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thereceptioniststyles · 10 months ago

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Fleeting Moments

The morning sun creeps through the thin curtains, painting Harry's broad shoulders with a soft, golden hue. I trace the intricate tattoos that adorn his skin, my fingertips hesitating at the faded scars that tell a story of his rough past. We lay tangled together under the sheets, our bodies still humming with the remnants of our passion.

I feel my heart pounding in my chest, the uncertainty hanging in the air like a thick fog. Is it from the fear of what comes next, or the thrill of being with him? I can't quite tell, but I'm too lost in the moment to worry about it.

The only sound in the room is our soft, synchronized breathing, a lullaby that soothes any lingering doubts. I close my eyes and let myself get lost in the sensation of his skin against mine, the warmth of his body radiating through me.

But soon, reality will come crashing in. We both know this can't last forever. Our worlds are too different, our paths too divergent. Yet, in this moment, none of that matters. All that exists is him and me, and the unspoken promise of a love that transcends everything else.

I press a gentle kiss to his shoulder, savoring the taste of him, and silently vow to hold onto this feeling for as long as I can. Time may be fleeting, but moments like this are timeless, and I will treasure it for eternity.

As the morning light grows brighter, I can feel him stirring beside me. He turns towards me, his green eyes searching mine, and I know that he feels it too. The unspoken words that we both understand, but are too

"Harry," I whisper, breaking the silence. "What does this mean for us?"

He shifts beside me, his green eyes meeting mine for a moment before looking away. With a nonchalant shrug that causes a flicker of annoyance to flare within me, he avoids the question altogether.

"Can't we just enjoy the moment?"

I can feel my heart drop . We've been avoiding this conversation for too long, and I can't keep pretending that everything will be okay without addressing the elephant in the room.

"Harry, we can't just keep avoiding this," I say firmly, my voice betraying the hurt that's building inside of me.

He lets out a heavy sigh, his fingers absently tracing circles on my bare arm. "I know," he finally admits, his eyes still trained on anything but me.

"So what does this mean for us?" I ask again, needing to hear a definitive answer from him.

He pauses for a long moment before turning to face me fully. "I don't know," he says honestly. "But I do know that I care about you. A lot."

My heart swells at his words, but it's quickly replaced by a wave of frustration. "Then why can't we make this work? Why do we have to let our differences tear us apart?"

"Because those differences are still there," he replies with a sad smile. "And as much as I want to ignore them and just be with you, eventually they'll catch up to us."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize the truth in his words. We come from different worlds. We may have found love in each other's arms, but it's not enough to bridge the gap between our two lives.

"I don't want this to end," I whisper brokenly.

"Neither do I," he says softly, brushing away a stray tear from my cheek. "But maybe it's better if we end things now before someone gets hurt even more."

My heart breaks at his words, but deep down I know he's right. As much as it hurts, we both need to let go before it's too late.

Silently, we hold each other, cherishing the moment.

I frown, feeling the sting of his indifference, but decide to let it go for now. We both sit up, the cool air causing goosebumps to rise on our exposed skin. He glances over at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "How about I make you some breakfast?"

"Thanks," I whisper, my voice barely audible, "but I think I should head home."

"Alright," he concedes, disappointment evident in his tone. He climbs out of bed and grabs a shirt from the floor, pulling it on as I find my own clothes scattered around the room.

As we dress, my mind races, trying to decipher his true feelings. Is he really so indifferent towards me? Or is he just scared of commitment? The silence between us grows heavier, and I can't help but wonder if this is the beginning of something more or just a one-time encounter that will fade into a distant memory.

My hands grip the steering wheel as I drive home, thoughts of Harry consuming me. The streets blur together, my mind racing with questions and doubts. Pulling into my parking spot, I take a deep breath to steady myself.

I unlock my apartment door and step inside, the sudden silence amplifying my loneliness. Harry's musky cologne clings faintly to my clothes, causing my heart to ache with longing. I can't help thinking about his tattoos - the intricate designs adorning his body, each one holding a story only he can tell.

"Maybe we could have something real," I whisper to the empty room, hoping speaking my thoughts out loud might make them feel more tangible.

Seeking solace in the familiar, I turn on the TV and sink into the couch, letting the movie play as background noise while my thoughts continue to wander. I imagine tracing my fingers across Harry's inked skin, learning the secrets behind every line and curve. My eyes grow heavy as fatigue washes over me, and eventually, I surrender to sleep.

The buzz of my phone jolts me awake. Rubbing my eyes, I glance at the clock on the wall – it is the middle of the night. Picking up my phone, I see a text from Harry: "Good night."

"Good night," I type back, my thumb hovering over the send button for a moment before pressing down. With a sigh, I lean back against the cushions, setting my phone on the coffee table.

I stare at the television, not really watching the images flickering across the screen. "Is this how it's going to be?" I wonder aloud, my voice barely rising above the hum. "Just two people, dancing around the truth?"

As much as I crave answers, I know I can't force Harry to reveal his feelings. All I can do is wait and hope that, in time, our connection grows stronger and the truth finally comes to light.

I stand, legs heavy as I drag myself down the dim hallway to my bedroom. The soft amber glow of streetlights filters through the curtains, casting warmth across the room. Sleep will be my only escape from this endless sea of thoughts and emotions, so I climb into bed, pulling the covers to my chin.

As I drift off, my dreams carry me back to that night with Harry. We are entwined in each other's arms, breaths coming in shallow gasps as we lose ourselves in a world where nothing else matters but us. In the hazy realm of dreams, I can almost feel the heat of his body pressed to mine, and I cling to the sensation, desperate for it to be real.

I feel Harry's chest rumble against me as he chuckles softly. "I don't know, Ayla, but it feels right, doesn't it?" he whispers.

"It does," I reply, my heart swelling with both happiness and uncertainty. I had whispered his name in my sleep, my voice barely audible. Now here we are, together in this moment that feels so right yet fills me with such mixed emotions.

The jarring beep of the alarm shatters my dream, dragging me back to wakefulness. I let out a groan, slapping at the snooze to buy myself a few more minutes of sleep. Blinking my eyes open, the hazy details of the dream slip away, leaving behind a lingering sense of warmth. Though Harry and I have yet to define things between us, at least I know there's a spark of something there. He feels it too.

With a determined mindset, I pushed myself out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. The warm glow of the sunrise filtered through the window, giving my skin an ethereal glow. Today was not just any ordinary day, it was a chance to impress – to look my best for work and for Harry. I meticulously applied my makeup, taking extra care to blend eyeshadow onto my lids and perfectly smooth out my foundation until my reflection glimmered back at me with undeniable confidence. Every stroke of the brush felt like painting a masterpiece, the final touch on this morning ritual before heading out into the world.

Maybe today will be different, I thought as I slipped into my favorite dress. Maybe today, we'll find the courage to talk about what happened.

As I brushed my hair, I couldn't help but glance at the clock, anxiety gnawing at the pit of my stomach. I didn't want to be late – not today, when so much was at stake.

"Alright, let's do this," I murmured, taking a deep breath before grabbing my purse and keys and stepping out of my apartment.

The morning sun greeted me as I locked my door behind me, its warm rays casting a golden glow on the world. With each step I took towards my car, my heart beat faster in anticipation – for today held the promise of answers, and maybe even a new beginning.

The engine of my car hummed softly as I pulled into my usual parking space at work, my hands gripping the wheel with a sense of determination. My heart, however, felt like it was about to burst from my chest. Today was the day – the day I would face Harry and finally discuss our relationship.

"Okay," I whispered to myself, taking another deep breath to steady my nerves. "I can do this."

As I exited the car, my heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement, each step echoing in the still morning air. The front doors of the office building loomed ahead, and I couldn't help but steal a glance at my reflection in the glass as I approached, noting with satisfaction that my extra effort had paid off – I looked stunning.

"Morning, Ayla!" chirped Sarah, the receptionist, as I entered the lobby. "You look amazing today!"

"Thank you, Sarah," I replied with a smile, trying my best to sound casual. "I just felt like dressing up a bit."

"Whatever the reason, it's working," said the receptionist, giving her a knowing wink.

I felt a flush rise in my cheeks, wondering if Sarah could somehow tell what was going on between me and Harry. I shook off the thought as I walked over to the front desk, scanning the room for any sign of him.

"Is Harry here yet?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice steady.

"Actually, no," Sarah responded, checking her computer screen. "He hasn't swiped in yet. That's odd; he's usually one of the first ones here."

My heart sank. I tried to hide my disappointment, offering a small, tight-lipped smile. "Well, I'm sure he'll be here soon," I said, turning away from the desk and heading towards my own workspace.

I spent the rest of the morning trying to focus on my tasks, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. Was he avoiding me? Had last night's text been a way of saying goodbye?

"Maybe he just overslept," I reasoned with myself, glancing at the clock every few minutes, counting the seconds until our usual lunchtime rendezvous.

But as the hours ticked by, it became apparent that Harry wasn't coming – not today, at least. I felt an odd mixture of hurt and confusion welling up inside me, tears threatening to spill over onto my carefully applied makeup.

"Get yourself together," I chastised myself in a whisper, wiping away a single tear before it could fall. I couldn't afford to let my emotions get the best of me – not now, when there were still so many unanswered questions

Despite the heavy feeling in my chest, I resolved to carry on, hoping against hope that tomorrow would bring the answers I so desperately sought. But for today, all I had was the lingering scent of his cologne.

I run my fingers over my lips, still tingling from the kisses we shared. I remember the feeling of Harry's hand in mine, his touch electric and comforting at the same time. And now, the ache of his absence leaves a physical weight upon my chest.

The softness of his lips against mine, the way his fingers traced a path down my spine, sending shivers through my body. The memory of his touch still palpable, even in his absence.

Memories of our stolen night together rushed through me, my fingertips tingling as I remembered the touch.

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ingravinoveritas · 1 year ago

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MY GOODNESS THAT TV INSIDER SNIPPET WHERE YOU CAN SEE THEM MOVE PHYSICALLY CLOSER TO EACH OTHER IN ABOUT 20 SECONDS. UGHHH. DAVID WAS LITERALLY HALF OFF HIS SEAT TO BE CLOSER TO MICHAEL

Hi, Anons! Oh, gosh, I love both of these so much. Putting them together because I think there's a definite connection worth discussing.

