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mostlopez-blog · 2 months ago

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Finding A New Home

Chapter 3: Search Engine

Chapter Master List

As he made his way through the many corridors, Hank admired the strange childlike paintings Kickback decorated the walls with. She had attempted several self portraits, three stylized renditions of Hank and Tony, and many many other nonsensical spiraling patterns that made Hank's optics buzz. He reached one hallway where neon green fields stretched in every direction, dotted with lumpy misshapen plants.

Hank remembered when she had first painted these. How angry he was that she stained the facade wood paneling. At the time he insisted that they be painted over, or at worse removed entirely. But he never seemed to find the time. Hank placed a hand on one of the lumpy trees, and felt a spark of pride. For a brief moment, Hank thought he could feel a nice cool summer breeze. Of course, Hank didn’t have skin, so he wasn’t entirely sure what that cold “felt” like to begin with. But it was a nice idea to simulate.

Just then a noisy beep caught Hank’s attention. Tony stepped out of their room, fully clothed screen to legs. Wearing clothing wasn’t common for bots, but it wasn’t exactly rare either. It was a new practice that bots used to express themselves. Hank for one never left his house without his cap on, and Kickback regularly wore a scarf. Tony, of course, drove this trend to the extreme. They now wore a full red suit with long flowing coattails, and large yellow buttons. Tony also wore pants, though these were ill-fitted, and dragged on the ground somewhat. A proper ringleader was Tony, who would also wear a tophat if their head wasn’t so skinny.

Tony had a full wardrobe in his room, complete with cupboards of clothing, and a staggering amount of hat racks. During one of their scavenging trips, Tony had picked up a sewing machine, and never let it go. Tony could spend entire days experimenting, trying color combinations and sewing parts together.

“Impressive” Hank chuckled. “Homemade I assume?”

Tony flashed a green checkmark on their screen. They struck an elaborate pose, crossing one leg over the other, and thrusting their hands up in the air. An audience gave a thunderous applause.

With a heavy pull the bots opened the front door, then slammed it shut once more. Hank hung a sign on a tack. “Out on errands. Will return soon. Feel free to stay a while!” then in much smaller text at the bottom, “Please water the plants.”

Nema town was sleepy that day, slow and quiet. Bots with their feet kicked up, rested on their front porches. In the distance a gentle wind sang a song as it flew through open windows and along narrow streets. A gentle wind chime sang along.

Like most days there was little movement in the town, say for a few bots going about on errands, and a handful of travelers out on their own business. As he made his way to the town square, Hank was certain their little journey would be the talk of the town for the next few weeks, for good, or bad.

“Good afternoon, Hank!” called Chell from her windowsill. She was a short squat bot, with several arms with minds of their own. “Lovely day for a walk, isn’t it?”

“Not for too long, I hope.” Hank called back with a wave. “Few errands to run.”

“Did Kickback get herself in a pinch of trouble again?”

Another window flew open on the opposite side of the street. “Of course she did! Trouble is programmed into her!” Said Brax the electrician. He was a taller slender bot, with a generator on his back. “She wasn’t trying to fly again, was she?”

“Flying! Ha! Dangerous nonsense if you ask me!” Said Chell, not letting Hank answer. “She should have learned her lesson the first time she crashed.”

“I didn’t ask you, thanks.” Called Hank, as he bitterly walked away. Tony followed closely behind, and looked towards their neighbors. Tony gave a small wave. Chell shut her window.

“Noisy gaffers…” mumbled Hank.

The two continued their walk through Nema town without much of an issue. Hank laughed and greeted other bots as they passed. Tony did not. Hank waved at couples as they wandered through town. Tony did not. Hank was briefly stopped by the twins Dekota and Reillo. They were young bots, beary two years of age by that point, and full of energy.

“Do you wanna play batter ball with us Mr. Hank?” asked Dekota? “We promise we’ll go easy on you!”

“Not today spark plugs. We’re on important errands.”

Reillo made a sad sniffle and kicked the dirt. “Fine, but we want a rematch against Kickback. It's not fair she can fly.”

Hank chuckled and walked away. Tony gave the twins a passing glance and flashed a waving hand. The twins went still. “Faceless freak…” they muttered to themselves. A terrible, but not unfamiliar loneliness clawed at Tony’s coding. They tried to dismiss it, but suddenly felt a hand wrap around their own. “Don’t worry about them” Hank whispered, pulling Tony along.

For Tony this disdain from the town was normal. It was lucky that Hank was here, because most days it was actually worse. Tony still had scratches from the time bots from the shadows threw rocks at them. There was a constant rumor mill about Tony, that cycled through the same usual nonsense. “They don’t act natural,” said bots. “They’ll bring trouble, I just know it.”

But so far, no trouble had ever been brought to Nema town. And because Hank was quite generous and helpful most bots were able to forgive his friend’s oddities. Hank often hosted social hours in his factory, and would go about town as gardener to decorate and add color. Bots appreciated him. Bots liked Kickback. She liked to play games and would tell jokes. Bots tolerated Tony.

Finally the pair reached the edge of town, to where the roads became less maintained and the houses began to thin out. Out here great colorful windmills spun in endless circles, generating enough electricity to power Nema town, and then some. Between the windmills and small hints of civilization were long stretches of sterile brown fields. Hank often looked out at these fields, and simulated what they would look like if they were filled with plants. But of course, that was nothing more than a fantasy.

Tornadoes were known to form quickly out here, on the long, flat, desolate stretches of scorched earth, and the bots did their best to move along quickly. Smoke still smoldered from the ground here, and bits of ash danced in the air. Tony considered themself very lucky that they didn't have to breathe, because looking at it all made their chest ache.

Of course, staying on what little was left of the road was difficult enough. Long stretches of the road had crumbled to dust, leaving nothing but a vague shadow of its former glory. It was easy to get lost out here, low visibility, and flat nondescript plains. Without a proper map the bots would have gotten lost before even starting their adventure. Luckily they did not need to go far to find salvation.

A large truck depot rested just outside of town, a sprawling well maintained lot with rows upon rows of garages. A short picket fence ran the length of the lot, serving no other purpose than to clearly mark what was, and what was not the owner’s property. Several metal signs were planted right before the entrance. They warned visitors to “KEEP OUT,” and that “Absolutely NO Advertising” was allowed. Hank and Tony blatantly ignored the signs, Hank by walking inside, and Tony by playing a commercial for hand soap.

As they approached one of the open garages, a loud horn caught them by surprise. It was a thick machine covered in heavy plating, and carrying a massive scoop on its back. It dragged itself on long caterpillar tracks as it made a wide swing into view. The tracks stopped just short of the bots, and the horn blared again.

This was a construction bot. Even Tony, in spite of rarely interacting with anyone besides Hank and Kickback could see that. From the bright yellow and black markings, to its sheer size, not to mention the voice of the thing, deep and booming.

“Do you know how much I gotta do?! I gotta fix the roads, then I gotta fix the windmills, then I gotta fix the bridges! Now your telling me I gotta stop wimps from breakin’ into my home as well!” He slammed his scoop on the ground, dangerously close to the bots.

Tony jumped. Hank flinched, but held his ground.

Ace was a very combative bot, prideful and quick to anger. He had a long standing rivalry with Hank over who was the better designer, who could build their designs better, and so on and so forth.

Hank was more than happy to oblige the rivalry . He regularly invited Ace to his social hours, knowing he had no way of getting inside. “I’d invite you inside, but well, I don't think you could get through the door.” Ace had retorted by “accidentally” driving through one of Hank’s gardens.

The two bots had actually gotten into a week-long argument about the logistics of the Runaway. Ace had insisted that the ships power consumption was too inefficient, while Hank argued otherwise.

Hank thought back on all this, as he looked up at Ace now. That settled argument was about to be dug up, and become much more painful.

“Good morning, Ace!” Hank called back. “We have a favor to ask.”

The construction bot’s rotund recessed head slowly pivoted to Hank, then to Tony, then to Hank again. “You got a screw loose Hank? I thought you didn't need my help?”

“Things have changed. We need to get to Saxon Scrap yard. And I’d bet my bolts you’ve fixed the roads leading there?”

“Maybe I have, and maybe I haven’t. What's it to ya wimp?”

Somewhere deep in Hank’s coding an annoying error message reared its ugly head. It warned him that his servos were growing too hot, and that his internal fan was working overtime. As much as he would have like to sling around insults, working together would produce better results. Hank knew the land well enough 10 miles around his factory. But that was all, he rarely went outside that area, let alone his own factory. They’d need an expert now, a bot who knew the roads inside and out. Or at the very least, had fixed them.

Hank reluctantly followed the error message’s advice. “Leaving the planet didn’t go as planned. And the ship might have, oh what's the word, broke.” Hank admitted.

Ace didn’t have any sort of face plate, so he couldn't simulate emotion like other more “organic” bots. But in this moment if his metallic head could smile, it would be basking in the same sort of smugness a cat does while watching a dog.

“Really now? Weren't you the one going around talking about how great that ship was.” Ace rolled back and forth searching through his databases. “In fact, I know you were, ‘cause you said my design was trash!” Ace slammed his scoop on the ground again. Hank kept his comments to himself, but his own databanks didn’t lie. Ace’s design for a spaceship was the worst thing Hank had ever seen, and Hank had seen a lot.

“Can you help us get there or not?”

“What's in it for me?” Ace huffed.

Hank powered down his optics, and rubbed at his arms. Flakes of blue paint fell to the ground. “Ace, this doesn’t leave the parking lot, ok? You designed a better spaceship. There. Does that make you happy?” Ace’s horns blared in victory, and he lapped the truck depot.

“I knew I was the best! That just made my day. Where’d you say? Saxon Scrapyard. I know the roads, good enough. I can lead you there.”

And so they set off into the dusty gloomy horizon. Across acres of broken fields and dead lands. For many miles the bots matched along the only hint of civilization that was left. A recently paved stretch of asphalt that branched off in every direction imaginable.

At first they passed through known lands. Wide, safe, and decent flat territory, inhabited by familiar bots hobbling about on their own business. The bots waved to each other as they passed by, but making a point to ignore Tony. Then they came to the badlands, where Tony had been scouting previously. Here the roads shifted back to dirt and rock, and hills and valleys suddenly sprang up from the ground. The land regularly crumbled out here, and Ace had to stop many times to make sure the bots didn't fall.

Even further out came territory that even Ace wasn’t very familiar with. Here very few bots lived, and the handful that were here talked in hushed tones and kept to themselves. The hills here grew higher and higher. On some of them rested old warehouses that cast long shadows on the dead earth below. Even Ace found himself growing nervous out here.

When the bots had begun their journey, the sun was still rising high into the dusty sky, though even then it was difficult to see. But now what little could be made out of the sun was fading into the distance.

Now the bots reached a deep valley with a wide river at the bottom. Ace’s long treads came to a grinding halt as he looked up and down the length of the river. There was an old truss bridge here that the road was supposed to cross over. But the bridge was collapsed, and its middle sagged into the running water.

“This is as far as I can go.” Ace grumbled.

“Can’t you cross?”

“No, I’m too heavy. I’ll get stuck on the bank.”

Ace found his own voice played back at him. “F-f-f-fix the roads. Roads. Then i-i-i- the bridges. I gotta fix the bridges-s-s-s.”

Ace turned to Tony, then to Hank, then back to Tony. He was certain he should be insulted, but was more confused than anything. He had heard the rumors, but had never seen Tony in action.

“What are you-”

Tony played back more of Ace’s words, mixed with a trashy infomercial. “I-I-I knew I was the best- best. Knew I was- Best. I Knew I was [a baby].”

“By Trav-0s 1 what are you-”

“[Have you ever pushed a] [baby] [underwater? What happens?] [the baby- ] [F-] [king] [dies!]” Tony began to play a looping video of a rock sinking in a pool of water, accompanied by a sad violin’s song.

Ace was stunned into silence. Hank did his best to stifle a laugh.

“I knew you was a freak.”

Hank was happy to cut in, and stepped in between the bots. He turned away from Tony, but could faintly feel their screen bristling with angry static. “If you can’t lead us, what now? We don’t have a map.”

Ace grumbled more to himself, and his head shook back and forth. “I know a bot on the other side of the river. Knows his way around. Not as good as me, mind you, but well enough.”

“Can we trust them?” Hank asked.

“Well I thought so, but I’m not sure anymore. I had cut a deal with him to fix the bridge, but clearly he didn’t feel like holding his end of the bargain.”

“Another construction bot?”

“No. A military droid. Goes by the name Clanker”

Tony flashed a baseball and a screw on their screen. “[You know what they say, Luigi-] [old timer is a-] [-coo coo for Cocoa Puffs!]” Ace laughed at that one, because for once he understood what Tony ment, and agreed.

Military drones were not known for their stability, mental or otherwise. They had suffered the most since the organics had gone. They were deactivated, for one reason or another, and by the time they all woke up, the organics were gone. They had no purpose anymore, their mission to protect failed before they were even activated. The failure drove them mad, and they moved out to the edges of the known world.

Hank frowned. “Even so, Clanker might be our best bet to not get lost.”

A long billow of smoke burst from an exhaust pipe on Ace’s back. Then another, and another. It was a game he liked to play, trying to draw things in the smoke. It made him worry less. “That’s your choice now,” he huffed, “just make sure Kickback makes it back safe.”

“Where does Clanker live?”

“A big gas station, called The Kwik Shop. Just follow the road, or what’s left of it, straight east. You can’t miss it.” With that, Ace made his final goodbyes, and returned back the way they came. A loud horn was the last they heard from him.

#original writing #original character #robots #robot oc #writeblr #writing #creative writing #science fantasy

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babycharmander · 3 years ago

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Let's go with a throwback here... GLaDOS?

First impression: So like, my first exposure to Portal beyond hearing "THE CAKE IS A LIE" everywhere was, to the best of my memory, a kinda edgy fan animation with a weird interpretation of GLaDOS (since GLaDOS didn't have her iconic Portal 2 look yet, she was just portrayed as a generic pixel computer face) and I just remember thinking "wow this is really dumb, why do people like this song??" But upon actually playing the first game, I found her TERRIFYING. I got scared playing the original game for the first time back in 2012.

Impression now: I still find her somewhat scary, but I've come to appreciate how hilarious she is too, and just how overall heartbreaking her character is. She's a dang good character.

Favorite moment: GOSH HOW THE HECK DO I CHOOSE THAT?? Like, as far as dialogue goes, one of my favorite lines of hers is, "Here come the test results: 'You are a horrible person.' That's what it says. 'A horrible person.' We weren't even testing for that." and also "THE BIRTH PARENTS YOU ARE TRYING TO REACH DO NOT LOVE YOU. PLEASE HANG UP." (that test chamber took me FOREVER to figure out and when I finally heard that line I laughed so freakin hard.) But I also love GLaDOS's activation scene in Portal 2 because it's SO GOOD. Like, it really shows how terrifying she is and is a fantastic re-introduciton to her. Also you can see some really subtle facial expressions with the way she's animated and it's so good. Gosh I love it.

Idea for a story: I have written so many Portal fanfics and a lot of them involve her. I do have like, one fic idea that was a collab with Jaywings? IIRC the first chapter or two was written. If I'm ever in a Portal mood again it might be fun to go back to that. Or maybe back to my crow!Wheatley game--she was involved in that, albeit not as a main character.

