plate yet. I didn't even want to use it but it was a really bad day for me. My family convinced me to use it to park as close as possible, and then wanted to get me a wheel chair."

She pursed her lips, taking a moment to gather her thoughts and looked in to the camera.

"Some middle aged woman came right up to me and told me she thought it was horrible that I would do such a thing for a closer space. That as a young woman in my twenties, I was more than capable of walking the extra hundred feet and had no right to be using my grandparents' issued sign like that."

She looked away from the camera and swiped a tear from her eye. Barely seen on camera, it looked like Jesse might have nudged her chair with his foot.

"I was so upset I showed her my signature on the back, and then my driver's license. Just because I'm in my twenties doesn't mean-"

She shook her head and sighed while rubbing her forehead.

"It's hard enough for people like myself to be so restricted when we're supposed to be 'enjoying our youth'...don't be that person. Just.....take a moment to realize that we're not always how we appear. It's a smack of pride to even have to use that handicap sign. I just stared at it hanging from the rearview mirror, convincing myself not to take it back down for some complete stranger to then treat me that way?"

"That was the appointment they gave you the tank." Jesse muttered lowly.

"It was." She agreed. "Like that wasn't a hard pill to swallow already...."

There was a brief pause, and it was obvious she was mentally shaking herself. She diverted the topic somewhat, sitting up straighter and getting composed.

"So that's where all my time comes from. This started as a hobby a few years ago and because of you-" she gestured to the screen. "-faithfull viewers and subscribers, I've networked with a few different small businesses, I work from home. I have my Etsy shop, I've been able to review different products and be sponsored by those companies. If you haven't visited, be sure to check the links in the description. There's my Etsy shop, Instagram, Twitter, and links to my favourite channels."

As an afterthought, she added. "Maybe I'll do more videos on this, I'm not really sure. Leave your thoughts in the comments."

It was her usual send off, but for some reason it meant so much more after a fifteen minute video explaining something so personal.

"Remember guys, there's always a reason to smile. Until next time."

The personalized LittleDipperCo. appeared on screen alongside the subscribe button and list of links before the next video in the playlist began to buffer.

She hit cancel and set the tablet aside, trying to digest the last fifteen minutes. She'd ordered from the Etsy shop, LittleDipperCo. before and had recieved a little handwritten note alongside all the little items she'd ordered.

Stickers, bookmarks, a personalized mug for her dad, the earrings she was currently wearing....because she'd ordered so much and had been so patient, Ruth had added a few small items and a personal thank you card.

She was her favorite shop, there was something unique about LittleDipperCo.-creations by RuthAnne- that had always stood out to her.

Grabbing her tablet, she went back to find the link and glanced up at her open doorway in surprise when her brother appeared.

"Did you see what he's saying about me?"

"What who is saying-"

"Hudson thinks he's being funny-"

"Get off of Twitter, Alexander."

Alex held his phone up and read the time stamp. "An hour and a half ago-"

Emily glanced back at the upload time of Ruth's video. It was only about half an hour old.

Jesse Hudson was apparently roasting her brother in that video.

She blinked a few times and hid a smirk, busying herself with reaching for a hair tie. "Don't you have some kind of conference to get ready for?"

Another alert popped up as he made a show of leaving her doorway and Emily shook her head while clicking the link.

Let's lighten the mood! PSA- BLOOPERS AND REAL TALK.

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findingbxlance · 5 years ago

Text

I love The Sims.

Which is why I will never stop being disappointed in TS4.

Lets do some math, and I’m going to keep this mainly between TS3 & TS4. While I did play TS2, there isn’t a lot of information readily available on what the games themselves cost at the time of release. I have some information on that, but I’m not sure if it’s 100% accurate as I was baby when they came out and my mom had to buy them for me. I’ll release it later if anyone is curious.

TS3 launched with a base game priced at $49.99, and throughout it’s lifetime accrued nine stuff packs at $19.99 each, and eleven expansion packs priced at $39.99 a pop. This comes to a total of $669.79.

TS4 launched with a base game price of $59.99 (that price soon dropped to $49.99 because the backlash was immediate), and introduced the new game pack. In total (as of 4/15/2020), TS4 has sixteen stuff packs at $9.99 each, eight expansion packs at $39.99, and eight game packs at $19.99. That comes to a total of $699.67.

That’s not a huge price difference. All in all, it’s about $30 if you want to get the whole, complete collection, so why do I dislike TS4 so vehemently?

Quality.

Let’s compare a few expansion packs just to get a feel for what the difference is.

TS3 launched the “Late Night” expansion at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Bridgeport) with 82 lots

Fame & reputation systems

Bars & night clubs

Apartments with penthouse suites

Subways

Elevators

Breast & muscle sliders in CAS*

Zodiac signs

A fountain tool*

Height adjustment for wall objects

Groups & bands

Butlers

Vampires!

The mixology skill

2 new traits (shy & star quality)

TS4 launched the “Get Famous” expansion at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Del Sol Valley) with 11 lots

Fame & reputation systems

Active acting career

Multiple ways to become famous

Music, video station, etc.

And that’s about it.

Now I’ll be the first person to admit that TS3 wasn’t perfect. Although it was a very full game, it struggled in areas of performance. With such large, open worlds, and detailed customization systems, it was pretty buggy for a lot of people, but we’ll talk on that more later.

But what I want to focus on is the disparity between these two packs, as they’re supposed to be mirrors of one another. “Get Famous” is the TS4 version of “Late Night”, so where did all the stuff go?

Well, EA broke it into 3 packs.

To get the full experience of “Late Night” in TS4, or at least something similar, you would need to purchase, “Get Famous”, “City Living”, and “Vampires”. That’s 2 expansion packs, and 1 game pack. So, to replicate the experience of “Late Night” you would need to spend $99.97.

That’s almost $100.

So, for an experience we paid $39.99 previously in the last installment, we’re now being asked to pay $100 for.

Is that fair?

