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valictini · 9 months ago

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Where to even begin

(OP you said it was okay to pour use this as an excuse to pour our heart out, so I'm taking you up on that, wall of text ahead lmao)

She had to live through death once, and even if it was reverted later, she never forgot it. For the longest time she was extremely paranoid and basically assumed that she could be killed any second. (She was proved right again and again, which didnt help) She had like 3 safehouses, further and further away from spawn. She has insomnia, too, because of nightmares.

Pomme is a sweet but serious little egg, and she cares so much about everyone.

One defining feature of her would be the fact that she had to grow up too fast, and that she knows it, and that she hates it. The second she was adopted, everyone and everything around her more or less made her understand that she was in danger, so she grew up anxious.

More than her own death, she worries a lot about losing her siblings and resolved to train up in order to protect them.

She hates mines because it's just making it more dangerous for the eggs for no reason... and it reminds her of the fake Willbur return party and the explosion that ensued. She wasn't teleported away. She was in the middle of the explosion. She thankfully didn't die but she also lived through that yknow

She's a writer! I think it was Aypierre who suggested she wrote what she did every day so all her parents could easily catch up if they didn't connect in a while. So yeah, she writes. A LOT. A fact that her french parents like to tease about, but they also always make sure to read everything.

After learning about the presidential dinner fiasco, and how code monsters took chayanne and tallulah's appearance, she came up with a secret code with her parents to show that she wasn't a code monster. (Giving them her favorite flower, the cornflower)

Nowadays, she seems way less outwardly stressed, but in the way that she got used to it, sort of, but also because she's stronger. Now, when she knows danger is near, she simply gets angry, gears up and prepares herself to get rid of it. She's a bit like Etoiles for this.

Now onto the interactions! Tbh I'm not 100% sure if all the interactions related to the death family are 100% accurate, but at least that's what I percieved:

Philza: she trusts him a lot, because he's Etoiles' friend and a good dad and a good warrior. A trust worthy adult overall. She often turns to him with a sarcastic remark whenever Etoiles throws a Gamer Tantrum that ends up with him rage quitting and her being left alone, and Phil consistently reassures her that Etoiles cares about her. Overall i think she meshes well with Phil because she's a mature kid, similar to his own, and he's a responsible adult, someone she can trust 100%.

Tallulah: she's Pomme's beloved sister! They are both very sensible to the other's emotions and are always supportive. They had a big moment when Tallulah was hurt about Pomme and Dapper joking about being abandonned, and in response Pomme immediately apologized with a very heartfelt letter that assured Tallulah that she was loved and that Pomme would always support her. I don't know how they interact usually, but I know they love and trust eachother very much.

Chayanne: honestly idk much about their relationship, but they do seem to have taken the role of protector of the eggs. The video showing the eggs leaving comes to mind, with Chayanne leading in the front while Pomme walked at the back of the group, scythe in hand, ready to defend the others.

Etoiles: Etoiles wasn't too close to Pomme at first but still made it his mission to make her Unkillable by dumping all of his best gear and items on her. Time did its thing, and now he actively enjoys having her around and it's reciprocated. Etoiles is like a pillar to Pomme. He trains her, he explores dungeons with her, he's her number 1 fan and if anything dares to hurt her, hes there to make it disappear asap. Etoiles promised Pomme that as long as he was alive, he'd always protect her and bring her home, wherever she was... and she fullheartedly believes him. Etoiles is also Etoiles, and he still loves to tease her. Pomme has also become unimpressed by his Gamer Tantrums.

And because I couldn't stop myself, here are her interactions with her other parents:

Baghera: she was the first to really show immediate interest in Pomme and quickly built a bond together. She's always taking into account her daughter's emotions. They are like besties and spent a lot of time building together. Unfortunately, with baghz' lore coma + the egg kidnapping + purgatory, Pomme hasn't spent as much time with her as with other parents, but they still love each other very much. Baghera is the only parent who willingly stayed with the eggs at the end of Purgatory, after all.

Bad: they first bonded via Bad and Bagh's friendship, and little by little, by spending late nights with Bad and Dapper, they became closer and eventually saw each other as father and daughter. Pomme admin's sleep schedule was fucked up for a while, and her french parents teased her for only ever connecting when Bad was there (very late in France, making it hard for them to spend more than a couple hours with her) But yeah, they're very close! With Baghera, Bad is probably the most sensitive to her emotions and always does his best to be there for her. Pomme simply loves to tag along and help with whatever Bad's doing, along with Dapper. They're all in cahoots.

Aypierre: Pomme loves him, but also probably facepalms a lot more in his presence than anyone else's. She had to witness his and Maxo's romance live, and helped to build the furry club, and overall is always a bit suspicious whenever Aypierre wants to show her a 'new project' (But quickly forgets it the moment Aypierre shows her his impressive builds) They do have fun hanging out and building together. Despite not being good at pvp, he always does his best to support her in any way he can, and doesnt hesitate to spoil her if she ever needs something. He would probably burn the world down before hurting her.

Kameto: there was a moment where Pomme angsted a lot about Kameto and why he wasn't there. She started thinking that maybe, he wasn't there because of her, because she's a bother. Eventually, she stopped talking about it, but its still a sore subject to her. I think if he showed up again, the angst would probably resurface even harder, but for now, she's focused on protecting her siblings and trying her best to be happy.

Antoine: like Etoiles, he wasn't that close to her at the beginning, but still took his responsibility as a father very seriously, wherever he could help (he was the one who went to manually teleport Pomme to her room when NINHO's system failed during an attack). He's blunt with her, and always talked to her like to an adult, honestly. They had a tough conversation after her first death, him trying to explain to her that life without death doesn't really have meaning, but then again. She was like 1 week old lmao. He (almost) never lies to her, and he trusts her to never lie to him. Still no fighting skills though, so in terms of safety and protection, it'd be more accurate to say that Antoine is Pomme's egg.

Calling all French cc mains or French QSMP fans!!

Pomme is going to appear in my fic I'm writing! I know, similarly to Chayanne, she's passionate about being strong and protecting her siblings, and like Tallulah she enjoys flowers, but not much else!!

This post is your platform for gushing about your girl!! Please reblog and infodump to your heart's content about Pomme as a character! I'd love to include more depth to her than her protectiveness!

If it helps, here's some additional context for her appearance in the fic:

She'll be with Etoiles

Her, Etoiles, Phil, Chayanne & Tallulah will be doing a dungeon together

She might appear more than this later on but I currently don't have the chapter(s) planned if she does!

So if there's any specific ways she interacts with those 4 characters, let me know! Either way, go crazy writing analyses for her here! I am your vessel for Pomme appreciation. :D

#qsmp #qsmp pomme

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shokami · 4 years ago

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wc ; 1k in total

featuring ; kuroo, kenma, akaashi, and bokuto

synopsis ; being in a poly relationship with four people was never an easy task, but things get worse when the squish of peace goes missing. poly! headcanons and drabble.

you started dating kuroo first, that’s how this all ended up happening.

next thing you knew, you ended up developing feelings for kenma, which you really thought was going to be an awkward conversation. turns out they were actually pretty ecstatic to be in a poly relationship with you.

as for how bokuto and akaashi ended up being a part of your relationship? well, you like to refer to that as a happy accident.

kuroo was very attached to a select few people, and it happened to be the four of you— so it was no surprise that you all hung out grouped together all of the time.

before you knew it, you were all basically acting like you were dating. akaashi would show up with lunch, or groceries, or with a moody bokuto at 2 A.M because ‘kuroo and kenma didn’t share you’.

you even got into the habit of showing up to every single one of MSBY’s games, and cheered him on from the front row.

it even got to the point where you were showing up at akaashi’s office to make sure he had lunch, or a late dinner.

don’t get it twisted though, you still paid special attention to kuroo and kenma too.

speaking of them, you indirectly hinted at the fact that you felt like you were all in a giant relationship together… to which kuroo awkwardly laughed and made a joke about it.

little did you know he had been thinking the same thing, and discussed it with kenma whether or not they should ask.

they never got the chance to because a few days later, bokuto and akaashi were leaving when akaashi kissed you, and kuroo accidentally dropped an ‘i love you’ to bokuto. this basically initiated the spider-man meme.

you had all gotten so comfortable being that close with one another, that things just formed on their own without anyone realizing at first.

that night led to a long conversation on whether or not the five of you could have a sensible relationship together.

spoiler warning: you did, and you guys were so disgustingly cute together.

it was a perfect balance. kuroo and bokuto were the loud duo, and you joked about how they gave the rest of you ‘scary dog privileges’.

then there was kenma and akaashi, who were the more silent and comforting, yet somehow still chaotic in their own ways—

you on the other hand, managed to be the mix that sat in the inbetween. your energy changed depending who you were around, and if it was all of them… it took your entire mental capacity to control them.

a lot of boundaries were in place, and everyone got days to be alone and take a break, and even days with specific partners for days out. it was the best way for no one to become overwhelmed, and it kept arguments and fights to a bare minimum.

your relationship is so healthy, and loving that it makes everyone else curious on how it works

you never have an answer, but it’s okay because not everyone needs to know

let it be known that in your house there is a singular reversible octopus squishy.

you and kenma are definitely the ones who use it the most, and bokuto is a close second.

akaashi used it once when he was tired and grumpy, and that gained him a lot of space from everyone and extra cuddles from you.

kuroo however, has never used it but he is in charge of keeping track of where it is and who has it. everyone calls him the mood watcher, he’s like your personal mood ring.

“TETSUROU,” you and bokuto ran into the living room out of breath, a look of terror on your faces. “Where is Mr. Octopus squishy?!”

Kuroo looked up from his spot on the couch, Akaashi sat beside him looking unbothered and focused as he wrote, “Yn, you don’t have it? I thought you were the last one with it.”

“YOU LOST MR. OCTOPUS?!” Bokuto whisper yelled, finally causing Akaashi to look up at the two of you.

“Kenma is setting up for a stream, and he is in a big bad mood— we need the octopus ASAP.” you calmly explained, pushing Bokuto in the opposite direction to look around the house.

The octopus squishy was seen as a sacred item in your house, and was always needed to express moods and the vibe of the room. You had vividly remembered giving it back to Kuroo last week, and you had no idea where he could’ve misplaced it. The damned octopus was vital for Kenma’s moods, and if you couldn’t find it… then you’d never know when the area was safe.

A bit dramatic, but it was a process that worked.

Both Kuroo and Akaashi began to look for the octopus with you two, and you knew everyone would get lectured for losing the squish of peace.

After about twenty minutes of looking, Kuroo found him tucked away in one of the many blankets around the house, “Okay, now who’s going to get it to him?”

You all fell silent, glancing at each other as the task presented itself. Kenma was the worst one out of everyone when it came to his bad moods, and none of you wanted to face his wrath.

“Kou I think you’re up—“

“HUH?? TETSUROU YOU LOST IT, YOU DO IT.”

“YEAH BUT YOU’RE FASTER, AREN’T YOU?”

Trying your best to refrain from laughing at the two arguing, you knew Bokuto would be the one to do it simply for the ego boost. “Okay take Mr. Octopus, you got this babe!”

Standing outside of Kenma’s streaming room, Bokuto took several deep breaths and prepared himself to run in and right back out.

“Speed. Speed. I am speed.”

You started giggling behind Kuroo, while he hyped himself up. Akaashi looked as if he was losing the remainder of his brain cells, listening to Bokuto recite quotes from the movie, Cars.

“Ok, Lightning Mcqueen…”

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evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn · 3 years ago

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5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

Chapter 4: A Date With Destiny

Read on AO3 Chapter 1

Word count: 2991

Tw: Food, Almost an innuendo, Fear of not being accepted for orientation

~~~

"I think I'm ready."

Logan looks at himself in the mirror, adjusting his bowtie. He hadn't gone super extra with his 'date' outfit, despite Roman's insistence to go big or go home. (Which wouldn't really matter, as Thomas is home right now, and therefore they wouldn't need to go very far.)

Just a few changes, to treat himself. The blue striped bowtie, obviously, some black dress pants, black socks and a black dress shirt instead of a polo. He also tried out a new shampoo, just for that extra self-care. That may sound like a fairly big change, but Roman looked uncomfortable when he presented the outfit.

Roman waves his hand about, diverting his eyes. "Ugh, whatever. You look great. I still think a full tux would've been a better choice."

"That would most likely be overdressing. I don't want to go into this date looking like a buffoon, now do I?" He retorted, slipping on his dress shoes. They're sleek and black, with a heel that gives him just that extra added height.

"Pfft, coming from the Nerdy Professor! You look like a buffoon all the time, I'm just doing you a favor."

"You don't think I'm ready like this?" Logan asks.

"You do. You're rocking it. No romo." Roman says, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

"No... Romo?" He asks.

"Uh, yeah. Like... Uh, romantic. I invented it. Just now." Roman says, nervously fiddling with his sash.

"Oh." And if that doesn't feel like a metaphorical stab to the gut, Logan's not sure what it is.

Roman stands for a few seconds in silence, before looking away, into the mirror. "Now, go get your Daisy, Loguigi."

"That was a stretch, but thank you." Logan takes Roman's hand, squeezes it (he's sure Roman won't mind. He may think of it as a reassurance to calm Logan's nerves. Logan thinks of it as he wants to hold Roman's hand), and walks to the door.

"Logan-" Roman says before he can leave, and Logan turns back to him. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and seems to realize that Logan's waiting for him to say something. His hand reaches towards him, then recedes.

"Yes?"

"Good luck." He slumps, giving what seems to be an encouraging smirk. Logan nods, adjusing his bowtie once more, and strutting out of the room. If he had a cape, it would be flowing behind him dramatically, due to the sheer energy of his determination. Tonight is going to be the start of a big change.

"Alright Patton, prepare yourself for the strangest date you'll ever go on." He says in full confidence.

~~~

Patton sat at the dining table, feeling certainly awkward. Things certainly looked... Different. It was dim, mostly because the only light sources were an array of candles and a strand of fairy lights. There was a silky tablecloth thrown over the table, and a lovely bouquet of red roses in a glass vase as the centerpiece. There were also two glasses, and a bottle of red wine. Soft violin music played from an unknown source.

Usually this was something Patton would coo at. He always loved romance between people. Whenever Thomas and his boyfriends over the years hung out, it would be all he'd talk about. How happy he is for them. He'd even help Roman out with helping Thomas in his gestures of romance. It's true, Patton loved romance.

However, not when it was directed at himself.

He didn't want to be rude and leave, obviously. Logan set this up, and the last thing Patton wanted to do was break his heart beyond repair. He loves Logan as a friend, and he cares about him, and the emotions he barely lets himself show.

Patton twiddles with his thumbs, sweating quite a bit. He wonders what Roman has to do with this. He's certainly not also going to be here, unless this is a three-way date. That is unlikely, as there are only two chairs. Perhaps he's the wing-man? That would make sense, as he's much better in the romance category than Logan. But wait a minute, why would he help? Doesn't Roman-

"This is atmospheric." Patton gets pulled out of his thoughts by Logan standing there, looking at the decor. He takes a seat. Pouring himself a glass of the wine, he takes a big sip, before setting it down. "Patton, I have something to tell you."

Oh no.

Patton's sweating buckets now. "B-before you do, I just want to tell you that I respect you Logan, and that you're a very good person, and that I cherish the time we spend together, but I guess I haven't told you some very important information about myself, and I hope this doesn't hurt you too bad, it's that-" He takes a deep breath, about to spill. He's always been scared of this moment. Didn't he already tell Logan? Does he not believe in his identity? Patton opens his mouth to speak.

"You're aromantic. I know that Patton, and I respect that. Your orientation is completely justified and valid. I was going to tell you that this was not my idea. I do not harbor any romantic feelings for you, and I certainly don't expect you to either." Logan says, taking another sip of wine.

"Oh."

Well, that makes Patton feel much better.

"Then... Why are we here?" He asks, the nervous feeling replaced by confusion.

"Well..." Logan blushes as red as the wine. "I happened to be... Discussing my 'lack' of romantic feelings for... a side, which I realised was in fact a falsehood, and then that side happened to swoop in right after I realized, and mistook my presentation for being about you. Therefore, he decided to set us up."

The cogs in Patton's brain start to turn. He's not exactly known to be the brightest of the bunch, but he thinks he can decipher this one.

"Nm...Teh... Oh, it's Roman." He looks at Logan, who lowers his head into his hands.

"Yes. Yes it is." He admits.

"So, he doesn't know." Patton concludes.

"No, no he doesn't."

The words finally settle in, and Patton's face brightens significantly in a matter of milliseconds. "Oh my god! Logan! You like him!" He stands up, and jumps for joy. He twirls around the room a few times, and then pulls up Logan and gives him a hug. "I'm so proud of you kiddo."

"Thank you Patton. It certainly felt strange admitting it." Sighs, hugging him back. They break off soon after.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Patton asks, a little bit worried.

"I don't think I'm quite ready yet." They both sit down. "That's actually why I'm here. I was wondering if we could keep up a sort of facade for a while, until I'm ready to tell Roman. Obviously, we won't make anything official, but I could use your help, as I am not very skilled in this romance business, and we could use fake dates as a sort of counseling session. I could.. Use your help." Logan admits.

Patton is surprised, but delighted. "Oh! Well, thank you for telling me kiddo. I wouldn't mind helping you out." He pats Logan' shoulder encouragingly. "Do you... have a plan?"

"Not yet. I didn't want to start without you, in case I would need to scrap the whole thing." Logan takes another sip of wine.