Unpopular opinion: I know a lot of people interpret GLaDOS as a lesbian, but to me... GLaDOS aroace. she got that from Caroline. like, legit, when I first played the game and heard Cave describe Caroline as being "married to Science" my IMMEDIATE thought was "oh! she's aromantic!" and then that thought transferred to GLaDOS when I realized they were connected. I remember it made me really happy thinking about Caroline being aro and the thought of GLaDOS also being aroace also makes me happy.

Favorite relationship: Do I have to say it?? CHELL! I love seeing her interact with Chell! I love the complex relationship they share, how GLaDOS has this mix of respect for but also near-superstitious fear of her, and how they team up in the latter third of the game. I kinda wish we could see Chell's side of it, but it's fun to theorize and explore in fanfic, haha. And of course, next to that, I do like her relationship with Wheatley and cores in general, since they're constructs made with the sole purpose of taming her, so of course she just loathes them with every fiber of her being. It's kindof interesting to explore in fanfic. Honorable mentions goes to her relationship with Atlas and P-body because it's hilarious, and also her relationship with her "little killers" (which GOSH VALVE PLEASE SHOW US MORE OF THIS??? WHAT HAPPENED TO THE REST OF THE DLC CAMPAIGNS?? WHY WAS THERE ONLY ONNNNNEEE)

Favorite headcanon: Also a somewhat unpopular one, but my headcanon is that GLaDOS and Caroline are separate entities. Which isn't to say that Caroline was some innocent woman caught up in this--what was done to her was horrible, but also she was a genuinely awful person, which is why GLaDOS wound up so awful. But some point in her confinement, Caroline reconsidered her actions and attempted to act as a conscience for GLaDOS--at least, that's my interpretation of GLaDOS's speech about when she hears "her own" voice in her head. I know a lot of people see them as separate, but this is my interpretation.

Wow, been a while since I've talked about Portal stuff...

#glados #portal #portal 2 #bc answers nonsense #jaywings

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maybe-theres-hope · 4 years ago

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Vague tarlos prompt if it inspires you? Any situation involving protective carlos? Love your writing! :)

Hi anon! Thank you for prompting!

Warnings: references to Rohypnol type substance (though it is not named), potential assault situation. Absolutely nothing actually happens, it’s handled quickly and this is mostly lighthearted. I just wanted to warn for anyone who’s triggered by the situation.

Carlos didn’t frequent bars much, as a rule. He liked dancing, sure, and socializing; however it was mostly the clientele he didn’t like. Carlos was a cop--he’d seen the shitty underbelly of this city more than he cared to acknowledge, and usually nefarious types like that liked to hang out in places like this: loud, anonymous, and dark. Most of the time his friends didn’t invite him out to clubs and bars because he couldn’t turn off his instincts and thus it made him a little bit of a stick in the mud at times.

Tonight was similar, though he’d allowed himself to let loose just a little. Michelle had bugged him for ages to come out this bar, a hole in the wall that she said he might be able to pick up in, given the atmosphere was pretty welcoming for a country joint.

At this particular moment, just past his third beer, he was beginning to see the appeal.

Standing at the bar and chatting with the girl behind it was the absolute cutest guy he’d ever seen. Compact but muscular, with arms just slightly too big for the sleeves of his patterned shirt. Casual stance, but seeming a little out of place. Probably a tourist. And holy hell, his perfect ass. Carlos was not a shallow guy, but watching as the guy leaned in closer to talk to the bartender and the way the denim pulled over what was probably the most beautiful specimen of a ‘bubble butt’ Carlos had ever seen, he had to admit to himself that he was literally objectifying the guy where he stood.

To his consternation though, Michelle noticed right away. “I see you leering, Carlos. Go, I’m fine here,” she smirked.

“I was not leering, Jesus ‘Chelle. I was just...admiring.”

“Mmhmm. Well? Go talk to him, or I will.”

He snorted. “I don’t think you’re his type at all, chica.”

“You can tell that from way over here? Or are you just hopefully projecting?” She took another sip of her beer and glanced back over to the guy, who was now being approached by another handsome man. The newcomer was tall and lean with a disarming smile that Carlos’ object returned.

“See that?” he said with a nod of his head. “Body language is everything. He’s gay, believe me. Or at least he swings that way.”

“Okay so? Why are you still sitting here? Someone’s about to beat you to the punch.”

Carlos sat and watched as the newcomer said something apparently chuckle-worthy, and the cutie he’d been watching obliged with the sweetest smile and a bashful duck of his head. The tall guy was laying it on thick, and it was apparently working. Carlos knew he’d missed his chance once Tall Guy’s hand slid softly down Cutie’s arm and lingered there for a moment with no rejection. Oh well.

“Too late,” he sighed, turning back to his beer.

Just a few minutes later, he couldn’t help himself checking over again, just to see that gorgeous smile again. However, this time Tall Guy was by himself, no sign of Cutie boy in the tight jeans. The bartender placed a cup of water in front of Tall Guy and walked away to take care of another customer at the other end of the bar. Carlos was just thinking that he actually might have a chance if he could find the guy again in the crowd when his instincts kicked in.

Tall Guy picked up the cup of water, holding it near his hip, between his body and the bar before placing it back on the top. He gave it a quick stir with the straw and left it alone.

Carlos watched him closely, but he never picked it back up. Then, Cutie returned, clearly having gone off to the bathroom or something similar, still with that sweet smile for his companion. His hand reached toward the cup, and Carlos was out of his seat before he could bring it a fraction of the way to his mouth.

“Hey!” he yelled across the room, nearly drowned out by the music but luckily it caught Cutie’s attention just barely. He looked up at Carlos with a startled look, turning to confusion and a little bit of fear, no doubt in response to Carlos’ thunderous expression.

Carlos barely looked at him, his eyes only on Tall Guy as he shouldered his way between them, putting the other guy safely behind his back.

“That how you think you’re gonna get laid tonight?” He gestured to the cup, still held in Cutie’s hands. "Drugging someone so they can’t say no?”

“What?” came the guy’s incredulous reply from behind him.

“I didn’t do anything, man. You’re just jealous I saw him first.” And wow, what an asshole. The guy was standing right there for crying out loud.

“I’m right here, and I’m not a commodity.” This bit was a little exasperated.

Carlos didn’t back down. “I know what I saw, and I know what the consequences are for you if you don’t just turn around and get lost right now.” He took that moment to pull out his badge and hold it up for Tall Guy to see clearly. “Unless you’d like to stay, in which case I’ll start reading you your rights.”

Tall Guy looked sufficiently scolded, but still resentful. Carlos puffed up his chest a little more and took a step into his space.

“Fine, man, fine. I’ll see myself out, officer,” he spit. Carlos turned back to Cutie without giving the guy a second glance.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not able to help the concern in his voice.

“Did you really see him put something in the cup?” Cutie asked. His face had gone a little pale.

“Yeah. I didn’t know what it was, but that kind of thing is never good. I’ve seen some horrible shit at the other end of encounters like that,” he said.

This made the guy’s face turn relieved and overwhelmed all at once. “Thank you,” he said with conviction. He looked ready to hug Carlos, which Carlos himself wouldn’t have minded in the least, but seriously, they’d just met.

“You’re welcome. Not that I don’t think you can handle yourself, but...you know. Cop,” he said with a self-conscious gesture at his badge before stowing it away in his pocket again.

“No, I mean, yes thank you for saving me from a fucking asshole like that but also…it’s...I’m.” He struggled to find words, and Carlos was confused, but he let the man come to the words on his own. “Even more than the physical danger, which I’d probably recover from anyway--”

And didn’t that make Carlos feel even more protective of this sweet, gorgeous man.

“I’m sober. So. The recovery from that would have been...much worse. So thank you,” he said again, looking Carlos in the eye with more seriousness than he’d been prepared for.

Now Carlos was a little overwhelmed himself, but he managed a “No problem.” The man kept looking at him though, so he kept talking. “I’m Carlos, by the way.”

“TK,” he said, offering his hand. “So I have to ask, how did you see him put something in my drink from way across the bar?”

Carlos�� face grew hot. “Umm. Well, I--”

TK laughed. “I was watching you too, before.” His eyes shined in the neon lights behind the bar, and Carlos was lost for a moment. “You’re cute, couldn’t help myself. I can even forgive you for playing for the other team,” he joked.

Carlos figured he was referring to the fact that he was sitting in a booth with a woman, and hurried to correct the assumption. “Oh, no I...Michelle’s just a friend. I’m definitely gay,” he stuttered.

This only made TK laugh more, and even though Carlos could tell it was at his own expense, he wanted to hear more of it. When he’d recovered, he went on. “Oh, I know you are. No straight man knows what colors flatter them that well,” he gestured to Carlos’ green v-neck tee and black jeans. “I meant that you’re a cop. I’m a firefighter. Other team?” He grinned again at his joke.

Carlos just stared at him, face feeling redder by the minute and he thanked every possible deity that this bar was dark enough to hide it. Hopefully. He came to after a moment and let out a startled laugh which brought a bright smile to TK’s face.

“Well, I guess I can make an exception this once and ask you to join us?” he ribbed. “If you’d like. My friend Michelle over there is a paramedic. We can swap war stories and you can forget about the asshole.” He grinned hopefully at TK.

“I’d like that,” was his answer.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you liked it :)

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tarlos prompt #potential assault tw #911 lone star #911ls #carlos reyes #tk strand #au: different first meeting #Brooke writes

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nonbinaryspacegoo · 4 years ago

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the sudden reawakening of my special interest in portal has yet to die down and i am full of Thoughts

specifically im full of Thoughts about a core!chell and human!wheatley au

so uuhhh

portal 1:

* glados boots up the Test Core (Chell) and releases her into the test chamber, you know the drill

* eventually glados decides that this isnt all that interesting and goes to incinerate the core, only for said core to, against all odds, make a daring escape off her management rail and through a hole in the wall

* determined that no tech in HER facility will defy her, glados attempts to hunt the rogue ai down but the fact that chell was outfitted with a portal device attached to her hull makes it bizarrely hard

* somehow the little bastard makes it all the way to glados' chamber and takes her out but not before having her portal device removed and incinerated, and being shut down (for now!)

portal 2:

* chell is powered on after she is assigned to caring for sleeping test subjects. too bad theyre almost all dead

* chell goes through the survivors, waking them up and trying to help them through the test chambers to help her find her portal device and make her escape to the surface. they keep dying on her which is...less than ideal, but she Perseveres and eventually comes to her Lucky test subject, Wheatley [redacted]

* hes chatty, and his testing and puzzle solving techniques are strange and often involve breaking things, but chells a results kinda core and hes gotten further than any other human so who is she to question his methods

* he manages to find her a Personality Core Hull Attached Portal Device and attach it to her and they move on together

* eventually they come to the end of her management rail and she communicates that she wants him to catch her. there are two options for this: 1. he does manage to catch her in his arms and is promptly knocked to the ground under her not insignificant weight and velocity and gets to lie winded on the ground with a metal orb on his chest and a nose bleed. or 2. (bastard addition) he realises at the last second that Hey Thats A Big Metal Ball, gets war flashbacks to high school soccer practice, and promptly jumps back, letting chell hit the ground

* either way they move on glados' old chamber and wheatley openly wonders who finally took her down. they make it to the control panel and wheatley plugs her in. now either chell activating the lights or him hitting buttons at random boots up glados

* wheatley attempts to talk his way out but glados is much more interested in the little core who fucking MURDERED HER

* wheatley attempts to bargain for his freedom ("well i see you two have some history, how about you just pop me up to the surface and ill let you two catch up. (possible further dialogue depending on how much of a bastard you like your wheatleys) or maybe you should um, send her with me, i mean, seems reeeaaalllyy dangerous, and im sure youd want her far FAR away from you. so you could just... hand her over, send us to the surface, and we'll both be gone Forever, never have to worry about her coming for you ever again"

* glados informs him that since hes awake and gotten this far, though shes "sure the Testing Core did all the real work", he can start testing while she deals with this rogue (insert musing about how to make an AIs death as painful as possible here)

* at this moment chell manages to wrench herself free of the claw that was holding her and makes another bid for freedom. (she either 1. slips through another well-placed hole in the floor or 2. is quickly crushed and her lifeless body is tossed away as glados laments how easy she got off before turning her attention back on wheatley. either way she tosses him into a test chamber to get started

* wheatley goes through several tests before engaging an aerial faith plate only to spot chell, after several jumps he manages to get the gist of what shes trying to tell him (shes alive and shes going to get him out of there, just keep testing)

* chell does just that, busting her human out and taking off together

* wheatley comes up with a plan to take her down and they do it

* they manage to install chell as the new chasis. not sure what she does with glados but i am feeling wheatley kicks her severed head at one point

* now theres a few versions i can think of

1. chell betrayal: chell makes wheatley test instead of releasing him

2. wheatley is forced to sit around waiting for chell to try and find a way to get both of them out and many nasty words are said

3. wheatley betrayal: wheatley pulls some fuckery to try and ditch the core and send himself to the surface, or even shut the whole facility down, or maybe control the place through chell, either way its a bastard move.