Lets do another expansion pack comparison:

TS3 launched “Ambitions” at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Twinbrook) with 82 lots

5 new active jobs that take you all around the world your sims inhabit

Firefighter, investigator, ghost hunter, stylist, and architectural designer

Self-employment

Sculptors, inventors, painters, writers, gardeners, and so on can all profit from at home work

Laundry

Tattooing career

New traits (eco-friendly, good observer, weirdo, etc.)

Consignment stores

Inventing

Sculpting

TS4 launched “Get to Work” at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Magnolia Promenade) with 4 lots

3 new active jobs that take place in one location

Detective, doctor, scientist

Baking & photography skills

Retail lots

Illnesses for sims

Aliens

There’s definitely more crossover here, but “Get to Work” still falls short. $39.99 for a full game and all we get is a world with 4 lots? Even in TS2 “Open for Business” we had more to do.

And, that isn’t to mention the fact that “Get to Work” launched separately from the TS4 “Laundry Day Stuff” pack. So, to get a similar experience to TS3′s “Ambitions” you would need to purchase both “Get to Work” and “Laundry Day Stuff” at a total of $49.98.

One more comparison for good measure.

TS3 launched “Island Paradise” at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Isla Paradiso) with 118 lots, the most of ANY TS3 expansion

Houseboats that can move anywhere around the island

Resorts that you can either visit, or own, manage & edit

New transportation modes

Boating, skiing, and windsurfing

3 new careers

Lifeguard, resort manager, scuba diver

Diving into fully realized underwater scenes

Sims could also catch fish, explore underwater caves & find sunken treasure

Shark & kraken attacks

Mermaids!

Missions to discover and unlock new islands

Blueprint templates*

TS4 launched “Island Living” at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Sulani) with 11 lots

Docks & new foundation types

4 new careers

Conservationist, diving, fishing, and lifeguard

Mermaids!

Boats

Missions to clean up the island

2 new traits

In the case of “Island Paradise” vs. “Island Living” there are a quite a few similarities, but the disparity remains. Thankfully, this time around EA didn’t break “Island Living” into multiple packs, but imagine if in a few months we get a resort style pack? Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past EA.

In these pack comparisons, I hope I’ve highlighted some of the issues between what should have been pretty similar packs.

And, to clarify, I’m not saying that EA should have just copy pasted TS3 packs into the TS4 style, but for the amount of money they’re asking, the quality should remain the same. There should be a similar amount of features between each pack, but there isn’t.

With each expansion, it feels like EA is spending less and less time working on the unique gameplay features, and pouring more time into the general aesthetics of the packs. So, while TS4 is the prettiest of all The Sims titles, it’s also the emptiest.

Despite the shiny veneer of a good game with solid graphics, TS4 ultimately lacks depth. It doesn’t feel like a game, but rather a character creator. I spend more time building sims and their homes than I do actually playing out their lives.

All in all, I find that the “life simulation” part of TS4 is severely lacking. It mostly comes down to the little things, which is exemplified whenever I go back and replay TS2. Sims would cuddle their partner in their sleep, burglars were a real and present danger, raccoons would topple your trash can at any given chance, and friends would call all the time to ask if you wanted to go downtown.

It’s been 6 years since TS4 came out, and, from what the dev’s have said, they aren’t planning on pushing out TS5 anytime soon, but let’s dream a little bit about what could be.

In my perfect game, TS5 would include aspects of TS3 and TS2. The open worlds were great, but not many people’s computers were beefy enough to run them. The one thing I will applaud about TS4, is that its made with everyone in mind. We can’t all afford big, gaming computers, a lot of simmers play on their laptops, and we should all be able to play regardless of what type of machine we’re working with.

So, instead of fully open works with 90+ lots, I would like to see open neighborhoods. If we take the open concept of TS3, and combine it with the neighborhood style of TS4, we’d get an open world of about 15-20 lots. That’s nowhere near as big as TS3, but would allow for more fun neighbor interactions, and remove the constant load screens.

I’d also like to see a return of the color wheel. This is also a point of contention, where I understand that excessive customization really dragged down TS3 and made it unplayable for a lot of people. So instead of full customization, relegate it to just colors (instead of different materials like fabric, metal, wood, etc.,) and just CAS.

I think a lot of what gummed up TS4 was the fact that you could customize everything. Hair color, eye color, makeup, clothes, accessories, wallpaper, paint, tiles, flooring, chairs, sofas, decorations, and on and on. Restricting it just to CAS, and in a simple color wheel would give us so much more freedom.

A color wheel in CAS would also solve EA’s issue of diversity. While they’ve given us the ability to create trans and nonbinary sims (which is fantastic!), they’ve been really slow on any progress when it comes to skin tones. A color wheel would allow us to create sims of all colors, and give power to the players to create more realistic and diverse representations of their lives as sims.

The last thing I would really love to see is a return to the little details. Give us more randomness. Genies, walking skeletons, ruins we can explore that aren’t just rabbit holes, more active careers, more opportunities. Don’t be afraid to give us the weird things, we love the weird things! But don’t forget about the little things. Sims sitting in the grass together and chatting, sims leaving flowers at your door after a really great date, sims scooting together to cuddle while watching a movie together on the couch.

Overall, TS5 should just include more more, if that makes sense.

Leave your comments & thoughts below! I’d love to talk to ya’ll about this, its really been brewing for awhile.

*Features included in TS4 base game.

#the sims #ts4 #sims #sims 4 #simblr

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luckyspike · 5 years ago

Text

Of Love and Loss - a Good Omens Fanfic

co-author credit to Griffin McElroy

The cottage has a den and it is agreed, fairly early on, that while it is technically shared space, it falls slightly more under Crowley’s purview than Aziraphale’s. Oh, certainly, there are a few bookshelves* and a display of antique snuffboxes, and the furniture is comfortable and homey, more suited to the angel’s aesthetic than the demon’s, but aside from those touches it is all Crowley’s: dark paint on the walls, houseplants scattered over every free inch of floor, and sleek technology conspicuously placed. There is a TV on the wall, huge and slim and used for very little aside from streaming. In the corner, there is a desk, with the fastest, most powerful computer money could buy.

For the first six months they live in the cottage, it is mostly untouched.

[* Which hold only modern paperbacks, not first editions, because Aziraphale just can’t trust the good books out in a room he doesn’t supervise as closely.]