“That’s absolutely A-okay. I don’t know if I’d be much help today though, cause this roller-coaster ‘date’ has really tired me out!” Patton says. (He’s never quite been put on the spot, and then given a plot twist like that one before. Oh wait, haha, he has.) He needs a bit of a mental break before he does any of that adultery thinking.

Logan looks around the room. “We aren’t on a roller coaster.”

“It’s an expression.” Patton clarifies. He sighs, adjusting himself on the seat. “I forgot that I haven’t come out to Roman yet. Or the others, for that matter.”

“You don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable. There’s never a bad reason not to come out.” Logan assures him, finishing his glass of wine. “And if you ever need my help, I will be there to support you in whatever ways I can.”

“Alrighty kiddo.” He smiles, looking to the kitchen.

“Do we have any leftover cookies?”

Patton suddenly looks guilty. “Well… About that.”

“Patton.” Logan’s gaze snaps to him, surprised. “Last time I checked, there were at least five left.”

“It wasn’t just me! Janus had one too!” He pleads, stating his case.

“One? That leaves four.” Logan squints at him. “I wanted at least two more for myself.”

A light in Patton’s brain ignites, and he jumps up. “Oh! What do you say we turn this into a baking ‘date’ then??” He does over exaggerated quotations with his hands on ‘date’.

“Bake ‘date’ it is then.” Logan fixes his bowtie in steely determination, and they both make their way to the kitchen.

~~~

“How did the date go?” Roman asks when Logan returns to his room, a giant fluffy red robe draped over himself, face mask on, and nails in the process of being painted. He’s got some showtunes that Logan doesn’t know the name of playing from a vinyl record player, which is illogical, because he’s pretty sure the musical is modern and that they can’t play voices, but he doesn’t comment.

“It went surprisingly… Well. He told me he may need a few more dates to make a decision.” Logan lies, trying to put anything other than indifference in his voice.

“Oh.” Roman looks taken aback for a second. “That’s great Specs. I’m proud of you.” The shaky hand he was painting swerves off to the side, and nail polish gets all over his finger. He looks at it, sighs, and puts the brush back into the bottle.

“You know, it isn’t a good idea to paint your nails in bed.” Logan sits on the edge, (of his own bed. Strange how Roman didn't just go back to his own room. He’s quite the stark contrast, him and his items bright red in a sensible dull, midnight blue room.) and turns his torso to face him.

“But it’s so much more dramatiiic. Besides, you told me not to touch your desk, and I am a princ- uh, a man of my word.” He laughs a little nervous laugh. “Besides, I can just clean it up with the powers of magic.”

“That’s nice.” Logan says, distracted by Roman’s nails. He’s hiding the hand he messed up. On his non-dominant hand, he has masterfully done nails, red with golden designs, such as a crown on his middle finger, a flower pattern on his pointer, thumb and pinky, and on the ring finger there’s an ‘L’...

Logan gently extends his hand. “Can I see?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” Roman lets him take his hand. Up close he notices that the gold is sparkly. Certainly a touch that is in character.

“What does the ‘L’ stand for?” Logan asks, looking at him.

Roman seems to burst red in the face. “O-Ooh it means ‘Left’. I… Often forget which direction is which, so I put it on my nails to remember. There’s no second meaning behind it or anything. Not at all.” He smiles wide.

Now Logan suspects there may be a second meaning, but he does not comment. “Is it okay for me to see your other hand?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to, I mean, it’s not nearly as good and it isn’t at all finished and I just made a mistake-”

“I didn’t ask if I would want to see it. I asked if you were okay with me seeing it.” Logan cuts his self-deprecating ramble off, assuring him softly. “I won’t look for the imperfections if you don’t want me to.”

“I…” Roman sighs and nods. “Go ahead.”

Logan takes Roman’s right hand gently with his own, and brings it close enough to inspect. It retains the same colors, but even with just the base red layer it looks a little bit less neatly done. The color extends past the cuticle, and you can see little bumps and imprints of things that accidentally touched the nail before it could fully dry. It wasn’t bad, per se, because those things could easily be fixed without removing the entire coating, but it probably seemed pretty bad to Roman when comparing it to his other hand. And then there was the streak, which was unfortunate but can be arranged.

“I can help you with this hand, if you’d like.” He offers, much to Roman’s surprise.

“Sure… But you don’t have to-”

“Preposterous. I want to help, and although I am not a master in the arts and creating designs, I happen to be a master duplicator. I believe Virgil described it as ‘cloning but like without the technology part and shit’. I even remade an exact duplicate of a frankly disgusting and creepy doll for Remus from scratch.”

“Oh.” Roman laughs softly. “Talented.”

“Yes. I am.” Logan says, internally giddy from the compliment. He uncaps the nail polish remover from a very fancy tray, where all the supplies are stationed on. “We just need this for the stain.” He takes a cotton pad, letting go of Roman’s hands to wet it, and recaps the bottle. He retakes Roman’s right hand, and lightly swipes the pad across the smear.

“You smell like baking.” Roman notes, barely over a whisper.

“That makes sense. We did some baking. Mostly me, and he kind of watched until they were ready to decorate.” He places the cotton pad in a little glass junk bowl on the tray.

“Are you sure he’s not just going to use these dates to make him cookies?” He says lightheartedly, tapping his other hand along to the sound of the music.

“Perhaps” Logan laughs a little bit. “Actually, I set aside a bunch for you. They’re in a bag, wrapped in a ribbon. That usually wards off everyone else from eating what’s inside for a few days, but do get to them before the fourth day because that’s often when Remus loses his patience.” He doesn’t admit that it was a spur of the moment decision, and that he felt like a lovesick fool setting aside those for him. He did admit that to Patton though, who chuckled.

“Mmm, thank you. What kind?” Roman asks, as Logan uncaps the red nail polish bottle and starts applying a light coat on each nail to even things out.

“Cranberry and White Chocolate Chip.” Roman’s favorite. That may have also been on purpose.

“Oh.” He says, and that’s where that subject of conversation ends. Logan continues applying the coating, then recaps the bottle.

“Alright, this will need to dry.” Logan guides his hand to a solid resting place. They sit quietly for a moment, only the sound of what he recognizes as Razzle Dazzle playing. It’s quite strange to have music in here. The rows and rows of dark-wood bookshelves, kept neat and clean, seem much brighter like this. His planning cork-board, with strings run around and pictures and notes in a neat order (along with the depressing sight of his calendar), looks less dull. Maybe it’s his mood. Maybe it’s just Roman.

“Logan?”

“Yes?”

Roman scoots over, without moving his drying hand. He leans in closely, looking just above Logan’s eyeline.

“Y-yes?” He squirms as Roman reaches with his dry hand to the top of his head. He shakes Logan’s hair, and he presumes it looks like a mess now.

“Flour.”

“What?” Logan asks, as he returns to sitting like he did before.

“You had flour in your hair. It was bothering me.” Roman informs him, pointing to his head.

“Ah.” They return to their silence.

When Logan determines the perfect time for the polish to dry, he uncaps the glittery gold nail pen. Using the other hand as reference, he copies the designs finger by finger, putting all of his concentration into it.

“And… We’ll put an ‘R’ here... ” He tries his best to copy the font of the swirly ‘L’. It looks pretty good, if he does say so himself. Which he does say out loud.”

“Yeah, it does. Thank you Logan.” He looks up at Roman, who smiles a very shy smile. He suddenly brightens, and jumps up, rattling the tray and scaring Logan. “Aha! I’ve thought of a perfect nickname! Holm Office Photopy Machine! I need to write that down.” He fumbles around, and then summons himself a very used-looking sketchbook. He stays standing on the bed, flipping through pages and then scribbling it down.

“That certainly is long.” Logan adjusts his glasses in surprise.

“Long like my- Sorry that was a strange thought.” Roman makes his things disappear, checks his nails, and then flops back down onto the bed.

“I hate to bother you, but at one point I’m going to have to sleep on here.” He watches as Roman unsticks his face-masked face from the bed in disgust.

“Why did I do that- Oh, yeah, sorry.” Roman gets up, looking guilty, and certainly not as fancy as he did before, fibres from the blankets stuck to his face mask and some of the mask still attached to Logan’s bed. Still, he’s got his stupid smile on his face, and that power stance. He’s…

“Wonderful.” Logan says under his breath as Roman’s turning to leave.

Unfortunately, he heard, and he turns back, confused. “Huh?”

“One earful.”

“Alright.” Roman looks perhaps even more confused, but turns back and sinks out, with a “Buh-bye Specs.”

When he’s out of Logan’s room, he snaps his fingers to rid of the mess (He left the tray there too. The nerve. The gall. He sends it to Roman’s room, and prays that it lands somewhere incredibly inconvenient just for revenge sake. He also keeps the record player, because he could use some music in his life) and prepares for bed.

Step 1: Complete.

~~~

Taglist:

@crossiantgay

#logince #logince fic #ts logan #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #patton sanders #ts patton #tw food #oliver writes #5 Reasons fic

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-18: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“Why do you look like someone who got caught red-handed with their hand in the cookie jar?“

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

For the next one week, I threw myself into the making of Lin Yao's dress.

MC: It's finally done! Now all that's left is the fitting; but she's so busy, I don't know when she'll be able to schedule a fitting session.

Zheng Lin: You're lucky. Lin Yao will be coming down today for a shoot for "Neverland", a magazine that's under a subsidiary of Warson's.

Zheng Lin: You can contact her agent and check with them about it.

MC: Will do!

Because of her tight schedule, the fitting session ended up being slotted after the shoot.

The magazine's shooting location was at a studio near Warson. Brother Mao had already brought the dress over for me beforehand.

❖☆———————————★❖

By the time I finally finished my work on hand and headed out of the office, ready to cross the alley over to the studio, a spot of white at a corner of a wall caught my attention.

The person carefully looked around before slowly crouching down, seemingly in search of something.

MC: ...Why does that person look so familiar?

I approached the figure as I mused about that. A silver head of hair, dressed entirely in white; the answer clicked in my head almost immediately.

SARIEL!? What's he doing here!?

What surprised me, even more, was the fact that he was currently facing a couple of dustbins and a pile of discarded items.

Wasn't Sariel all about cleanliness!? The headlines were already flashing in my head. "The Black History of the Top of the Top Designer Scavenging for Rubbish".

I hurriedly shook my head and threw the absurd thought out of the window.

★Night Choice: Sneak away

I should hurry and sneak away before he realizes I'm here…

I lightened my footsteps and prepared to sneak away from him behind his back.

Sariel: You. What are you doing here?

MC: !

He saw me! I could only turn around and smile sheepishly at him.

MC: What a coincidence to meet you here, Director Qi...

He'd already reverted to his usual high and haughty self. He watched me with his arms folded.

Sariel: How coincidental, indeed. Why is it that every time I see you, not only are you not taking your job seriously, but also look like you're harbouring a guilty conscience?

MC: But, you were squatting on the ground doing god-knows-what earlier. Isn't that more…

Sariel: What did you say?

MC: Nope! Nothing at all! What great weather out today!!

The words had just left my mouth when a cloud gently floated past the sky above us.

Sariel raised his eyebrows, the contempt reflected in his eyes speaking larger than words. I had the nagging feeling that he was about to start berating me again.

Sariel: Don't change the topic. What exactly are you doing here?

☆Light Choice: Watch curiously

Logically thinking about it, I should sneak away while I still had the chance since he hadn't noticed me yet; but, I couldn't quite stop my curiosity.

Plus, seeing Sariel like that really gives people a lot to think about. Not only does he look terribly secretive about something, but he was also crouched by a dustbin in search of something.

MC: Just what is he looking for?

I followed his line of sight, but all I could see was a pile of yellow sand, a few steel frames, and two rubbish bins. I looked away in confusion, but my eyes were soon met with his inquisitive ones the moment I raised my head.

MC: D-D-Director Qi!

I was startled so bad that my words came out in a stuttered mess. Sariel had already stood back up, facing me with folded arms.

Sariel: What are you doing here? And why do you look like someone who got caught red-handed with their hand in the cookie jar?

MC: I'm only passing by for work purposes…

Sariel: Do I look that easy to fool to you?

MC: I'm not lying. I'm only passing by because of work! I'm headed to the shooting studio over there!

I hurriedly pointed to the shooting studio situated at the other end of the alleyway to prove my innocence. He glanced over before his eyes flickered back to me. He stared me in the eye for a while before finally breaking contact.

MC: Are you looking for something, Director? Do you need me to help look for it with you?

Sariel: ...What did you see?

He suddenly stiffens. That expression of his… Did I see something I shouldn't have?

MC: Nothing! Zilch, nada! I didn't see anything!

Sariel: I don't need your help. Hurry along your merry way now.

MC: Oh, okay… See you then, Director.

Sariel only released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding only after the girl's figure disappeared.

He picked up a small branch, meticulously giving it a thorough cleansing before surveying the area once more. After confirming that there was no one in the vicinity, he crouched back down. He poked the mound of sand. No reaction. He knocked on the trash cans. Nothing.

Sariel: …...

The sunlight shines upon the ground, highlighting the speck of dirt staining his shoe.

He resisted the urge to wipe it clean. Instead, he continued to poke the mound of sand near him.

And in the next moment, the mound of sand moved. The fallen leaves that had been above it letting out a crisp "crunch".

Sariel's brow furrowed as he used the stick to flick the sand away bit by bit.

Sariel: Come out.

A plump lizard poked its head out of the sand with great difficulty. One glance at Sariel was enough to make it burst into tears.

Lizard: Old Qi! You've finally come for me! Hurry and save me! I won't leave home again! I'm not complaining if you make me go vegetarian anymore!

Sariel: Silence.

Sariel unscrewed the cap of a bottle of mineral water, placing it on the floor before retreating a couple of steps.

Sariel: Wash yourself before you go. If I spot a single grain of sand back home...

Lizard: I'm gonna be turned into a braised lizard.

He let out a satisfied sneer before taking a big stride away, turning to leave.

Lizard: Hey! Wait up, Old Qi! Who's that human girl just now?

Lizard: I'd passed out, but I reawakened when I heard her voice!

Lizard: I can't help but feel like she sounds a little familiar. Like I've heard her before...

Sariel stops and suddenly turns back around.

Sariel: What did you say?

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Achoo!

I consecutively sneezed thrice as I headed to the shooting studio. Is someone talking about me behind my back or something?

❖☆———————————★❖

I entered the shooting studio as I thought it over, only to see Brother Mao, who was standing by the entrance, the moment I looked up.

Brother Mao: You're here only NOW? Here, here. Come here!

MC: What's up, Brother Mao? It's still early, no? Why are you so panicky?

Brother Mao: The shooting ended early— No, wait. I suppose I should say that it's been forcibly postponed till tomorrow.

MC: Huh? But why?

Brother Mao: Because of Lin Yao's agent, of course!

Brother Mao: She said that the photographers weren't the ones that they'd chosen, so they weren't going to be shooting today. She said that they were going to do it tomorrow instead when the right photographers are here!

Brother Mao: You know how I'm usually fast to run my mouth? Well, the scariest thing was that I couldn't even put a word in...

MC: ……

MC: What did Lin Yao say about it?

Brother Mao: She only stood there, not a peep from her. From the looks of it, it looks like both mother and daughter are in agreement.

MC: Mother and daughter? The agent's her mom?

Brother Mao: Yeah. I think she pampers her kid too much. That's why she's being so picky and choosy with us.

MC: Well, that shouldn't be the case. All reports have said that Lin Yao is very sensible and easy to talk with.

Brother Mao: Hell, I don't know! Go take a look for yourself.

MC: And Lin Yao? Where's she now?

Brother Mao: She went to try out the clothes.

Brother Mao: I have a bad feeling, though. Her agent had a look of distaste on her face when she took the clothes earlier. I don't know if she—

BANG!

The door to the dressing room suddenly flung open with terrifying viciousness.

Brother Mao and I jumped in fright. A cold and shrill feminine voice sounded before we could even react in time.

??: You call these clothes wearable!?

Brother Mao: And that's the agent.

Following the rapid clicking of high heels, a woman dressed in a sleeveless dress walked up to him and stared him down with her hands on her hips.

Agent: Our Yaoyao is sincerely and earnestly putting in the effort for this cooperation. She even especially delayed her flight!

Agent: All for the sake of trying on her dress!

Agent: Yet, how dare you give us this half-hearted dress that's not even suitable!? I want to see your Designer!

MC: ……

MC: Hello. I am (Y/n), the Designer.

Agent: Is Warson treating us as fools? You're so young; you must be an intern! Warson can't just ride roughshod over its customers like that!

Brother Mao: Who says that being young equals being an intern!? She's one of our best Designers!

Brother Mao had a vein protruding on his forehead in his ire. I quickly reassured him that everything was fine.

MC: You can feel free to tell me just what about this outfit you're unsatisfied with. This is what this fitting session is for. I will try my best to modify it.

The agent coldly contemplated us for a good long while before turning and walking back into the dressing room. Brother Mao and I followed after her.

❖☆———————————★❖

Although I had a calm facade on the outside, I was a whirlwind of emotions within. I most definitely didn’t know what Lin Yao looked like, wearing those clothes.

Upon seeing her, I felt my heart plummet to the ground with a loud thud, as if it were a stone.

She stood there indifferently, positioned between light and shadows. Her skin was so pale that it appeared as if light could permeate through it. She looked like a dark elf emerging from the depths of the moonlit waters.