* idk what happens after that part thats all i got plotwise lol

but here are a few little tidbits on core!chell

* she was built to keep glados entertained by running tests

* she does love doing puzzles and pushing herself but she does NOT care for being put down and the constant threat of death or dismemberment and she certainly doesnt care for people trying to kill her

* someone told her that there was a whole world outside the facility (im thinking glados, as a way to taunt her with the fact that shed never see it) and now she wants OUT

* does not speak. at all. ever. she has a vocal processor and should be able to but she doesn't

* based on how some people will "nod" and "shake their head" by jiggling the camera up and down or side to side, or jump to express their feelings while playing, i headcanon that she communicates via expression (as best a core can), lots of wiggling, pointedly looking between items of interest, and spinning

* heavier than most cores because she was built to withstand an absolute beating, with thicker plates and so on

* very impatient, very smart. surprisingly expressive, and can be pretty affectionate when things are going well

#chell #core!chell #portal #portal 2 #valve #wheatley #glados #mine #pls interact i wanna Talk #portal au #reverse au #human!wheatley

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coykoii · 4 years ago

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fluff you say1!!! 8 xxxxxxx

santa tell me by ariana grande

“Santa, tell me if he really cares

'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here

Next year.”

~~~

don’t make me fall in love again (if you won’t be here)

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Michelle casts a brief glance at her mother and nods, a small smile on her face. She can’t help but agree, knowing that New York during the winter—especially during Christmas time—is a sight. The lights, the snow, the trees, it’s all very festive to go with the most wonderful time of the year.

Most wonderful time of the year.

The sentiment is almost funny in a bitter, slightly mocking way, Michelle knowing that she isn’t feeling the same holiday spirit as she had previous years, and for good reason.

“Yeah, it’s really nice,” Michelle says, averting her eyes and crossing her arms as she slinks further back into their apartment. Their portable fireplace is burning and their tree lights are on, but it’s far from warm and bright inside.

“Michelle,” her mother replies, and her tone is gentle yet pitying. “I know everything has been a bit hard, especially lately. Christmas was your guys’ holiday, wasn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she responds, rolling her shoulders to try to ease the tension. “I’m okay, honestly, but you should go out. I know you said you had this reservation with your friends tonight.”

“Honey…I’m not going to leave you alone on Christmas Eve.”

Michelle manages an all too brittle laugh, feeling a growing pit in her stomach as she says, “No, really, it’s fine. You guys have had this planned months in advance, way before…before everything happened. Go out and enjoy it.”

It’s hard, knowing she wants her mother to have a good evening despite not being able to have one herself, hard having to celebrate the holidays without all of your loved ones. The memories of their past years together are much too painful to think about right now, let alone to leave the house with.

“Only if you’re sure, Michelle…”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. Go out. Have a nice time,” Michelle assures her with a shake of her head. “Please.”

Her mother gives her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, saying, “I know it’s been a difficult year for you, ‘Chelle, and I’m so sorry. But, I’m sure this next one will be much better. I’ll make sure of that.”

Michelle nods, blinking around tears that have sprung out of nowhere, and tries to ignore the fact that this is the first Christmas in years that they’re not celebrating together��that she’ll be baking cookies and watching holiday movies and falling asleep this evening alone.

Christmas really was their holiday.

“Have a good Christmas Eve, Mom,” Michelle tells her, swallowing thickly before retreating back to the living room, a cup of eggnog in hand. She falls back on the couch, wrapping a blanket around herself despite the raging fire.

Being alone in the apartment is something that she’s used to, but never on this day of the year, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Michelle rests her head back against the couch, her gaze tracing the shadows that dance across the ceiling. She closes her eyes, silently wishing she could go back and prevent the dominos from toppling, the events that had them into this situation.

As time passes, the apartment grows colder and the fire begins to die out, Michelle feels a chill in the air. She breathes out a breath of frustration and cracks an eye open, the light only getting dimmer.

It’s at that point she notices the apartment window is cracked open.

Cautiously, Michelle places her mug down and approaches the window, a blanket still wrapped around her. It’s snowing and windy, the Christmas lights decorated around the city the only thing visible for a second.

And then, well, a hand comes up against the glass, and all she can do is exhale sharply.

“Michelle,” his voice calls out softly, and she immediately drops the blanket in haste to push the window open further. “Em.”

“Oh, my god. What are you—why are you here?” Michelle asks, feeling her hands shake ever so slightly as he sits on the other side of the wall. She can’t see his face, not with that stupid mask on, but even just hearing his voice has sent her heart into overdrive. “Peter?”

“I couldn’t just break tradition,” Peter tells her and with a watery laugh, he pulls his mask off. Maybe he looks a little older, a little sadder, but there’s nothing about him she doesn’t recognize. “Tell me you didn’t bake anything without me.”

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” she whispers, yet pulls him through the window anyway so that they’re standing face-to-face. “You’re supposed to be in hiding.”

“And yet, you found me stuck outside your window,” he responds with a small smile. “Nothing much has changed, really. A Christmas miracle?”

“You managing to get here without being caught is a Christmas miracle in itself.”

“Man, your faith in me has really dwindled, huh?” Peter jokes, placing a hand over his heart, over her. Fingers tracing down her cheek, it doesn’t take long for him to pull her into his arms.

Michelle squeezes her eyes closed, his hold firm on her, and she manages the words, “Missed you,” against the crook of his neck.

“I missed you, too,” he mutters, voice muffled by her hair. “Enough that I don’t really care if I get in trouble for being here.”

“Pretty irresponsible of you.”

“I’m only irresponsible for you,” Peter teases, pulling back just enough to see her face. She lets him tuck a curl behind her ear, lets him brush his lips against her cheek, her forehead, her nose.

“Why don’t you commit, dork?” Michelle asks, and he smirks slightly, pulling something off the fireplace mantle, dangling it above their heads.

“Just waiting for the right moment, Em.” He holds the mistletoe with the same delicacy he has for her, and she tilts her face down ever so slightly, lips meeting in the middle. It warms her up more than any fire could.

“Love you,” she utters when they break, and his expression softens into something that makes Michelle feel like him being here really is her gift.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry that I haven’t come to visit sooner, but trust me when I say I really wanted to.”

“No, it’s okay. I know. When...when are you going to have to go back?” Michelle asks, despite not wanting to know the answer, but he merely smiles at her.

“Fury’s gonna have to pry me from your arms.”

“I’ll have you know, I've got a really strong grip.”

“We have movies to watch and cookies to bake, Em. Can’t break our streak now. Fury can wait until after we spend Christmas together,” he tells her, serious, and she has to breathe out a laugh, the lights of the tree sparkling behind him.

“It is tradition.”

#for you Jess 🥰#fluff + a lil angst sorry not sorry #yes I am aware it’s only November #Christmas season starts in July #santa tell me #spideychelle #ask game #petermjane #my writing

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

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Do you mind write something for SUJU Hyukjae where his girlfriend is an idol at SM as a maknae of RV or something and they’re arguing because of her sexy concept comeback cause he’s jealous and she’s giving the silent treatment or something then they make up with some kisses in the dancing room? ♥️♥️

Hi anon. Just letting you know that your ideas are still too specific. I’ll take from the concept a little, just to write you a story since you’re so eager for one but in the future please don’t let your drabble requests be this detailed. It’s very difficult to create a scene in less than 300-400 words with a lot of information. I will decline any future ideas that are too specific. Sorry.

Pairing: Lee Eunhyuk x female reader

Word count: 281

________________

You were stumped by the way Eunhyuk was looking at you right now. Why had he dragged you out of the practice studio like that? The more you thought about it, the angrier you became from embarrassment.

His expression showed equal parts of annoyance. “What was that?!”

“I’d love to ask you the same question.”

“You can’t go dancing like that!”

“Like what?” you demanded, shaking your head at him. “Like an idol? I know I only debuted three years ago, but I’m pretty sure you can respect that, like you, this is my job.”

“To dance like that?!” he repeated, running an agitated hand through his hair. “No idol should move like that.”

“Like what, Eunhyuk?” His gaze pierced yours, and you laughed hollowly. “Oh, like that.”

“Mm.”

“I never took you for the jealous type. I mean, all girl groups dance like this, or have you not been paying attention?”

“You know I only have eyes for you,” he admitted, and your anger dissipated. “So how would I know what others dance like?”

“It’s my job,” you announced, albeit with a softer tone. Stepping over to your boyfriend’s side, you sighed before cupping his jaw in your hand. “You need to let me do my job.”

“Even if-”

You nodded. “There’s been plenty of times whilst dating you on the sly that I’ve been jealous too.”

“Really?! But I didn’t know.”

“No, because I never dragged you away in front of everyone and made a big deal out of it.”

“Ah. That.”

You smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something. But Eunhyuk?”

“Yeah?”

“No matter how I sing or dance, know that I only think of you too.”

________________

My ask box is open for this week’s Chelle Chats!

#chellechats #lee eunhyuk #eunhyuk drabbles #super junior #super junior drabbles #kpop drabbles #pwyl; saturday drabbles

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this-forest-within-me · 4 years ago

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I write fanfic, and I’m actually really proud of it! I’ve been writing for many years, and have poetry accounts on Facebook and Instagram, but my main ambition has always been to write fiction novels.

Funnily enough, Robin Hood BBC gives me oodles of inspiration to do just that. This is a short story I wrote for my friend, Michelle, a huge Gisborne fan, for her Secret Santa gift. I hope you like it.

** It is aimed at Gisborne fans only - no outlaws are involved in the making of this **

Third Chances

The end was nigh. Sir Guy of Gisborne, once the Master-at-Arms and evil henchman to the Sheriff of Nottingham, black knight supreme, and killer of Lady Marian, his one true love, was dying. Stabbed by Vaisey, the sheriff himself, in a fight to the death, he lay on the ground in the tunnels beneath Nottingham Castle, and thought about the life he had lived. About the mistakes he had made, and the people he was leaving behind.

Robin Hood, formerly his sworn enemy and love rival but now his brother in arms, held Guy tightly as his breathing slowed, and then, the black knight was gone and Robin laid him gently on the ground.

He was left alone, his lifeless body, swathed in black leather, resting on the cold, stone floor, his black hair fanned around his head. And, when the castle exploded above him, he didn't notice a thing.

***

Two days later, after a full day and night of torrential rain which had doused the raging fire in the castle, leaving a smouldering, blackened pile of stone, the salvage team was sent in. Made up of various villagers from Nottinghamshire, as well as bounty hunters from further afield, their main aim was to recover bodies, along with any valuables that hadn't been destroyed in the explosion, caused by Robin Hood's final arrow, aflame, hitting a barrel of Byzantine Greek fire.

There wasn't much hope for survivors. The Byzantine fire had decimated the castle keep, and there was barely anything left of the imposing fortress. Only rubble and death.

Michelle of Clun was part of a small team who had been sent below the castle, into the secret tunnels that had connected the castle to Sherwood Forest. Unused for many years, they had recently been the scene of a bloodthirsty battle between Isabella of Gisborne and Vaisey, former Sheriffs of Nottingham, and Guy of Gisborne and Robin Hood. The battle, that had been coming for many months, had ended with the death of everyone involved, apart from Archer, the illegitimate brother of both Gisborne and Hood, who now lived in the forest with Robin's outlaw gang.

All that should remain in the tunnels below the castle was the body of Gisborne, which Archer had requested be removed and receive a Christian burial.

Michelle felt a degree of melancholy as she descended into the tunnels depths. Although she hadn't known the imposing black knight in person, she had seen him around, and had admired his dark good looks from a distance. She had also sensed the yearning deep in his soul, for it mirrored her own.

She wasn't looking forward to seeing such a great man reduced to nothing more than a corpse, but the pay for salvaging was handsome, and she needed the money. It had been a difficult year. She only hoped that the sight of Guy of Gisborne's body wouldn't make her openly cry.

There was rubble all around, and, as Michelle and her compatriots scanned the area, she worried that they would not find a body in one piece. Setting out alone, she moved further into the cellar, coughing a little as she disturbed piles of dust. Holding her lantern above her head, she glimpsed a flash ahead of her and recognised the muted shine of a leather-clad arm, and a motionless hand. As she drew closer, she realised a wooden beam had fallen diagonally, wedging itself between the ground and the ceiling, and causing the rubble above it to pile onto the wooden beam. Beneath it lay Gisborne's body, protected.

Michelle called out to her workmates and fell to her knees beside the body. In repose, Guy's face was pale and austere, beautifully handsome. His leather jacket was a bloodied mess, and she tried not to look too closely. She felt a pang of loss. Although she had never even spoken to him, he had felt like a kindred spirit, yet his life had been snuffed out so early. Before she had even had chance to say hello.

She reached out a gentle hand to brush the dust from his face, and it barely registered that he was still warm before his bloodshot eyes snapped open, staring at her uncomprehendingly.

She shrieked, and Denton, one of the other salvagers, reached her first, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Michelle, are you alright?"

She stared at him, wide-eyed. "It's Gisborne. He— he's alive."

The rest of the gang joined them, and Guy was briefly and inexpertly examined. He was alive, but in a bad way. He had lost a lot of blood, and his wound was deep and jagged. It was unlikely that he would survive, but Michelle was suddenly galvanised into action.

They fashioned a makeshift stretcher and lifted Guy onto it. He cried out in pain, but his words were delirious and made little sense. There was no room to take him to the upper levels of the castle, so it was agreed that he would be transported further along the tunnel and into the forest. From there, Michelle intended to take him to her home nearby, where she would call for the wise-woman, Matilda.

***

It took a while to manoeuvre their way out of the tunnels, but, eventually, they reached Michelle's modest cottage in the village of Clun. They laid the knight out on her mattress.

"What will you do with 'im, Michelle?" Rose, one of the other salvagers, asked, and Michelle shrugged.

"I don't yet know, but I have to try to save him," she replied.

"Just be careful, Michelle," Denton warned. "He was never a nice man. I'd hate for yer to get hurt."

They left to return to the castle, and Michelle covered Guy with fleeces and ran as fast as she could to Matilda's forest dwelling. The wise-woman was tending to her herb garden, yet gathered her things together and followed Michelle, sensing the urgency in her friend's words.

Once in Michelle's cottage, she stopped and stared at the figure on the bed.

"My dear, dear 'Chelle. Why are yer wasting yer time on this scoundrel? I reckon 'e deserves to die, more so than my poor Robin did."

"Maybe so," Michelle replied. "But he's alive, and I can't allow him to suffer."

Matilda shrugged. "Very well. We will need hot water, and rags. Oh, an' a sharp knife so I can remove these leathers. I need to get to the wound," she added to a wide-eyed Michelle.

Matilda worked long into the day, removing Guy's clothes, cleaning the deep wound, and stitching it. Guy cried out in delirium and stared about him, although he never saw them. He muttered to himself and shouted, speaking to Robin and Marian and Archer, crying for his mother. Michelle did her best to hold him down while Matilda worked on the wound, and it wasn't difficult for he was very weak.