So first, Anon #2 I know you must be referring to the new interviews with Michael and David that have come out the past few days (on Screen Rant Plus, Movieweb, etc.). Anon #1 is referring to another clip that just came out today, so I'll put the video up here for anyone who hasn't seen it and then discuss it further down this post:

Anon #2, how beautifully you have phrased your observation, and I could not possibly agree with you more. I've noticed a lot of people saying that Michael and David look sad or miserable, but I don't think that is the case at all. Well, a couple of things: 1) We have no idea when these interviews were recorded, though if I had to guess I'd say within the last month or two, and if that is the case, Michael was still directing/working nonstop on The Way, so that would explain him looking tired (along with running around after two little kids all the time). 2) I'm fairly certain that a large part of them not looking at each other is because they are trying not to give anything away about the second season, and Michael and David both know they won't be able to keep quiet if they make even the tiniest bit of eye contact.

3) I fully agree with your assertion that the lack of staring shows how close Michael and David have become, because to me, it also means that they no longer feel a need to be "on" around each other. They've both spoken in the past about how much they hate doing interviews/photo shoots, and that it became far more bearable when they had each other. That was the case four years ago, and now we've all gone through a global pandemic and some of the darkest times in our lives. That naturally strips away any sense of pretense--seeing someone at their worst, or when they're sick or afraid. I get the feeling that Michael and David have been through all of that and where so many other relationships/marriages fell apart, their relationship is even stronger now as a result. They love and accept each other exactly as they are, and it shows.

Finally, 4) What you said about Michael not staring at David makes my heart ache and seems so true. On the season 1 press tour, he was already in love, but didn't know when they would see each other again. I'm reminded of that one interview where they both suddenly seem to realize the press tour is coming to an end, and they don't know when they'll see each other next:

vimeo

"Can we just...see each other? For no reason?"

He doesn't even have to ask that question now. Michael doesn't have to keep his eyes on David every moment because he has already memorized his whole face, the stubble on his skin, the softness of his lips. And he knows with perfect certainty that he will never be without David in his life again.

And this all fits in beautifully with the video you've mentioned, Anon #1, because they absolutely do move closer to each other in that video, and not only does it look like they did it completely unconsciously, but David seems to actually mirror Michael:

Michael is the first one to move closer, as we see above, and then right after he does, David moves closer. And again, they're not staring at each other the whole time. nor do they seem to be playing up their "personas"--Michael and David are just being themselves, and their natural inclination is to be close to each other. (Also, Michael's fucking wiggle right after he moves is killing me, because I think he only does that when he's very, very happy...)

Absolutely beautiful. I so appreciate you both sharing your thoughts with me, Anons. Thanks for writing in! xx

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #saying a lot by saying very little #so soft and lovely #the energy between them just crackles #so much warmth and affection #i don't know if i believe in fate but i believe in them #ineffable lovers #discourse #gif by me

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peachjagiya · 9 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/peachjagiya/747891487375753216/im-not-a-shipper-and-definitely-in-no-way-a-jkkr?source=share

Asks like these makes me realise that people still don't understand people tbh. You don't have to believe in taekook to comprehend human interaction with themselves and society. Everyone lies and especially people behind cameras. There is nothing wrong with it if the intent is good. This whole omission/tweaking of facts made me realise how bh sticks to jkk narrative with subtitles, cuts and emphasing on moments. Remember: serendipity as a choice for Jk's fave, hickey emphasis, them sharing cars. Bh also does it for taekook but in reverse like telling Jungkook even v left him after the tasks etc. the issue is not whether he left or not but to point out things to suit their narrative.

Unfortunately members also have to play their parts as well. Like I found it weird that jin had to emphasize twice on Tae's being absent for Jungkook's birthday last year. And it's not only members but taekook themselves who have done it. In fact Tae has alluded so many times that Jungkook doesn't give him time in the earlier days but goes to Jimin but then we see incidences like Jungkook's shoes outside his room and speaker in his hotel room. Anyone remember that may 2019 live where taekook showed such a big drama of tae exiting the room and mysterious flying wrappers. Yeah his room was def haunted. 🙄

It's not like they have never been on individual lives when the other is present (the live before Jungkook recorded his GCF Newark, Tae is clearly present and shown sitting near the table, though Jungkook shifted the camera so quickly). My point is they have to show that taekook don't spend time together without members or other people.

My advice to the anon is to keep an open mind and see how taekook drives the narrative that they are close but not like a couple coz they gotta protect themselves. Them implying they are not sharing room, when they do sometimes. Not staying together after outings (reverse lives) or mostly only disclosing their group outings. That whole its awkward talk. Though sometimes I feel Tae gets frustrated with how people hate taekook and let's it slip how he and Jungkook are so close. You see all this them not being together on important days are their way of protecting themselves. It's not a matter of if they were or were not but to make their point home that there is nothing between them.

They live in SK darling. We don't know how their families, friends, company, military, general public gonna react if they get outed. So even if they don't like they have to drive this narrative home. It's sad though when I really think about it but feel very proud when I seem them treasuring and protecting what they have in adverse conditions.

Sorry Jo for the long "essay" 😂

☝️☝️

There's so much to protect for all 7 of them. Not just potential same sex couple in their group but potential girlfriends they might have, opinions they might hold, habits they might have that fans won't like.

History shows fans act very entitled with stuff they don't like. So of course they'll limit our access to it.

None of this essay was calling TKKrs delusional and generally being really really rude so you're fine 😂💜

#my asks #truthbending

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vinxwatches · 1 year ago

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watching good omen season 1

ep 1 pilot

haven't seen a lot of it, mostly that people like it, that it's made by people people really like and that it's gay (or at least people make it gay) so you know, good pick for me. and i just watched to animations/animatics on youtube with bad endings and bad endings fuck me up, so hopefully this is happier. intro is a fucking banger. also god has a fem voice? nice. accurate skin colour for the earliest humans. not surprised, but appreciated. making fun of theology and great banter? i love it.

ominous picnic basket. oh... actually quite biblically fitting it seems. i REALLY hope they don't expect me to remember these names too well. many of the characters seem fun though.

of course the american politician says bs like "a regular y chromosome son". which i'm sure has not been tested as you 1: don't know the gender yet. 2: phenotype does not denote genotype.

i wonder who and how they'll figure out who has the wrong baby. "i don't recall what horror of history we had a lunch over, but i do recall what we had." the BEST dynamic.

will they even figure out they got the wrong one? ok, i know that working with an actual 5 year old would be a nightmare... but that kid is like 12.

well done making both heaven and hell look like shit. do you want grime overpopulating or empty, liminal, office spaces?

brilliant end of episode 1.

ep 2 the book

damn the forces of hell are so bloody rude and evil. and so many quick jokes.

question: what are the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse supposed to be in christianity? both biblically and in modern belief? they are separate from devils and angels.

i love a witch that also uses an ipad in her rituals.

"sorry, right number" seriously the humour in this show is so brilliant. i really hope the story is able to match it.

ep 3 hard times

a black knight shrugging is way too funny. i love these two. just two old friends helping each other out, it's just that that's diametrically opposing one another. the angel doing some tempting, the demon some miracles. and upper management doesn't care.

awh, they are just so cute together.

excuse me you are playing intro now? 28 minutes in? that's not an intro. that's a bloody intermission!

they really succeed at making heaving seem so extremely bad. extremely wide shot or extreme close-up. it's so incredibly uncomfortable.

the prime minister has a nice flat chested fucker in his bed.... good for him if he's not cheating.

"mend it all"/"end it all" whispers. really neat.

ep 4 saturday morning funtime

of course he was condemned for nothing more then asking questions.

ah, they got rid of pestilence to replace them with pollution. it's a good change, but feels pretty pre 2020.

oh no, i find his death so sad. he had a love, why kill him? i know the apocalypse is coming but still.

i still really hope that the presidents son turns out to be trans to just break the things he said at the start. then again it wouldn't really work as it's not the kids he said it about. idk, i guess i hope of screen son turns out to be trans to spite the person that'll never know... yea i'm holding out hope for something that doesn't matter.

azi being send to heaving is SO bad. his bookshop possibly burning down is emotionally worse. it was going to be the last episode of the day. but i started watching because i couldn't deal with bad endings, so i guess i'll have to watch one more.

ep 5 the doomsday option

Azi going full rogue (finally).

man that's the most obvious cold reading ever.

the guard reads a neil gaymen book. cute.

sir... your car is... more then a little on fire.

ep 6 the very last day of the rest of their lives

are we doing a flash back episode for the last episode of the season?

oh, please let him rebuild the car just like i want the bookshop rebuild?

the way to defeat the end of the world is to believe and stand (and i hope work) for a world that wouldn't end. a bit on the nose but very nice.

and of course with Terry Pratched being involved death is not to be defeated, just not hastened along.

a kid not doing the one thing they were supposed to do.... there's a trans/gay message in there. also That's Just What Kids Do! you wanted an 11 year old to do what they were told? that's the first part of the problem.

for a TV series that's a pretty good satan. oh that is SO clever. kind of time fucking, but not really so long as you never introduce time travel so it's only true from now on. oh, is it a nicer ending then i though? YES IT IS! \o/

it "ends" as it starts: with a garden and an apple. ok, make it more explicit why don't you.

oh, you subtle bastards. i love it. other scene's now make more sense too, oh how i love it.

ok, yea it makes sense people go wild over this as it's really bloody great.

#good omens #good omens season 1

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jeffgerstmann · 1 year ago

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I knew Nick Khan and Triple H weren't talking to Meltzer or any of the other bottomfeeders. Now some of them are trying to attribute Seth Rollins being mad at Punk in front of the crowd as evidence of "real life heat" and a portent of drama to come. Stay classy, fuckers.

I think the amount of stupidity on everyone's part here is really sad in a "media literacy" or "how the real world works" or "are people really this dumb?" kind of way.