She slowly turns around at the sound. She had an expressionless look on her face. Was she in a bad mood?

Agent: What’s with this gloomy colour? Pink is what suits our Yaoyao best! Get it? Girly pink!

Agent: Also, this dress is way too short! It should reach below the knees at least so that it can highlight her pureness and innocence.

Agent: These metal tassels are inappropriate as well! God knows if they’ll think that she’s a bad girl wearing these!

Agent: Also, Yaoyao got injured while filming beforehand, so her scar must be covered.

Brother Mao: But, you never mentioned anything about scars beforehand…?

Agent: Who would want to be injured? It’s an accident.

Looking at the scars on Lin Yao’s forearm and wrist, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity.

MC: I will think of something for her scars. The other aspects of the design were designed to suit the character she portrays, that's why I didn't go for the innocent and soft look.

MC: I also hope that Miss Lin Yao here will be able to portray a different image to the masses with this outfit.

Agent: You are a Designer, are you not? It is your DUTY to help us make these adjustments.

I ignored her, walking straight to Lin Yao.

MC: Miss Lin Yao, may I ask if this dress is satisfactory to you?

MC: If you do not like it, then we can shelve this and I'll start designing a new one right now. You can just tell me if that's the case; there's no need to feel bad.

Lin Yao was silent. She seemed to be looking at me, yet not quite. She gradually pressed her lips into a thin line, as if making a hard decision.

I was just about to take her silence as a “no” when she finally spoke.

Lin Yao: Mother. This style is what's been recently trending. You can't deny that this might open more doors for me in the future.

Lin Yao: And, have you already forgotten the interview by the media the other day where they were asking when I'd be able to change my image once in a while?

Upon hearing this, her agent shot her a long and profound look, as if she’d wanted to say something, yet it wasn’t too convenient for her to do so seeing as we were also present. Eventually, she gave a reluctant nod.

Agent: Fine. I’ll go ask about the photographer issue again. Hurry and change back out of your clothes.

Brother Mao shot me a look before following after her.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-15) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-21)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

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echo-three-one · 3 years ago

Text

The Bounty Hunter - 3

The abandoned mine was Barkov's consistent trading area for water and Alex decided to give it a visit. What would they discover inside?

Series Masterlist

Part 3

The blistering heat of the sun was already permeating through Alex's clothes. The flannel was admittedly suitable for warm weather, but this kind of intense heat was already too much that he already took off his vest.

Soap was already a few meters ahead of him when he decided to stop and grab his flask of water, gulping it down thirstily as excess drops trickled all over his chin down to his neck until it dried out just by his chest.

"Haaaah. This heat is killing me!" He sighed as the refreshing liquid cooled his system.

"Hey! We're almost there!" Soap waved from afar, his deep tone was barely audible in the vast plains, but Alex kind of got the idea.

"Wait up!" He yelled as he let his horse gallop through the gap between them as Soap stopped for a drink. No wonder Barkov liked the abandoned mine as a pick up point, it was so far from civilization that no one would ever waste their time going there.

"Of all the days we decide to go there, It's gotta be the one with zero clouds." Soap complained as they slowly galloped through the empty field, the only thing present was a few cactuses, tumbleweeds and a small bit of the mine they're supposed to go to.

"Is it that one?" Alex asked, squinting as he was pointing at the little dot over the horizon. Soap nodded and turned to him.

"Aye. Looks a wee bit far, eh? That's the top of the mountain. The entrance is quite near." He assured as his horse neighed and they trotted faster.

"Okay, lead the way then." Alex muttered.

"So, you and Kate?" John asked. Alex found a hint of hesitation in his voice, like he wanted to know what's up but he also doesn't want to hear the news.

"We uh… " Alex pondered. He was treading on thin ice here, considering John was her childhood and only friend, and him getting in the way between them was getting awkward. However, John's easy denial earlier hinted to the bounty hunter that there was still doubt, hope and lingering feelings. Not that this mattered at the moment, but to piss John off meant losing his guide home.

"... we're figuring things out. Everything happened in a flash. It's not that things could escalate-" Alex muttered only to be met by John's palm.

"Shh.." He whispered as they trotted across the mine entrance. John stepped down from his horse and stared at the horses near the cave.

"We've got company. And it's not good." John immediately stepped back and rode his horse, urging the mammal to move away from the mines as fast as possible.

"Hey hey hey! What's wrong?!" Alex quickly followed as John found himself a hiding spot by the rocks.

"Karim and her partner's in there. Probably mapping out the whole place. I can't afford to be seen helping you out." he whispered as he peeked once more, pulling the horse down within visible range.

"It's a dead end anyway. You can't explore with her around. She'll never let you in." John added. Alex quickly got down his horse and gave John a quick pep talk.

"Look, if Karim claims to be a bounty hunter she'll accept help. Especially that she's after the most notorious of them all. Trust me. Now tie down that horse and guide me within the mines. I'll take care of you when she asks." John looked up and stared at Alex's eyes. He'd been good at detecting liars as some of the bar customers exhibit such tactics to get free drinks, but what Alex was exhibiting was pure genuinity.

"Fine. I've only been here once. Let's hope nothing has changed since I last got here." He got up and tightened his pants, pulling his horse by the reins and tied it to the fence.

"Got a light?" Alex asked as he pulled a lantern off of his horse's bag, allowing John to spark up his lighter to ignite the flame.

"I'll stay near." He handed the lantern to the bartender as they navigated the dark mines.

Hot dry air encircled the duo as they pressed deeper into the cave. The only sound was their footprints along with the occasional drops of water from the ceiling. So far, the route only offered a straight path, slowly descending into the deeper part of the cave network.

"This is the most absurd place to trade water." Alex muttered, his voice echoed across the tunnel.

"Who's there?!" A distinct female voice with an accent roared, followed by the echoes of what sounded like guns clicking.

"It's me John from the bar!" He yelled, his hands easily raised to surrender despite not seeing Farah or any light source ahead of him.

"What are you doing here?" A male voice followed. Alex raised an eyebrow, questioning the presence of Karim's partner.

"He's taking me on a tour." Alex declared, defending John from the threatening male voice.

"I half expected I'd see you here, Alex." Farah said as she invited them into their location. John led the way to a small opening leading to an open area where light peeked through a huge crack by the mountain, revealing a huge functioning train track with trolleys already ready for the next drop.

"Whoever's dealing with Barkov is ready. These trolleys weren't here yesterday." The male partner informed them as they approached the area to investigate.

"Gaz, this is Alex. He's also after Barkov." Farah introduced as the men had a staring contest which ended with a nod. Gaz and Alex acknowledged the competition and decided that being selfish isn't going to be of any help.

"Nice to meet you." Alex greeted him.

"You too." Gaz replied with his arms crossed.

"Where does it lead?" Alex asked as he kicked the wheels, testing its capability to move.

"Tracks split into two different cave networks. The other one led deeper into the mine while the other one led to the worker's quarters." Gaz informed, pointing to the two entrances not far from the beginning of the tracks.

"We already explored the quarters yesterday and it turned out empty. If you want to see it for yourself, go ahead. We'll be investigating the other route." Gaz and Farah paced to the other entrance leaving Alex and John behind.

"What's your call?" John looked at Alex with an expression of relief, wondering how Farah let this man work with her.

"Let's check out the quarters." Alex muttered as they made their way to the other side of the fork on the road.

Not too far from the entrance, the track ends on a wall in the middle of a huge room that once housed tired miners. Rusty lockers, broken tables and ripped hammocks surrounded the area as John illuminated it with their lantern.

"I'm no investigator but I see no sense creating train tracks here so close to the start." He muttered, checking out some items sprawled around the room. Alex just stared at the huge wall pondering about John's initial thoughts. Something the two of them noticed upon entry.

"Well, I guess my trail ends here. Let's head home." He muttered, exiting the scene as John quickly followed him back.

"What about the other route?" John asked, catching up to him.

"Not worth checking." He dismissed, silencing the curious man.

"Well, if that's the case then… is it safe to assume you wasted your time here?" John asked.

"Not really. What's important is that they're still using this route this month." Alex mounted on his horse as they both went back to town.

"This meal tastes delicious, Kate!" John exclaimed as he chewed happily on his meal. Once they got back, Kate invited them over for lunch, something that the two needed.

Alex eyed Kate and nodded as Kate smiled at the thought of it.

"I haven't prepared a meal for others in quite a while. I'm glad I still had it in me." She shyly commented as the two clearly appreciated her meal.

"So, what did you find out there? Guessing from the pace of your eating, you had a tough time?" She asked.

"Well the weather was particularly hot today, so that basically burned us out." Alex replied, downing a glass of water.

"Did Isabelle treat you well?" She asked with a smile. Alex could clearly see something forming once again between them and he was truly convinced that this was more than just basic attraction.

"Yeah. She's a good horse. Never made a problem for me." Alex chuckled as Kate hovered her hand against his.

"Good." she smiled as their eyes met. He was slightly worried that John would feel odd about this, but he trusted his words were genuine. His words saying that he could never go to her as more than a friend.

"Thanks for lunch, Kate. Delicious as always. I've got to get some sleep now. I've been awake for almost a whole day." he chuckled as he grabbed his hat and left the kitchen, leaving the two alone.

"So… what's next for the cowboy?" She purred, as her hands tightened against his. Alex quickly reciprocated as their hands intertwined with one another.

"A bath and a nap… and maybe something along the way?" he raised an eyebrow as a wide suggestive grin flashed on his face.

"I like how you think." She smiled as she slowly straddled on his lap and reached out for a kiss.

The rest of the day went by and by the time Alex woke up, it was already midnight. Kate was sound asleep beside him and a quick peek at the window revealed to him a person guarding the tower. He thought about the abandoned mine, the night raids and Barkov. Something didn't make any sense. A town raid where nothing gets stolen. And these townspeople just let this thing happen? It just didn't make sense.

So, he dressed up and went to the most sensible place to ponder.

"Welcome to the Saloon 141. Can I get you anything?" Soap greeted as Alex pushed the double doors and sat on the bar.

"The usual." He muttered as Soap expertly brewed his drink and set it in front of him.

"Barkov's resupply is almost near. Any final preparations?" Soap whispered as Alex gulped a shot and asked for another.

"I have a feeling he won't do it this time. The mine looked like a trap." He muttered as Soap frowned.

"You think Barkov knew?" His voice was shaky. No doubt he was afraid that somehow Barkov would track him down.

"One way or another, yeah."

"What about Farah and Gaz? Why didn't you warn them?"

"They knew it. That's why they let us in. The only thing they can do there is look for evidence." he muttered as he downed another shot.

"So the elusive one escaped again…" he sighed.

"I've had enough of these raids man, I just wanted to sleep peacefully." John added, groaning in frustration.

"Speaking of raids… when was the last?" Alex asked.

"A few months ago… The sheriff actually captured one of the members. They're from another town. The captured man was promised protection if he joined the cause."

"And I assume that cause is unknown."

"Aye. Sheriff Price tried everything to let the guy talk but this one was a blind follower. He had nowhere to go, that's why he joined. It's some sort of cult thing."

"A raid without anything stolen…" Alex scratched his chin.

"Maybe they're stealing people? Because we hide when they arrive, so they have no one to steal?" Soap suggested. It made sense, maybe the raids are just ways to recruit people to join a cause. That's one way to recruit, by force. Especially when you have no resources like money to make them commit.

"That's a good idea." Alex said as he placed his payment and bid his bartender friend goodbye.

As soon as the sun rose up, the whole town was greeted by a corpse sprawled in the middle of the road. As soon as Alex got there, the Sheriff had already investigated the scene and held John for an interview.

Rumors quickly spread that this was John's friend from another town, the one that works for someone that deals water to Barkov. The murmurs also revealed a note drawn in blood saying "Not today, Bounty Hunter." Which the whole town assumed to be Farah and Gaz.

They left them alone back on the mines yesterday and he hadn't heard from them since. He quickly dashed back to his inn and asked Kate for permission to borrow her horse.

"Kate, can I borrow Isabelle for a while?" He quickly got up to Kate, who was already dressed and carrying a bag.

"Are you going to the mines? I'll come with you." She said. Alex had a lot of questions going on in his mind but the urgency of the matter made him dismiss it.

"Okay. But-" He asked.

"Sheriff Price radioed me. Farah and Gaz might be in danger."

Part 3 - The Mines, Gaz and Barkov's message

#alex echo 3 1 #john soap mactavish #john price #farah karim #kyle gaz garrick #thebountyhunter #horrayfic

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voidstilesplease · 4 years ago

Text

Fandom/s: Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus

Pairing/s: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Percy Jackson

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Alternate Universe - Mortal, Cheating, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Angst, Bad Decisions, OOC Characters, a significant amount of Taylor Swift references

Chapter 3

But the possibility that Piper knows about it didn't cross her mind. Percy had mentioned being back in town for a few days now, but Piper could not have known that, right? If Piper did, she would have told Annabeth right away because if anybody knows about Annabeth's broken heart pining after Percy all these years, it's Piper. She would've said something.

III.

And soon enough, you're best friends.

Laughing at the other girls who think they're so cool.

/./

Annabeth jerks awake from disturbances originating in the general vicinity of her kitchen. In her half-asleep state, her usually sharp mind turns to a useless mush. So with what mentality she can grasp, she concludes that it's possibly just her cutlery deciding to worm their way out the drawer to skydive to the kitchen floor. Her dream-silly brain likes the image she conjures. After all, not everybody's cutlery would be as adventurous as hers if that should be the case.

Maybe they want to remind Annabeth that they still exist, and she can use them sometimes. Good point, she thinks, but between blueprints after blueprints shoved to her at work, she doesn't have the time to be guilty about using only one spoon for her morning mashed potatoes. Unless it can wash, wipe itself dry, and put itself back to the drawer, she's sticking to her one-spoon-morning routine, thank you very much - that's all she can spare the time to clean.

She squints one eye open and sighs in relief to find that her entire bedroom blanketed in the same comforting darkness that engulfed her to sleep the previous evening. Yesterday morning had been hell. The sun had glared at her accusingly like she had done something wrong by sleeping it through past her alarm after a murderous evening at work. Usually, Annabeth scares people away when she glares at them, so she tried to glare back at the sun, and if she didn't have a degree in architecture and a line of buildings credited to her name, she'd have doubted her own intellectual capacity. She had hauled her ass up from the bed and went about her routine like she'd swallowed an entire pack of Sour Patch in one go. That morning would have sucked completely if it weren't for Percy.

Percy. Who's back in town. For good.

Whom Annabeth is going to have dinner with this evening.

A smile automatically tugs at her lips. In her kitchen, something clatters again, and she sighs. She moves her head to peek up at the alarm clock on the table. It's only fifteen minutes past seven.

She groans.

Now she can hear the blender whirring to life and the unmistakable 'ding' of her toaster. Any sane person who is aware of not having a roommate should already be springing off their bed and grabbing the nearest weapon they can use to bonk the intruder's head.

But Annabeth is used to the intrusion - this is her life now. So, she calmly gets off the bed and folds her sheets. She opens the door to her room and walks the short distance to her kitchen. As the whirring continues, she remembers the first time she woke to the noises. Annabeth wishes she can say that she was calm then, but she wasn't.

She had jumped out of bed, heart drumming so fast in her chest, and took the only item she could find in her room that could bash anybody's brains out - a baseball bat. (She didn't like the sport. It was just a souvenir from a memorable day. Her heart belonged to swimming. Or, though it wasn't clear to her at the time, to a specific swimmer.) As stealthily as she could, she tiptoed on the cold floor to knock someone out who thought they could use her kitchen while robbing her blind.

As it turned out, she had almost bashed her friend Piper.

Piper, bless her, had been unfazed. Not even after seeing the raised baseball bat and Annabeth's wide, frantic eyes. Piper gave her an innocent smile and a chirpy good morning, then went back to chopping celery, ignoring Annabeth's confusion and gaping mouth.

Piper grins as soon as Annabeth appears in the kitchen. "Good morning, Annie!" she lowers the cup of coffee she's holding on the table in front of Annabeth, who immediately reaches for it.

"This smells amazing," Annabeth closes her eyes and inhales. It is why she loves having Piper around for breakfast. She doesn't remember when Piper decided to be her mother, but as long as it benefits Annabeth with cooked meals and non-Starbucks coffee, she's not complaining.

But she can't exactly complain about Starbucks coffee, though. Not when Starbucks brought Percy back to her life - sort of. She realized that if Piper had come yesterday, she'd have missed Percy. But the fates brought Piper to her apartment today so she could meet Percy yesterday. She smiles contentedly at her coffee.

Piper doesn't miss her dopey smile. She raises a brow, pouring the contents of the blender on a tall glass. "Is it that good?"

"No words," Annabeth answers with a silly grin.

Piper draws her eyebrows in suspicion, "Why do I feel like we're not talking about the coffee?"

Annabeth shrugs.

Piper narrows her eyes but lets it go. Knowing Annabeth, it's probably a work-related high. Piper sets her glass of smoothie on the table and sits beside her friend. "Hey, I remember," she says, taking her phone out and starts browsing. "Juniper asked me to show you these." Piper swipes image after image as Annabeth waits curiously. Finally, she passes the phone to Annabeth.

Annabeth takes it and promptly gasps. "Are these for the wedding?" She draws the phone closer to examine the picture. It's of a forest-painted canvas with a man and a woman in the center, holding each other's hands as they walk side-by-side in the middle of a flower-field surrounded by butterflies. Annabeth looks up to Piper for confirmation. When she nods, Annabeth shakes her head in amazement. "That is beautiful."