Once the wound was sewn and covered, they attempted to feed him with broth. He took a little and drank deeply when offered water. Matilda added something to the cup, and, eventually, he slept.

Michelle stayed with him almost constantly. His sleep was restless, and his skin burned with fever. He called out constantly, and pawed at the bandages. Sometimes, he cried, speaking Marian's name, begging for her forgiveness. Other times, he shouted for his mother, his voice forlorn and lost. Michelle tended to him, cleaning him constantly, and ensuring he was comfortable. She slept in short intervals, alert to Guy's needs, always on hand to serve him. She was exhausted, but the desire to nurse the knight back to health was paramount. He deserved a second chance; everybody deserved a second chance. Even a third chance.

On the seventh day, Guy's fever broke, and the knight slept peacefully, at long last. Exhausted yet pleased, Michelle pulled blankets around herself and curled up by the fire, falling into a deep sleep.

When she finally awoke, she had no idea where she was. She was facing the stone hearth, and her slumber had been so deep that she was, for a moment, confused. But then, it all came flooding back; entering the castle ruins, finding Guy's body, bringing him home, and nursing him through the worst of his fever.

She rubbed her eyes, sleepily, and stretched. Behind her, the mattress creaked and a tentative voice broke the silence.

"My— my lady. Please tell me where I am and why I am here."

With a gasp, Michelle whipped round, clutching the blankets beneath her chin. Guy was awake, watching her in bewilderment. His gaze softened as he regarded her startled countenance.

"I don't mean to alarm you. But," he looked around the cottage. "I have no recollection of getting here. What happened? And why am I," he looked downwards, appearing embarrassed. "Why am I naked?"

Michelle blushed and scrambled to her feet. It had been easier to keep him unclothed while she tended to his needs, including his bodily functions. She couldn't deny having admired his body while she worked, and she hoped it wasn't written all over her face.

"My lord," she stammered. "I apologise. I found you in the castle, close to death, and brought you to my home. You had been stabbed and everybody thought you were dead."

She watched the puzzlement on Guy's face turn to realisation as he recalled the events that had lead to him being stabbed. He looked stricken.

"Robin?"

Michelle shook her head, regretfully, and his expression fell. "What about Isabella? The Sheriff?"

"The castle exploded," Michelle explained, gently. "They both died."

A tumult of emotions passed over his features before they settled on grim satisfaction. He nodded, stonily. "They got what they deserved."

Unsure of how to reply, Michelle fell silent, and, after a short pause, he looked up at her, hopefully.

"I'm hungry and thirsty. Is there anything to eat?"

Glad of something to do, Michelle fetched him broth and cooled boiled water, and he drank both, greedily, and asked for seconds. Once he was full, he asked for clothing.

His leather outfit was ruined, having been cut off his body by Matilda, who had commented bawdily on his emerging body parts. Cringing slightly, Michelle told him that his former outfit was not suitable to wear anymore, and he shrugged.

"Leathers were the old me. I need something new."

Enthusiastically, she left him consuming more broth and ran to her neighbour's cottage. Robert was tall and built similarly to Guy, and he presented her with clothing suitable for the black knight. Returning to the cottage, Michelle found Guy sleeping again, and she lay the outfit, roughly-made leggings and a loose black tunic, out on the mattress beside him, before setting to work filling the water supply and collecting firewood.

He awoke much later and dressed, gratefully, before attempting to rise. He was too weak, though, and Michelle had to help him, wedging her shoulder under his armpit and guiding him outside so he could relieve himself. Although she turned away to preserve his dignity, he remained unembarrassed in her presence.

"I don't even know your name," he said to her, once they were back in the cottage, and he was eagerly spooning more broth into his mouth.

"It is Michelle," she said, shyly.

He nodded. "Of course. A beautiful name for a beautiful person."

"Oh, I don't know." Michelle avoided his eyes, directing her gaze at the floor, modestly, but he reached out to put a finger under her chin, raising her head until her eyes met his.

"I tell the truth," he said, softly, looking into her eyes. "I owe you my life. You have selflessly nursed me back to health, even though you didn't have to. I don't know how to repay you."

Michelle smiled, faintly. "I'm just glad that you are recovering, my lord."

"It is Guy," he told her, firmly. "You can call me Guy. I am no longer lord of anywhere."

"You will always be a lord to me, Guy." Michelle looked at him, unable to hide the adoration in her eyes, and he stroked a finger across her cheek.

Michelle could feel herself falling for the black knight, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Indeed, the longer he resided with her, the less effort she put into hiding it. She hoped against hope that he would eventually feel the same way, and sometimes, she thought that he did. It was in the way he watched her when he thought she didn't know, in the way his hand lingered on hers when she helped him to move about. It was in the way he spoke her name, like it was the most precious, exotic word he had ever uttered. Maybe he was just grateful to her, but Michelle hoped it was more, because she was mad about him.

The day that she was dreading finally arrived. Guy was finally well enough to return to his home in Locksley. His wound had almost healed, and she couldn't blame him for wanting to leave her small, humble abode for the opulence of Locksley Manor.

She could barely contain her grief as he prepared to leave. He seemed reluctant about something, and hadn't spoken for quite some time, which sent Michelle spiralling into a depressed silence. He had no need for her anymore; this was obvious.

She busied herself about the small cottage, attempting to convince herself that his leaving was for the best, and that she could get back to normality once he had gone, when suddenly, he was by her side.

"Michelle," he said, urgently, and she looked at him in surprise. Next minute, he took her in his arms and began to kiss her with a desperation that astonished her.

Sensing her reluctance to respond, he released her quickly and backed away. "I'm sorry. I overstepped the mark."

"No, no." Michelle reached out for him, then stopped herself. "You surprised me, is all. I didn't think you felt the same way."

"You mean, you have feelings for me?" It was Guy's turn to express surprise, and Michelle nodded.

A genuine smile spread across his face. "Then, may I kiss you again, my lady?"

"Yes, please," Michelle said.

A long while later, they parted and he smiled, taking her by the hand and leading her with him to Locksley. They paused on the edge of the village, looking across at Locksley Manor, Guy's former home. The outlaw gang were waiting in the courtyard, a shadow of their former self. Archer saw Guy and moved a few steps in their direction, a hand raised in greeting.

Autumn had Sherwood in its grasp, and the trees surrounding the small village blazed with russet and gold and brown, the ground coated with fallen leaves that crunched underfoot. Locksley was in mourning, for the great Robin Hood was dead, but, as Guy and Michelle walked through the village towards the manor house, hand-in-hand, Guy realised that not everything had to end in the fall, and that new beginnings were always there if you wished for them hard enough.

The end.

#guy of gisborne #sir guy of gisborne #richard armitage #robin hood bbc #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic writer #my fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic author #alternative ending #secret santa

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moonssugar · 4 years ago

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🔎 bet you weren't expecting me to say kaid (also chelsie)

KAID

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE because Kaid is my favorite boy lets goooooo!

When you think about Kaid you have to imagine golden. And also soft. Kaid is about your average sized coyote, he looks bigger next to Sam than he does other people but in reality he's not that large at all! Just small enough for Sam to carry with a little effort but also big enough to drag Sam out of bed. Most of Kaid has sandy gold or tan and rust colored reddish brown fur, his markings are from medium to dark brown and cream white along his back and except for the base and tip of his tail which are darker brown and then coal black. His ears are big ol' reddish brown isosceles triangles and they have soft, white lining inner lining. He's not the least bit straggly, in fact he likes being just a little fluffy and somewhat chonky looking all the time even though the climate would say otherwise. He has a round black nose and short pale whiskers. Kaid also has a cream chest and a cream colored soft underbelly. His face is less narrow than most coyotes, still kind of narrow but also friendly and inviting (friend shaped); he has round-ish eyes that become narrower at the sides. They almost close when he smiles and when he smiles he lolls out his tongue. He has long legs but his fluffiness makes them look shorter, his paws are the right size to fit in Sam's hands and have black nails.

Photo reference! His fur is close to this level of being varied but where this coyote has more dark/black undertones imagine rich golden and tan undertones instead with fewer dark brown hairs. The rust brown on the forelegs and hind legs is a really accurate color though and so is the tip of this boy's tail although Kaid's is more full.

But so is the color in this coyote (the gold and tan coloring, left) is really true to Kaid also! The only difference is that Kaid's gold fur is a shade or two darker. He also completely lacks grey fur.

Lastly, Kaid is mostly shaped like this boy right here (right)! Chonk, somft, round. Its so Sam can use him as a pillow, other times he's less fluffy and more slender.

Fun fact! Kaid has the exact same eye color as Sam, they're both dark brown, I remember describing it somewhere as taking in and consuming light. Second fun fact! There's a mark on his back that is mostly white and brown that makes a crescent moon shape around his shoulders that points forward.

CHELSIE

Alright so my girl Chelsie! I think her appearance is so cool, honestly. Chelsie is South Asian, her mom is white, her dad is Indian and she is transfem. She has dark brown chin length loose hair, slightly wavy, not completely straight and the ends always have some sort of highlights because it pisses her mom off and she loves it (go her!). For the current times, they're dyed lilac purple. She has a light brown/warm beige complexion, sometimes she tans and sometimes she ends up with sunburn if she's not careful, it's a toss up. She has moles instead of freckles, not that many of them, just dotting her face, ears, arms and shoulders. Her face is more narrow, she has an aquiline nose, light brown eyes and small little moles beneath them. Chelse is on the skinnier side, she has sort of lanky limbs. Chelsie is taller than Sam and she will never let him forget it, he's her elbow rest first and friend second (kidding but she does love to lean on him a lot because he's softer than the wall).

This isn't physical but she radiates Fun and Adventurous energy with her appearance.

Chells likes to experiment with her appearance a lot, its really her finding a balance between things that feel nice to wear and make her feel happy but also clothes that express her interests. She wears graphic tees all the time, a lot of them are thrifted or handed down from friends. She tends to dabble in a lot of chaotic fashion choices making her pretty hard to pin down but these mostly include: merchandise, shirts with slogans that don't make sense and have mildly threatening auras (she might have a shirt that says 'bepis' on it too) jorts, pleated skirts, patches on jean vests and jackets, the occasional pony bead bracelet, ankle bracelets, thrasher sweatshirts and oversized hoodies. Accessories she likes to wear often are little UFO and mothman earrings, the two gold bangle bracelets her paternal grandmother gave her (both different colors but I haven't decided which) and her pink feather boa necklace she wears around the house whenever she's feeling bad. It helps cheer her up!

I don't have official faceclaims for my characters because its incredibly hard to find people that look like them so while I don't have a face claim for Chelsie or the others I do have approximations! This woman's face reminds me a lot of Chelsie's, mostly her nose and smile. And the radiance is accurate to to be honest LOOK AT THIS GAZE UPON IT

She's listening to Lifetime Achievement Award here for sure lmao

#roadtrip by azzy #chelsie by azzy #kaid by azzy #pia thank you so much for sending this ask now i have an excuse to yell about my characters #also if theres grammar errors here #its bc its 4 am for me whoops #chelsie lemon demon enjoyer canon #chelsie (roadtrip!)#kaid (roadtrip!)

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morganaspendragonss · 5 years ago

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love language

for day six of @911lonestarweek! prompt: romance/’i feel so weak, i fell so deep’

(ao3)

“Have you been listening to a word I’ve been saying?”

Michelle’s voice cuts through Carlos’s distracted thinking and he flushes bright red. “Sorry?” he offers, but Michelle is grinning.

“What's going on in that head of yours?” she asks.

Carlos shakes his head, making a dismissive noise, but Michelle sits up and grins at him. “Come on,” she says. “You’ve listened to me talk about Iris for three years. It’s my turn now.”

He sighs, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. He knows there’s no dissuading Michelle now, much as he might want to. It’s stupid anyway, this thing he can’t stop thinking about, but it might do him some good to talk about it. A problem shared, and all that.

“I… I think T.K. is going to break up with me.” The words come out in a rush, and the shock on Michelle’s face might be funny if it were under any other circumstances.

“Why?” she demands. “Do I need to step in? I’m told I have an excellent right hook.”

“No - Michelle!” Carlos cuts in. “It’s… It’s probably nothing. I’m just overreacting.”

Michelle looks at him disapprovingly. “Yeah, you’re not getting out of this so easily. C’mon, spill.”

Carlos looks away, hands fidgeting with his beer bottle. “He’s just been distant lately. Not emotionally or...physically. But we haven’t been hanging out as much, and it’s not like our jobs don’t stop us from doing that anyway, but even when our shifts do match, it’s like he always has one excuse or another. And I know he’s lying some of the time.

“But then, when we are together, things are normal, you know? We’re normal. I just…” He sighs. “I just don’t know what to think.”

Michelle is silent for a long time, so long that Carlos almost can’t bear it. Eventually, she places a hand on his back. “I hate to bring this up,” she says quietly, far too gentle. “But, do you think, maybe, he might be cheating on you?”

She sounds almost guilty for asking, but Carlos understands. “The thought crossed my mind,” he admits. “But T.K. wouldn’t do that. I know he wouldn’t, not after everything he’s been through.”

Michelle still looks dubious, but she drops the point. “What, then?”

Carlos shrugs. “That’s the problem; I don’t know. Every time I think about it, I can only guess that either he wants to break up, or…” He trails off, unwilling to even voice the thought.

“Or…?” Michelle prompts.

Carlos grimaces. “Or,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “I’m worried he might be using again.”

Michelle’s eyes go wide. “No,” she says firmly, shaking her head. “I’m not saying you wouldn’t know better than me, but I see him at work; he doesn’t seem like he’s using. He can’t be, unless he’s really good at covering it up.”

“I know!” Carlos says, half-yelling. “I hate myself for even thinking about it, but, again, I don’t know what to think.” He sighs, deflating a little. “Sorry.”

“Well, have you tried asking him?”

Carlos sends her a withering look. “That’s the first thing I did, ‘Chelle.” He sips his beer. “Maybe I’m rushing him.”

Michelle almost chokes on her own drink. “Carlos,” she says, once she’s recovered. “You two are literally the slowest-moving couple I know. How the fuck could you be rushing him?”

“Well, it kind of started after I asked him if he wanted to meet my family. He said yes, but maybe he’s having second thoughts?”

Carlos doesn’t need to look to know that Michelle’s rolling her eyes at him. He’s fully aware that she thinks he and T.K. have one of the weirdest relationships known to mankind - and that’s without the mess at the beginning - but she supports them anyway. He half-expects her to call him an idiot and explain for the umpteenth time that T.K.'s completely head-over-heels for him, and could they just hurry things up already?

But she doesn’t. Instead, she just hauls him to his feet, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Come on,” she says. “We’re going boyfriend hunting.”

It’s Carlos’s turn to choke. “What?”

“Where’s T.K. now?”

He purses his lips. “I don’t know. It’s why I called you actually; we’re supposed to be hanging out, and then he cancelled last minute. Gave one of his excuses.”

Michelle’s expression morphs into one of determination. “All the more reason to go now.”

And Carlos is helpless to resist as she drags him out of his house and bundles him into her jeep.

They find T.K. surprisingly quickly, but it’s not anywhere Carlos would have thought to look. He’s in a little tapas bar ten minutes from Carlos’s house, a really nice place run by a Reyes family friend. He’s taken T.K. there a couple of times, and just the thought of him going there without Carlos hurts a little, stupid though that is.