For the first six months they live in the cottage, Crowley is busy elsewhere: there are gardens to tame, and a greenhouse to stock, and a widow’s walk with a telescope to be enjoyed. Crowley rarely goes into the den at all, other than to water and menace the plants, for those first six months.

But gradually, winter comes, and he and Aziraphale settle into a routine, and Crowley starts to gravitate toward the den. It’s in spurts at first, just when Aziraphale is at the shop and it’s too cold to do anything else, but it gets more frequent. Longer periods of time.

By nine months, Aziraphale is worried. Crowley is still Crowley, still stalks around his plants and shouts at them, but other than that, he is in the den. He lays on the couch, and sleeps, and watches TV, and sleeps some more.

Aziraphale asks if he’s tired, one day. “You’re sleeping a lot,” he observes. “A lot more than ... than I remember you doing, in London. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” And then, because Aziraphale has this look he does that renders Crowley unable to lie, he admits, “I’m bored.”

Aziraphale’s face falls. “Oh. Oh. I see. Yes, not the ... there isn’t the same bustle here as there is in London, is there?”

“No, no, nonono.” Crowley holds up his hands, worried and insistent. “Not what I meant, angel. No, I still get in to London when I drop you off at your shop, that’s plenty. But ...” He shrugs. “I used to have a job. Wiling and tempting and that. But I ... don’t anymore. I used to plan stuff, and spend too much time scheming, and now I don’t ... have a job?” He shifts. “It’s not here. Not living here. I just feel a bit ... useless?” He frowns. “Not the right word. Can’t come up with a word. Do you follow me?”

“You’re missing having a task?” Aziraphale guesses. “A goal or some such, whether you like it or not?” He sets his book aside and sits back in his chair, the better to watch Crowley over steepled fingers. “Yes, I think I understand.”

“Like, you have your shop, same as always. But I only had being a demon. That was my job and it’s what I am. But now I’m ... still a demon, obviously, but an unemployed demon, so ...” He throws up his hands. “Bored.”

Aziraphale nods sympathetically. “Yes. I see. Well ... you could try some different things? Volunteering at the animal shelter -”

“Really? Animals hate me, angel.”

“Ah, yes, that’s right. Volunteering at the school?”

Crowley makes a show of looking at himself. “Not sure that’s really my scene.”

“Volunteering at the -”

Crowley sighs, and sits back, the tip of his considerable nose propped on his knuckles. “I’ll think about it. Find something, I’m sure. Maybe try beachcombing.”

“Maybe,” says Aziraphale, without much confidence. He wonders how he’s going to break to Crowley that most of what you find beachcombing is not, in fact, treasure, but junk. “You could give it a shot.”

“Bah.” Crowley sits back further, slouching deep into the chair, and sprawls his limbs all akimbo. “I’ll sleep on it. Wake me up for dinner?”

“You’re eating tonight?”

“No, but you are.” He tugs the tartan throw off the back of the chair, and wraps it around himself. “I’ll join if you’ll have me.”

“Of course.”

Crowley talks to his technology a lot. He doesn’t see well, Aziraphale knows, and these days the technology talks back, makes it easier for the demon to navigate. So when he hears Crowley chatting to something - someone? - in the den one cool night in late spring, he doesn’t pay much mind.

When it happens a second time that week, he wonders, but he doesn’t investigate. Probably just talking to Anathema. He pulls the doors to the library closed, and reads for the rest of the night.

When it continues the next week, curiosity gets the better of him. It’s around nine, and Crowley is talking in the den again, and Aziraphale sighs and sets his book down and goes to investigate.

The demon is sitting at the computer. The screen is massive, and Crowley is looking at it through his dark glasses. He has a controller in his hands, and a set of headphones on, and he is talking into, of all things, a microphone.

Aziraphale blinks. “What’s this, then?”

Crowley jumps, and then says into the microphone, “Ah, yeah, one second, got an old friend here,” before he hits a button and pulls the headphones off. He jumps up out of the chair and moves to the right. Aziraphale notices then, that there is a camera, fixed on where Crowley was sitting. He frowns.

“What are you doing?”

“Working.” Crowley sticks his hands into his pockets and for the first time in nearly a year since they moved, looks inordinately pleased with himself. “Found a thing to do.”

“This isn’t a sex thing, is it?” Aziraphale asks warily.

“Nah.” He jerks a thumb toward the computer. “Nah it’s ... uh.” He thinks it over. “I have no idea how to explain this to you.” He frowns. “You know video games?”

Aziraphale nods. “... Broadly, yes.”

“Okay. Right. So there’s this website called Twitch. An’ what you do, is you play video games, but while you do that you broadcast your game to other people who want to watch you play. Adam showed it to me.” He waves his hands around, toward the computer. “S’kinda like a reality show? But video games.”

“And other people watch this?”

“Yeah. Got 100 viewers right now.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m hilarious.” He rocks back and forth on his heels and smirks. “Also, they give me money sometimes.”

“Willingly?”

“Yes, of course. I’m retired, remember? Well, from being a demon.” He looks pleased. “Now I’m a Twitch streamer. Part-time.”

The only reason that Aziraphale does not remark that this is a natural progression, as smooth a transition as from shore to sea, is that he does not really understand Twitch. Instead, he nods. “Good. And you’re ... having fun?”

“Oh yeah. Loads.” He glances over his shoulder. “Wanna watch for a bit? You can sit in the background. Really gets the chat going, when stuff happens in the background.”

“It’s not one of those violence games, is it?” But the angel is pulling over a wicker chair and sitting down even as he asks. “With all the killing?”

“Nah. S’pokemon. Like Joshua talks about.” He sits back down, and slides the headphones back on. “Right, what’d you want me to call you? Gotta introduce you.”

“Mr. Fell.”

Crowley gives Aziraphale a long-suffering look. “That’s not what ... never mind. Right, anything you say’ll probably get picked up on the mic, so just watch it, yeah? I’m gonna un-mute it.” He taps a button, and says, “Right, everyone, this is Az Fell. He’s ah, my favorite librarian, my best friend and uh ... my roommate.” Aziraphale blinks. Oh, so that’s what he’d meant. Well ... he wasn’t wrong.