"I know!" Piper takes the phone from Annabeth, glancing at the picture again before putting it down on the table. "When Juniper sent the picture to me, my eyes goggled."

Annabeth chuckles, "Grover and Juniper commissioned the right artist."

Piper nods in agreement, "And they're even getting it for, like, half the usual price. I suddenly want to get married." She smiles dreamily, reaching for her smoothie.

Annabeth laughs. Jason and Piper have been together since they were in High School. To be fair, they are practically like a married couple - sharing an apartment, sharing bills, considering the possibility of sharing a dog. They've even met each other's parents and got one another's mother or father smitten with them. It's perfectly sensible if they decide to legalize it. With that in mind, Annabeth asks, "So why don't you?"

Piper stiffens, and she briefly averts her eyes before giving Annabeth a wan smile. "He hasn't asked me yet," she says softly, looking away from Annabeth, slurping half-heartedly at her vegetable smoothie.

Annabeth bites her lower lip, mentally reprimanding herself for her careless asking. She didn't mean to poke on touchy subjects. She didn't even know it was a touchy subject at all. "Well," she begins awkwardly. "I'm sure you'll get there anyway." Annabeth offers a smile, hoping to ease the sudden tension.

Piper shrugs, "I'm not in a hurry. Jason's it for me." she pauses, then adds with uncertainty, "I just hope I'm it for him."

Annabeth frowns at the statement. "Now that's ridiculous, Piper." She reaches to touch her friend's hand a bit forcefully. She looks her dead in the eyes and says in total assurance. "Jason's head over heels for you, okay, it's almost criminal that you think you're not it for him."

Piper lifts her eyes, a hint of smile ghosting in her pouting lips. "You think so?"

"You're an idiot for even doubting,"

That seems to alleviate Piper's insecurity, at least for the moment, because she smirks at Annabeth. "Yeah, I guess I'm an idiot. Of course, Jason can't get enough of me. I mean, come on."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. Piper's weird sometimes.

She happily slurps at her smoothie now, humming a chipper tune. She reaches for the plate of toasts and passes it to Annabeth along with a jar of strawberry jam. Annabeth just watches her with amusement.

They eat in silence for a moment before Annabeth hears a clearing of a throat. She looks up to see Piper looking at her intently. Of course, Piper didn't come into her apartment early in the morning just to accompany her to a lovely, peaceful breakfast.

"…Yes?" Annabeth prompts with resignation. If this is happening -and it is- because it's Piper's business now to harass Annabeth, she wants to get it over with sooner than later. She mentally prepares for the onslaught of Piper's usual intros. But, instead of saying "There's this spa that we should check out," or "Do you remember Mark Castillo from 10th grade? Did you see his Facebook status change to Single last night?" or "We should shop new underwears for you, Annie. What you have are boring me to death", she said:

"How's work?"

That certainly catches Annabeth off-guard. Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

At Annabeth's incredulous expression, Piper says defensively. "What?" she reaches for another toast. "Am I not allowed to ask about your work?"

"You're not interested in my work." Annabeth deadpans.

"I'm asking, aren't I?" Annabeth detects the unspoken 'duh'. "And I know a little about architecture, mind you. I just want to know how you're doing at work."

Annabeth hums unconvincingly, taking another sip of her coffee. She decides to ride along with it. "Well, for starters, I'm up to my neck busy. As always."

Piper nods for her to go on.

"We've contracted a new project for downtown."

Piper hums.

"It's nothing major, but the area is swarming with water pipes -many of which are old ones- so we have to be extra careful with the planning."

Piper nods, "But you aren't the only one working on it, right?"

"No. I have a team." Annabeth confirms.

"So," Piper stretches the 'o', studying the toast in her hand a little too casually. "That means that even if you weren't around, say you went out or something, a whole team is still gonna work on it?"

Annabeth narrows her eyes skeptically, "…I suppose. I'm not the project head." Annabeth answers slowly.

"So…" Piper looks away again, picking at the toast. "There's no reason to cancel Friday night, right?"

Annabeth purses her lips. She sets her cup on the saucer and folds her arms together, "I already said I would go."

Piper blushes crimson and gives up the innocent, interested-in-friend's-work scheme, "I just want to make sure!"

"I'm going, okay?" Annabeth huffs in mild exasperation. "And, if I ever go back on my promise, you have the permission to drag my ass over to the club."

"Deal," Piper quickly agrees. "Do we seal this oath with blood?"

Annabeth shakes her head as Piper starts laughing.

Piper is weird but a wonder. Annabeth is ever so thankful for having Piper as a friend. They have been friends since the 10th grade when the Cherokee girl transferred to Goode. They didn't particularly become friends instantaneously because she came around the school as Drew's half-sister.

Drew wasn't exactly Annabeth's favorite person on campus. She was a cheerleader who penned herself as the queen of Goode High, dated around, and clung to different guys when her grade couldn't even hang on to a C minus. And her face, always caked in make-up, always smiled condescendingly at everybody as if they were lesser beings. She made Annabeth want to punch something. Anything. Drew's annoying face would have been good enough.

When rumors scattered about Drew having a half-sister on campus, Annabeth was sure she'd be a clone of Drew, and Goode High was doomed. Frankly, their school had had enough mini-skirt, crop-top, belly-button girls who thought the ground they stepped on was sacred. Another one to add to them and Goode would have crumbled. After all, what else could they expect from somebody blood-related to Drew? Annabeth loathed her guts.

As it turned out, though, her half-sister hated Drew's guts just as much if not more. Literally.

She proved that during P.E. class in a volleyball game when she purposely spiked the ball straight towards Drew's midsection hard enough that Annabeth was surprised why Drew hadn't spewed her entire digestive system all over their gym court. Drew doubled over, wheezing in pain and yelling about how Piper tried to murder her. The teacher had to give Piper detention since the girl didn't deny the accusation and refused to apologize. When they took out Drew, who glowered at her sister the whole way out, Piper smirked at her unapologetically and waved her goodbye by flicking her fingers and blowing her a kiss.

Annabeth wanted to slow clap and pat her in the back for a job well done. She didn't need to anyway because the matching gleam in their eyes spoke enough for both of them. Piper and Annabeth became good friends, bonding over a mutual hatred of Drew. Then Piper started hanging out with Annabeth's group of friends, and the rest is history.

"You've got to be honest, though, Annie. You love it when I come by." She sips from her smoothie. "Because then, you won't have to eat packed mashed potatoes again."

"I love mashed potatoes," Annabeth says defensively, reaching for a toast and slathering it with strawberry jam.

"No, you don't." Piper also eats her toast with avocadoes. She gestures at Annabeth's food. "I hope you like strawberry jam."

"It's okay," Annabeth chews. It's decent enough, she thinks. Strawberry had been her favorite jam when she was younger, but that has changed now.

"I just thought maybe you should try a different flavor. All I ever see you have is blueberry. I figured maybe you miss your old favorite."

"I don't. Blueberry is everything to me."

Piper probably doesn't mean to sting Annabeth when she mutters, "Took you long enough to realize it, though."

But Annabeth is stung. And Piper is correct.

Blueberry is Percy's favorite. She had never appreciated it until Percy was gone from her life. She just one day found herself picking blueberry jam instead of strawberry at the grocery. Because, somehow, it made her feel closer to him. It was a futile act, but it was all she could cling to.

They ate in relative silence for a while before Annabeth remembers the conversation over the phone the previous day. It's time to question Piper about it. "Hey," she waits until Piper is looking at her. "You wanted to tell me something."

Piper's brows scrunch up.

"Yesterday," Annabeth clarifies. "Over the phone?"

Piper draws a blank.

Annabeth elaborates, "We were talking about Friday night, and I said yes to going, and then it's like you hesitated over something?"

Annabeth can tell when the realization hits. Piper's eyes widen a fraction. "Oh,"

Annabeth stares expectantly.

Piper looks down, breaking their eye contact, "It was nothing," she says with a small voice.

"You're lying."

Piper doesn't deny the accusation, but her eyes remain downcast.

"Piper, what are you keeping from me?" Annabeth asks, feeling that the playful air around them has been replaced by tension yet again. Piper bites her lower lip, only spurring Annabeth's curiosity. "Piper,"

"Annie, I'm sorry." Piper whispers. She raises her head to look at Annabeth with wide, desperate eyes.

"I can't accept your apology if I don't know what it is for," Annabeth's gaze doesn't leave Piper's. They look at each other - Annabeth urging and Piper trembling.

Finally, Piper sighs in defeat and quietly utters. "It's Percy."

Silence immediately follows Piper's statement. Because for the first time in many years, Piper openly mentions Percy's name in her presence.

Annabeth answers, trying to keep her voice level, "What about Percy?"

Piper gnaws at her lower lip, "I've wanted to tell you, but…"

"But?"

Like a dam breaking, Piper begins barraging. "I don't know if I should be the one to tell you this. I mean, yes, of course, I'm your best friend, but I'm his friend too. And after that-that," she wrings her hands. "I mean, he's been gone for so long, and maybe if I tell you, he's just going to disappear again. He never said anything about not telling you, but I - or, or maybe you're going to disappear this time and I - we can't have any of that, you know? Especially not now. So I decided to wait for the right time, but I don't know if there's ever a right time for anything, really-and, and,"

Piper is talking so fast that Annabeth struggles to catch up. "Piper, you're rambling."

"I know!" Piper whines in frustration. "And I hate to be turned into a blubbering fool, but I… but I want you to know that I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want either of you running away in different directions when the wedding's in a week!"

Annabeth grabs Piper's swinging arms. "Piper," she snaps to get her friend's attention and stop her from ranting anymore. "If you would just tell me-"

"He's in New York!"

It makes Annabeth pause. Well, she knows that. But the possibility that Piper knows about it didn't cross her mind. Percy had mentioned being back in town for a few days now, but Piper could not have known that, right? If Piper did, she would have told Annabeth right away because if anybody knows about Annabeth's broken heart pining after Percy all these years, it's Piper. She would've said something.

But Piper is in her kitchen with a guilt-stricken face. "How long have you known?"

Piper blinks, confused. "You don't sound surprised. Do you know he's back?"

Annabeth nods, "Only yesterday. We saw each other at Starbucks."

"Oh,"

"Piper, how long have you known that he's here?" Annabeth repeats her question, impatient to hear that Piper only actually found out the same day Annabeth did.

But Piper grimaces, hunching in her seat to make herself small. "Since he told Jason that he was coming home," she finally admits. She draws a shaky breath, hanging her head in guilt.

Something inside Annabeth collapses. She leans back in her seat in disbelief, "You all knew?"

Piper quickly shakes her head, "No, not all of us. Only Jason, Grover, and I." Annabeth almost sag in relief to know that she isn't the only one left in the dark about this. "None of us has seen Percy yet, though. He's been busy with the transfer of work location and settling in again. That's also why Friday night is important. He'd be there. For the first time in a long while, we'd be complete."

Annabeth is silent for a period, then nods weakly.

"Do you hate me?" Piper's voice hitches, and when Annabeth turns to her, her eyes are already brimming with tears.

She hates when Piper cries. God, it isn't even her fault that she knows. It isn't her fault that Percy told Jason and Grover, his best friends, and it isn't her fault that Jason told her. Annabeth knows Piper would rather not know. But now that she does, it's not her fault she wants to protect both Annabeth and Percy from each other. Not after what happened years ago between them.

Annabeth stands up and walks over to her friend, who is just about ready to explode. As soon as she opens her arms for Piper, her friend immediately melts into soft sobs. "I'm sorry, Annabeth. I didn't want to lie, but…" her voice catches again, and Annabeth rubs her back to soothe her. Piper must have felt bad about keeping the secret from her, knowing how important it is for Annabeth.

"I don't hate you, Piper. I can never hate you."

Piper sniffles, "I lied to you,"

"You kept a secret." Annabeth corrects. "That's hardly lying. And you did it for a good reason."

Piper pulls away from the hug to look at Annabeth, her eyes still misty from crying. "Thank you, Annie."

Despite herself, Annabeth smirks. "But you owe me a week of coffee and breakfast for this."

Piper laughs, and the heavy atmosphere around them dissipates completely.

/./ curt /./

#percabeth #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy x annabeth #perachel #rachel elizabeth dare #piper mclean #...but if we loved again I swear I'd love you right #I finally edited chapter 3 wahh!!!!#after 500 years. hope it doesn't take me another 600 to edit the next one #fics tag #this is for the people still reading and waiting for this fic :((( i love you guys #word count: 3352

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strange-changes-ln · 3 years ago

Text

“Strange Changes.”

Chapter Three: “Late At Night.”

Pacing. Holding his head, his mind racing. This is- this is IMPOSSIBLE. He has to be dreaming, he- he COULDN’T SEE after the incident, they- they RIPPED his eyes out! How was this happening-??

He had abruptly shut the television off and exited the room as fast as possible. Left the poor kid hanging.

That- That doesn’t matter. He kept trying methods to try and wake himself up. C’mon, Roger, stop dreaming! That- that kid might’ve been apart of this dream too…

Wake up.

WAKE UP.

You AREN’T able- or even supposed to see, this isn’t real! This is NOT REAL. Snap out of it, you-

He swerves into a bookshelf, unconsciously. Books, small items fell from the wooden holders. He backed away, blinking. He immediately went to the other side, and started to pick up all of the things that had fallen. He…paused to eye a book. It was…he can’t remember what it was about. It was dusty. A maroon, hard-covered, dusty book. Before- carefully settling it back with everything else. He rubs his eyes, what- what’s going ON..

..Is- Is this not a dream?? Is- this actually happening..? He can…he can see…

..He quietly laughed, smiling a tiny bit. Despite the immense confusion, he was… he missed this for so long…

aH- NO. No. He shook his head, that tiny bit of bliss snapping away. This isn’t logical, this isn’t normal- then again…nothing is- b-but THIS-

His chest expanded, and shrank back as he breathed at a quick pace. He turned to exit the room, his thoughts still spiraling along in his mind. Okay- this isn’t a dream, this isn’t a dream.

This…isn’t… a dream.

…

He- won’t focus on that for now. Despite it being both a miracle, and a bug in nature, he’ll just- try and remember what he had to. Think..

He could go check on the children. Yeah.. that’ll work.

. . .

Shoot. He’s getting the feeling he’s being watched again. Just- Just ignore it, Roger. It’s fine. It’s nothing. It’s fine. It’s alright. You’re being paranoid.

. . . He- hopes so at least.

It had been at least half an hour, and he STILL felt as if he was being- WATCHED. He kept looking around, actually trying to see what could possibly have been watching him, but there was nothing. It wasn’t as weird when he was around the kids, as they kind of eyed him once he had taken a bit of care of them- but even THEN, the feeling wouldn’t go away. He turned around, nothing. How long was this going keep up? It couldn’t keep going forever.

. . .

That’s what he thought until another few hours past, and he still, felt it. It’s getting darker, and darker by now. He- still needs to get things done, he still hasn’t- UGH! He audibly groaned into his hands. He’s- he’s just gonna have to wait until tomorrow. God, the boat’s gonna be here soon, and sure he’s- semi prepared, but semi isn’t enough!

..No— no, this can’t wait until tomorrow.

But- sure it can! He can just- get up early, and-

N-No— he has to do it now. At least some of it. It’s the least he can possibly do right now.

But it’s getting late, and he’s gonna need that energy for tomorrow.

..Why is he so torn?? Just pick the sensible option and go with that!

…

He swears, he’s gonna drive himself temporarily mad if he keeps going like this. He huffs, okay. He’ll come to a compromise with himself; he’ll send a few packages up where he needed to take them, and…and the rest can wait for another day.

..Yeah. That sits with him well. He remembers he had left those packages in his little living quarters. In the corner. He’ll go get them.

Walking along, rubbing one of his eyes with a hand. He’s- still so bewildered by this- sight. He can see again!

But..But how? It’s not like blind people getting their sight back is a normal thing, especially if they got their own eyes ripped out of their head.

That was… bad. It hurt. It hurt a lot. It’s not like they cared.

…

Actually let’s not think about that anymore!!!

It’s not worth even mentioning at all anyways, heheheh-

Heh…

…

He blanks out. So much so, that his unaware self bumped into his own door on accident. He stumbled back. Ow.

You know what? Whatever, it’s fine. He’s over it. He twists the knob on the door, and pushes it open. Ah yes, his room. His solitude. It’s wonderful. In the far, right corner, he sees-

Aha! The packages. Just where they were. Perfect. He goes over, and takes them into his arms. This is fine.

Totally.

Just leaving out of his room, beginning to head to where he was supposed to take them. Most of them were for the Kitchen, but… there’s one. A small box.

For the Lady.

He doesn’t know what it’s for, but- it was kind of out of nowhere. Nobody knows why it was sent, but…geez, he doesn’t think he should said this one to her right now. Especially when it’s rather dark outside by now.

That’s just- eugh. He doesn’t wanna risk it, but at the same time— maybe to get it out of the way, he can check..?

The thought makes him kind of nervous, but- he might…as well? Hm.

Over time, he went through elevator by elevator, until he made it up to the Kitchen. He begins towards the work-premises of the Chefs, humming the ‘Veronica’ song a bit. Surprisingly— he spotted Marcus. He was still working. Huh. He kind of expected to not see him, but- here they are.

” Hey, uh- Marc. “ Roger waved, squinting just a bit. Having not seen in…a while, the bright light of the Kitchen was…jarring. The chef paused, and turned towards the entering employee. He blinked.