He’s sat at a table near the window, opposite a small woman. Carlos doesn’t know her, but T.K.’s clearly met with her multiple times by the way they’re easily chatting.

“At least we know he’s not cheating,” Michelle comments drily. Carlos shoots her a look, but he can’t help but be a little bit relieved all the same.

“Michelle, we should go,” he murmurs, eyes still fixed on T.K. “I can talk to him about it la-”

He’s cut off by the sound of the car horn. He jumps, turning to stare at Michelle, though not before he sees T.K. catch sight of them, eyes blowing wide.

“What the fuck, Michelle?”

She shrugs innocently. “Oops?”

He glares at her, but she just points past him. He turns to see T.K. leaving the bar and heading towards them, an awkward smile on his face. Michelle gives him a little push and he pouts at her, but gets out of the jeep, walking to meet T.K.

“Um,” he says. “Sorry?”

T.K. raises an eyebrow. “You’re sorry?” he asks. “Don’t you think it ought to be me apologising?”

“I-”

“I know I’ve been pulling away,” T.K. cuts in, fiddling with the strings on his hoodie. “But, I swear, it’s not what you’re thinking. I… It’s kind of embarrassing, actually.”

“More embarrassing than Michelle forcing me to stalk you here?” he asks, and T.K. laughs.

“Fair point.” He points at the woman he’d been meeting with. “That’s Cristina. She’s, uh. She’s my Spanish tutor.”

Carlos’s mouth drops open. “Your what?”

“I’ve been learning Spanish,” T.K. says. “I felt bad about not knowing any, and you want me to meet your family so I guess I, um, wanted to impress them?” His voice tilts up at the end, almost as if asking a question, and Carlos feels a ray of warmth light up in his chest.

God, he loves this man.

There’s still one thing that’s confusing him, though. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

T.K. flushes bright red. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” he replies, nearly too quiet for Carlos to hear.

Carlos laughs. “Well, colour me surprised,” he says, voice low, winding his arms around T.K.’s neck.

“Careful, officer,” T.K. says. “Wouldn’t want to have to arrest yourself.” He grins, face lighting up, and adds, “Mi corazón.”

And Carlos tries to keep a straight face - really, he does. But he can’t help but burst out laughing, and T.K. makes a noise of protest.

“Sorry, amor,” he says, pulling away from him. “But you might want to save the Spanish for a while. My mom is way too polite to say anything, but if you talk like that around my sisters, they will never let you hear the end of it.”

T.K. winces. “My accent’s really that bad, huh?”

Carlos nods, smiling. “Needs work.”

T.K. gets an all too familiar glint in his eye then, and leans in close to whisper in Carlos’s ear. “Maybe you can help me out, officer.”

Carlos shivers and is just about to reply when he’s yet again interrupted by Michelle’s horn, which attracts her several dirty looks from passersby, and one from Carlos himself.

“Get a room!” she yells, and, much as Carlos is going to kill her for this later, he has to admit that she has a point.

“Come on, tiger,” he says. “Let’s go home, and then I’ll teach you everything I know.”

T.K. grins and loops an arm around Carlos’s waist. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Oh, I know.”

42 notes · View notes

noona-clock · 5 years ago

Text

Mistletoe Manor - Epilogue, Part 2

Genre: 1900′s AU/Romance

Pairings: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyung, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong x OCs

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, Epilogue 1, 2, 3, 4 | Words: 3,753

A/N: Chelle ( @prettywordsyouleft ) and I wanted to re-visit our magical world of Mistletoe Manor. The series left off on a bit of a cliffhanger, so we really had no choice! We hope you enjoy this extra look into the lives of Cassie, Evie, Joey, and all their friends and family.

Keep a lookout for the third part of the epilogue tomorrow at 6pm EST/ 10am NZST on Chelle’s blog!

Since the wedding was fast approaching, Evie found she could barely walk through the manor without being accosted by someone to discuss details. Whether it was her mother bringing up flowers, the cook bringing up menu items, Lydia bringing up her dress and hairstyle... truly, not an hour went by in which she didn’t answer questions or make decisions about her wedding.

It was quite exhausting.

Which is why, as she arrived back home after her visit with Joey, she crept in as quietly and discreetly as she could. There was one person, and one person only, she wanted to run into right now.

And she had a feeling she knew where he was...

After inching the door closed behind her so as not to make any noise whatsoever, Evie tiptoed toward the library, making sure to stay on the carpet and avoid the creaky floorboards.

A flash of white caught the corner of her eye, most likely the cook’s apron, so Evie dashed behind an open door to hide from view.

“Daniel,” she heard the cook ask the footman by the front door. “Has Miss Evie returned yet? I want her to taste the cake I’m testing out for the wedding.”

Evie held her breath, knowing Daniel had just seen her sneak in. He also had to have seen her scurry behind the door, so it was only a matter of seconds before her cover was blown.

But, to her joyful surprise, Daniel replied with, “No, ma’am, I haven’t seen her.”

As the cook let out a somewhat annoyed sigh, Evie truly had to hold herself back from exclaiming with relief. And also squealing.

As soon as she heard the retreating footsteps of the cook, Evie poked her head out from behind the door. Daniel was watching the cook leave, and once she’d turned the corner, he swung his head around to make eye contact with Evie.

Evie mouthed a ‘thank you’, and Daniel simply nodded with a tiny grin on his lips.

She stepped back out into the hallway, staying on her toes as she hopped quickly to the library.

Without even looking inside to make sure Yongguk really was in there, Evie hurried past the door and hastily shut it behind her. She turned, leaning back against the solid oak and exhaling deeply.

“Evie,” a deep (and very familiar) voice said, startling her just enough to make her jump. “Are you all right?”

Evie hopped to attention, straightening up and searching the room until her eyes landed on her fiance sitting in one of the armchairs.

“Oh!” she breathed. “Yes -- Yes, I am fine, I just -- I was trying to avoid... It doesn’t matter. I was looking for you.”

Yongguk’s forehead wrinkled just slightly, and he set the book currently in his hands down on the side table next to him.

“Well, you have found me,” he murmured as he stood up. “What do you need?”

Before he could make his way over to her, she made her way over to him. He reached his hands out for her, and she slipped her fingers into his palms with a soft grin.

“I just... I do need to talk to you about something, but right now, I am just... happy to see you.”

Evie had been quite anxiety-ridden on her walk back from the village, but one look at Yongguk’s incredibly handsome face had calmed her down instantly. How could she have been so nervous? Even though she’d only known Yongguk for a few months, she knew he would be by her side -- physically and emotionally. Literally and figuratively.

A smile broke out onto his lips, and Evie’s heart jumped into her throat at the sight of it. He had the most wonderful smile she’d ever seen in her entire life.

“I’m happy to see you, too,” he replied as he squeezed her fingers. He then brought one of her hands up to his lips and placed a very soft, delicate kiss on her knuckles. “What have you been up to this afternoon?”

“Ah... yes,” Evie said quietly. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Sort of.”

Yongguk’s brow furrowed again, and he led her over to a nearby loveseat. He didn’t let go of her hands; in fact, he only held them tighter.

“I... Well, you see,” Evie began, perched on the edge of the cushion and avoiding eye contact. “I went to speak with Joey -- Well, first, I spoke with Cassie who told me to also talk to Joey, and that’s where I just came from. Her cottage in the village.”

Yongguk simply nodded.

“I... Please, do not take any offense to this whatsoever. I am just... a bit... nervous about starting our new life together.”

Almost instantly, Yongguk scooted closer to her. “Of course, you are. It’s going to be an incredibly enormous change for you. I would be surprised if you weren’t nervous.”

Even just hearing him say that made her feel a bit better.

“Joey suggested I talk to you, so... here I am,” she said with a meek chuckle.

“Good,” he murmured, keeping his voice low so only she could hear -- even though they were the only ones in the closed-off room. “I would like -- I wish for you to feel comfortable enough to talk to me about... anything. I know you’ll be leaving your family behind, and you’ll only have me -- at least, until you get to know your new ladies’ maid and the other staff and people from the village. I don’t want you to feel... stifled. Or lonely.”

Evie couldn’t help but grin, and she slipped her hands free from his so she could lean into him, sliding her arms around his middle and fitting her head into the crook of his neck.

She heard a deep, quiet chuckle vibrate in his chest, and then she felt the warmth of his arms as he returned her embrace.

“I won’t be lonely,” she assured him with a small shake of her head. “Though... I will bring at least one trunk-load of books with me, just in case.”

Yongguk’s chuckle turned into a more hearty laugh at that, and the sound of it filled Evie’s heart and lungs with pure joy.

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping you away from your books, my love,” he answered. “I will make as much room as you need for them. We can sanction a room to be your own personal library if you’d like.”

Evie gasped, lifting her head to look him in the eye. “Are you quite serious?” Her own personal library?!

Yongguk nodded, brows raised as he gazed her with an extremely serious expression. “Of course.”

And now Evie wondered why she’d ever been nervous in the first place.

She let out a soft squeal of excitement before practically throwing herself at him, pressing her smiling lips to his and kissing him over and over.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she mumbled.

And now Yongguk wondered why he hadn’t brought up the idea of a personal library much, much earlier.

Ever since Evie had closed the front door behind her, the wheels in Joey’s head had been turning.

Not about Evie’s predicament, though. She was incredibly confident her advice was just what her older sister had needed to hear, so she was no longer worried about that.

No, Joey was thinking about the other topic they had discussed.

The orphanage.

Admittedly, Joey had been trying desperately to fill her time with activities around the house, and... it hadn’t been working. When Evie suggested volunteering at the local orphanage, Joey had thought it was a good idea almost immediately.

But, the more she pondered... the more she knew it was an excellent idea.

And, by the time Brian arrived home after the school day ended, Joey practically pounced on him.

“I’ve got extremely exciting news!” she cried, her eyes wide and sparkling vivaciously.

“I do, too!” Brian replied. “I’m home!”

Joey immediately paused, her mouth still open as she had just been about to tell him her exciting news.

She stayed frozen for a few moments before replying to him. “...Well, yes. That is very exciting. I missed you terribly, and I’m glad you’re home.”

Brian beamed with pride as he set his briefcase down and loosened his tie. “I missed you, too, my darling.”

He leaned in for a kiss then, but Joey flung her arms out to stop him. “Wait!” she cried. “I need to tell you my exciting news!”

Brian chuckled softly, still leaning in for his kiss before saying, “All right, let’s hear it. What’s your exciting news?”

Joey didn’t even start leading him into the living room so they could have a nice cup of tea before supper. She couldn’t wait any longer, so she came out with it immediately.

“Evie came to see me, and when she saw I had stooped to embroidery to fill my time -- it’s very well-known I am quite awful with a needle -- she suggested I start volunteering at the orphanage, and I think it’s a wonderful idea, and I’m going to go there tomorrow to see how I can help!”

Brian’s head jerked back in surprise, and a look of slight confusion came across his features. “Volunteer at the orphanage?”

“Yes! Don’t you think it’s perfect? I’m sure they need loads of help, and I’ve got loads of time and loads of energy.”

“Well, that is true.”

“See?! So, I’m going there tomorrow, and I will tell you all about it when you get home.”

A soft smile tugged at Brian’s lips, and he leaned in to place a kiss on Joey’s forehead. “I can’t wait,” he replied.

“Me neither,” Joey agreed with almost a squeal in her voice. “Now. You tell me all about your day.”

The couple spent the rest of the evening in their typical way: discussing the events of the day over dinner, engaging in more conversation over tea and biscuits in the living room, and then talking even more as they readied for bed.

With two people as talkative as they, it’s not a wonder they spent nearly all their time together in conversation.

Joey was the first to awake the next morning, and quite surprisingly, she got out of bed and began to get ready almost immediately. As active a person as she was, Joey was rather lazy -- but only in the mornings. She tended to stay in bed until she knew the cook would absolutely get cross with her for leaving breakfast out too long.

But this morning, she was too excited for her first day of volunteering.

Brian, of course, remarked upon it and began teasing her as soon as he arose -- though, Joey wouldn’t have expected anything less. His provoking nature had been what attracted her to him in the first place, after all.

They followed their typical morning routine of eating breakfast together, and Joey saw Brian off with a kiss at the front door, as she usually did.

But then, when she could no longer see him from the stoop, she went inside and retrieved her coat. She slid it on, letting out a somewhat shaky, anxious breath... and then she left.

The orphanage wasn’t extremely far; close enough to walk, though not quite close enough to be able to walk when it was raining. Thankfully, the sun was already low in the sky, shining warmly.

She greeted her fellow villagers as she passed them in the street, smiling and inquiring after their families. It hadn’t taken her too long to realize she actually preferred living in the village rather than back at the manor, away from the hustle and bustle of country town life.

Or maybe she simply preferred being married and living with Brian than she did living with her family.

Either way, the sense of contentment and happiness Joey felt these days was immense.

When she arrived at the orphanage not twenty minutes later, Joey let out another nervous exhale before reaching up and twisting the large, brass doorknob.

The nun sitting in the front office rose immediately, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “My lady,” she greeted. And then she stopped abruptly, obviously remembering her manners and dipping into a low curtsy.

“Oh, please, just Joey is fine,” Joey told her with a chuckle. “Or Josephine, if you prefer. I married a valet who is now a teacher, I hardly think the ‘Lady’ is applicable.”

And that is exactly how she liked it.

The nun stood up straight, a meek smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Josephine,” she amended, though it sounded like it took a great deal of effort to do so. “What can I help you with?”

“First of all,” Joey began. “What is your name?”

“Oh! I am Sister Agnes, my la -- Josephine.”

“Sister Agnes! It is a pleasure to meet you. Now, I do not need any help from you -- I would like to know if you need any help from me. I would like to volunteer my time!”

Sister Agnes’ eyes widened. “Y--you would like to... v--volunteer? Here?” she stammered.

“Yes, indeed! Please, give me first my task. I am quite eager to do whatever needs doing.”

Sister Agnes explained she would fetch Sister Daphne, the head nun of the orphanage, so to speak. Sister Agnes dealt more with the administration side and, so, did not feel she had the authority to assign Joey to any sort of job.

When Sister Daphne appeared a few minutes later, she took Joey back into the orphanage, giving her a tour and explaining their daily schedule.

The tour ended in the girls’ bedroom, a large room on the second floor with more than several beds lining the walls. Sister Daphne explained there was not enough time and not enough hands to help the girls thoroughly groom themselves, so Joey’s first task would be helping some of the girls brush their hair and teaching them how to brush their teeth and wash their hands.

Joey nodded, a beaming smile curving on her lips because that sounded incredibly easy! She’d been watching her ladies’ maid brush her hair all her life, and she certainly brushed her teeth and washed her hands every day.

As soon as Sister Daphne left the room, about five of the girls came rushing up to Joey’s side, clinging to her skirts and all asking her questions at the same time.

...Oh, dear. What had she gotten herself into?

Brian was incredibly surprised to open the front door to an empty entryway. He had been expecting a greeting much like yesterday’s: Joey standing there waiting for him, blurting out excitedly before he even had a chance to close the door behind him.

But she wasn’t there.

“Joey?” he called out as he set his briefcase down by the small coat closet.

“I... I’m in the living room!” her slightly hesitant voice replied from down the hallway. “Come in and have some tea, my love.”

Brian furrowed his brow as he headed toward the living room, growing increasingly worried at Joey’s behavior. She was very rarely hesitant, and she told him often how greeting him at the door was one of the best parts of her day.

What exactly was going on?