Roommate feels a bit impersonal though. They will discuss it later.

“Right, so anyway, back to the run. Fell, this is ah, s’called a Nuzlocke run, where if your pokemon faints you have to let it go because it’s dead.”

“Oh,” says Aziraphale, who understood exactly none of that sentence.

“I just started. You’ll pick it up as we go.”

To Aziraphale’s surprise, he does. He picks up on the pokemon types, the point of the game, the exploration, and the apparently-bizarre rules Crowley has decided to play to game under. He comes to like the names, and the pokemon, and despite the fact that they are not real, he finds himself getting attached to them.

The first faint, an hour into the game, takes them both by surprise.

“Fuck!” Crowley glares at the screen. “Fuck! That’s not even a bug-type move!”

Aziraphale raises his hands to his mouth. “So Betty is dead?”

“Betty is dead,” Crowley confirms, morosely. “R I P Betty.”

“Look at all the little tombstones in the chat.” Aziraphale sighs, and wrings his hands. “Oh, dear. We should send her off.”

They do, when the battle ends. Solemnly, Crowley releases Betty the Rattata to the wild, and he and Aziraphale bow their heads while a bagpipe rendition of ‘Amazing Grace’ plays. Aziraphale wipes away a single tear. The chat goes wild.

xxGonnaMunch69xx: omg AJ your boyfriend is crying JamesBuffetsDick: RIP Betty and my feelings KnopeForPresident: omgggg im dead RIP Betty JisforJerg: fuckkkkkkkkkkk i had money on Betty living to the end GisforGreg: omg kiss your boyfriend so he feels better

Crowley sits up straighter as the music fades away. Aziraphale sniffles, blinks a few times and tries to subtly dab his eyes, and nods to Crowley, who returns the gesture before turning back to the screen and fiddling with the controls a little.

“We will fight on in her memory,” he intones, as his avatar on the screen runs in a circle in a patch of tall grass. “We will fight on for Betty. We’re gonna kill the Elite Four, and Betty’s name will be our war cry. For Betty!”

“For Betty!” Aziraphale nods firmly, and watches the screen intently. Crowley soldiers on, navigating around Kalos, and Aziraphale watches, although his thoughts are with Betty. He wonders what pokemon do after you release them to the wild. Maybe he will ask Joshua next time they see him.

Crowley, recovering from his grief more rapidly, is on one of his monologues, waxing philosophical on the nature of pokemon match-ups, as his character runs around on-screen. “They’re just playing Calvinball with the dragon and fairy types too, since they’re not even real, and who decided that dragons would be weak to fairies? Should be the other way around, if you ask me - oh, shit, I didn’t want to jump off that ledge, fuck.” He grumbles. “We’re gonna have to walk all the way back to town.”

“You’ll run into some wild pokemon on the way though, won’t you?”

“Can’t catch ‘em.” Crowley sighs, as the screen flashes and a Psyduck assails the character. “Already got one off this route.”

“But you can smite them? For experience?”

Crowley laughs. “Yeah, yeah, angel, I can smite them for experience.” He taps a few buttons. “Get ‘em, Blanche.”

“For Betty!” Aziraphale declares, seizing his mug of tea with probably more enthusiasm than necessary.

“Yeah,” Crowley agrees, still laughing. “Yeah! Fuck you, this one’s for Betty!”

In his chair, Crowley shifts around, spreading his knees and stretching his legs a little. Next to him, and out of view of the camera, Aziraphale’s hand comes to rest on his knee.

Crowley doesn’t blush; they have been doing this ... whatever it is they’re doing ... publicly long enough that he doesn’t react quite that violently now. But the next few sibilants are a little more hissed than usual, and Crowley shifts in the chair again under the pretense of getting more comfortable, yet somehow ending up a few inches closer to Aziraphale.

k2p2ribbingforherpleasure: fuck yea blanche kill that duck for betty bubbletii: cant wait for them to get to the ocean and catch a magikarp GisforGreg: am i the only one who noticed AJ moved closer to Fell or ... ROOMMATES HUH LIAR JisforJerg: jfc greg shut up and watch the game

#the glorious crackfic wednesday #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #good omens #inspired by griffins nuzlocke run #one million beautiful beaks #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #crowley definitely streams on twitch #you will never convince me otherwise

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thethousandyearwitch · 4 years ago

Text

The Show Must Go On! - A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 2

FF.net link - AO3 link

Gon Freecs had started his twitch account mostly for fun. After he had saved enough of his money from summer jobs to afford a computer for himself, the young boy had discovered the vast world of video games, diving headfirst into whatever flash games or free steam games he could (Until Mito caved and gave him some redeemable online gift cards as a present). Pretty quickly he started making connections over some of those games, getting invited to discord groupchats, and developing friendships with people he’d frequently play with.

One Day, his friend Leorio, a medical student from France who Gon had met through one of those groupchats, asked if he wanted to join his Sunday Stream. He explained that they’d just team up for a couple of rounds of Fortnite, and Gon could leave whenever he wanted to if he ended up not liking the Twitch experience. Leorio did not admit to the fact that he only asked Gon because his usual partner bailed due to a bad hangover, and he himself was too hungover to manage a stream by himself. This resulted in a lively evening filled with banter, excited yelling, and only minor technical difficulties considering Gons location further out in the country. Leorio ended the stream, thanking his viewers, signing off, but he stayed on call with Gon.

“Thanks so much for jumping in today, I owe you!” His French accent wasn’t too thick, but it still curled around his words.

“Its no problem! It was actually pretty fun, so if you ever need another stream-pal...” The young boy trailed off as he started to feel faint traces of sleepiness creeping up on him. His computer screen was the only light on in the room, and it wasn’t exactly gentle on his eyes.

“About that actually; Have you thought about trying to stream for yourself?”

“Huh?” Gon could hear the tell-tale creaking of Leorios chair as he reclined back. “I mean, you’ve definitely got the energy for it, you’re not half bad at playing video games; Though that’s not really a requirement...Point is, I think you’d have fun with it.” Gon let the thought of it roll around his mind like a marble. He did have a lot of fun livestreaming this once, and there wasn’t anything that exactly spoke against it, except maybe that his sleep schedule could suffer under it. But that may as well be expected of a boy his age.