“ ..Roger? What’re you doing here?- “ He stops what he’s doing all together, and approaches the shorter man. He…seems to look confused, upon getting a closer look at him. “ ..Jesus, what happened to your eyes? They’re just- gone. “ He sounded concerned. Wait—oh- uh- he- forgot about that. Uh, shoot.

” ..Uhh… yeah, something, um-uh— happened one time, when I was younger, and- y-y’know how some people are, eheheh- ah- “ He did not like talking about the empty, black sockets he once- and sort of now considers his eyes. “ Some people got together, and uh…d-did a number on me. Now, I- don’t have any eyes, ha! “ Trying to laugh it off as much as it makes him uncomfortable.

Marcus… narrowed his eyes, he didn’t get why he was laughing this off. “ ..Who? “

” ..u-uh…w-what..? “ The awkward toned worker glanced to the side, though it would’ve been hard to tell to someone else, since, he…doesn’t have pupils. Christ, why didn’t he pull the skin back down earlier??? Marcus, just take the damn packages and don’t make me stand here and stumble on my words like an idiot about this.

“ Who did that to you? They sound like jerks. “ The chef interrogated. Roger…simply stammered, why was this a conversation they were having.

“ Ahhh—w-well- it was a long time ago, I-I don’t know even know what they look like right now, I was pretty young.. w-when that happened, heh- uh— just a group of citizens who didn’t enjoy my existence and- uh- a-and decided to take it out on me! B-But it’s nothing, it’s fine, it’s in the past now, we don’t have to keep going on about it, it’s just a waste of time, c-can you just take th-the packages so I can go, this is really taking up the night, and we both gotta-um- get some rest!-Ahahaaha- “

“ Roger, for the love of god, slow down. Jeez, what’s making you so jumpy?? “ Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose.

The Janitor- looked down, at this point, embarrassed.

“ ..Sorry- I- don’t like talking about this stuff, Y’know..? “ Looking to the side, he holds out the packages. “ Just- take these already, okay? I forgot to give them to you before. “

Marcus.. casually took them from his co-worker’s grasp. “ Right. What made you forget, exactly? These were supposed to be sent to me ages ago, man! “ He frowned, glaring at Roger.

” ..fell asleep. Was watching tv. Met— “ He stopped himself at ‘met.’ Nono, he didn’t need to know about Mono. But the Chef had already caught it, and asked-

“ ..Met who? “

…Of course he had to catch it, Roger thought.

” ..nobody. Nobody important. “ This is getting ridiculous, the longer they stand here, the less things get done, and the less things they get done, the less prepared they’ll be when the boat arrives, and if they aren’t all-the-way prepared, something is bound to go wrong, and the Lady’s gonna have their heads.

“ ..Somebody, Roger. Did someone else get into the damn ship somehow? Are they still roaming, did you- “

” I said it was nobody important. “ The Janitor huffed. Eyeing the pile of packages.

“ ..Alright, sheesh. “ Marcus rolled his eyes and started walking away, off to the second intersecting room. The former blind man blanked out for a second, before snapping back into awareness, blinking. Wait. Did he-

He left the smaller package on the pile, oh my god-

“ -Hey- wait up! “ He quickly followed behind. He’s so scattershot right now, it’s unbelievable.

” -What?? You’re halting time here. “ Marcus puffed, turning around and beginning to stare his co-worker down.

“ Wh— “ Roger was going to protest, but he just brushed it off. “ Okay-sure-whatever- I need this. “ Snatching the smaller box from atop the pile. “ ..Uhh.. where’s your brother? “

” Thomas? He’s asleep, I told him I could take over. And.. is that the- “

” Yeah. The package for the Lady. I- I don’t know if I should go now, or wait… “ He still contemplated. He thought he was going to bring it to her tonight but… he’s hesitant. The older Chef sucked a breath through his teeth. Just saying-

“ ..I’m not gonna lie, Roger; you might just wanna wait. “

“ I know, but— maybe I can just get it out of the way real fast. “

“ But do you realize that could probably actually be a bad idea. “

“ I- uh-huh, yeah— I dunno. “

…

There’s an awkward silence for a moment. They both glanced at each other, and at the ground every few seconds. Marcus had his face all scrunched up in thought. Were people outside the Maw really that bad?? He and Thomas don’t even know, or remember what it’s like out there. They’ve only known this place most of their lives. But Roger…definitely seemed to have it a different way than from he and his brother. He’s lived outside before, for more of his life. And.. that happened. The eyeballs-being-gone thing.

Sheesh.

Meanwhile Roger had a point blank expression. He didn’t know what he was even thinking. Everything’s tangled up. Scrambled. There’s not much to say.

” … “

“ ..should I go send it up now, or.. “

“ —Ugh. You do what you want, I guess. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. “ Marcus once again rolled his eyes.

Mhm. Right. Roger scooted around him, and head off. Is he seriously doing this? Should he turn around?? He’s already going forward. But he’s not too far, he just left! He can just-

..Y’know what? No. He’s- he’s just gonna do it. Get it done, out of the way, never gonna do again. Possibly.

…He’s curious, anyways.

#ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #roger the janitor #little nightmares oc #little nightmares chefs #little nightmares #Strange Changes

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neurodecadence · 3 years ago

Note

Sorry in advance bc I don't think I've subjected you to this before but Do The Prime Numbers

the only apology I need is for making me remember maths

2 (cause one doesn't count as a prime, right? I never got why though) "what's your favorite horror subgenre?" I love found footage. I know it's cliched and dumb, all that jazz, but I love the whole cinema verite (to sound pretentious) vibes of the whole thing. I know it's fake, I know the undead didn't kill a whole town in southern texas, I know a monster didn't destroy new york, I know there's not an asylum in toronto haunted by the ghosts of patients subjected to satanic abuse (actually considering the history of asylums, you never know on that one) but it FEELS real, like I'm seeing something I'm not supposed to. The low budget only amplifies the joy for me.

3 "you're planning a horror movie marathon with your friends - which movies are you picking?" Grave Encounters (love the genius locii/house of leaves stuff going on there), Halloween (classic), Southbound (great anthology horror, highly recommend), and capping it off with Evidence, so we can all go to bed going "what the FUCK did you just put in front of me"

4 "you can go back in time and watch a horror movie of your choice on its premiere - which movie are you going to see?" Alien, the first one. I'd kill to be there for the chestburster scene for the FIRST TIME EVER, it's not even a question

5 "if you were a character in a horror movie, what kind of movie would it be? what kind of character would you be? what would be your fate?" It's a found footage, and I'm the camera holder's best pal and genre savvy, funny sidekick. I make it through most of the movie, my jokes breaking the tension (even if I do get yelled at in an important character building scene for making light of the situation, where I break down and explain it's cause I'm frightened too). Late in the film it's just me, the camera holder, and their love interest, a chance to escape appears, but the threat is just behind us; someone is going to have to make a final stand to let the others go. The main character say's they'll do it, but I stop them and tell them I won't let them, they need to get out of here. My final lines are "You know me, this is always how I've wanted to go out, keeping my best friend safe and looking like a total badass" As they flee the camera is turned back, showing flashes of light, banging, and me yelling cliches and one liners at the monsters I beat back, until a strangled cry, and then nothing.

7 "answer for real life vs if you were a slasher movie character: a murder has occurred. somebody you knew, though only in passing, got knifed by some psycho killer and the whole town is in shock. the school fool has taken it upon themselves to throw a party in the midst of all of this, "to celebrate life", as they say. - you get an invitation but are you going to the party?"

Fuuuuuuck no, and not just cause I'm not a party kind of gal in the first place (well, maybe a chill drinks and background music kinda shindig). I'm also encouraging people I know to not go, cause it's genuinely pretty disrespectful, might invite some friends so we can share any memories we have and share a quiet evening. In real life, that's about where it ends, probably. In a slasher, we probably get knifed BEFORE the big party, one of us makes it out, runs to the party covered in blood yelling about the killer, causing a panic that only makes things worse when the stabbing starts. You just can't win when you got a Jason type bastard on the loose, can you?

11 "answer for real life vs if you were a slasher movie character: you escaped the killer but your friends are still stuck on their hunting ground, hiding and running for their lives. do you go back for them?"

Hell yeah I do! I'm running that cunt down with my car (which would probably be a prius everyone else made fun of earlier, making it more dramatically and comedically satisfying). IRL, the killer is now pavement jam. In a film, we might have a problem.

13 "you're offered the chance to privately talk to a horror villain of your choice, currently kept secure in a government facility. your safety during the encounter is guaranteed. do you take the offer? and if you do, who do you pick? why?"

No, I can't think of any that could tell me anything I'm, like, desperate to know. Anything worth that effort. Maybe Pinhead, to ask about the cosmology of the world, but he'd probably say some shit that made me go mad and, like, die horribly. Also I don't think I'm smart enough to "get" it.

17 "would you rather have chucky try and transfer his soul into your body or have the sawyer family try and put you on their dinner table?"

Sawyers. You never win VS that bastard doll, but leatherface is still human. Barely, but still.

19 "the asker gets to make up a would-you-rather question of their own."

Apparently the question was "do you wanna see if you can remember the primes, or ignore it and not risk embarrassing yourself" The answer is that I have very little pride or shame left, and I like answering questions too much to ignore it c:

23 "what are some things that give you the total creeps? places, items, even certain times that you try to avoid whenever possible?"

So, okay, it's well known that I'm a brainweird bitch (read: legitimately mentally ill, but trying to be cool about it), but also sometimes I just... See shit. I know logically it's probably visual hallucinations, or memory problems, pareidolia, or a sensible explanation for deja vu. BUT There is SOME shit I have seen that I can't ignore. Houses that don't make sense no matter how I look at them, the moonwatcher, catghosts, and that one thing I will not talk about because I just know in the back of my skull that it doesn't like being noticed. A lot of these are benevolent, or just not paying attention (the catghosts in particular are very chill, if a little bothersome some days), but there are some I will go out of my way to avoid or ignore. Maybe I'm being silly, hell, almost definitely, but I don't care. I don't want to poke at things I don't understand, only to find out it was a sleeping bear.

29 "29. are you dressing up this halloween?"

Shit I don't know if I'll get the chance. If I do.... Oh! I got it! I'm gonna go as my own corpse, being wheeled around in my wheelchair by my pal dressed as an evil spooky nurse! Grim, spooky, kinda funny when I stop playing dead and perk up to go "The punch is fantastic, by the way!", AND I get to have gruesome blood and injuries all over- it's perfect!

31 "make a list: halloween preparation shopping list."

Halloween ain't such a big thing down here in Aotearoa, sadly. I like to make a deal of it, but no one else does. Still, candy for handing out, a mix of some cheap bulk mix kids can get a handful of, and some nicer mini candy bars I can hand out one at a time. Costume supplies, fake cobwebs, and some other lil decorations. I'd love to own a house and go all out for it one year, but for now I can be content with the lil paper skeleton I have hanging in my room.

37 "it's halloween! the clock strikes midnight and at the edge of town, a witch is trying to summon you. what items will she need for the spell to work?"

I mean it's halloween, and it's a witch, so she's already mostly done. Aside from that... A plastic skull, A dvd copy of a crappy horror film, a 2 liter of sugar free coke, a crystal bell, and a chunk of rose quartz. AND a smooch- no way am I passing up that chance!

Thank you for all these questions, I had an absolute blast answering these!

#Asks #holy shit this was fun thank you so much

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justasparkwritings · 4 years ago

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Merry & Bright {21}: Santa Baby

Previous: I Could Care Less

youtube

Pairing: OT7

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Swearing!

Summary: Bangtan plays Secret Santa.

“Alright, we have to draw names,” Namjoon says, glancing from member to member.

“Aye, why are we doing this?” Yoongi asks, sipping on his iced coffee.

“It’s fun!” Jimin replies.

“It’s annoying,” Yoongi mutters.

“Well you don’t have to participate, you can get nothing for Christmas,” Seokjin says.

“Everyone write your name on your piece of paper and fold it in half,” Namjoon sits down next to Ho-Seok, who nods, eager to play.

“Are we doing three small gifts or one big gift?” Jimin asks.

“One gift,” Taehyung picks.

“Any words for three gifts?” Namjoon asks.

“Are we doing a price limit?” Jungkook asks.

“No?” Taehyung questions.

“We’re only getting one member a gift, I don’t think we need a limit,” Ho-Seok responds, folding his paper.

“I agree,” Seokjin says.

“Nothing too extravagant,” Yoongi says.

“Whoever Yoongi gets should prepare to be disappointed,” Seokjin says laughing.

“Can we draw?” Namjoon says, gathering all the papers. He takes the hat of Jungkook’s head and drops the little secrets in, scrambling. “Youngest to oldest.”

Jungkook claps his hands together, laughing at the annoyed look on Jin’s face, and Yoongi’s eye roll.

“If you get yourself, put it back,” Yoongi says, “That’s cheating.”

“How?” Taehyung asks as he picks his piece.

“You can buy yourself something any day,” He explains.

“It’s no fun if you pick yourself,” Jimin adds. He quickly picks his paper and opens his paper, smiling instantly.

“Jiminie’s giving it away!” Seokjin yells.

“No I’m not!” Jimin yells.

“You are! That smile!” Jin points his finger at him.

“I’m just happy,” He shrugs.

“Oo!” Ho-Seok says as he reads his name.

“Alright, everyone got a name?” Namjoon asks, sitting down to look at his.

“When are we exchanging?” Yoongi asks.

“After the MAMAs and MMAs, and our performance on KBS world,” Taehyung says.

“When’s the last day we’re together?” Jungkook asks.

“The 23rd?” Yoongi asks.

“I think so,” Jin agrees.

“Okay, the 23rd at the dorms,”

“Dinner?” Seokjin suggests.

“Yes,” They all nod, agreeing.

Without further delay, they moved on to other matters of business and eventually rehearsal for their numerous stages.

Yoongi was the first to find his secret Santa gift, a watch that instantly reminded him of the Namjoon. It was something Namjoon would stare at, making calculated decisions whether to buy it or not. It was a bit extravagant in its platinum face and leather band, the moon phase a touch he knew Namjoon would appreciate. Yoongi had noticed the leader’s affinity for time pieces and was sure this was going to hold a special place in his collection.

Yoongi smugly carried the package to his apartment, hiding it away in a drawer he knew no one, meaning Jimin or any of the Maknae line, would look in. He’d opted for gift wrap, making it nearly impenetrable to their sly fingers.

Namjoon was beyond thrilled when he pulled Ho-Seok’s name from the hat. Shopping for him would be easy, Ho-Seok was excited about all presents, and any amount of thought would go a long way with him. Taking the easy way out with gifts was never Namjoon’s style, and as he sat in his room, writing an email to Bang about what he wanted to do for Ho-Seok, he was happy to know that this thoughtfulness was being put to use. Joon wanted to get Ho-Seok a set of classes with a few different choreographers that were big in Korea and the States. He was constantly pushing himself but finding time to actually meet with a choreographer outside of their usual set was rare. Namjoon knew it would push him out of his comfort zone, and that is exactly what he wanted. That, and a new pair of sneakers for Ho-Seok to dance it, maybe with his nickname on it, in neon…

Ho-Seok knew exactly what to get Taehyung. He’d been planning it for months, hoping that when they pulled Secret Santa names, he could enact his two-part Birthday plan. The first was a stunning Gucci coat that Taehyung had looked at, but never purchased. Its ostentatious green velvet mixed with delicate pink and brow flowers would look striking against his features, and Ho-Seok had diligently watched for his size to come in. Not only had he purchased the coat, but he’d found a seamstress who could make a matching jacket for Yeontan. Not of the same Gucci fabric, but a green velvet that coordinates. Taehyung was going to lose his mind when Ho-Seok gave him the companion on his birthday, as well as a special Vinyl of his first mixtape that he had asked Bang to make.

Taehyung had struck gold. Who was easier to buy for than Jungkook? No one, except maybe Namjoon. The problem with Namjoon was that he had an idea for what he wanted, a level of thoughtfulness that he hoped someone would match. No matter how thoughtful, it wasn’t enough. Jungkook, though, was happy to be included, happy to feel seen, grateful that any of his hyung’s would take the time to spend money on him and take the time to find something thoughtful. Taehyung kept a list of ideas in his phone for each member’s birthdays. September-December were always rough, an ungodly number of performances and stages, and 5 birthdays, his included. It became easier to just keep a list, organized by member, which he could return to for any gift giving holiday. When he had an idea, he jotted it down, as to not forget it. This year, having drawn Jungkook, he was happy that his list of ideas for his only maknae was too long. New work out gear, his favorite Korean books in English to practice his reading skills, beginners guide to cooking, a pair of silk pajamas, a commissioned piece of art that Taehyung knew wasn’t going to be ready in time, and numerous other items. Thinking about Jungkook’s growth in the last few months, Taehyung optioned for the books and a few new pieces of work out clothing. Practical and thoughtful to match Jungkook’s sensibilities.

Jungkook was beyond thrilled to pull Seokjin’s name, simply because he had one too many gifts from Jin’s recent birthday, and he was blessed that he hadn’t had to go out and hunt something down in the midst of their rigid performance and rehearsal schedule. Instead, he re-wrapped the gift, a new set of cooking knives and a fancy cutting board with his initials engraved, in Christmas wrapping and set it under the tree in the dorms. Namjoon had placed labels with their names on them, which said:

To: Jin

From: Secret Santa

He had had them printed at the office, a foolproof way of ensuring no one knew who picked who and left them precut and ready to be placed on the present.