Like, as one example, people are out there saying OH SHIT THIS GUY SAID PUNK WASN'T SIGNED A COUPLE WEEKS AGO AND HE WAS WRONG FUCK HIM WHY DO PEOPLE TRUST THIS PERSON GRRRRR. But back when that reporter reported that... that was true. By WWE's own admission this thing came together super last-minute. It's like people don't understand that the whole "plans change, pal" thing is actually real. Plans change. Things come together late. Things that weren't even close to happening sometimes happen all at once. That's true of video games, wrestling, business. And the number of people who never seem to grasp that is something I find... I don't know, a little distressing at times.

I assume the reactions on the roster to CM Punk returning are all over the place, much like is being reported, because it's a big roster. Lots of people, lots of relationships, wrestlers talk, whatever you want to attribute it to. But the people who are trying to say WOW THAT SETH ROLLINS SURE WAS MAD AFTER THAT SHOW THAT'S REAL are extra fucking tragic. Even if he didn't know, he knows he's on camera, he knows he's in front of a crowd, and he's a professional. Even if he isn't working he's working, you know what I mean?

Anyway, I find the whole setup intriguing but I can't immediately think of must-see matches involving Punk and the existing WWE roster. And it's hard to envision who Punk is, as a character, if he isn't just shitting all over the situation he just got out of, which I don't think WWE will want to dwell on very much, if at all. I assume they'll have him work Rollins and maybe try to play off of that interview where Rollins shat all over Punk. I don't know.

Even that feels too inside, so it'll probably end up being "back in the SHIELD days you treated us like shit" or whatever, just to ground it in something a little less "inside" or "real" or whatever. Even in modern interviews you have to imagine a person talking direct shit about another wrestler is still thinking "I'll probably wrestle this guy again someday." So even taking that interview at face value feels a little tough. Whatever.

It's left me curious to see what they'll do, but not in a "I can't wait to see what CM Punk does next" sort of way. More of a "The thrill is gone and CM Punk kinda feels a little used up these days, I hope they'll find something entertaining for him to do" thing.

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we-pay-for-everything · 1 year ago

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Nancy Drew, season 4, episode 8 review (spoilers!):

So, this episode was very heavy on Nace, but I can't say I loved it? I loved that the episode was about them, and I loved them working together, actually talking, realizing they're better together even as friends, and that they can still bring out the best in each other, but the last minutes of the episode lowkey bothered me. Nancy had a huge growing moment when she opened up to Nick, George and Bess at The Claw but it was after Ace left. She called them family, they had a group hug, and then she celebrated her mom with all her family but Ace. That part bothered me! I know everything's always so tense with them now, but isn't Ace Nancy's family too? Isn't that the whole point of the episode - that they are still friends and always will be? Ace would've wanted to be there for Nancy and he was excluded. It's like now that he's the ex he can't be family - he's below the others when it really matters? It's all about epic love and angst now, but stuff like connection, trust, companionship - all of that can't apply to them anymore? It's always the same thing in media. There's this idea in mainstream "feminism" that friends > lovers. But, like, why? Aren't boyfriends supposed to be closer to you than friends? Is Nancy and Ace's love any less special and meaningful because it's romantic now? Is their love worth less now that it's fully romantic? Ace's part of their group and he was literally the only person not at Nancy's house.

Also, I kept waiting for either Nancy or Ace to accidentally use the back door or whatever. I feel like that's how they are going to fix their death curse? They'll forget each other? Or at least one of them will, but they'll get together anyway and cheat death? Ace went finishing for a reason. That whole scene was about more than father-son bonding. Oh, and also, Ace's dad is less of an ass this season, but I can't forget how he kicked out his son out for accidentally revealing his dirty secret. I can't forget how Ace's mom did nothing and left her son alone after being kicked out of his home. She sided with the man who lied to her. Women always fucking do this. They always side with their husbands, it's pathetic. And even when she saw him for the first time in another episode, she barely asked how she was... Honestly...

I wasn't expecting the body swap and felt a bit of foreboding when it happened, but the writers successfully avoided clichés! But it's odd that it wasn't a bigger deal actually. The actor who plays Nick, Tunji Kasim, did one hell of a fucking job playing Bess. He 100% nailed it, from top to bottom! Kennedy McMann, who plays Nancy, did a great job with Ace's stoner, deadpan look. I think Alex Saxon did a good job playing Nancy too. They all did well, including Maddison Jaizani, but I think the actress who plays George, Leah Lewis, is the weakest one in the cast. She didn't stand out.

Sadly, I'm 99% sure Ryan is going to die this season. I don't know if that's his redemption arc, or if they want to make Nancy sad, but I'm pretty sure he's gone die unnecessarily, if anything for shock value since this is the last season and, aside from the gang, he's probably the most beloved character...

Hmm, I don't know... what do you guys think? I'm not in the fandom so I don't know what the fan theories are. I'll see if I can find some!

#nancy drew #cw nancy drew #ace nancy drew #nace #nancy drew cw #nancy x ace #I don't know how to tag for this show

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valiant-portabella-pirkko · 7 months ago

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so, I played through the remainder of the expansion and the new meta. I want to take some time to put my full impression together, but first I'll give some thoughts below the cut.

realistically? I think it's about what I expected, and arguably the best-case-scenario given what the rest of the releases have been.

I'm gonna say something controversial.

I don't think them leaving plot threads open here is necessarily a bad thing. I actually would rather they did that than rush it and hurry up to close up everything 'neatly' in a way that was littered with plot holes and butchered characterizations. it's a lot easier to pick up where they left off than to have a bunch of REALLY atrocious, frustratingly contradictory writing that they then have to either retcon or ignore later. additionally, they killed off a LOT less characters than I was expecting, and that leaves many doors open.

my biggest concern had been them killing off a bunch of characters in really cheap ways just to get rid of them and/or build up Eparch as a more serious threat, and I'm glad they didn't go that route. that's not to say I dislike character death, but I only like it when it's done well and feels consistent with the characters involved. (Blish, Tonn, and Almorra all come to mind as really good examples there)

I'm gonna say something else controversial, too.

I don't think we've seen the last of Zojja, nor do I think she's entirely lost her memories-- and I also don't think this is the last we'll see of the Wizards, either. there's a LOT of little moments where she slips up and calls us the Commander still, even at the very end, despite her having ascended after they've switched titles to the Wayfinder. if she really had no memories, calling us Wayfinder would be what comes more naturally to her because that's what everyone else is doing. now whether they'll dig into the implications of this later or not I can't say, but I do think it's OPEN for them to do so at a later time, especially with all the very obvious weirdness of the Ward.

I strongly suspect that this could be the beginning of a much larger arc; whether that will be the case or not I can't say, but there's a lot of little hints scattered around the epilogue that tie Wizard stuff into other plotlines we could explore. on top of that, the Commander still has the Heart of the Obscure, and they vanished for months. while Isgarren currently seems determined to keep the Ward a secret, I don't think he's necessarily going to have a choice in the matter. there's also the question of Waiting Sorrow and what she was up to; I very strongly suspect we'll be learning more about her eventually. if that's the case, that may be where we finally really see all the uncomfortable details among the Wizards come to a head. the setup is definitely there to do more and I would personally welcome that.

now all that said, I will also say: it's obvious there are issues.

I won't say I love the state SotO is in, but I don't hate it. it's not great, but it's also not horrible. OVERALL, I still enjoyed playing and I don't regret buying it. I would have had some buyer's remorse if I nabbed the higher priced bundles, but I didn't because I was anticipating it being a lot less than previous expansions. kind of a shame that my guess was right, but it is what it is. personally, most of the value of the expansion for me comes from the features that came with it, and the open world metas are actually pretty decent imo.

there's clearly a drastically reduced emphasis on story instances, and it makes me sad if that's going to be the precedent moving forward. it doesn't terribly surprise me though with how many people on the forums etc would complain about doing story and beg to skip it all, even back when it had a lot more going on. if their time and resources are limited, it makes sense to put them into things that the most players will get more mileage out of-- open world, new mechanics, mastery lines, weapon specs, and so on. it's a shame, but I get it.

I'll probably talk a lot more about this at a later time, but while this expansion was nowhere near the level of previous ones, imo it's much less a matter of being bad and more that there's just not enough there for it to be good. it has some really great moments, but there aren't enough of them to carry the rest. it's just... okay. which, ultimately, is survivable, at least in the short term. it has done severe damage to the trust of its players though, and that's something they're going to have to work very, very hard to earn back.

anyway, that's just my take. do with that what you will.

#my posts #soto spoilers #gw2 #guild wars 2 #secrets of the obscure

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smaller-comfort · 1 year ago

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It always comes down to the classics, right? Orpheus and Eurydice, never knowing who will emerge from the darkness with you; Pandora's Box, and the things you can't undo.

Anyway, here's the finale and the coda (which is like an epilogue except it's a musical term; when you play a coda, you go back to the beginning again see what I did there) wherein I go completely off the rails into wild and speculative AU territory. Look at those new pairing tags. I can't believe I quoted The Last Unicorn in the chapter summary. Utterly shameless.

Extensive notes below the cut, because I like to hear myself talk.

Monk is like a baby butch trying desperately not to fumble this sad divorced cougar a second time. It's fine. They'll figure it out. They might even be good for each other; there certainly aren't very many things that would make either of them worse.

A silly little joke about tomatoes evolved into all of this. Over 9000 words! There are themes! Or an attempt at themes, anyway, and an attempt at laying the groundwork for some sort of narrative arc from beginning to end. I tried to make each character scene tie together in some way; I hope I succeeded.

Ninja still doesn't know how to spell PTSD; I should probably add Ninja/A Fucking Nap (unrequited) to the pairing tags.

Writing this was a blast, honestly. Embrace the cringe, be free, write it weird and self-indulgent and unhinged. I keep laughing at my own jokes; this is the longest piece of fanfic I have ever finished and published.

I still might write the sequel where Ninja gets pegged properly. He deserves something nice.

The real epilogue is actually just Shopkeeper and Phantom taking turns curb stomping Resh'an in the void, because if they have to learn to live with their inescapable grief, so does he. This all kind of ties into another WIP I have on deck- I have to make sure I don't just directly crib any Shopkeeper's lines for Resh'an, because they're both out here doing horrible things hoping that the end will someday bring an absolution for the things they've done.