“Do you think people would really come to watch me play video games?” He finally asked, voice lined more with curiosity rather than insecurity. “Are you kidding? My chat loved you! Everyone loves a cute kid whose always one victory royale away from changing his legal name into his gamer tag and develop an addiction to monster energy.” Gon giggled in reply, “I’m not even allowed to drink those.” “Thank God you aren’t, if you had any more energy than you already have, you’d probably explode on the spot. Those things are loaded with junk anyways.” Gon decided not to bring up the infamous Redbull-pyramid that always lingered in the corner of Leorios videos. He could always use that another time if Leorio tried to lecture him about healthy living habits.

“Well, I guess I could try it out this week…But I think I’d need a guide to help me set the whole thing up…” Gon grinned to himself, hearing the familiar creaking again as Leorio sat up straight on the other end.

“I mean, I did say I owe you, and who would I be to leave a kid struggling with modern technology. And since my chat seemed to love you, I may even host your first stream, get you some exposure, y’know?” Mission success, Gon fed into Leorios ego and ensured that he wouldn’t have to struggle with stream setup by himself. He was quite thankful for the older mans (by stretch of that word) help and friendship, almost like an older brother, switching between caring protectiveness and friendly torment.

“Now, isn’t it time for you to get some shut-eye?” Busted. Gon glanced at the clock in the corner of his screen, 12:13 am. They said their Goodbyes, and the young boy settled into bed almost as quickly as he fell asleep.

The coming week, as promised, Leorio had helped Gon figure out his stream setup, settling for his channel name ‘Foxbeargaming’. With each passing day and conversation about the topic, Gon felt the static inside him build up, excitement and anticipation mixing in his bloodstream, until that long-awaited Friday.

And it was worth that wait. Gon spend a good 3 hours that day streaming Fortnite, at first in Teams with Leorio and his usual stream-pal Zepile, and later a few single matches. He hadn’t even realized how easy it came to him to interact with chat, leisurely talking about what came to mind, joking about events in the game, and just basking in this new way of releasing his bubbly energy. Leorio had warned him that he may feel exhausted after the first stream, but that’s not at all what the young boy experienced; After turning everything off, he was still beaming with joy. When he nestled into bed, he curled to his side, trying to repress his smile, though it would still take a good hour before he had calmed down enough to drift to sleep.

That joy he had experienced was enough to drive him to continue to stream at least once every 5 days, not consistent enough to build a schedule, but often enough to slowly gather a fanbase, loyal viewers who started tuning in whenever he announced a stream. It took a couple of months before people started posting his stream highlights to YouTube, and after that only a few weeks before someone offered to do official edits for him, on his own YouTube channel. A YouTube channel ended up drawing even more attention to him, people in Twitch-chat mentioning they found him through compilations and highlights.

Of the people whose attention was caught by the bright faced boy, one appeared for the first time in chat while he was streaming Super Mario 64, a palate cleanser from his usual Fortnite streams. The first message had been inconspicuous enough, provoking, but not too much out of the ordinary.

“KilCat666: try a BLJ lol”

This however prompted Gon's entire chat to egg him on to try various speedrun tactics, until the rest of the stream was spent attempting (and failing) a “Lobby Backwards Long Jump”. Gon took it well and promised chat that if they wanted to he’d try to practice again on the next stream, asking for tips in his Discord chat. Speedrunning wasn’t really his way of playing games, he was too impatient and would rather experience the game as intended, but it shook things up, and was a surprisingly great way to regain focus after playing a different game for too long. Soon enough, the Server started bubbling with tutorials, tips, and heated discussions about optimal routes. Gon read through the chat, enjoying how everyone seemed to get into the topic, while also mourning his dwindling attention span as more and more messages came in. With the overflow of information, his brain felt like it was thrown into a deep fryer (Though maybe he was just hungry). Defeated, he dropped his head on his desk. Maybe he bit off more than he could chew. How was he supposed to take all this information in and actually learn it in time for the next stream? This was worse than school. Maybe he should ju-

Bloop.

Gon raised his head from his desk, greeted by a new private message. It wasn’t anyone from his friends-list, but that wasn’t too unusual, a lot of people from his Server would DM him, and he didn’t mind talking with anyone who had something to say to him.

“Kil: Yo.”

“Kil: do you need like help with SM64 lol”

The young boy adjusted his tired eyes to the screen, trying to find recognition into the profile picture of a white cat, but not finding it.

“GON: Hi!! :^D I’m taking tips right now if you have any!”

“Kil: your inputs were really sloppy lol”

Ouch, though true.

“Kil: but you’ve got morale at least”

“Kil: I made a short guide on my channel, if u wanna check it out?”

Attached to the last message was a link to a YouTube video, and just as announced, it was a eight minute tutorial on “LBLJ”, with text overlay explaining the various steps. What stood out more to Gon however, was the view and subscriber count to the Channel ‘Kilcat666’. After scrolling through the channel a bit more, and following another link to an adjacent Twitch channel with the same name, it dawned on him; This guy was a pro.

“GON: WOW :^O you are really good at this!!!!”

For a while, Gon thought that’s it. He browsed through a couple more of this kid’s videos. He was usually just referred to as ‘Kil’ or in rare instances ‘Killu’, and there wasn’t much on him as a person, just a short bio: “Kil, 14, him/his, Yorkshire area. SM64 0 Star contender.”. His streams of attempting to break the World record for any given game got a reasonable amount of viewers, with a steady fanbase that would spam inside jokes and cat emojis in chat. And in no single video did he ever show his face, or even speak. The only real communication he seemed to do with his audience was the occasional answer in chat, or text-overlays in his YouTube videos. Gon thought about how he was a little honoured to have another well known streamer actually give him advice and watch his stuff, though obviously it seemed that Kil wasn’t interested in keeping more in conta-

Bloop.

“Kil: Thanks uh, if you’d want to, we could like make a deal?”