Jungkook’s was the first gift to be placed, making the already pathetically dressed tree look a little less pathetic.

Seokjin spent the next ten days trying to find something perfect for Jimin. What could he possibly purchase for the man who gave some of the most thoughtful gifts? He’d racked his brain for something new, exciting, that Jimin would like. A coat? A bougie sweatshirt? Tickets to an event? What possibly could he find that would appeal to Jimin’s sensibilities? Why hadn’t Namjoon requested everyone make a list? That would’ve been more helpful. A list would give him an idea, a direction to go in… Instead, Seokjin wandered the mall after hours, his team having rented space for him. It was by chance that he stumbled into the bookstore, and pure serendipity that he found a display of coffee table books. Looking through the stack, two books stood out: Revelations about the Alvin Ailey famed piece, and The Art of Movement by Deborah Ory. Jimin was a dancer first and foremost, and Jin was excited by the prospect of his reaction to these presents.

Jimin had paid a little too much attention to Yoongi in the last nine months, not enough that Yoongi had noticed, but enough that Jimin knew the minutes he pulled his name what to get him. A new electric guitar, top of the line. Yoongi had been spending the last year or so learning acoustic, on a fairly new all black, simple, to the point, guitar. No frills, no flares, nothing. While Jimin knew Yoongi loves the guitar, he wondered if a little nudge would help him get into electric guitar. Jimin used his resources to scour the world for a perfect electric, before settling on a small batch, vintage piece from the 1950s. In good condition, strings new, the guitar was breathtaking. Jimin bought a new case for it, lined in crushed black velvet, with Yoongi’s name embossed on the side.

As the 23rd approached and more gifts filtered under the tree, the seven men looked grateful. Grateful that they’d each taken the time to purchase something for one another, grateful that they believed in one another to find something special for them, grateful they believed in themselves and the love they shared.

Next: Golden Days

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ravenwritesstuff · 5 years ago

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Best Laid Plans (10/?)

Fandom: Frozen (modern AU, no magic) Pairings: Helsa, established Kristanna, Rapunzel/Eugene, lotsa frohana Rating: T for now, M later almost for sure A/N: Fun fact about why it takes me so long to write stuff. I write everything out of order. The very first scene I wrote of this fiction is in this chapter.

She cannot help but be wary. She has seen what happens when Hans Westergaard shows what he wants and she is all too familiar with that heat and tension. Her body tightens in anticipation of what he means, and does her best to hide her apprehension behind professionalism.

"While I am sure we all are thrilled with the mystery of your offer, it really is critical that we establish exactly what you want as quickly as we can as our timeline is so limited."

She has never had a client be so withdrawn about their event or purpose before. Most clients could not wait to throw ideas and concepts and colors in her direction or instead all the things they didn’t want. So far she knows he liked the wedding because they danced and that he likes the ocean. She is in no way prepared for an event where that is the center. His lack of forthcoming throws her off balance and makes her irritable. She is not sure if it is just the Hans Westergaard way or if she is actually losing control of the situation. Whatever it is, she does not like it, but she hides her discomfort behind a Mona Lisa smile.

"Of course. Which is why I am going to show it to you as soon as I can. But it will require the wearing of swimsuits and the ability to swim. Are you all up to the occasion?” He is in full showman now, the elegant host, and while she feels more at ease when he is in this space she also likes it less. The conflict leaves her with feelings she promptly ignores and shoves down beneath the mental checklists ticking through her mind.

“Per your vague instructions I believe we are all prepared for a swim,” she looks around at her team to get their confirmation even though she knows they all packed accordingly. “But really we have so much to cover. I think it will be best if we work through a few more steps before we get distracted.”

“Oh this is not a distraction. I promise.” He peers out over the ocean, shielding his eyes to make out something. “We have ten minutes before we need to get suited up so let’s talk until then.” He leans back and sips his coffee. “I would love to hear more from the team personally. Why do you all do what you do? What part of the events you manage is your favorite?”

It is an unconventional question, but what other kind can she expect from Hans Westergaard?

She watches as the team all look at each other with puzzled expressions and she is glad that at least this time she is not the only one befuddled by what Hans Westergaard has to say.

“I mean - I guess my favorite thing is that I get to work with my family.” Anna chimes in first, smiling at Elsa and Kristoff. “We make a great team and I don’t know many families that can say that!” She turns to Rapunzel and Eugene as well. “And I’ve gained new family members I never knew before. So it is a win all around.”

“As someone deeply acquainted with the complications of family - I appreciate that Anna.”

It is strange to hear her sister’s name on his lips, to see him smile at her and smile in return.

Anna nudges Kristoff with her elbow and he grunts before offering:

“I get to work with my hands and make my wife happy. Not much better than that.” He chuckles when Anna throws her arm across his stomach and side hugs him. “Plus there is something awesome when a client sees you build the thing they wanted just like they wanted. Makes you feel like Santa or something.”

“The tables and altar at Eric’s weddings were incredible. You made those?”

Kristoff tilts his head, not one to enjoy outright praise, and then nods.

Hans returns his nod with a smile. “Excellent work. Truly. I have ideas for you.”

Elsa sees an opportunity and cuts in: “We would love to hear more about those ideas so we can really talk them over and -”

“Hold on,” Mister Westergaard holds up his hand and focuses on the petite brunette across from him. “What is your favorite part of planning events?”

“Oh. I love weddings and I know you aren’t planning a wedding, but they are my favorite.” Rapunzel’s eyes widen. “But my favorite part of my favorite weddings is the kiss. You can totally tell who is going to make it and who isn’t by the kiss. When the groom really kisses the bride - or bride kisses the bride - or groom and groom - oh you get it. When they kiss them in the way that you can almost feel it from the back row… yeah. That’s my favorite part because I know we did something to give them their happily ever after.”

Leave it to Rapunzel would say something fantastical. Never mind that it has absolutely nothing to do with her role in the company or what is at the heart of their events, but it is water under the bridge. Elsa sniffs.

“Is everything okay?” It is Mister Westergaard. He is arching his brow in the most annoying fashion because it makes her stomach flutter and her mouth go dry and she screwed up. She drew attention to herself at the worst time possible.

“Don’t mind her.” Rapunzel interjects before Elsa can even force a smile. “It’s just that Elsa has never really been kissed.” She smiles a little too broadly at her boss before looking at Eugene (who is honestly at a loss).

Elsa is flummoxed by the comment and she can practically see the mischief dancing across Rapunzel’s features. She is living for this, needling her like the second younger sister she never had. Anna is hiding laughter behind her strawberry lemonade where Kristoff’s eyes are wider than she has ever seen them.

She cannot even look at Hans Westergaard.

Eugene clears his throat and swoops in while Elsa’s mind sputters at Rapunzel’s brazenness.

“Well to be completely honest I had a bit of a rough start. I didn’t exactly use my super negotiation skills for good, but Elsa gave me an opportunity to do what I do in a productive way and that is what I enjoy the most. I like knowing I can con a deal for my client,” it is a joke and they all force a laugh. “Plus I like parties.”

Even Hans Westergaard manages a smirking chuckle without all of Eugene’s history. Chances are he has files on all them from some sort of private detective or something invasive like that anyway. There is no need for elaboration.

“So what about you, Hans?” Anna says, sipping her drink, deflecting from what was to inevitably be Elsa’s turn to share. “Why E&A Events? What do we bring to the table that you want for your event?”

Elsa could hug her sister for the segway.

Anything to focus past the horrendous mess Rapunzel insisted on introducing and keep Elsa from having to answer Hans’ time wasting question.

Hans looks at them all and smiles. It is wide and easy, like he has never had any other job besides smiling at them and his response makes her boil. She hates his smile, his calm, that he had somehow gotten her on this ship where her insides are being flipped and churned and turned upside down.

“I want you because you are unexpected,” he says matter-of-factly. “You aren’t what I thought I would want but somehow you are exactly, wholly, and perfectly what I need right now.”

Elsa does not need to look up from her tablet to know he is speaking directly to her. She can feel his gaze as sure as she can feel the hammering pulse in her throat. It takes her best efforts to take rein of her stampeding thoughts and draw a deep breath.

“That is very nice of you to say Mister Westergaard,” she pretends to be very busy taking notes on her tablet. “We are excited to dive into the particulars about why you chose us but right now I think the question we all have is just what exactly we are endeavoring to initiate.”

He nods and looks again at the horizon just as the ship’s pace slows dramatically. His smile spreads. He looks back at them.

“You’re about to find out. It is time to suit up.”

….

Elsa put on her incredibly conservative one piece in the stark privacy of a marble and gold bathroom. The couples were given other rooms and while she knows the lighting is not flattering all she can do is look at flaws in the mirror. The suit had been specifically chosen because it did not show any of her scars. The navy suit had no cut outs, barely scooped below her collarbones and shoulder blades. The suit is made out the same fabric that swim athletes use. It compresses every inch it encases but it covers everything and is not flashy in the slightest.

She had told Anna and Rapunzel to leave the bikinis at home.

She hopes they had or else her suit is going to look impossibly old fashioned.

She turns sidewise in the mirror and sucks in. She is not certain why. Her shape is her shape. There is little much she can do about that now. Her swim wrap is her saving grace. It looks much like any of the other dresses she might wear throughout the week though is slightly sheer. The almost black is burned out with floral patterns and wraps at the waist with a feminine sensibility she normally eschews, but she had nothing else that would serve on such short notice.

She looks at herself once more, feels her bare feet on the cool tile and breathes. This is fine. She is simply winning over a client that her company needs to impress. That is all.

She presses her hands against her stomach and breathes.

She does not tell herself it will be okay. She has not done that in years. Instead she tells herself it will all be managed. It will happen and she will handle it, whatever it is. This is a test and she intends on passing it.

There are risk to swimming with her condition, but she knows her team has her back. They will watch her. It will be okay.

She tosses her braid over her shoulder, makes sure her personal items and stacked tidily in the corner, forces herself out of the bathroom.

The rest of them are already waiting on the aft desk. She hopes she hadn’t taken too long, not wanting to raise suspicion by her lengthy change. She assesses everyone’s dress as she approaches. The expression of personalities under the instruction of ‘dress appropriately’ is not lost on her with Anna’s tankini beneath a loosely tied robe, Kristoff’s rash guard and the longest possible swimmers available. Eugene trends towards more fashionable Bermuda cuts and Rapunzel’s suit is a one piece that hardly qualifies with all of the crazy cut outs. That leaves Hans Westergaard who stands in shorts similar to Eugene’s and a plain white t-shirt that is too tight to be decent.

She tries to not notice the shape of his calves, the size and shape of his feet, but it is a lost cause. Her rebellious mind grabs onto these facts before she can convince it not to. He smiles as he sees her and it is the same earth shattering power that leaves her shaky and uncertain where the rest of the world went.

“Shall we?” he says to the group before leading them out of the shaded part of the deck out into the bright sun.

She squints and pulls her sunglasses down over her eyes as he leads them out past the infinity pool. There are wide steps beyond it railed with stainless steel grips and she clings to them as they descend to what appears to be a small launching platform.. At the base there is a large white space where three crew members wait. They demonstrate general snorkeling protocol that she vaguely remembers from when she was six, before this all began. They offer up equipment. They fit it to them. Then the worst comes.

Every swimmer must have one buddy. Pick your buddy and know you are responsible for them out in the water.

And the lines are so clearly drawn.

She stands fidgeting with her mask and flippers knowing she is now responsible for Hans Westergaard. Anna casts her a knowing glance, but Elsa knows that damage that would be done if she let Anna be her partner. The affront will be obvious, personal, and honestly this is the least of worst case scenarios.

It is just swimming. They won’t have to touch or speak. All she has to do is make sure that Hans Westergaard does not die. Easy peasy.

With a return glance she calms her sister’s concerns. It will be okay. This is okay. She is okay.

Then the crew is distributing sturdy plastic bottles to everyone named with only the words BODY and FACE This time though Mr Westergaard steps up to explain the reasons.

“This is just a little project I’ve been working on - a new line of sunblock. If you don’t mind using this instead of the kind you brought I would love to know what you think.”

Elsa holds both bottles in her hands thinking it is a bit strange, but she would rather have him be strange than charming. She had applied sunblock that morning in her apartment just in case, but the sun is bright and she is not interested in burning.

She opens the bottle labeled BODY and starts with her legs and feet. The scent and feel of a lotion is pleasing. The texture is not oily or rough but actually absorbs into the skin easily. The scent is not overwhelmingly tropical but instead has the essence of eucalyptus. It is refreshing. She hates to admit how much she enjoys it.

They are all standing fairly close together but the couples have sectioned off into their own little bubbles. She and Hans are on the outside, reasonably spaced. Anna has lost her robe as has Rapunzel. She is next and the idea of him seeing her in something so opposite of what she normally wears makes her heart race. What if he was cataloguing her traits the way she inadvertently was his? What if he liked what he saw? What if he didn’t?

She reprimands herself. None of that matters. This is a job just like any other job and she needs to stop losing her mind over things that don’t matter.

Her fingers work the tie at her side, thankful now more than ever that they all were wearing sunglasses. If he did look at her she wouldn’t know. She shrugs and the wrap falls to her elbows and then slips all the way to her hands. She carefully draws it in front of her and folds it neatly before setting it next to her snorkel gear and hopes it is bright enough that no one can tell she is blushing.

She retrieves her sunblock and works her way over all the parts she had missed before until she arrives at the exposed part of her back that she cannot reach. She is struggling to bend her arms to cover stubborn spots between her shoulder blades, head bent down, and a pair of feet comes into her field of vision. She looks up and Hans Westergaard stands there with his sanctioned sunblock in his hand. He looks at her with a smile that is nothing but warm, sincere, and if he wasn’t wearing sunglasses she is sure that his eyes would hold that defenseless, human look that always rattles her..

“Need some help?” He offers. “The back is always the first place to burn.”

Her decline is on the tip of her tongue but she hesitates. She can always just ask Anna for help but how will that look? No matter how infuriating and unsettling this man is he is still her client and she is trying to make a point. She can handle his flirting and still maintain a professional nature.

“Okay.” She gives a stiff nod.

He circles around her and that is worse. She is standing there in a garment that shows every lump, bump, and irregularity. It is not cut for flattery and she should be glad of that at this moment, but she finds herself wishing she has the more daring choices of her counterparts. Or at least something that doesn’t look like she is about to take a water aerobics class at senior citizens center.

No. She mentally reprimands herself. This is for the best. She is here to be professional, and he cannot create ideas about her interest in enticing him in any way when she is wearing the equivalent of a nuns habit in modern swimwear.

She hears him open the bottle, make the necessary squirt, and she waits then for the first touch. It takes longer than expected to come, but when it does her entire body stiffens.

She had expected cold but there is none of that. The lotion and his touch are warm. He spreads the cream over the available skin before he begins the process of massaging it in. She stays perfectly still, not daring to move, and does everything in her power to not consider that he is touching her, she is allowing it, and that the strength of his fingers is enjoyable.

His thumbs trace the fragile wings of her shoulder blades. The slick of the lotion gives his touch a silky glide as his hands work across her skin, tracing the delicate bulbs of her spine. He comes up to where her braid hangs across her neck and pushes it to the side before she can stop him.

She knows exactly when he sees it. She can sense it in his hesitation. The scar creeping from the base of her neck up under her hairline is a wide pink line, made wider and more noticeable with every cut, and is something she hides with low lying hairstyles and high collars but now…

She can practically hear his breath catch at the sight.

His thumbs run in tandem up along the length of her scar in impossible reverence. She is sure that he can feel the rapid rhythm of her heart against his fingertips where they rest on her throat before she pulls away.

“I'm sure that's good. Thank you.” she flips her braids back over her neck in an attempt to not rub the spot his thumbs had branded and looks at him with a dare to ask her.

It would be a relief in so many ways if he would just ask. If she could just tell him and scare him away before they get any further in this unnamed dance. Behind his sunglasses it is nearly impossible to tell what his intent is until a smile spreads over his face. Instead of probing he hands her the bottle of sunscreen.

“Return the favor?” It is a question as much as it isn't and she can hardly keep from blushing when he strips off his t-shirt. He winks as he turns his back to her and she recognizes a challenge when she sees one.

But that isn’t all she sees.

Her eyes trace the ropes of his muscles as they bunch and pull as he adjusts his posture to do his own application on the front of his torso. A wide smattering of freckles swaths his broad shoulders in frenetic clusters. Despite his fair complexion there is a tawny glow that speaks of his love of being outdoors.

For a long moment she stands there frozen just staring as he worked his hands down the length of his arms. She watches his hand slip over the enticingly sharp cuts and swells of his shoulder and then down lower. He turns his head a bit to cast a look in her direction with a smirking grin.

“If you need more lotion, just let me know.”

Then he is back to it. His short phrase jerks her out of whatever spell she had been under and now it feels like all eyes are on her. Is her sister watching, is Kristoff? Eugene definitely would be and Rapunzel probably was brokering some sort of wager about what is actually happening and what will happen.

She grits her teeth.

She knows if she looks to see if any of that is true she will not be able to do this, which is exactly why she doesn’t. She’s spent the better part of today convincing everyone that this is nothing more than a harmless flirtation and that she can handle it. Running away screaming because he needs help applying sunscreen is not going to do much for her case, but she knows she is going to hear about this later.

So she might as well put on a show.