It won't, and they just have to live with it, anyway. I was originally going to have Phantom get into that with Shopkeeper in the coda, but I wanted to wrap things up neatly.

"Of course I did. How could I have ever sent it to anyone else?" The final scene didn't originally have Shopkeeper doing a secret identity reveal, but then that line got suck in my head and I figured why not make everything even more fucked up. (Still firmly in speculative AU territory, really. I think it's more likely for Shopkeeper to be Phantom and Muse's kid than anything else, honestly.)

Okay, so here's Phantom, and this is Phantom's ex-wife, Shopkeeper, but it was an amicable divorce, they still hang out sometimes. And this is Shopkeeper's girlfriend, Monk, and Monk's hapless twunk Ninja (they are in a lesbian-centric semi-non-sexual throuple)-

Look, I think I am hilarious.

Shopkeeper and Monk mostly just flirted outrageously with each other back in the day. Monk is less concerned with romance than she is with being forgiven, which probably isn't clear enough in the story.

I'm still halfway convinced that I should reformat it as a one shot, but I also think I am very funny in some of those chapter notes, so I'll probably leave it. Over 9000 words!

#nattering #the messenger #my fic

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babykentthegent · 10 months ago

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On Cloud Nine Months

The fact that Kent will be one-year-old in just three months seems impossible. My broken record statement is saying how fast time seems to be going by. All that to say, Kent is growing into such a fun, loving, and active little human. The last month has been about trying new things, learning new things, and going on new adventures!

When it comes to solids, Kent LOVES to eat. He is still warming up to certain foods, like berries or anything he deems too tart. He now has six visible teeth in the front which has somehow made his smile even more adorable. We just went to his 9-month checkup and learned he's as healthy as a horse. That's our #1 priority, so we're happy!

We broke out the hiking backpack for an afternoon walk with the dogs at the park. Don't let his tired look deceive you, he loved it! Overall, Kent is a happy baby. We get comments from friends and family all the time about how he doesn't cry, he's always smiling, and just what a good baby he is. We are here to inform everyone that he does in fact cry, but typically it's only when one of his core needs hasn't been met. I like to think that the book Happiest Baby on the Block really helped us, so highly recommend to new parents. Now 9-months in, we just try to do our best to predict his needs before he gets to that point. See exhibit A (above) of Kent with his friend Mina when he is super tired. He's also starting to notice when we leave him with the nanny or other people as he's more aware of what's going on.

One of the biggest highlights over the last month was our first ever family road trip to Cali. Being my family and I are originally from California, it was a family tradition growing up that Rob and I have vowed to do with Kent. Our first drive was to Chico/Oroville, which took us roughly 11 hours. There, we spent time with Kent's "Opa and Gigi". Even though my mom is no longer with us, the house felt warm, comforting, and I still felt her presence. Gina was kind enough to watch Kent one day so mom and dad could spend some time with my stepdad. It was a short, but nice visit.

Our second stop was Bakersfield to visit Kent's cousins and auntie. They LOVED Kent! Our niece, Olivia, was fortunate enough to have met Kent when he was a wee baby in WA, but this was Riley's first time meeting the baby. Seeing Kent with them really warmed our hearts. We were sad to only get to stay for a day, but were so glad we spent time together. The morning we were getting ready to leave, Riley was showing Kent how to crawl, after we shared with him that Kent was so close to crawling. Then, before our eyes, Kent mimicked his cousin and crawled for the first time! I could tell Riley felt special that he got to witness this and my mouth was hurting from grinning so much. What a wonderful way to give them our sendoff.

The final stop on our trip was in Long Beach to see my brother, sister-in-law, and more cousins of Kent's! The three kids were obsessed with Kent, which was fun to watch. The littlest, Kalei, kept showing Kent his toys, explaining things to Kent as if he understood, and dubbed him his buddy. With them being the closest in age out of all of Kent's cousins, I have a feeling they'll be fast friends. Even the two older kids, Kai, and Kamaile, showed a lot of interest in Kent. My sister also came over from Fullerton to spend time with us. The best way to describe it was happy chaos, which is honestly what I grew up with so it felt comforting and familiar.

We spent the days with my sister visiting the Long Beach aquarium and stopping by Laguna Beach. Kent really enjoyed the aquarium, admittedly more than I thought he would. At one point they had a star fish petting area, but Kent thought he could just play and splash in the water. Both embarrassing and hilarious. He loved the jelly fish the most. At the beach, it was Kent's first time seeing the ocean and touching sand. He was not a fan of the freezing cold water, but he did like the sand. He liked the sand so much that he took a giant handful and swiftly forced it in his mouth. I tried my best to get it out, but that's how kids learn I guess, haha!

This trip really filled our cups and reminded me how important it is to spend time with family. I didn't realize how much I needed that, but truly it just made us so happy to see Kent meet more of his family and making memories together, even if he doesn't remember. He was most certainly the star of the show! Kent also did surprisingly well in the car AND his favorite word on this trip was "mama" which has been music to my ears. We are hoping to make this an annual trip, either driving or flying to Cali. As for what we have to look forward to in the upcoming month:

Baby Proofing - Now that Kent is crawling, we need to further baby proof the whole house. We are in trouble!

Swim Lessons - Kent starts swim lessons on 3/9!

Hiking Trips - Now that Spring is around the corner and the weather is somewhat warming up, we hope to get out in nature more.

A huge thank you to our family for hosting us. We are beyond grateful to you and love you so much. Thanks for reading - until next time!

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zingaplanet · 2 years ago

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What are your thoughts on Rafole? I fell down a rabbit hole on everything regarding them and their relationship and it’s very interesting how they went from being quite close to not…

My darling I love u but I'm trying to stay djoko-free and drama-free so I'm rlly not the best person to ask this hahahaha. Either way I don't think I'm qualified to speak about their relationship simply because I don't know much about it? I'll give my best perception but honestly take it with a kilo of salt lol. I seem to remember there was a falling out over Djokovic's father at some point (or was that with Federer?)

All I know is Novak's relationship with Rafa wasn't the only one that kinda suffered this fate. I don't think Novak was ever close with Roger to begin with, but pretty sure him and Murray used to be quite good mates (they were kinda childhood friends on the tour and played doubles) but that kinda fizzled out in the end. Nadal, Djokovic, Murray were kind of a strange teenager friend group at some point, simply I assume cause they're basically just from the same generation on the tour (they played together since juniors as well) and used to play video games n football together i think.

A bit strange cause I don't think Rafa and Andy's friendship ever really got strained. But then again it's completely understandable within an environment as competitive as them (considering the Nadal-Djokovic rivalry is much more competitive and tbf to Andy maybe, I too would find it difficult to be besties with somebody who beat me 6 times in an AO final 😭).

Don't think there's any point in guessing round the dynamics of the men's tour's locker room throughout the years. It definitely is fascinating, tennis is prob the only sport where you have to share locker rooms with your rivals every day of the year, something here and there are bound to happen, I guess. I bet you there are a shiton of gossips more scandalous than the royal family there throughout the 2000s but I also guess that there's a kind of unspoken code of conduct that you shouldn't ever talk about it? Which is why even the retired players never really did (look at A-Rod he's the biggest gossiper there is even he never said anyth about shits going down in the locker room lol).

Whether it was simply them growing up, having families, becoming more serious in their careers and hence more competitive with each other then grew apart or was there an actual internal friction/conflict I don't really know. Not that we'd ever know for sure I think, they'll prob never ever disclose it for PR reasons (maybe when they're retired). For me, Djokovic seems like quite a lone wolf on tour (?) which is quite sad, but maybe that's the way he prefers to stay competitive. He generally seems to have a kind of joker persona that's either well-liked or a bit divisive n he seems close with his Serbian countrymen although never really to the level of friendship with any specific one of them like Nadal did with Marc Lopez or Federer did with Wawrinka. This is all just my perception of course n could be 1000% wrong.

Anyhow, as the two remaining of the big 3 and looking at the way they interact (in laver cup and in charity matches in the AO for instance) i think it's obv that their relationship has grown into one of massive respect for one another, there's still a hint of kind of an old banter there sometimes (look at when they partnered up for the AO relief last year), but it doesn't seem like they have much of a personal relationship nowadays beyond that of respectful, competitive rivals who drove each other at the last leg of their careers.

Rafa and Andy are different tho, quite evident in the way Rafa invited him to his insta live and them interacting by challenging each other to play playstation afterwards. Even in Novak and Andy's insta live, I seem to remember there was a section where Novak said he was actually really glad to be able to do this instalive with him cause they "never had the chance to talk about this kind of things (personal stuffs) before" seemingly kinda hinting that they've been cordial and friendly these days but they never really ✨️ held each other's hands✨️ if u know what i mean lol.

Ok i could do a full on analysis of their interactions or instalives but this will take me 5 lifetimes lol. All in all, I just wanna be honest that I don't, emm how do i put this, really get Djokovic? I can't seem to get a read on him as a person, which is quite strange. I read politicians' faces for a living and I feel like you can always tell what someone is like based on their public persona a little bit cause nobody can hide that well without injecting a bit of themselves into their PR front (Federer is like the most PR perfect guy ever but even sometimes he slips up). Djokovic is just... really hard to read? Although ppl see him as the joker etc I always kinda feel that he's a very closed off person, at least with his personal thoughts. I don't really know what's going through his mind when he does certain things sometimes. But hey, each to their own right?

Again anon, you have alas triggered again this aimless rambling of mine, but there you go, one must eat the fruit that they've picked, (What even is this saying lol, sorry!)

#ah ok my jstor rambling is triggered a bit lol #srsly are u guys even interested in this kind of long asks lol #tennis #djokovic #nadal

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bunny-hoodlum · 2 years ago

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Idle Hands - Chapter Three "Still an Outcast, Still an Asshole"

Crossposting the revision here as the chapter is significantly longer with all the new scenes I added. <3 Heavy angst ahead!