“GON: What kind of deal? :^O”

“Kil: I could show you some tricks for casual speedrunning”

“Kil: And maybe if you want to you could show me how to get better at fortnite lol”

Gon was beaming. He wasn’t sure why, but he was grinning from ear to ear, and it didn’t even register to himself that he was already typing up a response until he hit the enter button.

“GON: Sure!!!!!! :^D!!!! Have you ever played before? We can team up with a friend of mine for the first couple rounds!”

Killua was never a child with many friends. Or any friends. Growing up sheltered by his family, with the mindset of one day inheriting a multimillion-dollar company, it was taught to him that acquaintances were convenient, friends were distractions.

When he got pulled out of school and put into home-schooling, it was because his friends at school were distractions.

When he snuck out to play with other kids in the country, he was placed on supervised house arrest, because he had been too distracted.

When he noticed his brother appearing in some weirdos YouTube video, he had to be told “That man is not my friend, he is a work associate.”

And like a drop of water can gradually tear through stone, the constant echoing of this rule tore through Killuas head. He still didn’t want to overtake the family legacy, but he knew better than to endanger others with his efforts of finding friendship. Instead, he decided to find solitary distractions, and found those in video games he first borrowed (or rather, took without being noticed) from his older brother. Gradually, he got more and more invested in video games, how they work, and the cultures surrounding them. That is how he found out about Speedrunning and streaming. Speedrunning was fascinating to the young boy. The effort to clear a game as fast as possible, faster than anyone else, past all supposed limitations a game would present casual players with. Specific tricks would look messy and incoherent to untrained eyes, but the hidden inputs were mechanical and exact. This is a distraction worth investing in.

At first, he didn’t care much about streaming or even recording his attempts. However, as he was slowly approaching Regional and World Records, there was hardly a way around it if he wanted to get verified records published. So, he started a Twitch Account, opting to go for his shortened name “Kil”, a half-assed attempt at keeping his family off of his tail. And as his collection of Top-3 Records grew, so did his audience when he was streaming attempts. When he got used enough to a game, he learned how to read chat while playing, even occasionally taking the time to answer questions, followed by a wave of excited cat emotes.

These are not friends, they are fans.

If he could continue to justify this, keep these people at a distance from him, it would be fine. Minimal interaction. No attachment. Easy enough.

It should have been easy enough.

But when he went through active play sessions of Super Mario 64 on Twitch, and he chose to tune into the first stream that popped up, it stopped being easy. It stopped being easy when he found himself laughing along with the cheery voice of the young streamer.

He wasn’t sure what he expected when he sent that first discord message. A small part of him hoped that this Gon kid wouldn’t reply. That way he could have just written him off as some vain lowtier streamer who isn’t worth Killuas time.

But of course he replied. And of course he would reply so kindly despite being contacted by a random stranger. Killua could feel something pull in his chest writing back and forth with Gon. This was just friendly- no. This was normal banter between two streamers who were exchanging helpful information. Two young, up-and-coming professionals in video game streaming, who can communicate like professionals.

Like work associates.

Work associates help each other out. They make deals. So, it would be okay if Killua would make a deal with Gon. Maybe get to know him in the progress, just a little, just enough to get a sense of his personality.

The pull in Killuas chest subsided when Gon agreed to his deal. But it would come back the first time they were on a call together, the first time Killua let someone else online hear his voice, hushed through a shitty in-ear cable headset, careful that he wouldn’t draw attention if someone were to walk past his room. And it subsided again when he heard Gon laugh at every bad joke he’d tell, loosened even more when he let himself laugh with him. Gon would try his best to follow any instructions he’d been given to learn speedrun strategies, and in turn Killua would let himself be guided through fortnite battles and aim-lessons. They worked well together, as if they had known each other for years, falling into a natural rhythm of jokes and casual conversation. This rhythm would continue for weeks, always coordinating when to call, taking turns with the games they would play.

Slowly, they started branching out to more games to play with each other. Slowly, Gon introduced Killua to his friends. Slowly, Killua got used to speaking on stream, just so Gon and he could guest-star on each other’s streams.

Through this gradual process, Killua felt like he was trapped in a pot of water, and the heat was being turned up just slow enough that he wouldn’t notice until its too late. Until the pull in his chest would threaten to tear him apart.

And then it did, as his mother raised her voice at the breakfast table, “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time on your Computer, Killua.”

“So is Milluki.” He tried to keep his voice unwavering, desperately trying to keep all of these gathered secrets behind it.

“We are just concerned of what you are doing on there; The internet has a lot of dangerous sides..” Kikyo Zoldyck was awfully good at turning her voice into a wail at any given time. Killua could feel his phone in his pocket vibrate from what he was sure was a message from Gon.

“..Maybe we should put some restriction on your use of it. Before it can start distracting you.”

#hisoillu #killugon #Hunter X Hunter #fanfiction #hxh fanfic

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zydrateacademy · 4 years ago

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Current Activities in Gaming #222 (and life in general)

Do I even have anyone left to read my stuff? Alright, I’m gonna be real here. There’s a few variables that led to my inactivity on Tumblr. Let’s break down a few. 1) It’s not as fun. And not just because nudity was removed, though let’s be honest that’s certainly a variable. Ever since the Tumblr company shuffling of leadership there’s been a few choice updates that just don’t lend well towards the community. My activity feed is mostly just memes at this point. Also, I love blogging but I’ve yet to find a different platform to do so on, but I’ll be sure to google some alternatives soon enough.

2) I’d rather just be playing. These bigger CA posts typically take an hour or two to write up. I don’t plan them, I just open the post up and let my thoughts just get dumped. An hour or two is a lot of time, and that’s plenty of time to make some headway in certain games. Maybe pausing during an MMO during a dungeon queue or a raid party reset, but I don’t think I’ve touched an MMO in a couple of years so that window has closed. As a 2a, you could also just say I just very simply haven’t been in the mood to dedicate an hour or two every couple of days.