She grabs a nearby bottle and squares her shoulders. The cap opens with a snap. She focuses on each motion as she squirts a generous amount into the palm of her opposite hand. It is too much, she knows, but it is the only shield she has. She rubs her hands together to coat them thoroughly and then, before she can lose her nerve, reaches out to touch.

Even with the thick creamy coat of sunblock she can feel the heat of him rising to her touch. The broad lines of his back are long with foreign trenches and cords of muscle telling their story of use. His body is not exaggerated in size like her brother-in-law’s, but it is well formed, athletically cut. There is a kind of feline grace about him and the way he moves, the way his calculating eyes watch her move in this game she can hardly remember starting.

She is more rough than she needs to be, pressing hard enough that she feels him brace. She does not take the care he did to make sure that every inch of skin is absolutely slathered and rubbed in. She works from the center of his back up over his shoulder blades and then down close to the line of his swim trunks.

She stares at her own hands moving across his skin and she tries to think of anything but the idea that she is just inches away from dangerous territory. As if this entire exercise isn’t dangerous territory. She lets out a breath she did not know she was holding and steps away.

"There. All set." She holds her hands down at her sides, palms still tingling with his heat.

He turns and faces her.

"So," he sets his sunscreen on the deck and straightens. "Snorkel buddies? What do you say?"

She has to respect that he is actually asking instead of just assuming. It gives her the opportunity to negotiate.

"We could always triple up. No sense in creating a superfluous twosome."

"There is no possible way that any group you are a part of could be superfluous," he grins. "But it's statistically safer in pairs. Trust me one we get out there you will have so much to see that I promise you will be glad you only have to keep track of one other person."

She is not going to ask for his source on those stats, but instead she asks: “What exactly are we going to look at?”

She had not thought it possible, but his smile grew three sizes at her question.

“My initiative,” he pulls off his sunglasses, puts them off to the side, and fits his mask over the top of his head. “Ready to see?”

She looks over to the others and they all have their gear ready to go and are watching them. How long had they been watching them? She looks back at Hans and nods.

He leads them to the edge of the platform. It is a few feet above the water with a plastic and metal ladder on the side. Hans sits, pulls his flippers onto his dangling feet, and then slides off into the blue water. He pops up only an instant later and swims back a few feet to look up at them.

“Water’s great!” He treads, powerful shoulder muscles rolling. “Come on in.”

They all follow suit. Elsa is the last to slip from the safe edge of the boat into the water below. It is cold, not freezing, but definitely not bathtub water. The temperature is jarring at first. Her body cramps and hesitates as she stays submerged, but she manages to kick to the surface. She pops up on a sputtering gasp, reorients herself, and swims to the others.

“We’re swimming to that buoy over there.” He points to a yellow speck a few hundred yards away. I recommend using one of these to help with the swim.” He raises his arm out of the water and gestures. Several life preserver belts fly over the edge from a helpful crew member and they all grab one. “Also once we are out there it is a strict look but don’t touch policy. Ready?”

“When will we know we are seeing what we are supposed to be seeing?” Rapunzel asks, her intrepid curiosity shining through.

“I have a feeling you will know.” He smiles and pulls his mask over his eyes. “Follow me!”

[ previous ]

#Best Laid Plans #Helsa #IceBurns #Kristanna #Eugene x Rapunzel #AU #Fanfiction #Raven Writes Stuff

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slashers-hell · 5 years ago

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PLEASE, Billy whose SO gained quite a bit of weight from school stress + a few nasty people bullying her. She loves Billy but thinks that he finds her repulsive so she wears baggy clothes and stops being as affectionate with him. Then one night he climbs into her room and she flinches when he puts his hands on her waist. He asks what's going on and she cries telling him everything. By the end, he goes: "You think I don't find you hot? Let me prove you wrong." Smuttiness and fluff ensue

I wasn’t very motivated because my mind is focused on other stories. I am not satisfied with the outcome, and I couldn’t put much more energy into this. I hope you like it. I’m really sorry. :(

Note: Slight dysphoria, body image issues and so forth.

The Sweetest Summer

Billy Loomis x female!reader (NSFW)

You couldn’t bear the pressure anymore. Why couldn’t you be like the other girls? Why were you the one your classmates had to pick on? You had been oblivious to your recent weight gain. Though one day, when you walked past a mirror in the shopping mall, you realised that the person that was looking back at you was, in fact, yourself. Not a stranger with slightly more meat on them—no, it was you.

You were lying in your bed as these thoughts crossed your mind, tears trickling down your face. And you couldn’t help but repeatedly ask yourself if Billy was still attracted to you. After all, you were a lot thinner when you both became an item. Not to mention that you were confident. Billy had fallen in love with your appearance. But most of all, he had fallen in love with the way you carried yourself, often complimenting you for your personality. However, it was radio silent for weeks between you and him; you were trying your best not to hang out with him, given your shame was far too great to look past your issues.

The last few times you had met him, you were doing your best to hide what your body had become. Oversized hoodies and loose shirts were your best friend. With that thought, tears filled your eyes again. You were afraid Billy wouldn’t find you beautiful. Fearing your parents would hear you, you decided to bury your head on top of your pillow, hoping you would eventually fall asleep.

“Ey.”

It was the sound of an unmistakable voice.

You shrieked—the surprise evident on your face—and turned into the direction of where the sound was coming from. Billy was casually lying against the half-open windowpane; his expression didn’t allow you to read his emotional state. Instinctively, you pulled your blanket over your body in fear he would notice how you had changed.

“Hey, Billy…” you replied to him half-heartedly.

“Are you gonna stop ignoring me now? I’m sick and tired of this bullshit. Just tell me what’s going on.” Billy’s anger was palpable.

“Look… I… I am busy, okay? It’s not exactly easy to study for my exams.” You hoped he would buy into your white lies.

“Liar.” Too late. “You finished your exams a month ago,” he continued. Since then, he had worked his way up to your bed, putting his hand on your waist. You flinched. “What’s wrong, babe?”

His dreamy eyes were hypnotising; the intensity of his stare brought the hairs on your neck to stand up high. And the fact you were able to smell him didn’t help the situation either. It was as if he could seduce you with his presence alone.

“Fine,” you resigned. “I’ll tell you everything.” And you gave in, explaining to him every little detail. From how you felt incredibly insecure since you couldn’t wear your favourite clothes anymore to your rude classmates. Billy listened to you from beginning to end without uttering a single word.

“Is that the reason you’ve been avoiding me?” He sounded baffled.

And you felt stupid. “Billy…”

“You think I don’t find you hot? Let me prove you wrong.”

You nearly jumped up when his hand found itself between your thighs. Although you were plagued with insecurities, you couldn’t help yourself but moan at his soft touch. The way he moved his fingers between your legs was one you weren’t prepared for. His eyes were fixated on yours whilst he quickly pushed your panties away to have free reign over your wet entrance. Deeper and deeper, he worked his way up inside your walls that were aching in arousal around his fingers. At first, he was slow and passionate, then his movements grew impatient. Gently, he removed his fingers and skilfully began to encircle your clit. Every time you thought he would touch the sensible place that made you see stars---and every time he refrained himself from doing such. You wanted to yell, to beg for it. But when he finally moved his finger in an upwards motion over your sweet spot, you couldn’t hold it back.

You unashamedly came in front of him, clenching your thighs together.

Billy understood and licked gleefully over his fingers to taste you. He leaned over you; your legs were spread apart in a lascivious manner. Only the pallid light of the moon gave glimpses of what had happened between you and him.

Now that you were with Billy, you had experienced the sweetest summer of your life.

#billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #scream #slashers x reader #slashers #anon

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rubensmmaia · 4 years ago

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Top 10 Refurbishing Tips

Now is as a good time as any to reflect and pass on some ideas for all you prospective renovators that want to tackle home renovations yourself.

1. Start with the end in mind

What I suggest is in you're renovating to offer vs remodeling to put an occupant into the home at a higher lease than before vs refurbishing for yourself to reside in, the budget plan, option of fixtures and fittings and the amount of work you'll do will differ.

In the event where you're remodeling on your own to reside in you'll likely do a lot more than either of the two other options, merely because you plan to live there and derive the take advantage of the money invested for a period of time.

Likewise, when remodeling for sale and even for rental functions, you require to remember continuously, am I adding more in perceived worth than actual cost? Am I getting a return on my money? Knowing where to draw the line is the key.

2. Have a budget plan

Do not simply start refurbishing with no budget in mind. You require to have a concept of just how much whatever is going to cost and track your expense through the restoration to make sure you don't run out of cash.

It may be OKAY to leave a restoration unfinished if you're living there (albeit not preferable) however if you're refurbishing for sale or to put a renter in, you need to finish to be able to sell/rent the property out. Running out of cash half way through doing the kitchen area or restroom is a foolproof way to land yourself in problem.

3. How are you funding the restoration?

If you have the money on hand that's excellent, not a great deal of us do however if you do it's the easiest and easiest method to money any restoration, you know just how much you have and can pay for materials and labour as required.

If you're using borrowed funds, make certain you understand the requirements for those funds to be released, if it's a loan against equity it may be as basic as the funds entering into a balanced out account until you require them. If it's a devoted renovation loan you might need to supply or pay billings and to be reviewed by the bank prior to earning money. There are a lot of different ways this can be work and you need to make certain you comprehend what is needed to access the funds.

4. Quotes

If the job is a little task requiring not a lot of time from a tradie, if they have to come to the website, quote it then come back and do the task you could end up paying more. Typically for these smaller tasks the finest course of action is to find a reputable tradesperson in your local location and simply book the work in to be done.

5. Tiling in old homes

Almost without exception in older houses the walls and/or floors (especially if lumber) are seldom square or straight. In the kitchen area for instance using bigger format tiles for the splash back can assist hide these sins.

If a brand-new kitchen area is installed it will be installed level and if the window is out by 10mm one end to the other, if you utilize 100mm train tiles for a splashback, you'll notice. If you upsize to a modern-day 300mm x 400mm splashback tile you won't see the 10mm the old window is out of square (well many of us won't).

Old floors are frequently out. The renovation I simply finished for a client, the floor in the kitchen was out by 67mm across the length of a 4m kitchen. We had the ability to handle this by tailoring the kicker height along the kitchen but it pays to be familiar with these items and prepare for them.

6. Replace vs Repair work

When preparing a remodelling especially one that consists of the cooking area and bathroom one of the first things you must do is assess the cabinetry and tiles. This could save you thousands in the expense of your remodelling.

7. Electrical Work

It can be an excellent idea, especially on older homes to have an electrical contractor come and take a look at the existing board. Electrical legislation is altering all the time and depending when the last electrical work was done and what you need done a complete board upgrade to bring it up to code might be required. This can be costly. Likewise legislation needing security switches is in location currently in some states and coming into force in others, best to consult a qualified electrician to learn what you need to do with compliance.

8. Plumbing Work

While all brand-new houses are nearly specifically PVC plumbing nowadays if you're refurbishing an old house be prepared to discover some earthenware waste pipes that in some cases the plumber will need to make up a fitting to adapt to contemporary PVC drain.

It likewise pays to be mindful with demolition work around old pipes components as it's very easy to damage earthenware pipes and if they crack and being leaking you might find yourself in for a much larger repair work than expected.

9. Planning the Work

As soon as you have the scope of your renovation worked out, know the spending plan and what trades are involved the next action is to arrange it. You require to think about the sensible order of doing things so that you're not re-doing work or having trades harm the work of other trades.

Normally you want to do demolition work initially, then any brand-new construction, i.e. walls, cabinetry etc although some trades like plumbings and electrical contractors will likely have several check outs to the job for rough in work when it's appropriate, prior to sheeting brand-new work and to prepare pipes points for kitchen cabinetry.

It's best if you can leave completing trades like tilers, painting and flooring till the very end. Sometimes you might have the ability to have the painter start somewhere else in the home if there are area's not having a totally restoration.

Always leave floor covering to the very end, it needs to be the last thing to go in so that brand-new floor covering doesn't have an opportunity to be damaged by trades or to get paint on it.

10. Review the Remodelling

Probably the most ignored stage of a renovation however it's equally as essential as the rest. You need to understand how much everything in fact cost you in order to be able to determine your return.

Do not avoid this step, even if you believe you understand the answer, or you don't would like to know the answer because you know you went over. Still do it, as it will assist you plan the next one much better by seeing the location's your budget discussed.

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duhragonball · 5 years ago

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Dragon Ball Z 272

Last time, Majin Buu turned Vegito into candy, which means there’s no one left to fight him..... except Krillin and Yamcha. See, King Kai had the same idea as King Yemma with Vegeta, and the Elder Kai had with Goku. Except all King Kai has is Krillin and Yamcha, and no magic power-up items to let them use. You’d think he would at least try to contact the Elder Kai and score some more Potara earrings.

Failing that, what is Krillin supposed to do that he didn’t already try the first time he fought Buu? That fight lasted like two seconds.

Hell, Yamcha didn’t even get to fight. He got hit with the candy beam while trying to find cover. Now that he’s dead, he just wants to chill out and train, and take a relaxing shower after his workout.

As far as he’s concerned, life on the Grand Kai Planet is better than Earth anyway, so why bother fighting Buu? His only complaint is that there’s no hot chicks on this planet, which irritates me. There’s no girl warriors who got the honor of keeping their body to train on the Grand Kai Planet? That’s not even true, because we saw a few in the crowd at the Otherworld Tournament. Maybe none of them are Yamcha’s type.

Anyway, don’t count Vegito out just yet, because Buu seems to be having a little trouble following through on his plan to eat the guy.

Yeah, turns out VEGITO CAN STILL FIGHT IN CANDY FORM. He can talk too, which is pretty messed up.

Everyone watching is like “Whaaaaa?“

Buu isn’t convinced that this is a problem. Even if Vegito has all his original power, he can still eat the guy.

Only, no, he can’t. Turns out fighting Candy Vegito is like trying to swat a fly with all the powers of Vegito. Buu can’t even catch the guy, while Vegito can zip around in any direction and slam into him like a bullet.

When Buu can’t grab hold of the thing, he can’t actually do anything to him, because Vegito’s strong enough to keep moving in spite of being in Buu’s grip. You know, he should have just lured Vegito underwater, and hoped that the sea would dissolve him. Then again, maybe that would turn Vegito into an ocean, and he’d be able to kick Buu’s ass even harder that way.

At one point, Vegito even flies straight into Buu’s mouth and shoots out the other side, shearing off his head tentacle again. So even if Buu could get the thing in his mouth, how could he possibly swallow him?

So Buu does the only sensible thing and changes Vegito back to normal. But it’s not like Vegito was any easier to beat this way.

This is the thing that always bugged me about the Candy Beam in the video games. First, it’s only temporary, which I guess is a concession to the game mechanics, but okay. But it seems to me that there should be a thing where if you use it on Vegito, he should damage the user instead. I guess the same should apply to anyone as strong or stronger than Vegito.

Anyway, Vegito does his Happy Dance, while the Elder Kai reaaaaaalllllly wishes Vegito would just hurry up and finish this fight.

Then we get this flashback to when King Yemma got Vegeta to agree to return to Earth to fight Buu. The first time I saw this scene, I was grateful, because they kept talking about it for several episodes, but it seemed kind of convenient. There’s some plot holes to some of these King Yemma scenes we’ve seen, because he probably would have been busy preparing Vegeta for this, but instead he was stressing out over all the paperwork for Buu’s victims.

Anyway, the story isn’t all that complicated, and now that I know what happened, this scene seems a bit gratuitous, but no more so than any other filler.

In a nutshell, King Yemma isn’t supposed to give shady characters like Vegeta their bodies back, but he did it this time because he needs him to go down and help fight Buu. Furthermore, he informs Vegeta that his self-destruct attack on Majin Buu failed, which means his death was meaningless, “no more than a dog’s death”.

Then we have a flashback within a flashback, which is weird, but we probably needed this, since Episode 237 was a while ago.

So this upsets Vegeta and he powers up-- I can’t tell if he’s Super Saiyan with this weird color palette-- but he wrecks the decor in Yemma’s room. Nevertheless, he agrees to cooperate, but Vegeta probably would have done that anyway, so that crack about the “dog’s death” was probably overdoing it.

So this is another plot hole. We’ve seen Yemma’s place a few times during the last thirty episodes, but this is the first time we’ve seen all this damage to the walls. Yemma hopes that King Kai will help him out with the repair bills. Wait, King Kai has money? I doubt he’d share any, since he’s homeless and all.

Back on Earth, Buu still won’t admit he’s outclassed, so Vegito starts really laying into him. Only now, Buu can’t pull himself back together as easily.

And he just keeps hitting him. That really scary music from the OST plays. Let me see if I can find it...

youtube

Okay, so turns out it’s from the Movie 11 score, which you can find on this track from the DBZ Complete BGM album, about 5:03 in.

Anyway, Buu gets totalled here, and when he puts himself back together, he insists that it didn’t hurt....

Except he failed to regenerate the hole in his stomach on the first try.

Vegito is satisfied that Buu’s regeneration powers have reached their limit. From here, even if Buu continues fighting, he’ll just get weaker and weaker until he gives out completely. So he declares that he’ll now put Buu out of his misery.

Buu objects, but Vegito shoves a Spirit Sword through his face. Oh, okay, so that’s why this is his finisher in the video games.

Vegito announces that he’ll give Buu a ten-count before killing him. That’ll give him time to pray or make peace with his demise or whatever. If he wants to die sooner, Vegito invites him to attack him one more time.