The adults were talking. That's what his inner voice was telling him, in spite of all the other noise bouncing around in the forefront, things he was thinking about, things he was on the precipice of saying aloud unprompted and unasked for, all stemming from that all-consuming need for attention.

Five years old, sitting in the shadow of the hallway, kicking his legs over the shallow ledge facing the genkan, he kept himself restrained like his daddy asked, even though this part was incredibly boring.

The old man with crazy white hair was taking directions from his dad who stood outside the front door.

A stranger's apartment. That's where he would stay for the day.

Naruto kept kicking and kicking, his gaze fixed on his dad's face. He's going to grow up to look exactly like him and it makes his heart dance with pride.

He's always been a momma's boy, but lately he hasn't been able to see her.

Instead, his dad gets to see her. But he promises they'll be together again soon, that she isn't ready yet but she will be. Soon. Very soon.

Because of mom, his dad is very hard to get a hold of, so Naruto is always devising ways to get his attention, his approval.

His mom loves his jokes, so he's been trying to show his dad how funny he is.

Standing on tables and doing a silly dance. Copying things he's heard on television. Mocking the people his dad likes to complain about.

He's been pulled down and scolded. Lectured not to say those things, just because he heard two adults say it. Not to openly mock others because it's bad manners.

He's always trying to capture the essence of amusement that passes through his brain and turn it into something that his dad will understand.

He's been telling his own jokes the whole ride over but his dad didn't seem to like them. Telling jokes, he figured, might not be his thing.

But this new thing he's been working on isn't like the other things he was told to stop doing, not even close. So the chances of it being well-received were good!

Naruto's stomach rumbled like it always did and he laid his hand over his belly. Inspiration struck and his dad was about to leave.

Everyone laughs at this! Even the kids at the playground!

"Hey! Hey, dad! Dad! I can play the trumpet! Wanna see?!" Naruto didn't even wait. He turned around and bent over, taking the position of an angry skunk. Wincing, he farted. Stopped. Farted again. It didn't sound like music at all, though. His stomach began to hurt.

The hall exploded with gravelly laughter, swelling his head with pride when he turned around to gauge his audience.

His heart dropped. Then his smile.

The old man was cracking up.

But his dad… his dad's never looked at him like that before. It chilled him into silence. He sat his butt down and watched him say a few last things to the old man.

The door closed, followed by the old man's sigh.

He patted his head as he stepped into the hall, walking past him.

"Don't let it get to you, kid. Your dad's going through a lot, right now. Just… don't add to his plate, alright?"

Naruto pushed to his feet and whirled around, following after his babysitter.

"Plate? What's wrong with his plate?"

"It's full, kid. Overflowing."

"What? But I never had a full plate until a while ago! Isn't more better? I love havin' a full plate! I wanna have a full plate all the time! I'd never complain if it was overflowin' either! Let it overflow!"

The old man chuckled warmly, yet there was sadness underneath. It almost sounded like his mom's laughter when she could get out of bed, but answered his questions anyway and sat through his stories.

"Ya know, that's a really good attitude to have, kid."

"Thanks! You too!"

His babysitter guffawed, his voice booming throughout the apartment. Naruto grinned. It was a fun sound.

Naruto carved at his desk, the noise of lunchtime in the classroom masking the scratchings of his little project. Holding his new chrome flask, he etched into its smooth brushed surface with the spike of his compass, following the pencil template he scribbled onto it during History.

Sasuke sat atop his desk beside him, taking bites out of his yakisoba bread, idly watching him work. "And this is more interesting than the computer lab?"

"Yeah? Why?"

Sasuke shrugged, taking another bite, his gaze sweeping across the half-occupied classroom. Naruto looked up from his work to glare at him, low-grade embarrassment running in the background of his mind as his suspicions made connections he'd rather not acknowledge.

Naruto still didn't know what to make of Hinata's comeback the other day. Was she emasculating him? Trying to make him feel weird? Flirting?

He shuddered at the thought of taking her words literally, unable to imagine her as anything else but a wimpy boy with an ugly haircut, her dull, dazed out features morphing into perverse sadism.

Naruto grit his teeth and stabbed his desk. "I'll kill her."

"Who?"

Naruto shut his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, clearing the imagery from his mind. "Nobody." Maybe next time she makes pass at him again, he should tell her he isn’t into sissy boys.

"Ah. Is that what we're going to start calling her?"

Naruto lifted his head up from his work. Sasuke knew who he was talking about after all, the stupid jerk. He faced Sasuke briefly with a smirk. "Might be more than she deserves." Naruto looked down at his compass' spike, two far away concepts in his mind slowly merging into a semblance of an idea. Spike. Lighter. Cauterization. Scarification. Badass tattoos? No ink?

Naruto shoved his flask inside his desk as he dug out his lighter from his back pocket. He flicked the wheel, a tender flame standing tall, ready to work, and he held the spike over the flame until it darkened to black and the acrid stink of burning plastic elicited a chorus of alarm and disgust amongst his classmates.

But they didn't dare speak up.

He couldn't do this here anyway, he needed a mirror. So he killed the flame and headed for the nearest bathroom, taking the bitter stink of burnt chemicals with him.

Naruto barged through, knocking aside two boys who were exiting. They took one look at the spike in his hand and scampered off in a hurry.

Heating the spike again over the bathroom sink for a good minute, he raised it up to his cheek and concentrated on his reflection. He saw something like this online the other day.

The heated needle stung, sending pain across the surface of the right half of his face. Yet it barely did the job. He cussed through clenched teeth and tried to heat the needle again, ignoring the worsening smell and forgetting that plastic softens with direct heat. His second attempt at deepening the stroke caused the needle to dislodge from the warped plastic, and the very tip stayed caught in the skin of his cheekbone. Swatting it out, the blackened metal clanged in the sink and rolled towards the drain, stopping dead in the groove between porcelain and stainless steel.

All he managed to do was poke a damn hole in his face.

Returning to the classroom after hassling the health teacher for a bandaid, Sasuke took one look at his failure, pointed at him and snorted.

Naruto grabbed him by the shirt of his collar, lifting a fist in warning when a minor commotion wafted from the opened window behind him. Laughter and taunting.

“Just Nobody getting hazed.” Sasuke said, his choice of phrasing confusing Naruto.

Naruto released him and wandered up to the window. Their high school was shaped like the manji symbol, but broken in half. The west wing had the pool, which was only opened during summer semester. Their half, the east wing, had the dirt field, with white chalk lines drawn in two ovals.

Naruto perched his elbow atop the sill. Someone was being forced to run the racetrack soaking wet, their dark hair nearly as black as their soggy gakuran uniform. “Hm?” He blinked, narrowed his eyes. Among the row of girls and guys heckling their chosen victim, one of them was stooped over awkwardly in very familiar way. As their runner began to circle back around, he produced a bottle seemingly from between his legs and held it out. Their runner grabbed it, flinched in disgust and dropped it, the suspicious liquid spilling over the dirt floor. One of the girls began chewing her out. Her – it was Hinata – and the girl closed the distance, hostility vibrating from the way she held herself, her cinched shoulders, her arms akimbo, and she grabbed Hinata by the hair and forced her to the ground, rubbing her face in the wet dirt. Three guys and two girls walked away and returned shortly with buckets full of water, shouting “Bath time!”, slinging a gallon each onto her shrunken form.

Naruto has a vague idea how she got here.

They were pissed she’d been ducking them by hiding away in the computer lab. They probably found her there, too. Dragged her out. Or maybe they managed to stop her from reaching the lab's safety. Either way, their impatience was building all this time.

Funny how normal high school was literally no different from the facility he'd been sent to. His dad was a fucking idiot.

"You're not going to college anyway." He'd said, spending that once hopeful tuition money on getting his son's behavior under control. To which Naruto remarked, "You're just sending me away cuz you have a girlfriend."

He still thinks his dad is seeing someone. Four months back home wasn't enough time to prove or disprove his beliefs, considering he had quickly returned to form and did everything he could to be anywhere but home or sober.

Still, his dad didn't have the right to enjoy his life while he was not allowed to enjoy his.

Naruto gripped the bottom handle of the window and closed it.

He lingered briefly as Hinata began to push herself to her feet. She resumed running the track, much to the boredom of her tormentors. They left the field together, looking over their shoulders every so often, mockery twisted on their features.

He's already experienced this and worse.

Life after high school better be more exciting than this, or he wasn't sure what he was going to do.

Sasuke pulled up beside him, looking out the window just as he was going back to work on his flask, this time with his pocket knife.

"Think she's going to home or to the infirmary?"

"Huh? What's it matter?"

Sasuke shrugged, turning around to lean against the glass, his arms crossed over his chest.

He never explained what he was thinking.

_______

Alone in bed, with the screams of crickets convincing him that they were all that existed in the world, as if everybody was dead, pulled into the shadows of night.

Not him.

He wiggled out of his boxers and gripped his semi-hard dick, his other hand gripping the base below his balls.

Eyes squeezed shut, his breath quickened as he conjured up one of the scenarios he watched online, his hand moving at a languid pace, getting himself primed to deliver a good pounding.

Let's see. A childhood friend who I haven't seen in a while. She offers to come over and cook me dinner. Yeah.

She's kinda shy when we're washing the dishes together. She's really pretty wearing her tucked behind her ears. She's busty as hell, it's straining through her sweater dress. I move behind her and embrace her, then my hands slide down to cup her tits.

She's moaning. Oh, she's moaning so good for me. She's a blushing mess. So cute. And she's not fighting me, even though she's embarrassed.

And braless.

She wanted this.

She hoped for this.

If not with me, then with someone else. We haven't seen each other in a while. I've just been too busy. She's really suspicious now, but it doesn't matter.

She doesn't get to be someone else.

He imagined bending her over the kitchen counter, his hard fingers digging into her supple hips as he pounded into her round ass, smooth skin rippling with every slam of his hips.

She's squeezing down on him. She doesn't want to let go of his dick. She doesn't want to be empty inside. She needs him to keep fucking her, to claim all of her.

She sounds like she's losing her mind when she comes on his cock, little shivers running up her arched spine.

He wants to know how warm and wet a woman really feels.

Online, they say it feels like you're finally home.