3) Schedule switchup and fatigue. A few months ago I transferred out of front end at the grocery store I work at, and into the produce department. There was more than one chance. For one, I no longer work morning shifts (often was 7am to 1pm or noonish). That’s 5-6 hour shifts and that gives me my day to play around with. However the produce department needed a closer, so now I’m up to 8.5 hour shifts, typically 1:30 to 10pm (EST, in case that matters). I was getting 40 hours a week but I asked my boss to downgrade me to 32 instead, which is still a few more than what I was getting on front end in addition to a raise, because front end is typically the “bottom” of the retail totem pole for some reason, despite them being pretty damn important to customer experience. Regardless, at the end of almost 9 hours, I typically just come home, turn on an ASMR video on my second monitor and basically shut my brain and body down as I mindlessly plug away at whatever game I’m playing. And yes, apparently I’m ‘essential’. So I’m still working during the pandemic.

Now then. Let’s get to what I’ve been up to, and none of this is in any particular order since I’ve last posted. I must have hopped to two or three different Conan Exiles servers while ultimately settling on Oasis of Pleasure, a very ERP driven place. I spend a good month or two being active and then I just gotta wait for the next server reset and let my personal CE batteries recharge.

I’ve gotten back into Skyrim, and I really should do some scrolling to find my last CA number for that. I’ve more than doubled my hours on the special edition, and apparently it’s been just under four years since I touched it last. Right now I’m playing a sort of nonlethal thief. The Ordinator perk overhaul (which is a must have, honestly) gives the light armor tree some big bonuses to hand to hand and makes it incredibly viable even in higher difficulties. She keeps a bow and knife around for “monsters” but ultimately uses her fists against most humanoids. I’ve been trying something different during the thieves guild questline: Actually sneaking by everyone and not murdering the fuck out of every humanoid you run into. Which is an option, fun enough. You can fail the radiant quests by murdering the homeowners but most of the questline is filled with mercenaries and you can’t really ‘fail’ the main missions (though I wonder what happens if you kill that argonian?) otherwise players could block a shit load of content from themselves.

I’ve also played a hot barbarian werewolf girl, some kind of Nazgul looking woman, and some other stuff.

Hilariously I’ve yet to get a decent screenshot of my current nonlethal thief. Her kit is pretty damn basic, wearing a custom set of the guildmaster armor with the black bandoleers. Honestly she looks pretty unassuming, which is kind of the purpose. Maybe I’ll go take her hood off and get a screenshot. Some day.

After that, I will say I’ve done some preorders. I still await Bloodlines 2 and Cyberpunk 2077. Delays notwithstanding, last time I checked they’re being released at roughly the same timeframe. I also preordered Horizon Zero Dawn which I am enjoying but must admit that some elements of it are a tad underwhelming. Maybe it’s because I played a good chunk of AC:Odyssey again recently, but I grow tired of the random garbage pickup game for basic crafting. Games just can’t really stand on their own two legs anymore, and open world games seem to be stuck on a few trends they can’t shake. Running around mining for ore and picking at tree branches is not fun. It’s a side effect of HZD indeed being four years old already, but I’ll still probably get a good few dozen hours on it. Not sure if I’ll bother beating it, but I do like Aloy and her story, though I’ve been treated with some spoilers since its release so I kind of know where it’s headed. After that... Let’s check my ‘recent’ list on Steam.

So we got some Town of Salem, which has become my go-to night closer before bed most nights. Last time I made a post on it I probably only had 10-20 hours played, of which I now have over 200. I’m sure as hell a lot better than I used to be, but the All Any gamemodes still manage to make my headspin, but they lead to some hilarious moments. All other modes makes it very difficult because of the “no claim space” meta, so I like hitting AA so I can claim whatever the hell I want. I’ve wanted to get back into Dying Light but it does something dirty to my computer that always demands a hard restart. You basically can’t tab away at all, even in borderless mode. And when I try exiting, I can no longer click any tabs. So hard power button it is. It’s such a good game and it feels really good to play, but I just can’t let it force me to do hard restarts anymore. I’ve dabbled into many others and some aren’t worth mentioning too much. We got Star Wars Battlefront 2, which I was approaching with some level of skill. I like the Co-Op modes but it feels like there’s only like three maps for that. Was fun with my brother for a while but that mode needs like ten new maps. But I believe development has stopped (a while ago, too), as the team is probably working on the next thing. I’ve already posted my dealings with the likes of Mount and Blade 2: Bannerlord and Generation Zero. I never got around to beating GZ’s Alpine expansion. I got my 40 hours of it and frankly... that was enough. Good game, just lacks some depth. Some reviewers mentioned that the loop became too shallow and I can kind of agree, even though it took me 40 hours to get to that point. As for MNB, I’m sort of waiting on the more final phases of its early access. It’s basically getting patched every since week and I had trouble keeping up with all the mod downloads. So I’m thinking of doing a full uninstall (mods and all) and waiting longer down the development line. Maybe with workshop support, playing and updating will be more stable. That’s about the last I have within the last few months. I’ll probably get around to finding my last Skyrim post and pick up from where I left off.

#Gaming #PC Gaming

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pixieungerstories · 4 years ago

Text

Quarantine - 3

Part 1

Part 2

“Nick?” I wasn’t really expecting an answer. “Can you move the bed to another room?”

“I can. I don’t want to. I like having you where I can see you.”

I nodded. “I’ll go sit in the kitchen until dawn.”

“Go! To! Sleep!”

I jumped then started to shake. “Yelling at me isn’t going to help me sleep,” I muttered.

The bedroom door slammed shut. Rattling the door knob and pulling as hard as I could didn’t make it budge. “Please don’t do this,” I whimpered, then I screamed as something brushed my face.

The door opened suddenly enough that I unbalanced and fell on my ass, but a moment later I was running down the stairs and out the front door. I was at the gate before I knew what I was doing.

The cops were still right there.

“You need to go back inside ma’am!” the closest one called. After that they were all looking at me.

I paced for a moment, uncomfortably aware how odd I was behaving. I needed to get out of here. I needed a smoke. I needed to stop acting weird before they decided I had killed my neighbours.

Oh god. I was trapped in a house with a creature that probably killed the looters.

I didn’t want to face the idea that Nick was a killer.

“Ma’am! Go inside!”

“Be that as it may, you need to go back inside,” the patrolman called.