As soon as he arrived in the doorway, Joey turned in her chair to face him, a soft grin on her lips.

“Welcome home,” she said gently.

...A soft grin? Gently?

Was Joey... all right?

“Thanks...” Brian replied cautiously. He stepped inside the room and slid into the chair next to her. He watched her carefully as she poured him a cup of tea, murmuring his thanks when she handed it to him.

“How was your day?” she asked with slightly raised eyebrows.

“It was fine,” he answered. “What about yours? How was the orphanage?”

He was incredibly confused as to why she hadn’t immediately told him all about it when he’d opened the front door.

“Oh, it was lovely,” Joey told him. “I met Sister Agnes and Sister Daphne, I got a tour of the place, I helped some of the girls learn how to properly wash their hands and brush their teeth. I even got to brush their hair for them. They were quite delightful.”

Brian opened his mouth to ask her if things had really been lovely because -- well, why wasn’t she gushing and being overly dramatic about everything? This certainly wasn’t the Joey he knew.

But then she let out a frustrated huff and set down her teacup.

“Oh, all right!” she exclaimed. “I can’t keep it in any longer!”

Aha. Here we go!

“I formed a bond with one of the girls, in particular -- Daisy. She’s six-years-old, and her parents both died of influenza two years ago, and she has the most beautiful ginger hair -- but that’s not exactly the point, I just spent a lot of time getting all of the knots out, and it was enormously pretty once I did. But, anyway! There’s just something about her -- something in her eyes, maybe. I don’t know! But I know every time I look at her, my heart aches and the pit in the bottom of my stomach gets larger, and I truly almost cried when I left today, and I think we should adopt her.”

Thankfully, Brian had not been drinking his tea when she’d said this. If he had, he surely would have choked. He was holding his teacup, though, so he set it down as quickly and carefully as possible.

“Excuse me?” he chuckled. “You think we should -- what?”

“I know you’ll feel the same as soon as you meet her, Brian,” Joey assured him passionately, reaching her hands out and grasping his fingers. “And I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s what we are! We’re ridiculous! We hated each other, and then we decided to run away and get married in the span of about ten minutes! But we work! And Daisy -- I can just feel it. She belongs to us. She needs to belong to us.”

Brian still couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Joey, after spending literally one day volunteering at the orphanage, wanted to adopt a six-year-old girl?!

Joey obviously interpreted the confusion and shock on his face because she kept on talking, not allowing him a chance to say anything.

“She reminds me so much of myself when I was that age. She talks a mile a minute -- sometimes she even gets so off-topic she forgot how her sentence started, so she backtracks but then gets off-topic again. She adores running around outside, she speaks before she thinks, she’s impulsive --”

“All right,” Brian interrupted, snapping his head to look Joey in the eye.

“Wh-- really?!” Joey breathed. “All right?! All right as in ‘yes’?!”

Brian gazed into his wife’s eyes for a few moments before a smile tugged at one corner of his lips. And then he nodded.

“Yes.”

Joey launched herself at him, landing in his lap and throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, Brian, you are simply the best -- do you know how much I love you?!”

“Yes,” he chuckled as she peppered his face with kisses.

“I thought I would have to spend days convincing you!” she giggled after kissing his nose but before kissing his eyelid.

“All you had to do was say she reminded you of yourself,” he told her, his voice quiet and filled with adoration.

Joey stopped kissing him, pulling back slightly to look at him.

“That’s all I needed to know. If she’s anything at all like you, then you’re right. She belongs with us. We’ll go there tomorrow -- together.”

Joey’s eyes became glossy, filling with tears of joy before she leaned back in and kissed him. She kissed him softly but urgently, whispering against his lips how very dearly, truly, and deeply she loved him.

Brian felt exactly the same way, of course, and that’s why he trusted her. He trusted her implicitly and unconditionally. Even if she hadn’t said little Daisy reminded her of herself, he would’ve agreed to it. Because if Joey said the little girl belonged with them, then it was true.

And, in the back of his head, he knew he had to make the most of tonight. Because tonight was the last night ever -- the last night for the rest of their lives that they would be a family of two.

“Did you hear about Brian and Lady Josephine?” Lydia asked as soon as she stepped in the garage.

Seo Joon looked up, ceasing his arm momentarily. He was currently cleaning and waxing the car, preparing it for Evie’s transport to the church in a few hours.

“What about them?” he asked.

Lydia hurried over to him, and before she continued, she rose onto her toes and greeted him with a kiss.

“I can’t stay very long,” she whispered. “I’ve got to help Lady Evie get ready. But I’ve only just heard the news, and I wanted to tell you before anyone else did.”

“What news? What’s going on?”

Lydia smirked, and Seo Joon’s heart skipped a beat at how breathtakingly attractive she was.

“Well, Lady Josephine started volunteering at the orphanage a couple of days ago, upon Lady Evie’s suggestion... and now she and Brian have adopted a child!”

Seo Joon’s eyes widened immediately. “What?!”

“A six-year-old girl named Daisy!” Lydia giggled, nodding vigorously. “Can you believe it?!”

Seo Joon was about to answer that no, he could not believe it...

But he stopped himself.

Because this was Lady Josephine they were talking about.

“Actually... I can,” he said.

Lydia simply giggled again before saying, “I know, me too.”

A smile curved Seo Joon’s lips, and he leaned down to kiss her again. Just because.

“I must go back to Lady Evie,” she whispered. “And you must get the car looking absolutely gleaming for when you drive her to the church.”

“That I do,” Seo Joon murmured. But he kissed her once more for good measure before she scurried out of the garage and back into the house.

Evie was up in her bedroom waiting for Lydia, after all, her wedding dress hanging up and all of her jewel-encrusted pins laid out on her vanity. She was waiting to be transformed into a bride.

Part 3

45 notes · View notes

give-me-back-my-rhodey · 5 years ago

Note

Heard you were taking requests. Can you do Parksborn with 7.) Pining ?

Hi, sorry for taking so long on this! So here goes!

Changing Sides

“Peter. Peter. Are you… Peter!” Ned yells, turning to see at what Peter’s staring. “Oh not again. Peter!” He waves his hands in front of his friend’s face, causing Peter to start. “Come on. You know I support you in your quest to figure out your sexual identity, but seriously? Harry Osborn?”

“That’s Harry Osborn?” Peter wants to cry. Standing fifteen feet away is the most beautiful boy he has ever seen, and it turns out that the boy's father hates Tony Stark. Just. His. Luck. “Why does he have to be Harry Osborn?”

Ned shakes his head, “I think you’re cursed. Come on, we have to get to English class before Mr. Ainsley can give us detention.”

If you ask Peter what his English class was about, he wouldn’t be able to tell you because the only thing in his mind was the pretty face of a boy he could never love.

++++++

Harry saw the boy staring at him, and at first, he thought he had had something on his face. That kid was pretty cute, but Harry knows he can’t act on it. His father would never allow him to date a boy. Maybe they could just be friends…

Harry sees the boy again during lunch hour. It seems as if he is doing his best to not look in Harry’s direction. He nudges his best friend, Stella, “Hey, who's that?”

Stella’s long braids hit him in the face as she turns in the direction Harry motioned, “Peter Parker. Ultimate nerd. You’d like him. Why?”

��Dunno. Just wondering.”

Stella chomps on the end of her pen, eyeing him thoughtfully, “I think he’s adorable, too. It’s ok.” She grins.

“Stella. You can’t say that…” Harry hisses, running a hand through his dark hair. “You don’t know how much my father spies on me.”

“Right. Sorry,” Stella motions with her hand. “So what’s going on Saturday?”

“Nothing that I know of. Why?”

She hands him her phone, which shows an invitation to a party at Matthew’s. “You want to hit this up at some point tonight?”

“Sounds good to me.” Maybe it will take his mind off of that adorable brunet.

Harry likes Stella. They’re great friends. He knows his father approves of her as well and has made pointed hints towards him about dating her. Stella, however, does not date. She wants no attachments that are closer then friends, and she’s around for a good time. Feelings are icky to her, and he’s ok with that.

Stella agrees to help him find a cute girl to make out with so that he can take his mind off of the Parker boy. The duo arrive at Matthew’s party, and Stella leaves him for a few minutes to scan the scene. “I’m going to find you a few to choose from.” She winks.

Harry sticks his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans and scans the party. It’s nothing special, just your average high school party. Suddenly the DJ stops the music. “Hey look who’s just arrived. It’s Penis Parker!” The kid says. “I’m surprised you dared to show your face at a party after your last fiasco.” Everyone seems to turn towards the door.

Spinning quickly to face the door, Harry sees that Peter had, in fact, just came in with his friend. Parker briefly meets his gaze, but quickly hangs his head in embarrassment. His friend whispers something to him, and together they step into the crowd. The DJ still calls him out. “Really, Parker? Wow. I didn’t realize you had guts. Wait, let me call up Spiderman. Maybe he can remind us how much of a liar you are.” He starts a chant of “When I say Penis, you say" to which the crowd yells “Parker.”

Harry watches as Peter shakes his head. He’s close enough to hear the boy tell his friend. “Told you it’d be a bad idea.” Harry’s had enough. He marches up to the DJ and takes the microphone from his hand.

“Excuse me. Seriously? What did he do that’s so unforgivable?”

The DJ, Eugene Thompson if Harry’s memory serves correctly, smugly looks at him, “He told us all that he knew Spiderman. Lies.”

“And? You tell people your name is Flash, right Eugene? A little untruth now and then never hurt anyone. Cut the kid some slack, and return to your conversations or whatever.” Harry drops the mic and walks towards Peter.

++++++

Harry Osborn stood up for him! Peter can’t believe it. Everyone has stopped staring, and now Harry is walking towards him. Breathe Pete. Breathe. He tells himself.

“Hey, are you ok?” Harry asks him.

Peter stares at him. He’s so pretty. Then he realizes Harry had asked him a question. “Gah. I, uh, yes. I am fine. Thank you. I appreciate, um, you doing that.” Why can’t you talk normal?

“Hey, it’s no problem. Wanna hang out?” He directs the question towards Peter and Ned. “I’m Harry Osborn.”

“Peter Parker, and this is my best friend, Ned Leeds.” Peter inclines his head towards Ned. “You wanna?”

“Sure! It’s nice to meet you Harry.”

Harry introduces them to his friend Stella when she appears seemingly out of thin air. She tells him something quietly, and he nods. Soon after, he excuses himself, but not before exchanging numbers with promises to hang out later.

By the time May arrives to pick them up, Peter is ready to leave. He searches the party to find Harry – just to thank him for stopping Flash. He stops when he sees the boy in the corner, making out with two girls. Ah, ok. I thought he kind of liked me. Pete, your gaydar isn’t too good. He mentally groans. To avoid any suspicion, Peter walks casually around the room. He grabs Ned on his way to the door, “You ready?”

Ned turns away from the crowd in which he had inserted himself. “Yea, you find him?”

“yeah, I’m sure he doesn’t want me interrupting at the moment.” Peter angles his head minutely. Ned follows the direction and his eyes grow huge. He nods quickly and spins back to the group.

“Well, I have got to go, but it was great talking to you. Thanks, Matt, for the great party,” Ned tips his fedora and walks out after Peter. Outside, he pats Peter on the back and says, “Hey man, I’m sorry. I thought he liked you, too.”

“So, how was the party?” May asks. Ned enthusiastically replies, and Peter noncommitally agrees. He’s just hung up on a kid that he’s probably not supposed to like anyways, what with him being an intern to Stark Industries and Harry the son of Norman Osborn, president of Oscorp.

May and Ned keep up the conversation the whole way back to Ned’s house. After Ned is dropped off, Aunt May turns off the radio, looks at Peter, and asks, “Ok, who’s the boy?”

“what do you mean…?” May laughs at Peter’s innocent expression.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Peter,” She pats his arm. “I know the Parker look of pining. It’s written all over your face.”

Peter turns to face her, “Ok, so, did you ever like a guy, but he’s clearly not into you?”

“How do you know he’s clearly not into you?” May narrows her eyes.

“Well, I mean, he had his tongue down some girl’s throat,” Peter shrugs. “He’s really good-looking, though, and nice. I just wish…” He trails off. “Also, it’s probably for the best. Mr. Stark probably wouldn’t approve.”

May barks out a startled laugh, “And why would you worry about who Tony Stark approves of? You’ve seen all the people he’s dated.”

“This guy is Norman Osborn’s son…”

“Well,” May looks at him…. Until the cars behind her start honking because the light is green. “ Well, if you like him, clearly he’s nothing like his father. If Tony disapproves, I’ll talk to him.”

Peter shakes his head, “It doesn’t really matter because he doesn’t like me like that.”

May only smiles and turns the radio back on.

++++++

“Sir, your father would like to see you,” Aidy, a maid, tells Harry when he returns home from the party.

Harry sighs, but makes his way to Norman’s study. “Hello Father.”

“Harrison, take a seat,” Father gestures at a chair with his glass of Scotch. “I need to talk to you about your friends. Here, take some.” He pours Harry a finger of amber liquid.

“What’s wrong with Stella? I thought you liked her,” Harry queries.

“No, no, I’m talking about that Parker kid that you stood up for tonight. You don’t like him, do you?”

Harry wishes he had never told his father about his sexuality, although he’s pretty sure Norman would find out from at least one of his many spies. Here comes another “Real men aren’t gay” speech. “No, Father.” Harry lies.

“Well, my sources tell me the kid came out privately to a few of his close friends and family. Maybe we can use that to our advantage. He clearly likes you.” Father shows him a picture of Peter staring off to the side. Harry knows he’s looking at him.

“But you said…”

“Quiet, boy. There’s no harm in a little pretending, if needs be. Look, don’t even go that far if you have to, but word is that Tony Stark is going to release something that will change this industry forever. I just need to know ahead of time. Keep him from monopolizing,” Norman can see his son getting uncomfortable. “And, I will accept you as my son.”

Harry’s eyes shoot up. He had thought he would never get his father’s approval for anything like this. “Ok Father. I will try.”

“Harrison. Don’t fail me.” Norman throws back the rest of his Scotch before gesturing towards the door.

Harry nods and whips out his phone. Hey, nix that “find me a girlfriend” plan. He knows Stella is on the look for some pretty girl who will knock his socks off.

Ok… curious to know why. Explain at lunch tomoro? Stella replies. Harry texts her back with a thumbs up. He heads off to bed with pictures of a certain brunet in his head.

Harry wakes up in the morning with a purpose. Norman actually joins him for breakfast – something his father hasn’t done since Harry’s mother died.

Stella swipes him to the side once he arrives at school. “Ok what’s going on?”

“I’m not trying to date any girls. I like Parker.”

“And your dad?” Stella gives him a look.

“He’s ok with it. So I’m not going to question.” Harry knows this is only a half truth, but he wants Stella to have plausible deniability.

Stella shoots him another look. “Sounds fishy, but whatever. I’ve been meaning to hang out with Chelle for a while now.”

Harry doesn’t know who Chelle is, but he doesn’t care. Stella can have other friends. “Ok cool! Meet for lunch?” Stella fist pumps him and heads to her locker.

All throughout the morning, Harry plans how he will approach Peter. When lunch break comes, he gets in the cafeteria line with Stella, but his eyes are roving the tables. When he finds Peter's, he takes his tray over and asks, “Mind if I sit here?”

He feels giddy when he sees Peter’s eyes widen, “Um yeah! I mean, no, no, I don’t mind.” He gestures helplessly at the table.

Harry takes the seat beside Peter, and Stella sits beside MJ. “Chelle! I was telling Harry I needed talk to you.” Stella tells her.

“Este. Good to see you, too.” MJ smiles at her.

Este? Chelle? Harry mouths at Stella, and she pointedly ignores him. He turns to Peter, “So what are you doing tonight?”

“I have the Stark internship I gotta go to,” Peter replies.

They sit there talking, and Harry knows he really likes Peter.

++++++

A few weeks go past, and Peter has been spending a lot of time with Harry. He knows he has a huge crush on the Osborn, and he feels slightly guilty about it. He thinks he should tell Tony and get his opinion.

To Peter’s surprise, Tony shrugs, “If you like him, then he’s nothing like his father. Why don’t you invite him and Ned to the Tower for a game night?” Peter couldn’t be happier.

The two readily agree, and once this night was a hit, Harry, Peter and Ned spend a lot of time with Tony. In fact, the only one more excited than Tony when Harry asked Peter on a date was Peter.