_______

He's getting bored of Sasuke's video games already. He can't risk going out of town to watch a movie. Golden Week is coming up, but he's about to lose his damn mind if he's got to relive this nothingness for the next however long.

Naruto flipped through the video game magazine inside the convenience store, trying to see what was going to be released soon.

His skin was clean and sticky, his hair hanging a bit flat around his face. He and Sasuke were fresh from the public bathhouse after a whole day of doing nothing, just aimlessly wandering around town until trouble found them or they had to make some: tagging the whale slide at the playground where they'd been day drinking, playing a game of HORSE by spitting from the rooftop of the video store (whoever got someone to look up earned them another letter), sneaking into the one adult store in town where Naruto tried to lift one of those pocket pussies (he wasn't successful. They got kicked out before he could).

Sasuke reached into the magazine rack, plucking one up before dropping it back into place. "This is from last year."

Naruto leaned over to see he was referring to a gravure magazine. "You fucking serious?" Naruto flipped his magazine shut and checked the date on the front. It was also a year old. His eyes scanned the front of the rack, a dark pit growing in his stomach. They couldn't be. But one by one, they were. He rifled through the rows, his movements growing faster, more agitated. "Year old, year old, year old–!" He gripped the wire rack and slammed it repeatedly into the wall.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" The cashier yelled as he moved around the counter to confront them.

"Update your shit!" He threw the magazine rack to the linoleum, slippery stacks sliding out at their feet, creating a sizable obstacle for the cashier to cross.

The ronin's face reddened and his neck corded. "Get out."

_______

The roar of the highway echoed beyond the sprawling parking lot of Costco. Nearly every outdoor table was seated with shoppers young and old, but mostly old.

Naruto dumped the remaining contents of his flask into his styrofoam soda cup and took a sip, his lidded gaze lazily taking in their surroundings.

Sasuke sat across from him, hunched over his Kaminarian beef pie, poking the flaky crust into the mud-like center with his spork.

"We should get high." Naruto said, even though a different image occupied his mind.

"'Kay?"

"But I smoked all my stuff." I still have those pills.

"Can't get you anything for three days, sorry."

Naruto craned his head so far back he was almost looking at the ground, raspy whine stretching beyond reason. He drew annoyed stares from the grannies and grampies seated nearby, clicking his tongue to his teeth in response.

"WecouldgotoZai-machi. There'redudesthat'lldefinitelysell." He said in a strained, breathless rush. He was that desperate. The bad side of town was predominantly Zainichi. The bars and pachinko were run by lower Kirian Syndicates. Hell, the strip club for sure. Various upper level apartments were known dope houses, the peddlers belonging to no group but themselves. That area was either dangerous or exciting as hell, depending on your frame of mind.

Most of the time, Naruto didn't see the difference.

Maybe right now he was just feeling lazy.

Naruto reeled himself back with a drawn out sigh. He laid his head in his arms atop the table, staring unseeingly into the middle distance.

A canvas bag with a felt boba-drinking rabbit crossed his view, the stuffed pink legs swaying in time with their owner.

He lifted his gaze and something shriveled inside of him.

“I think I wouldn’t hate it if you kept moaning like that for me.”

The flared tips of her cropped hair bounced lightly in the wind as she walked away, taking a seat at an empty table three down in the next row. Oversized sweaters tucked into long shorts as always. It's like she was proud to be so uncool.

Shit. How to get back at her? He can’t just go up to her with that ‘sissy boy’ comeback now. God, it's like her bullies have committed every possible option ten times over, leaving him with nothing. It's not teaching her a lesson if it's what she's already used to!

Plus, he has no reason to be like them.

He has his own reasons to hate her.

Naruto shifted from side to side, trying to get a good view of what she was up to. Then he saw she was nomming on a huge cup of red bean soft serve. Well, that won't do. No, no! Taking her food is childs stuff!

Gritting his teeth and nails digging into his scalp, Naruto was seething as he shot down every possible tactic his brain could come up with.

"Dammit. Let's just go."

Sasuke eyed him, his beef pie barely halfway gone.

"Already?"

Naruto pounded with an impatient rhythm. "Yeah, motherfucker, let's gooo."

If anything were to come out of this, it's that she'll never suspect a thing.

Because he took too damn long to retaliate.

_______

It's that time again and Naruto is standing in the quiet of the train station, looking inside their shared coin locker, the key creaking beneath his grip.

It's empty.

It doesn't make any sense.

There’s a phone booth situated between his home in the foothills and the edge of town. Nothing but dirt and grass all around, just like those rustic rests stops along a dirt path where it was just a vending machine an a stone bench and nothing else for miles.

Naruto shifted his weight from foot to foot, the instinct to fight heating his bloodstream. The call stopped trilling and a gravelly voice slurred on the other line. “Hello?” Of course, he was drunk. Didn’t matter that it was the buttcrack of dawn, he either had a hangover and was treating it or he was getting a head start for the day.

“What gives? It’s empty.”

“Ah, sorry about that, kid. You know I never forget,”

“Then what do you call this time?!”

“I forgot. Wait, wait, I’m just kidding. Calm down, I can hear you huffing and puffing already. It’s alright, you’re gonna be alright.”

“You’re still not answering me! You gonna send it or what?!”

Jiraiya fell silent on the other end. “Hey, I ever tell you about my tours in Ame? I was part of Reconstruction, right? Tried to help them… You know, escape the cycle. But we couldn’t end the corruption as planned. Too many right-wing nationalists posing as syndicates and syndicates posing as legitimate political groups. They had their grip on the people and the people trusted their own over the military that destroyed them in the first place. But then what did they want when they still couldn’t fix their own problems? Reparations.”

Naruto’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the hard plastic, his eyes narrowing in distrust. “What’re you getting at?”

“Well you see, eventually they got their reparations. They were so fixated on this money solving what they failed to solve themselves that they thought of nothing else in the mean time. They gave up. That’s called Learned Helplessness, by the way. Now, what I’m getting at is, do you see any benefit in this? Doesn’t it seem like the fixation on money is only keeping the wound open?”

“So, you’re saying you're breaking your promise because it’s what’s good for me?”

“I’ll get the money in your hands, kid,” Jiraiya sighed at length. “It’s just been on my mind, alright?”

“Then why don’t you just ask me if I still think about it?”

Jiraiya was silent.

Naruto interjected. “You’re tryin’ to say I’m harming myself over what’s owed to me. But you’re not wondering if I would’ve been happier if your guilty conscience never won out. You’re wondering if I can finally stop shaking you down. Well, fuck you, you rotting shit!” The phone gave a sickening crack as he bludgeoned the steel housing of the pay phone, his right arm taut and corded with veins. "NOT HELPLESS!!" He screamed into the receiver for good measure before bashing it onto the hook. It slumped off, dangling by its segmented metal cord like a man hanging by a noose. The beep-beep-beep tone signaled that he had, somehow, managed to hang up.

Shameless shitbag.

_______

The edge of his pocket knife scraped into the brushed metal with merciless impricision, hair-thin shavings falling away into clumps on the surface. His right leg bounced like it would sprint off without him, the heel of his indor shoe squeaking nonstop against the tile. His head was loud like his lungs had moved into his skull, while his arms throbbed, pulsing heavily as though his heart was sliding through his arteries.

Naruto swiped away at the metal shavings with his thumb, smearing a snail trail of red from his nicked fingertip.

He’s been up for, maybe sixteen hours. Wide awake, no hunger, no thirst, only pure energy. Pure being. It’s amazing. He hasn’t felt tired or bored in sixteen hours. This is his favorite feeling. Like he was a little kid again, zooming between one shiny thing after another. He’s going to be done with this soon, his flask. Or maybe not. He keeps thinking up new ways to improve the design. The Uzushian is illegible because his handwriting sucks and his hands aren’t that steady, but it’s fine. It’s fine.

He’s sure Kakashi could tell he was on something. All those concerned glances in his direction during the car ride here. No way of knowing if he was going to rat on him or not to his dad. His dad will try to cover up his infraction. He’ll ask him where he got the stuff and Naruto will tell him the truth. Not because he wants Obito to face the consequences that always elude him, but because Naruto knows it won’t matter anyways. Because his dad won’t believe him, because he doesn’t want to. Always taking everyone else’s side but his. Always. Always. Whatever’s easiest for him. Always. Always. Such a bystander, that guy, that piece of shit of a father.

Their homeroom teacher’s voice filtered through the wordless noise in his head.

“... plan for your first excursion. Today, we'll start to gather ideas, then next week we'll put it up for a vote. From there, I want you all to work on the budget."

He nicked his thumb again, somehow moving the wrong hand the wrong way when he was thinking of moving his pocket knife the opposite way of that. Didn't hurt though. Didn't feel like anything.

"Sakura Sunflower Garden." Out of everyone else's voice, hers whistled straight to his brain, that high, airy sound somehow the spark that ignited the gasoline running through his bloodstream.

"God, shut up!" He slammed his fist down on his desk, silencing the room, drawing their reluctant eyes. "Your voice is so annoying!"

Chuckles and titters rose from nothing to a low, cautious volume, as their shock gave way to shared derision towards the class outcast. (Not him. He had Sasuke.)

Her pale, owlish eyes stared at him as if betrayed, before her features pinched in mirrored scorn. She turned away from him, head lowered, posture hunched, wilting.

"Has anyone picked Konoha?! Anyone?!"

His classmate seated directly in front of him, some bitch with a braided ponytail, snickered softly. "Saku-Sun Garden is in Konoha… you fetal-alcoholled retard."

Chair legs screeched in a violent chorus. Students fled their seats.

Her screams pierced through the thin walls as he dragged her by her hair across his desk, her legs kicking at the air, her body twisting and her hands gripping her hair for dear life.

People were yelling at him. There were hands bigger than his pulling at him, barking orders. Angry. Panicked. Berating him.

They don’t get it. She can't say that about his mom.

His mom took care of him.

_______

Standing in front of his dad’s house, somehow Naruto felt like an animal lined up for slaughter. His dad’s flinty glare was unbearably bright, but Naruto couldn’t tell they were bright from tears or rage. Either way, his dad was finally seeing him for the first time in a long time. He’s never looked more awake than now, more alert. Like he’s finally worth paying attention to.