So, to follow up on a reply from @mach13elephantexplosion back in Episode 268, I went back and checked, and Buu was indeed counting to five using the “hitotsu, futatsu, mittsu“ Japanese counting system. Vegito, on the other hand, is using “ichi, ni, san...”

In particular, Vegito’s using the word “shi” for 4 and “shichi” for 7. Those were the words I learned a long time ago whenever I learned to count to ten in Japanese, and it always frustrates me whenever I hear actual Japanese speakers use “yon” and “nanna” instead. I mean, it’s their language, they can use it as they please, of course. Really, what annoys me is that wherever I learned the words for Japanese numbers neglected to consider which words are actually used in regular speech. The Japanese avoid “shi” because it’s a homonym for their word for “death”. Same deal with “shichi” for 7, because it has “shi” in it. Apparently “ku” for 9 is a similar issue, because it’s a homonym for “agony”, which I guess is how “kyu” became a thing. But ku and kyu sound similar enough that I can’t pick up the difference.

The point I’m making here is that Vegito ain’t fuckin’ around. “One! Two! Three! DEATH! Five! Six! DEATH-chi! Eight! AGONY! Ten!” This is CZW.

As Vegito counts, Buu realizes that his only chance is to absorb Vegito like he did with the others, but how can he do it without being noticed?

Then he notices the head tentacle, which Vegito lopped off a few minutes ago.

And as he mentally summons it to sneak up on Vegito, we see that this is exactly what Vegito was waiting for. I think it’s safe to say that most of Vegito’s hot-dogging in this fight was for the sole purpose of forcing Buu to use up all of his other options until he had no choice but to try this.

Even so, Vegito seems a bit nervous that his plan may not work.

But the die is cast. As Vegito reaches ten, Buu springs his trap...

And Vegito uses a ki force field to protect himself.

And that’s it. Buu merges with the piece of himself, just like every other absorption, although he never actually changes appearance, like he did with the others. But he’s so happy to be rid of Vegito that he doesn’t notice.

Mr. Satan barely understands what’s happened, while Dende is horrified. With Goku and Vegeta gone, there’s no one left to save the Earth.

An observation shared by the Supreme Kais.

Meanwhile, Buu let’s Vegito know that he’s number one.

#dragon ball #2019dbliveblog #fusion saga #vegito #majin buu #krillin #yamcha #king kai #king yemma #fortuneteller baba #kibitoshin #elder kai #dende #mr satan #vegeta #trunks

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intelligenceagent606 · 5 years ago

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The three times she tried (and failed) to wish Saeran a happy birthday, and the one time she did. (Ray/Saeran × MC)

Author’s note: Reblog! Do not repost!

Happy birthday to my favourite flower prince...

The first time she tried was a few months after she and Saeyoung had rescued Saeran from Mint Eye. Saeyoung had headed out to stock up on some groceries, and she and the younger Choi twin were curled up at opposite ends of the sofa, watching a movie together. Or rather, Saeran was watching the movie while she stared listlessly at the screen, fidgeting with her phone as she debated with herself on whether or not to wish her counterpart a happy birthday. A part of her desperately wanted to break out the party poppers and throw him the birthday party he'd never gotten the chance to experience. But the (slightly) more sensible part of her knew that that wasn't really a good idea yet; after all they had just been through trying to free Saeran from Mint Eye, after all the trauma Saeran had dealt with for his entire life...holding a birthday party just didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. But alas, she was stubborn. She desperately wanted to let Saeran know that even if no one else did, she remembered his birthday. That he was important to her. That she cared about him.

Saeran must have noticed her inner turmoil, despite the fact that he usually remained oblivious to other people's emotions (or at least, if he did notice, he hardly ever responded). When she shot a sideways glance in his direction, she noticed that he was no longer sitting as far away from her as he could. He had shuffled over to sit closer to her. She held her breath as she watched him tentatively reach out and cover her hand with his own.

He did all this nonchalantly while he continued to watch the movie playing on screen with a bored look plastered across his face. But you had to be blind to miss the fact that his cheeks now matched the colour of his crimson locks.

---

The second time she tried, she was taking a walk in the garden with Ray. They had been chatting as they strolled leisurely, Ray taking the time to explain the meaning behind each flower they passed. It was a topic she found interesting too, and usually she'd be all ears...but her heart just wasn't into it today. Her gaze kept slipping from the flower Ray was gesturing at to the dark circles beneath his eyes, his pale complexion making them all the more prominent. Her heart ached for the young game developer. She was worried about him. Other 20 something year olds would be out celebrating their birthdays, while here Ray was -working overtime to get the game completed. She knew that if she questioned him he'd say that he didn't mind, but surely no one wanted to spend their birthday slaving the day away.

"...MC? MC, are you okay?"

She snapped back to reality at the sound of his voice. Judging from the concerned look on his face, she'd clearly been lost in her own thoughts for a while now.

"Are you feeling okay? Is the weather too chilly for you? Do you want my jacket?"

Being the gentleman that he was, he removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders despite her protests that she was fine. Placing a hand on her lower back, he tried to steer her gently towards the direction of the Magenta building. "Come on...let's head back. I'll make you tea and some snacks...how does that sound?"

"W-Wait! Before we go back...I just wanted to...to..."

She trailed off, embarrassed and unsure of how to convey her feelings to him. As she was wracking her brain for what to say, her gaze fell upon the bright blossoms that formed a colourful backdrop behind him. A grin tugged at the corners of her lips as an idea formed in her mind.

She bent down to gather a handful of flowers before offering them to her companion. "Here...these are for you, Ray

Happy birthday."

Ray reached out to receive the flowers with wide eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

Azalea. Take care of yourself for me.

---

Third time's the charm, right? Or at least...that's what they say. When the 11th of June next rolled around, she was locked in her room, waiting for V to free her. The once charming room that Ray had oh so carefully prepared for her had turned into her prison cell, and Ray himself was gone, enslaved by a mysterious drug and the cruel mistress of this awful place.

She perched anxiously on the window seat and fiddled with her phone as she gazed longingly at the garden she'd explored with Ray just a couple of days ago. As her eyes scanned the beds of colourful flowers, she caught sight of a head of familiar white hair. Despite her current predicament, her heart skipped a beat. She knew that Ray was long gone, buried under layers of trauma, but she still couldn't help but long for his soft voice and gentle touch -what she wouldn't give for him to hold her in his arms and tell her that everything would be okay.

"...hello? Why the hell are you calling me?"

It was only when his voice interrupted her thoughts that she realised she'd called him unconsciously. She glanced out the window and spotted him squinting up at her from where he was standing in the garden. When she answers, her voice comes out as a whisper. "...I missed you."

He barks out a laugh. "You don't miss me. You miss that airheaded marshmallow boy. We both know you prefer him over me-"

"I don't prefer anyone over anyone." She interjected. Before he could start an argument with her, she carried on talking. "Ray once told me that you and him were the same person...that he's a part of you, and that you're a part of him.

Saeran, I know you're not particularly fond of Ray...but the both of you are more alike than you think. You're both scared of being hurt again...it's just that you guys deal with that fear differently. You take it out on everyone else, but Ray takes it out on himself."

Saeran had gone completely silent, but she ploughed on despite his lack of a response. "Saeran, I really don't think that you're a bad person. If you'd just let me help you, we could get out of here and-"

"SHUT UP!"

Her phone nearly slipped from her fingers when he suddenly yelled in her ear. She braced herself for him to continue shouting at her, but to her surprise, he simply hung up.

She watched his retreating form from her window seat as he stormed off deeper into the garden. Unable to see his face, she was unaware that his cheeks were streaked with tears.

---

Despite the fact that she wasn't a morning person, she made the effort to wake up earlier than she was usually willing to just so she could prepare breakfast in bed for Saeran. After all, today was a special day. She stood in the kitchen and hummed a pop song quietly under her breath as she rearranged an assortment of items on a tray.

Strawberry pancakes? (Recipe courtesy of Jumin.) Check. Freshly brewed pot of his favourite fruit tea? Check. Birthday card tucked under a small bundle of lily of the valley flowers? Check. Now all that was left to do was to wake up the birthday boy...

Nudging the door open with her foot, she entered their shared bedroom holding the tray. She balanced the tray somewhat precariously on the bedside table and noticed that her boyfriend was beginning to stir.

"...flower?" Saeran groggily pushed himself up into a sitting position with one hand as he used the other to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning, my love." She had to bite back a smile as she settled herself beside him on the edge of the bed. He was adorable when he was half asleep like this. Picking up the tray from the bedside table, she slid it onto his lap. "Happy birthday."

He tried to hide it, but she spotted the way his eyes lit up with happiness. "You remembered."

"Of course I did." she muttered, leaning in to peck him on the lips. "How could I forget? This is the first birthday of yours that we're celebrating together."

Being careful not to upset the tray, he leaned forward to return the kiss. "Thank you, my flower...you've made this the best birthday I've ever had."

#saeran × reader #saeran choi #saeran choi fic #mysme saeran #happy birthday saeran #birthday fic #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme fanfic #mystic messenger birthday fic #@intelligenceagent606 #my writing #reader insert #mysme ray #mysme unknown #mysme saeran choi #mystic messenger

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bluepunkmon · 5 years ago

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Fe Gen Week Prompt #1: Ride

In which Henry and Ricken (by extension) try to tame a very angry pegasus. Rated G, no blood or violence

Friendship, or really, any relationship, with Henry mandated that one become acclimated to a high level of strangeness. Even if the current subject of conversation, item being considered, or activity being suggested didn’t immediately sound strange, the strangeness would come through eventually.

So, when Henry told Ricken he started training to become a Dark Flier, a totally innocuous and sensible thing given the Shepherd’s current campaign, Ricken knew to be on the lookout for something strange. He found it quickly, in the form of Henry’s choice of steed.

“Where did you even get it?” Ricken asked in a voice that held an equal mix of fear and awe.

He and Henry watched from a distance as the army’s pegasi were tethered and given their evening feed. Amongst the familiar faded dappled grey coats and feathers was a new presence; one larger, sharper and darker than the rest. It was a jet-black shape that loomed over the rest of the flock like a storm cloud blown into a calm summer day.

As if it heard him, the large pegasus turned its head to stare at Ricken. He didn’t know pegasi could even have red eyes.

“In the last town.” Henry answered. “Tied up outside without food or water. The owner was going to kill her because she wouldn’t take any riders. I was just going to free her in the middle of the night, but Robin found out and said they’d pay for it so I wouldn’t steal her. Said I had ‘free reign’ to try to tame her.” He smiled at the pun.

The animal did look skinny despite its height, especially beside such honed war animals – though that didn’t lessen the intimidation factor of its glare at all. It ruffled its dark wings and snorted, stomping a hoof.

“So, it doesn’t like people?” Ricken asked.

“Oh, no, not at all. But I think she gets along with other pegasi, and Sumia said she has the right temperament for battle.”

A pegasus knight walked up to the winged horses, water, brush, and rags in hand. The black horse twisted, red eye watching the newcomer. As they got closer, the pegasus grew more tense, and when the knight reached the animal at the end of the row the winged horse reared and shrieked, slicing the air with gigantic black wings and sending the knight stumbling back.

Henry’s smile fell a bit. “Well. As much as she could tell, from a distance. But I think she’ll be great! And when we’re a team, you can be the first person we give a ride to.”

Ricken looked back at the beast just in time to see it snap up some small scurrying creature and swallow it whole. “Great.”

Over the next few weeks, every moment Henry was not in battle or preparing for one was spent caring for and trying to tame, the foul-tempered animal. And, over the next few weeks, every moment Ricken was not in battle or preparing for one was spent trying to make sure Henry didn’t get killed or maimed in the process.

The winged horse didn’t like any humans, at all, and Henry didn’t appear to be an exception. Henry worked, often times alongside Sumia, to calm it and establish a routine to gain its trust. From Ricken’s perspective, none of it worked. She was always on guard, never accepting food or brushing. At best, it wouldn’t react when Henry stood a few meters away to speak to it, which he did fairly often, (so at least he had someone new to tell his more painful word play). The winged horse was always unresponsive, but if the dark mage even thought about moving closer it would start getting threatening. A few times it went beyond threats, and Ricken would run interference to make sure Henry didn’t get too hurt, because he refused to raise a hand against the thing, even in self-defense.

Ricken at least got to receive a crash course in pegasi behavior. He knew now what parts of the wings they were most protective of, that they were born with canine teeth that were usually removed, that they didn’t like to fly if they could help it, all sort of things. He committed them all to memory – habit of an education in magic – but he didn’t think it would ever be useful. He wasn’t not Miriel, craving knowledge for knowledge’s sake.

After too many of these sessions, Ricken was healing a bruise on Henry’s arm while they sat on the grass a safe distance from the beast in question. The dark mage glanced back at the pegasus and said, “I think that went well.”

“But – she just chased you.”

“Yeah, she just chased me! And she went pretty slow, she could have caught me if she wanted.”

“She bit your finger off yesterday!”

“And you reattached it good as new!” Henry answered. “Also, she spat it out instead of eating it. She didn’t have to do that. Progress.”

Would anything get through to him? “But she’s still as mean as when you first got her.”

“Nah, not mean, just defensive.”

Ricken finished healing the last of the bruises and sighed. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Keep believing she has potential, despite all this.”

Henry looked up to the darkening evening sky in thought, slow to respond. “I’m sure she has her own reasons for being the way she is. And she’s never aggressive with the other pegasi, or even the other horses! She always watches over them, and grooms them, even if they don’t groom her back. Just because an animal doesn’t like humans doesn’t make them mean. Sometimes it just means they’re smart.”

He blinked. “Oh, wow, it’s later than I thought. Got to go, I was supposed to help with dinner ages ago.”

Henry left in a hurry, and Ricken was left to fetch two very harried knights to tether the pegasus with the other winged horses. They only glared a little bit at the request.

Ricken edged closer to her when the knight’s finished, keeping well out of biting distance. The dark pegasus glanced up, ears pricked and alert. Now that he looked, Ricken could see old raised welts along its back and legs, the kind that might have come from a whip.

“You really lucked out,” Ricken said, voice low to avoid startling the animal. “That Henry found you. You couldn’t have found a nicer person.”

As close as he is, he can see that, though the pegasus had lost some of the thinness from before, her wings were still in rough shape, with pieces of leaves and twigs caught in the feathers. There was a large-ish one stuck neat a joint, a place most pegasus dreaded even having touched. Carefully, the young mage case a small wind spell, one tight and controlled enough to straighten some feathers and dislodge the stick.

He couldn’t help much, but he could do this at least.

It proved to be both the least he could do, and the most. After another week, the pegasus was no more tame than before, and Robin tells Henry that the army wouldn’t be able to keep feeding and sheltering the beast for much longer if it kept refused riders.

Henry was still smiling when they go to collect the beast, but Ricken sensed tension behind it. “I’m going to call it quits today. Want to go with me to set her free?”

Ricken agreed, and walked with them away from camp and up to higher ground.

“Why did you want this one, anyway?” Ricken asked. “We have the money to get a tamer pegasus. Or at least a less bitey one.”

Henry’s smile didn’t look like a happy one. “It’s silly, but I just didn’t want her to die. She reminds me of someone I knew. I figured I probably couldn’t tame her, but I wanted to give her a chance to grow strong again. Wild pegasi get picked off by wyverns a lot, but maybe now she’ll have a fighting chance. Though she was still raised on a farm…”

He trailed off, then shrugged. “Ah, well. That’s life! Can’t say we didn’t try.”

“I’m sorry.”

Henry laughed. “Why? You’re not the one who was gonna kill her.” He shook his head. “The strangest things bother you, Ricken.”

He stopped walking, and the mage stopped with him. They were high up enough for Ricken to see the soft wind blow back distant treetops.

“This should work.” Henry said. He moved to undo the bridle while Ricken stood by, ready to heal in case the beast tried to bite off any more fingers. The pegasus barely reacted to the close contact, only giving a half-hearted huff of breath.

The dark mage stepped back, bridle in hand. “This is it! Fly free my friend, take care of yourself!”

The black pegasus blinked, flared its wings, and without much warning launched itself into the air dazzlingly quickly (Ricken might not like them much, but it was still fascinating to see a thing that didn’t look like could ever belong in the air fly so gracefully).

They watched the shape shrink into the distance.

“I hope she’s okay.” Ricken said, surprising himself.

“I hope so too,” Henry said. “Come on, let’s go back.”

All the way back down the hills to camp, Ricken’s chest felt oddly heavy. The pegasus was not a nice animal at all, but he’d still miss it. His mood was so low, he felt chilled, like the sun disappeared.

No, wait. He did actually feel cold, like someone was blocking out the sun. He looked up, and his jaw dropped as Henry started laughing beside him.

The black pegasus dove down, and for a moment Ricken thought that this was it, this was how he died, not in battle or of old age but from an extremely irate flying horse.

But it doesn’t swoop down to start biting or stomping either of them to death. Instead, it did something even more startling; It landed, gigantic wings folding neatly along its back, stalked up to Henry, and slowly lowered its head near his shoulder. Equally slowly, Henry reached up to stoke the bridge of her nose. The pegasus glanced over to Ricken, and gently nudged his shoulder with her snout.

It was strange, and incredible, and Ricken can’t help but to laugh too.

Henry did eventually take him on the ride, after Henry and Hemlock had even enough training to get the all clear from the other pegasus knights. It’s as terrifying as expected and only cements his decision to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground in the immediate future.

#fegenweek #my writing #fe13 #fe #henry #ricken

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