Harry tells Peter about his relationship with his father, and Peter tells Harry how Tony had quickly become his father figure. Peter knows Harry couldn’t care less about science, and it warms his heart when Harry asks him to explain what he’s doing with an experiment. In turn, he makes sure he listens when Harry gets excited about a new car or fashion item. Things are going great.

++++++

Harry feels like a piece of crap. He knows he should come clean to Peter. His father contacts him frequently for information. But he knows as soon as Peter and/or Tony finds out his original reason to get close to them.

He hasn’t told Norman anything, and now he doesn’t want to. Tony helped him realize that some fathers are just shitty, and he shouldn’t have to strive for their attention. Over the four months Harry has been in contact with Tony, he has been more of a father to him than Norman had ever been.

As he is debating this in his head, someone walks in his apartment. It’s Norman. “Hello?”

“It has been four months Harrison. What do you have for me?”

“Father, it’s nice to hear from you, too,” Harry scoffs. “I have changed my mind. I’m not helping you with this.”

“Harrison,” his father warns.

“I’m serious. I actually like him, Father, and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that.”

Norman’s laugh resounds through the room, “And what do you think that dear, innocent boy will do once he finds out the only reason you started dating him was to spy on his mentor’s company? Trust will be severed forever. Listen to me, boy, you are being stupid, and I will not let an Osborn lose all his manly qualities for love. You are sixteen, and I have decided that you will no longer live in this apartment.”

“I bought this with my trust fund.”

“I have ties to the owner. Trust me, you won’t be able to find lodging anywhere in Manhattan.” Norman smirks.

“I’m not helping you. Besides, they haven’t told me anything. Everything happening at SI doesn’t get discussed around the family dinner table. Now please leave.” Harry herds Norman towards the door. “Bye Norman.”

++++++

“I’m sorry, man. You guys were really great together. I wouldn’t want to tell you except I felt like I should.” Annamarie tells Peter. “My family lives on the same floor as Harry.”

Peter’s world feels shattered. Harry doesn’t like him. He’s using Peter to find out Stark Industries’ new product line. Norman Osborn has stooped to new lows apparently. Peter feels like everyone is looking at him. He just wants to melt into the floor. Why did he ever think someone like Harry would actually like him? Peter scoffs. And there Harry is at his locker.

“Hey, Peter,” Harry’s face lights up when Peter reaches him. “Walk you to class?”

“Thanks Harry, but you should probably get to yours. What is it, acting? You need some work on that. Also, just so you know. We’re through,” Peter pulls his history book from his locker and heads off to class.

Peter avoids Harry the rest of the day. He’s going to get his education, no matter what someone will try to do to him. Once school is out, Peter heads straight to Stark Tower. Taking one look at his face, Tony sets down his work and gives Peter his full attention. When Peter’s tearful rant is over, the billionaire pulls him into a hug, “You know, I’m usually good at reading masks, and I thought he was genuine. He’s good. He duped us all.”

++++++

“Ned, can you please help me?” Harry pleads. “I love Peter.”

Ned shakes Harry’s hand off his shoulder. “I don’t want to hear it. You knew what Peter was like, and you chose to take advantage of it. Stay away.”

Harry sags. He really screwed this up. Someone clears their throat. It’s Stella. “Seriously man? This is an all-time low.”

“Stella. Norman told me that if I manipulated Peter into handing over SI secrets, he would finally call me son. And he gave me permission to date him. You know how Norman has always said about gay men not being real men so I jumped at it because I did and still do like Peter. I didn’t think it through, obviously, because if I did, I would’ve known this would happen.”

Stella sighs, “Look, man, I’m still your friend, but I don’t want to talk about this. Why don’t we go to my house and steal my parents’ booze and get wasted?” Harry agrees.

++++++ Peter doesn’t do anything except go to school and patrol. He wants to be left alone. His family and friends follow his wishes, letting him know they are there if he needs them.

One Saturday morning, May rushes into his room. “You need to look at this.”

Harry is plastered all over social media. Peter clicks on a video, “Hey, Peter. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I just want to come clean with the truth. Yes, Norman Osborn did enlist me to either be your friend or date you to try to extract information about the new rumored Stark Industries product line. I agreed because for one, I wanted to spend time with you; for two, Norman Osborn is a grade A, certified dick. He never calls me son, and he ingrained a slight homophobia in me since I was young. When he gave me permission to date you and a ‘rightful’” Harry uses finger quotes, “place in the family, I thought I could kill two birds with one stone. Then I fell in love with you. And Mr. Stark showed me that it wasn’t my fault Norman was like that, it is his own, and I’m better off without him. I want you to know that I have cut him out of my life. I am now relying on my trust fund and the hope of finding a job. I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but I just wanted you to know the truth. And I swear to you, I never found out anything, and I never reported to him.” The video cuts off.

“Thanks for showing me,” Peter whispers. “I don’t know what I am going to do.”

May takes his hand, “Peter. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. You have to figure out what’s best for you. Even if you still love him, if you think you shouldn’t be with him, you don’t have to be with him. Now, I’m sure he won’t wait for you forever, but you have time.”

“Thank you May. I’ll dwell on it,” He hugs her.

++++++

Three weeks have gone by, and Harry hasn’t heard from Peter or his friends. He got an internship at Van Dyne fashion, and he’s getting by.

Harry is leaving school to head toward his new job when Peter stops him. “Hey can we talk?” Peter asks him.

“Yea sure!” Harry doesn’t know why Peter would want to talk to him, but he’s willing to hope.

“So, I saw your video, and I gave myself time to think it over. Um, do you still want to be with me?”

Harry smiles. “More than anything.”

“I am willing to try again, but it might take me a while to trust you completely. And I don’t want to talk about work around you for a while.”

“I understand,” Harry nods. “I screwed up. Can I ask – what does Tony have to think about all this?”

“Believe it or not, he defended you a little bit,” Peter nudges him. “He said he may have done the same thing, were he in your shoes. Apparently, daddy issues are not uncommon and cause a lot of confusion in people’s lives. Are you going to Van Dynes?”

“Yea. Care to walk with me?”

~Fin

#tw: homophobia #parkborn #pining #ficlet turned fic #i write!#hope you enjoy it

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jackiejacks923 · 5 years ago

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NYE

Summary: Just a NYE wedding…that’s all….

Pairing: Shownu x reader

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!! Wishing you all the best of everything this life can offer in this new year. This is just a little piece that @prettywordsyouleft had put in my head and said I should write. I hope you enjoy!

——-

New Year’s Eve. A day that was celebrated in so many different ways in your life. In your youth, you remembered it as an excuse to stay up way past your bedtime to make as much noise as possible to ring in the new year. In your teenage years, you experienced that first New Year’s kiss with the boy that would eventually break your heart, which would lead to many New Year’s Eves you would spend on your own in your pajamas.

Until that fateful New Year’s Eve when your BFFs dragged you out of your funk to set you up on a blind date with their significant others’ friend, Hyunwoo. It was awkward at first, but his gentleman-like tendencies had you warming up to him and attempting to draw him out of his shell. When the countdown started and couples began to kiss at the stroke of midnight around you, you looked up at him smiling, still contemplating if you should or shouldn’t. His lips then met yours as you were still lost in your thoughts and you felt that zing. A zing that would change you forever. A zing that he felt, as well, that told him he wanted to be the only man you kiss ever again.

That zing was the reason he stayed by your side every day since that day. After two Christmases spent together, he popped the question to be by your side forevermore. And here you were a year after his Christmas proposal on New Year’s Eve, your wedding day, hours before the countdown.

You both wanted a simple beach wedding, but in order for that to happen in the winter, you had to plan for a destination wedding. That is how you found yourselves in separate hotel rooms in Hawaii with only a handful of family and the closest friends joining you in celebrating your nuptials. Your guests were currently enjoying dinner and music underneath a canopy on the beach as the cool, salty ocean breeze blew around them before the actual ceremony. Dinner for you and your groom were served in your respective quarters with your wedding party accompanying each of you.

Your hair had been did and make-up done. You stared at your wedding present to your future husband in your hand with your personal note while pictures were being taken to capture the memories being made this night. Like the time this watch keeps, as is my love for you…everlasting, your note read. You handed off your gift to your maids of honor, Tani & Chelle, to deliver to your groom.

“Thank you,” you expressed to them as you smiled brightly. At that same moment, there was a knock on the hotel door. Tani answered it and discovered Hyunwoo’s best men, who also happened to be her and Chelle’s husbands, Hoseok and Kihyun, there with a delivery of their own. They each greeted their wives with a kiss as they entered the room.

“You look amazing, Y/N,” Hoseok commented as he walked over to give you a hug.

“Here, this is from Hyunwoo,” Kihyun said as he handed you the tiny box he had in his hands. You opened it to discover a beautiful diamond star necklace with a blue sapphire in the center. Hoseok handed you an envelope and with that, they took their cue to exit and accompany Tani & Chelle on their delivery mission to Hyunwoo, as well as to check that everything is going well at the pre-reception party.

You opened the envelope and inside you found a note with Hyunwoo’s handwriting. Like this star you continue to be the light that shines brightly in my life, lighting up even the darkest of corners. I can’t wait to start my forever with you. You smiled as you placed the note back and pulled the necklace out of the box as you placed it around your neck to wear. It was the perfect “something blue” you needed.

You took a picture of the necklace around your neck and sent it to Hyunwoo. Thank you! It’s perfect ❤.

Moments later your phone pinged. It looks beautiful on you. I love the watch. I’m wearing it tonight too ❤. A pic of his wrist adorned with the watch and his hand throwing up the thumbs-up sign followed shortly after.

You smiled at your phone. Honey, I’m nervous 🙁 I need a hug right now.

Shall we ignore superstition? I’ll be there in one second if you want.

I think maybe we should’ve just eloped.

I would’ve been OK with doing that, too. Shall I go get a taxi for the airport?

But everybody spent money to get here to celebrate with us.

Baby, I’m sure they’ll forgive us…eventually. So long as you’re happy and I grow old with you, it doesn’t matter to me.

I’m just being impatient. I haven’t seen you all day.

I miss you too 😘

You and Hyunwoo texted back and forth talking about everything under the sun to pass the hours away as you both waited to be reunited. It was one of his super powers you knew he had. He was always able to calm you down when things started to get overwhelming for you.

Tani & Chelle returned from checking on the guests.

“Y/N, are you ready? It’s time!” Tani stated excitedly. You nodded with a smile.

The girls are back. It’s time! I’ll see you soon. You quickly texted Hyunwoo.

I’ll be the one in the suit that can’t stop smiling 😁.

I’ll be the one in white trying not to run down the aisle ❤.

You placed your phone on the table in the room as Chelle handed you your bouquet and your two BFFs assisted you as you made your way to your waiting groom.

You had timed it just right. 30 minutes before the stroke of midnight the wedding march to start the ceremony began. Hyunwoo made his entrance first looking sharp in his white and black suit with Hoseok and Kihyun following behind him in their matching white suits with rose gold accents. Then entered the ring bearer, Chelle and Kihyun’s son, in a suit matching his father’s with a serious face as he focused on balancing the rings on the white satin pillow. Following him came the flower girl, Tani and Hoseok’s daughter, smiling in her blush pink dress adorned with white flower accents as she tossed flower petals like she practiced for so many weeks. Tani and Chelle then made their entrance side by side in their pink and white floral dresses.

The music then started to cue your entrance. You opted out of the traditional Here Comes the Bride song that every bride had walked down the aisle to. Hyunwoo’s friend, Minhyuk, had so kindly agreed to sing as you walked to your future husband. As he sang The Rest of My Life, you focused on Hyunwoo and tried not to cry. You have never seen a smile so big on his face than you did on this night. It made you smile just as brightly. You couldn’t help but thank your two lucky angels that were at their designated spots to stand beside you as you took each step forward to the happiest chapter of your life. As you continued on your journey down that, what felt like a never ending aisle, it truly felt like it was just you and him in the world at that moment. Nothing else mattered, but trying to reach him. You weren’t lying about wanting to run to him when you texted him, but you had to keep that cursed pace to the music.

As Minhyuk ended the chorus, you finally reached Hyunwoo. He took your hand in his and as you looked up at his smiling face, you noticed a stray tear on his cheek. You smiled up at him as you wiped it off his cheek with your thumb, your own tears threatening to spill over, but you willed them back in their places.

The ceremony began with the blowing of the conch by the wedding officiant…you are in Hawaii, after all.

20 minutes to go as time continued to count down…

The officiant continued with his opening speech and then a reading of the excerpt from Plato’s Symposium, the myth and theory of love and soulmates that you’ve always held dear.

10 minutes to go…

You and Hyunwoo then exchanged your vows and “I do”s to be forever faithful, to be each other’s support, to be a constant friend, and to always love each other through the good and bad.

5 more minutes…

You both then exchanged wedding bands engraved on the inside with your special date.

3 more minutes…

The officiant then began his closing remarks of well wishes to the newlyweds and as he looked at his watch, he signaled the guests of the 1 minute mark.

Guests then readied themselves with the supplied confetti poppers. Kihyun and Hoseok made their way to their wives and children, holding them close as they anticipated the seconds. You looked up at Hyunwoo, tears of happiness now spilling from your eyes as he smiled back down at you.

“By the power vested in me,” your officiant stated.

“10 - 9 - 8 - 7…” your family and friends all chanted simultaneously in the background.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the officiant concluded.

“6 - 5 - 4 - 3 - 2…” the countdown continued.

“You may now kiss the bride!” he announced.

“1!” everybody screamed and yelled and cheered and set off the poppers.

Hyunwoo took you in his arms and kissed you right at the stroke of midnight memorializing the start of the new year as husband and wife. All those around you shared kisses with their partners and loved ones, but you were oblivious to it. The world around you disappeared from view and it was just you and him as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he continued to kiss you and pulled him in closer. And just like the many New Year’s Eve kisses of the past that you shared with him, the fateful zing was ever so present.

#new year new fic #a zing only happens once in your life #the rest of my life

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canadian-riddler · 5 years ago

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Portal: The Proposition

By Indiana

Characters: Wheatley, GLaDOS, Chell

Synopsis: If GLaDOS had focused on the right person, perhaps the entirety of Portal 2 could have been avoided…

Setting: Chapter 5: The Escape

It was the culmination of simply hours of work.

They’d shut off her neurotoxin. Swapped out her deadly turrets for crap ones. And now they had her back against the wall. Sort of. She didn’t really have a back, and she was in the middle of the room, and still moved about quite freely - or as freely as one could when attached to the ceiling - but still. They had her pinned. She was at their mercy! But they had none. So she was at their nothing.

“Go on,” he urged the test subject who was, as usual, taking her sweet time completing their plan. Honestly. How he had managed to get them here in the first place was simply a miracle. She was so inclined to just stand about, and glower, and wait for him to tell her which place to go or which thing to do or where to stand so that she could fail to catch him, and honestly, it was all very exhausting. Still. Here they were, with the mighty Central Core in their grasp. She would not be machinating her way out of this one! “Press it!”

“Don’t - wait,” GLaDOS said suddenly, and he heard her look up sharply. “Sphere.”