His hand came down across his face like a brick. It’ll hurt more later when the mystery drug finally wore off, though Naruto was pretty sure it was a some form of meth. It felt weird, having his face forced aside with no sensation, only a semblance of agony deepening beneath the foggy layers of his high. It felt weird to taste blood on his lip, but not the sting of it being split.

This invincibility made him grin, and he swayed like there was a song in his head, inciting his dad to hit him again.

“When are you going to start to care?!”

“Hm?” Naruto blinked at his father, still smiling.

He watched all the color and emotion drain from his dad’s face, his face twisting into an awful expression. He was horrified.

Finally. But what was he going to do about it? Send him away again? Surrender him to the justice system?

Yeah, he hurt that girl. She had it coming for a while, dangling that turd braid in front of his face day after day. Couldn’t tame the split ends no matter how hard she tried, and he swore his palms were still sticky from the oil she used to tame her already greasy head. The thought had him rubbing his palms against the front of his pants. Her nasty grease just wouldn’t come off.

His dad closed his eyes, face still pinched but much smoother than earlier. Back to shoving his son out of his mind then, huh?

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” Minato made a move to brush past him, heading for the house, his house. “You already know what I need you to do, so just do it.”

The door shut tight behind Naruto.

It was just him and the bugs now.

#rated e #naruhina fanfiction #eventual naruhinasasu #angst #idle hands

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eloquentgifs · 2 years ago

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I've been thinking about this a lot these past few days and now reading this post my mind just clicked and I understood what's bugging me.

I keep seeing polls and other posts where people asume Ed is gonna be mad and violent when he sees Stede again, but imo he never seemed to be really angry with him. I feel he was disappointed, and sad and miserable, and definitely superHURT, but then he tried to heal himself in a healthy way, and he only went full Kraken mode because of Izzy's intervention. Do we really know what he's thinking about Stede? Like, does he even blame him for his pain, or is he blaming himself for believing he could get nice things? Have he even considered that maybe Stede didn't show up because he's dead?

I know this has been discussed endlessly and I'm not saying anything new, but I just cant really imagine Ed being all angsty in the reunion, unless is performative (like the Kraken thing seems to be in general). He also doesnt seem to be the kind of person who holds grudges against others. If he was, Izzy would be long gone. He insults Ed, dissobeys him, tries to kill Stede against Ed's will, then betrays him and gets them captured by the brits, and all the retaliation he receives is a punch in the face (you could count the toe, but that was also performative and Izzy was kinda happy about it?). Everything's back to "normal" after that.

The only moment where I see Ed might be actually mad at Stede is when he abandons the crew and calls them "Bonnet's playthings", since he's probably recalling when he heard Stede saying "we're just playing pirates" in his sleep, and asuming all their time together in the Revenge was just a game for him and he left when it wasnt funny anymore (you know, rich people are fickle blablabla).

Of course, maybe anger was not his first reaction but he got angry as the time passed by and he developed new readings on the situation (I think we all have been there at some point of our lifes 😂) and getting into the new kraken persona gave him a more hostile mindset. But I still believe that, as soon as he sees Stede and he's all apologetic and talking of love and stuff, the performance of violence will disappear and Ed will either give him the silent treatment and be cold and distant for a while (after all, they'll still need to rebuild trust) or we'll get Soft Ed again ✨💜 I think the key will be how long it takes them to reunite and if Ed hears about Stede's "dead" or not.

The other side of this that I don't see so discussed is, what is Stede going to do? Because last time we heard his thoughts he was optimistic and in love and bound to be happy with Ed, but finding out what happened in his absence must have an effect we don't know yet. What if he's angry with Ed? What if he's not, but the crew is, and they put preassure on him to get vengeance or something? What if it's Stede the one who has to be performatively violent (really unlikely), or he has to chose between his love for Ed and his responsability as a captain?

Well, as I said nothing of this is new. I just wanted to explain to myself why I don't see that angsty reunion happening, at least not in Ed's side. It became a ramble post. If s2 doesn't come up soon I don't know what might happen with my brain.

PS: I'd personally love someone else (ideally, Jim) punches Stede in the face on Ed's behalf, just because I need Stede getting punched in the face so I can fully forgive him.

#ofmd #Our Flag Means Death #Ramble #I really need those two idiots to love each other and be happy forever

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jazzy---j · 2 years ago

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Daughter of Poseidon: The Lightning Thief

“even the gods have to bow to fate”

Chapter Summary: A field trip suddenly becomes dangerous and traumatic, unveiling an unsettling reality for Cassie Jackson. Leaving her and her brother scrabbling for answers.

Masterlist >>> Read on ao3 (1/23)

We Accidentally Vaporize Our Pre-Algebra Teacher

This is not really how I pictured my life going. I don't know what exactly I pictured but the life of a half-blood was not it. But I am who I am for a reason.

However despite how amazing my demigod, hero life sounds, if YOU are reading this because you think you might be one of us, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life. It almost is not worth it.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways. Which can honestly be such a drag.

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think this is fiction, great. Congratulations. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that this is just a fun little bit of urban fantasy escapism.

But if you recognize yourself in these pages, if you feel something stirring inside-stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you. Don't ignore it. Try and get in touch with me, with any of us and we will find you. We never leave a demigod behind.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Cassandra Jackson. But everyone just calls me Cassie. It’s faster, easier and if you call me Cassandra... well you will literally be sleeping with the fishes.

I'm eleven years old. Until a few months ago, I was in the sixth grade with my older brother Percy. We went to Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.

Are we troubled kids? Well duh. Wouldn't be much fun if we weren't.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan- twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know, it sounds like a chaotic disaster. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so it may not be so bad.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put Percy to sleep.

I hoped the trip would be okay for us. At least, I hoped that for once Percy and I wouldn't get in trouble. Boy, was I wrong.

See, bad things happen to us on field trips. Like at our fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, Percy had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. He wasn't aiming for the school bus on purpose. And I still swear I didn't mean to light the wick. At the time I didn't know the thing still even worked. Percy and I were just immersing ourselves in the history of Saratoga. But of course, we got expelled anyway.

And before that, at our fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, Percy sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk, and our class took an unplanned swim.

At our third-grade school, I let out all the animals at the petting zoo. They just looked so sad, and I know this is crazy but I heard the horses just begging me to let them out. So I did, and a teacher may or may not have taken a trip to the ER.

And the time before that... Well, you get the idea.

But this time Percy and I talked it over and we decided that we had to get it together. We were determined to be good. We were gonna keep each other in check, no mess ups, no screw ups.

All the way into the city, we put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, (also my roommate, lucky me) hitting Percy's best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria. He also had the weirdest fashion sense with a rasta cap and baggy jeans. But he was one of the greatest friends Percy has ever had, besides me of course, and I was thankful for that.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew we couldn't do anything back to her because Percy and I were already on probation. The headmaster had threatened us with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

Which is such a shame because I had so many plans.

"I'm going to kill her," Percy mumbled.

I scoffed, picking the foam out of the hole of my seat, "Get in line bro."

Grover tried to calm him down. "It's okay. I like peanut butter."

He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it." Percy started to get up, but Grover and I pulled him back into the seat.

"You're already on probation," Grover reminded him.

"And you know who'll get blamed if anything happens," I added.

I grabbed his hand, "Come on Percy we talked about this."

We locked eyes, and I took a second to analyze my brother's face. Even though we weren't actually twins we still looked really similar. Both of us had wild windswept jet black hair and vibrant sea-green eyes.

“Remember what mom said, ‘“Hold fast, Perseus.””

He sighed and closed his eyes, nodding in agreement.

Looking back on it, I wish I'd let Percy deck Nancy Bobofit right then and there. Heck, I wished I'd done it. An in-school suspension would've been nothing compared to the mess I was about to get myself into.

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years. Probably even longer.

He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time Percy or I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give us the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

Which I, of course, had nothing to do with.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured Percy and I were devil spawns. She's not entirely wrong but, that wasn't the point.

She would point her crooked finger at us and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew we were going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, she'd made Percy erase answers out of old math workbooks and I had to scrap gum off the bottom of all the desks in her classroom. We were both up until pass midnight. One day Percy angrily told Grover he didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at us, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

So not ominous at all. Everything's all fine and dandy.

Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele. I turned around to say something but Percy beat me to it exclaiming, "Will you shut up?"

It totally came out louder than he meant it to.

My big brother ladies and gentlemen.

The whole group laughed. I turned and gave them a death stare and they quickly shut up. That's right no one was gonna make fun of my brother except me. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.

"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"

I dared a glance at Percy and his face was totally red. He said, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I looked at the carving and felt a flush of relief because we just studied this in class. Percy should remember this. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?" Percy exclaimed.

"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because..."

"Well..." Percy started trying to remember. "Kronos was the king god, and-"

"God?" Mr. Brunner asked.

"Titan," I coughed into my hand.

"Titan," he corrected himself as grabbed my hand to give a gentle squeeze in thanks.

"And... he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"

"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me, I turned and made a face at her. Percy gripped my hand tighter in warning. I turned back around and made a face at him too. He ignored me.

"-and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," He continued, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Miss Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had horse ears.

I thought about his question, shrugged, and gave the safe non-committal answer, "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. and Miss. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like complete morons.

Grover, Percy, and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. and Miss. Jackson."

Damn... almost made it.

Percy told Grover to keep going. Then I turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?"

Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go, intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.

"You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner told us. "About the Titans?" Percy asked.

"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy and Cassie Jackson."

I was kinda annoyed with that statement. He pushed us so hard.

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!'" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected Percy and I to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that we both have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder, and Percy and I had never made above a C- in our lives. And no he didn't expect us to be as good; he expected us to be better.

No pressure.

Percy mumbled something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He told us to go outside and eat lunch.

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snowstorms, flooding, and wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in. That would actually be the least of my concerns.

Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds didn't see a thing. Morons.

Grover, Percy, and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school-the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," Percy said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean- I'm not a genius."

"You most certainly are not," I said smirking as I unwrapped my sandwich.