“I’m more than six feet away from you. Can’t I just stay out here near some other people and the street lights? Please?”

“You aren’t exactly dressed for the weather,” he pointed out.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I realized I was standing on my lawn in my night dress. I should go in and at least get my robe. It was in the room with Nick’s closet.

I thought about just confessing to something so that I could go with them. Prison wouldn’t have Nick. Maybe I just needed a hospital. No. That was a death sentence these days.

He was driving me off. He had flat out told me that he was good at that.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“No!” I snapped. “I’m scared.”

He gave me a pitying look but still insisted, “You need to go inside now. You will be safe in your house.”

I snorted, and swatted at the bugs that had found me.

“Go inside,” he said gently. “The last thing you need is to catch something from the mosquitos.”

I nodded slowly and headed back in to sit in the kitchen. Maybe he would let me make a pot of coffee. When I got inside the lights in the kitchen was on and the bed was set up on the main floor.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome. This is temporary. You will sleep upstairs when the walls are repaired.

“How did you pay for this?”

“You have an excellent credit rating and you aren’t spending much of your money.”

“Great. Did they say how long it would take?”

There was no answer to that.

“I guess drywallers wear masks all the time anyway,” I mused. “At least there will be some other people around.”

“Yes.”

One half the team turned up the next day. No one commented on why that was.

Either way, I worked on the concrete table out back at the very limit of the wifi during the day and concentrated on fixing up the yard after official work hours.

One of the drywallers sold me a patio umbrella.

I also got the lecture that just because the walls were up didn’t mean that it was safe to use the shower.

“You still have to get a membrane installed and your tiles up and sealed,” the guy explained.

I nodded, “You don’t happen to know a tile guy that is still working?”

He frowned, “I’ll ask around. Do you have tiles yet?”

“No,” I admitted.

“That might be the hard part. You can still find a few guys willing to come out, but all the factories are shut down.”

“Shit.”

He gave me a look of sympathy. “Yeah. There are stories of people doing penny walls or using their grandma’s china to tile just so they have a working bathroom.”

“I don’t have either of those things,” I said sadly.

He nodded, “I’ll ask around. It isn’t a big project and people might have some leftovers.”

That earned me a creepy house shaking laugh and proof that he hadn’t just left.

“It’s your fault,” he purred in my ear. “You are the one who fell asleep all those nights with decorating shows playing on repeat on your computer.”

I sighed. “Yeah, it was,” I agreed sadly. “If I hadn’t would you be haunting me right now?”

“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the value in what you are doing and I wouldn’t have spent a week keeping you alive when you got sick. Perhaps you would have been haunting me.”

I frowned, “I wasn’t sick for a week! It was only a couple of days!”

“You should check your calendar. It was a couple of days of you being sick and a week of me forcing you to breathe.”

“There is no way I lost a week without noticing!”

I kind of didn’t want to. What if he was telling the truth?

When I made it back to the kitchen, my laptop was open and had apparently been searching for bathroom tiles. ‘Fine. Whatever. Pick something nice that I can afford.”

I was afraid to ask, but I had to know, “What did he pick?”

“Yeah. I understand that. I guess I’m just doing my part to keep the economy running.”

“I really appreciate that. The whole ‘buy local’ movement ended when we weren’t allowed to leave our houses,” Nancy pointed out.

“Ok. Send me the sketches and the quote and I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days.”

I lay in bed that night and looked at the newly drywalled dining room ceiling. “What are you doing, Nick?”

“Making a home for you,” he whispered.

“Can I even afford this? You don’t have a secret money vault hidden in the walls with the razor blades, do you?”

There was a long moment of silence, then he whispered, “You could sell the wine instead of drinking it.”

I froze. “Just because it’s old doesn’t mean that it’s valuable,” I pointed out.

Something caressed my calf as he purred his reply, “But it is.”

I closed my eyes and let my body melt into the mattress. My breath caught in my throat as the touch moved up my leg. As soon as I made the noise, the contact vanished. I groaned.

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking the rules,” he grumbled from across the room.

I needed to know, “Why were there razor blades in the walls?”

I considered this, “Why were there bloody razor blades in the walls?”

He didn’t answer that one. “Why haven’t you used your little toy since I cleaned it for you?”

Now it was my turn to be silent.

“You liked that toy,” he prompted. “I liked watching you enjoy yourself. Good for everyone.”

“That’s really creepy. Can’t you just watch porn like a normal person?”

“Porn isn’t as satisfying,” he replied. Then he added, “For either of us. And I am not a normal person.”

“I noticed.”

“Would we have fucked by now if I was?” he just sounded curious. The vocal leer from a moment ago was gone.

“I would have had you arrested by now if you were.”

The low chuckle rumbled through the house at that. I closed my eyes and he stroked my face. “Let me watch,” he purred. “I can feel how badly you want.”

That made my eyes snap open. “What?”

“I can taste your fear, but also your pleasure. I enjoyed watching you cum in a way that humans can not understand. And I am very aware of your frustration.”

“What happens to my soul if a shadow … creature watches me play with myself?”

“It gets to live in a house with a happier guardian?” he suggested.

“A guardian? Is that what you are?”

“Guardian sounds better than monster or eldritch god but that’s just semantics.”

“I’m pretty sure there is a difference,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps the difference is what I’m doing at the time. And right now, I am guarding this house, taking care of you and hoping you will take care of yourself.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I joked. “I’m too damn tired!” I thought for a moment, “I need more rules, Nick.”

“Like what?” he asked in a breathy hissing rasp that sounded pretty much like how I imagined a death rattle would sound.

“Well, there’s that,” I pointed out. “Now I’m scared and I can’t see you so this is going to be another night of sitting up until I fall down.”

“You need to rest,” he murmured in a more normal voice for him. It wasn’t human sounding, but it wasn’t deliberately scary.

“Would that really make it better if you knew I was going to lick my way up your back?”

I felt the bed dip. It didn’t always do that. “I’m going to rub your back now,” he whispered. “You can tell me to stop.”

“Ok,” I acknowledge.

I wondered how you forge wine.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #oh my god they were quarantined

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