“Shut up, Cassie,” Percy said jokingly as he flicked my shoulder.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give us some deep philosophical crap like they say in the movies, he said, "Can I have your apple?"

Percy shrugged and handed it to him. I offered him my granola, but he declined, and I began to feed it to the pigeons.

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so badly to jump in a taxi and head home with Percy. She'd hug us and be glad to see us, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send us right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was our sixth school in six years and we were probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

I also wished that I could go visit the dance studio around the corner. I had been dancing since I was 6, my mom enrolled me to try and run off all my nervous energy and help me focus. I fell in love and have been dancing ever since. Unfortunately, I haven't been in a year because of school. I was extremely out of practice and just itching to start again.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table. Like in those Italian romance movies that I watched from the window of Ms. Noris's fourth-story apartment across the street.

I was about to drink my juice box (yeah a juice box, sue me) when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of us with her ugly friends-I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists-and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." Sometimes, it actually worked for me. Percy on the other hand... not so much.

The next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see-" "-the water-"

"-like it grabbed her-"

There was no way what I just saw was real. No way. All I knew for sure was that my big brother was in trouble again.

I looked over at Percy like, "Dude, what did you do?"

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on us. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes as if she just proved an argument. "Now, honey-"

"I know," Percy grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."

That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said, "Cassandra too!" she said almost triumphantly.

Oh great! I'm in trouble by association.

Percy froze and stared at her in disbelief, "She didn't even do anything!" he yelled.

"I'll be the judge of that Mr. Jackson!" she sneered.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for us. Besides the fact that it was totally a bad idea, Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled. "I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But-"

"You-will-stay-here."

Grover looked at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," Percy told him.

"Thanks for trying," I added.

"Honeys," Mrs. Dodds barked at us. "Now." Nancy Bobofit smirked.

Percy gave her his deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare as he grabbed my hand.

Damn, I did not want to be on the other end of that.

Then I turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

I glanced at Percy and he looked just as puzzled as I felt.

How... how did she get there so fast?

We have moments like that a lot when our brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told us this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure, this time. My grip on Percy's hand only tightened.

We continued after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, Percy turned and glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between us and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.

I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, something clearly isn't right.

In any normal situation, she would make us buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop. But that clearly wasn’t the plan.

We followed her deeper into the museum. When we finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery was empty.

Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said.

Percy said, "Yes, ma'am."

I decided to stay quiet, with my mouth we'd end up in even more trouble than we already were.

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?" The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt us. I'm pretty sure that is highly illegal.

Percy said, "We-we'll try harder, ma'am." Thunder shook the building. If we were in a movie that probably means something very bad is about to happen.

"We are not fools, Percy and Cassie Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

"Percy-, " I said nervously as I gripped him.

Ok, now I'm really confused.

I didn't know what she was talking about.

All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy Percy had been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I'm the one who super glued the science teacher to his desk chair and let loose all the frogs in the classroom.

What can I say I enjoy chaos.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, I don't..." I trailed off.

"Your time is up," she hissed.

Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Then things got even weirder.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy, Cassie!" he shouted, tossing a pen and small glinting object in the air. It flew so fast I could barely make it out. Mrs. Dodds lunged at us.

With a yelp, Percy and I dodged in opposite directions. I felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched what I could now see was some sort of metal bracelet cuff out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a bracelet anymore. It was a spear!

Ok...that's new. Bracelet turning into medieval murder weapon.

To my right Percy was holding a sword, the same sword Mr. Brunner used on tournament days.

Mrs. Dodds spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the spear.

She snarled, "Die, honey!"

And she flew straight at me.

Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing I could do: I slashed with the spear.

The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body, clashing and clanging with Percy's blade as he swung through with the sword.

Mrs. Dodds was a sandcastle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.

We were alone.

The spear went limp like a wet noodle in my hands and seemed to shrink. It began to wrap around my arm and once it was done it harden again into a bracelet cuff that looked like a snake coiled around my arm. I tugged on it, trying to get it off but it wouldn't budge. I finally decided to just pull my jacket sleeve over it and deal with it later.

So.... that happened.

Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but us.

I ran to Percy, and he gripped me tightly in a hug. He was shaking just as badly as I was.

"Percy, what was that?" I exclaimed.

"I don't know," he said, eyes still searching the exhibit as if Mrs. Dodd's would show up again.

My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

It was much more believable than the fever dream we just witnessed.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Percy said as he grabbed my hand and we went back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

Percy stopped walking, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I asked Nancy what she was talking about. She just rolled her eyes and turned away.

Percy asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

He said, "Who?"

But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at us, so I thought he was messing around.

"Not funny, dude," I told him. "This is serious."

Thunder boomed overhead.

I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book as if he'd never moved.

"Stay here Cassie, I'm gonna figure out what's going on," Percy said.

He went over to Mr. Brunner.

I moved close enough to hear what they were saying but not too close in case there were any more surprises from Mr. Brunner the only other teacher on the trip. My ears strained to listen.

Mr. Brunner looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

Percy handed Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized Percy still had that. "Sir," Percy said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stared at Percy blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

Yep, something is definitely going on.

chapter 2 >>>

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naoa-ao3 · 1 year ago

Text

Making Up As We Go

They've had a fight but it's nothing new.

Remy sits outside and smokes, the mansion is still around him and he feels bad about the fight now.

It was a stupid thing, he'd made a joke and she'd gotten angry and he'd responded by being petulant and they'd both been stubborn and now they're on different ends of the house. Different ends of the manor.

He sits and pouts on the roof, avoiding the others who always have opinions, even when it has nothing to do with them.

he think's that's the problem with too many people living together in one house. They can't avoid each other.

The moon shines over head and he sighs to himself.

They'll have to make up and just for once he grows tired of it. Tired of the dance and the fighting.

It's half his fault, this fight.

Two stubborn people with too many feelings. Maybe they're both idiots in some way. This happens too often and he's never seen Scott and Jean go at it like this. They're like the opposite of the golden couple. Idiots.

After all, how the hell are you supposed to get close to a woman you can't even touch?

He sighs to himself and looks down at his cigarette. It's almost out. Great. Another thing he'll have to deal with. Lighting another or calling it quits.

He wishes they didn't fight so much. Wishes they could be like Scott and Jean and kiss and make love and be good and perfect. . .

People are always warning him not to break her heart but if they only knew how much his own hurt at times like this then he thinks maybe they might not have been so quick to open their mouths. Still, he understands why they say it and he doesn't want to hurt her. Not ever.

He hates fighting with her. Rogue is his other half, he's known that since the day he met her. It's impossible to deny and yet. . .

He knows he wouldn't have fallen in love with a woman any less passionate. There was probably never a chance of them not fighting. He loves fighting with her almost as much as flirting some times because he loves anything he does with her.

It's stupid. It's why they're in this situation in the first place.

No one is mad, they're both just stubborn and probably too proud for their own good.

He lights another cigarette, feeling entitled to it while he feels sorry for himself and puffs away, watching the smoke drift off and disappear into the darkness above him.

These are the pitfalls of trying to manage a relationship. Of trying to be with someone. Sometimes there are bad moments but it's nothing a little humility won't fix, nothing they can't kiss and make up.

Well. . . kissing might be the wrong word but he's decided he's going to be with someone he can't touch and he's made up his mind on that. He'll find a way and as he thinks about it he feels better, he feels relieved to have the chance.

They always seem to make up, the two of them.

They both know their faults and that helps. Maybe it'll help them to last longer than Scott and Jean but he doubts it. Those two are perfect.

He finishes his second cigarette and get's up, thinking it's time.

It's time to make up and it's better he makes the first move, she might be just a little more stubborn than even he is.

He heads in and looks for Rogue, finding her in her room getting ready for bed.

He can see in her eyes she wants to make up but he plays the part, dancing the dance and leans in the doorway, watching her.

"What do you want, Cajun?" She asks but there's no bite to her voice, she sounds almost sad.

"Nothing." He says. "Jus' thought it was stupid we had a fight."

She shrugs and sits on the bed, looking at him now. "Yeah, pretty stupid." She says, tucking her hair back.

He looks at her, they're proud people. It's a problem in some cases but they know how to speak each other's language. They know how to make up.

"You gonna stay mad, Chere?" He asks.

She shakes her head, making a face and sniffing as though she's turned off by the idea. "I don't think so." She say's.

"Good, cause I'm already not."

Green eyes find him and he feels better.

She sighs and he wishes he could grab her up, hold her properly and kiss her.

Instead he comes and puts a hand on her thigh. She's got long pajamas on. It gives him the illusion of what he wants.

"I don' like fighting with you, Chere." He say's, serious as the grave. "Eats me up."

"It was only a little fight, Remy." She say's, voice softer than he'd expected.

He shrugs and he wants to put his head down on her knees, wants to show her how much he doesn't want to fight. He wonders if she'd let him.

"I don't like fighting with you either." She say's, voice still soft and warm.

He nods and she takes his hand in her still gloved ones.

She never get's a moment to be careless, it's one of the greatest cruelties of their world.

"Den let's not fight any more tonight." He say's.

She yawns and holds his hand a moment. "I can do that."

God he wants to kiss her, he could almost be angry about it except that it won't change anything.

They don't have an ordinary relationship, with them there's work and it's so frustrating. It's just so damn frustrating but he loves her and he loves everything about her from her temper to the danger that comes with loving her.

"Wish I could kiss you, chere." He whispers, squeezing her hand.

"Me too, Remy." She says, squeezing back. "Me too." She sounds small when she say's it. Genuine.

They lean against each other, it's safe. It's almost like what other couples get and through the piteous denial of the flesh, he knows he's never loved another woman like this.

Knows he probably never will again.

They may not be perfect but they do love each other and it's moments like this, moments when they come back to each other that refuse to let him forget it. It's in these moments that he might just love her the most.

Making up is almost like making out for them. An endless dance that never quite finishes.

#x-men #fanfiction #romy #rogue x gambit #ao3 #gambit #remy lebeau #fanfic #rogue #remy leabeau #arguments #fights #making up #one shot #angst #romance #drama #fluff

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