“...Yes?” Wheatley asked tentatively, unsure why she was paying him mind now. He was, you know, sort of stuck. On this stick. Waiting.

“Why are you here? And what are you doing with her?”

“Oh,” said Wheatley. “Um… bad news. All the other humans’ve got a pretty major case of… they’re dead. All the boxes of test subjects you’ve got stored in the back? All dead. She was the only one left. I dunno who she is. Didn’t even know you’d met before! She’s fairly brain-damaged, by the way. Not sure if she’s actually going to figure out how to press that button. Mostly likes jumping, good at jumping. This button may or may not be a bit beyond her.”

“I see,” GLaDOS said. “You know. I’ve just thought of something. Would you like to hear it?”

“Uh…” This seemed to be sort of a trick question. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, he would want to hear her out, but at the same time she was being quite reasonable. Much more so than all the time she’d spent on her nutty speeches about cake and computer parts. “Okay.”

“I have a proposition for you,” she said. “But in order to tell you what it is, I’m going to have to ask you to remove yourself from that port. As a gesture of mutual goodwill. You understand.”

Hm. Sounded like a trap, honestly. At the same time, though, he really wanted to know what the proposition was. Sounded interesting. Much more interesting than this sitting about waiting for the human to get around to button-pressing. “What sort of um, of proposition?”

“You’ll like it. I promise.”

“And you promise you won’t kill me, if I come off of here?”

“I promise,” GLaDOS told him, and she sounded so reassuring that he saw no reason for her to be lying. “I just want to discuss this like the mature, reasonable, intelligent people we are. Face-to-face. No killing or threatening with core transfers.”

Well, he was quite mature and reasonable and intelligent, himself, and so he removed himself from the port as she had asked and from one of the ceiling panels appeared a management rail for him to attach himself to. Ah, excellent! She was being quite a thoughtful host, actually. Out of the corner of his optic he saw the test subject’s hand slam down upon the button at last, but it was already receding into the floor and as a result quite useless. “Now,” GLaDOS said, again in that reassuring voice, “what, exactly, was your plan? After killing me, I mean. We can skip that part.”

“Well,” said Wheatley, “I dunno what her plan was, but I was trying to leave. A bit difficult when you’re um, when you’re stuck all the way out there with the smelly humans and the management rail just sort of runs ‘round in circles. Not much to do when there’s no power and ev’ryone’s dead, honestly. Oh! And the facility was going to explode! Nearly forgot about that. Definitely did not want to stick around for that bit. Would definitely rather live.”

“Is that all you wanted?” GLaDOS said. “Well. You should have just asked. Of course I’ll allow you to leave. In fact, I’ll do it right now.”

“Oh,” said Wheatley, a little surprised it had been this easy. “I… s’pose I could’ve thought of that. Though I didn’t know you were up for, y’know, talking. You always seemed more like the kill now, talk later type.”

“Little Sphere,” GLaDOS said, curving around behind him in sort of a maternal way, “you showed up with the human that killed me in tow. I’m sure if it had been me who appeared to be working with the very person who had heartlessly destroyed you, you would have done the same thing.”

“Probably,” admitted Wheatley, turning to look at her. “You sort of… sort of killed me before I could bring up that I don’t even know her, though. Honest! I don’t! She’s just, she’s the only one I could find still alive! Power outage got to all the rest.”

“You must have gone through a great deal all these years. Attempting to hold the facility together all on your own.”

“I have!” Wheatley blurted out. “And all the others, they didn’t even realise it! Just kept ragging on me about how I got the worst job. Kept saying it was because I was incompetent and stupid, can you believe that?”

“No,” said GLaDOS, shaking her core sadly. “I can’t.”

“They always gave me the worst jobs!” he continued. “‘Do that guy’s paperwork,’ they said. ‘Stare at this button and don’t press it,’ they said. ‘Make sure the computer keeps all those humans alive’, they said. Those bloody humans aren’t even still fresh! They’ve all gone rotten! Expired years ago! How’m I supposed to keep stale humans alive!? I’m not, I’m not a wizard!”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that now,” GLaDOS told him. “I’m back and I will take care of everything. As for you… well. I think you should finally get what you deserve.”

He perked up hopefully. “I’d love that, honestly. Bloody well earned it by now, I’d say.”

“You certainly have.” From beneath the floor came a lift, and as he watched the door slid open invitingly. “That will take you straight to the surface. No tricks.”

“Wait,” he said, frowning. “Didn’t you say this was a… a proposition? That’s a deal, yeah?”

“Oh,” GLaDOS said, a syllable of gentle dismissal, “all I want is to keep her.” She gestured her core in the direction of the test subject. “We have… unfinished business. And you won’t be needing her anymore.”

Wheatley shrugged. “Be good to be rid of her, honestly. D’you know I did all the work, getting us here? She couldn’t even shut off your turrets without my help. Useless, honestly. And she just frowns all the time. Unpleasant. We were s’posed to be a team, a bit of courtesy should’ve been extended. In. My direction. She was quite rude, s’what I’m trying to say.”

“Oh, I know,” said GLaDOS, who sounded like she did indeed know. “Now. Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

It seemed as good a time as any, so Wheatley allowed GLaDOS to remove him from the management rail with one of her claws and put him inside of the lift, after which she turned her attention to the human. She had finally stopped crinkling up her face and was now staring at him with a sort of… horrified expression. Oh, so now she was going to stop grimacing at him. Now, when he’d negotiated his exit by having a calm and reasonable conversation with GLaDOS instead of tramping all about her facility with the intent to kill her. Humans. Never thought of the obvious solutions.

“Now,” said GLaDOS with great relish as the door to the lift slid closed, “where were we…”

A couple of minutes later the door opened onto a great swath of wheat, and the jolt of the lift hitting the top of the shaft caused him to roll out into it. Behind him, he heard the heavy clang of a metal door slamming closed, and it was at this time he realised the biggest hole in his plan.

There were no management rails outside.

There appeared to be no ports, either, or other people, or anything really except for the tall stalks swaying above him and the great hot sun beating down upon his chassis. Oh, that wasn’t good. None of this was good. None of it at all.

“Hello?” he called as loudly as he could. “I’m sort of… I’m stuck. Is there any way we can, y’know, sort this out? Might I borrow some legs, or something? Just so I can get out of here. Sort of… sort of stuck. Right here. On the doorstep.”

It occurred to him that the test subject had legs, and quite sturdy ones too, but how was he to let her know he needed help? Or… or to get her to care, this time, since he’d...

Oh, bollocks.

“She tricked me,” Wheatley said to the wheat. “She bloody tricked me! She knew! She knew what she was sending me off to!”

And, worse, he had fallen for it. No, no. That wasn’t quite right. He closed his optic against the relentless, insufferable heat bearing down upon him.

He’d gotten what he deserved, exactly as GLaDOS had promised.

Author’s note

Wheatley has a voice line in which he says, “Oh! I’ve just had one idea, which is that I could pretend to her that I’ve captured you, and give you over and she’ll kill you, but I could go on… living. So, what’s your view on that?” This is, to me, a massive and obvious indicator that Wheatley does not care about Chell beyond serving his own interests and, if GLaDOS had offered, he would have happily sold her out in exchange for his own life. So that’s what they do here.

#Wheatley #GLaDOS #Chell #Portal 2 #fanfic from Indy #on AO3 and whatever too ofc just no links allowed

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forasecondtherewedwon · 6 years ago

Note

Spideychelle as parents?

Here it comes―the fluffnami I warned you all about on Monday. You’ve officially waited too long to seek higher ground. The fluff is coming.

Kid-Me-NotPairing: Peter x Michelle (Spideychelle), Ned x Betty (Netty Pot)Rating: T (a very smol swear)Word count: 2060

They think about moving every year, but so far they haven’t.Peter knows it’s both of them, not just him, because sometimes he catches hiswife staring at a particular facet of their apartment, and when she looks athim, he goes, “I know,” and she makes a face like it’s doubtful that he’s readher mind.

The farthest out of the city they get on a regular basis isBetty and Ned’s corner of suburbia. Peter likes the drive and his wife likesthe mature trees, but not the ‘1950s American Dream capitalist bullshit vibe,’as she calls it. She also likes the blonde-bricked houses and Peter takes hisfoot off the gas whenever they pass one so that she has longer to admire themwithout having to state her preference out loud.

A trip to the Leeds’s is a regular thing for them, thoughmore frequent once summer rolls lazily around again. Flo is five now and goesinto a streaming shrill vibration of excitement at the mention of a visit.She’s been raised to call the two Leeds kids her cousins. The drive is just farenough that it used to put her to sleep, but these days the sedative propertiesof the car ride are only powerful enough to lull her small body into a consciousdoze. She exists in this low-power mode with a hand propped under her chin anda serious expression as she gazes out the window, not really noticing theflowers in people’s gardens or the dappled light on the perfect grey curbs, andnot really caring about what she’s missed. Peter’s great delight of the driveis catching glimpses of her in the rear-view mirror.

“I brought club soda for Betty,” his wife remarks idly fromthe passenger seat. Briefly, he grins to himself, rubbing his lip with athumbnail. Her posture is so like their daughter’s and at this point, Petercan’t remember who picked it up from whom.

“That’s really nice of you,” he says. “I’m sure she’llappreciate that.”

She goes by ‘Chelle’ now, which he feels has the sort ofheart-wrenching elegance of a ballet every time he hears it. It’s so adult.Frequently, Peter forgets they are both 34.

Pulling into the driveway is the catalyst for thelast-minute divvying up of who’s carrying what out of the car and which ofFlo’s toys are to be left in the backseat so she won’t scream if the other kidsget a hold of them. (Peter has been diligently working on his daughter’sjealous phase, but prefers not to test her restraint on what will already be ahigh-energy day.)

Chelle and he forsake the formality of the front door infavour of the gate, going straight into the backyard. He and Ned built the gatethemselves and Peter gives it a fond pat on his way through. Flo has alreadyraced ahead; it’s pointless to try to carry her. When she was a toddler, therewas less kicking, but the second her feet were lowered to the ground, she tookoff like a released wind-up toy.

“Hi,” he says to Ned. “Hi,” to Betty. And they’re saying“hi” in return, and so is Chelle, and hi’s are basically flying through the airlike mosquitos.

Sure enough, there are mosquitos flying through the air aswell because Betty’s grown sensitive to the scent of the citronella candlesthey usually scatter around the outdoor living space. In his spare time,Peter’s been working on synthesizing a replacement that will repel pestswithout the distinctive odour.

Arms full of bags of hotdog buns and an entire case of clubsoda (seriously, Chelle could’ve just bought Betty a two-litre bottle. How muchdoes his wife expect her to drink?!), Peter uses his foot to close the gatebehind him, but not before Ned’s devious cat bolts.

“Ohmigodohmigod,” Ned mumbles, flustered, but Betty justtouches him on the arm and steps around him.

“PalPY!” she calls, high and clear.

Emperor Palpatine whizzes back into the yard and the crisisis over. Peter and Ned laugh to themselves, slapping each other on theshoulder. Chelle has spread her armload of offerings on the patio table andwrapped Betty into a hug like a favourite draping blanket. She’s not asqueezing kind of hugger, his wife, but the sort to relax fully into it like avertical trust fall. There are few people she hugs.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Ned declares when Peter hands over thehotdog buns.

“Man, don’t tell me…” Peter begs.

“Yep,” Betty chimes in. “He forgets to buy them every time.”

She bites into a strawberry from a fruit tray she’s justwhisked out of the house. Chelle selects a large cube of honeydew melon,furtively stuffs it into her cheek, then bends down to make their daughterlaugh with a chipmunk impression as Flo slingshots back to her parents in asudden fit of nerves. This happens when the cousins are reintroduced. Sheclings to her mother’s leg as her smile quickly springs back up―Chelle’sstroking her wavy hair.

“Peter expects it by now,” Ned asserts, indicating what hisbest friend of 20+ years has brought.

“Nah, contingency plan, dude,” Peter avows.

“MJ,” Ned says, using the name that’s never unstuck for him(in fact, he’s the only one who still uses it), “club soda? Lame.”

Chelle rolls her eyes as their daughter torpedoes away fromher, chasing her cousins to the back fence.

“It’s for your pregnant wife. Don’t be selfish.”

“He’ll appreciate it later when I’m not sprinting to thebathroom to throw up my hotdog,” Betty predicts.

“Hon, that is so freaking gross. So, who’s hungry?” Ned askswith a chuckle.

He retrieves a pair of beers from an open cooler, rocky withice cubes, and Peter follows him over to the barbecue. Betty is close behind.

“Ned,” she protests, “I can do it.”

“The smoke can’t be good for the baby.”

“The other kids turned out fine. Ned makes up new rules foreach child,” Betty informs Peter with a wry smile.

“Peter wouldn’t let me go out on the balcony when I waspregnant with Flo,” Chelle calls over from where she’s setting out cutlery.They always eat first. Many, many summer afternoons have established theirpriorities.

Peter throws up his hands, careful not to slop the drinkhe’s just opened.

“It stressed me out!”

Chelle shrugs and gives him a smug smile.

“You got used to it.”

“I had to. You started sitting out there every night whenyou were on the phone to Betty or May or your mom.”

She grins in remembered victory as Charlie hurtles intoPeter’s side.

“Hello,” says a kid with Betty’s hair and at least onemissing tooth.

“Hey, what’s up, buddy?” Peter squats and does theParker-Leeds handshake. It transcends generations now, which is pretty cool.

“Are you watching your sister?” Betty quizzes her.

“Yes,” says Charlie, three-year-old sister nowhere in hervicinity.

“Call her like you call the cat,” Ned suggests, attention onraising the lid of the barbecue to shuffle the meat around, burgers crumblingat the edges, hotdogs reluctant to lift from the grill.

“Ooh, do we think Daddy’s in trouble for that one?” Bettychecks with Charlie, who grins, swishing her neatly braided pigtails.

Their other child, Daisy, comes staggering through thegrass, hand clutched in Flo’s. Peter feels a thrill of pride, watching theirdaughter play the big sister.

“We’re going inside,” Flo announces. “Charlie has a newLego.”

“Awesome,” Peter tells Charlie, eyes lighting up. “How manypieces?”

“I might need to snag one of your club sodas,” Chelleinforms Betty. “I feel suddenly nauseous with déjà vu.”

The wives laugh hard at the expense of the nerds theymarried.

“But seriously,” Peter whispers. “How many?”

“One. Hundred. Seventy. Four,” Charlie says, enunciatingwith care to increase the impact of how impressive this is. He thinks she couldread the announcements when she gets to high school, like her mom did, butthat’s a ways off yet. The kid’s only seven.

Flo, tired of being in her father’s company yet not thecenter of his attention, falls dramatically onto his hunched back.

“Why is it called Legos.” She says it like a demand, not aquestion.

“Uh, I don’t know. Lemme look it up…”

Before he can get his phone from his pocket, the nextinquiry has left her mouth. He can see that the Lego investigation has beentemporarily derailed.

“Why is my name ‘Florence’?”

“This is her thing right now,” Chelle explains to theirfriends, shaking an open bag of pretzels in Betty’s direction. “Questioningwhat everything’s called.”

“I know this one,” Betty teases. Peter glances over hisshoulder to watch Flo’s eyes light up with curiosity. He rubs her warm forearm.“It’s because Uncle Ned and I, and your parents, went on a trip to a countrynamed Italy and, while we were there, they realized that they loved each other.Then,” she goes on (Peter can tell by his daughter’s face that she isenthralled), “your mom and dad went back there when they were grown up and theywere in a city called Florence when they decided to get married.”

“Because he asked her to?” Flo clarifies.

“That’s right,” Betty praises.

“Barely managed it,” Ned critiques under his breath.

“Thanks, pal,” Peter snarks back.

His best friend glances down at him and they share a grin,then Ned reaches out for Betty’s hand and reels her in to kiss her cheek.They’re romantics, both of them. Betty probably remembers the moment ofengagement better than either Peter or Chelle, and she wasn’t even there.

“Why is Mommy’s name ‘Chelle’?” Flo wonders.

Peter straightens up to grab a pretzel. He sets his beer onthe fold-out ledge of the barbecue, then picks up Daisy, who is looking forlorn,so far below the tall people.

“Michelle,” Chellereminds her. “That’s because Grandma watched too much Full House while she was waiting for me.”

“Where were you?” Charlie asks, confused.

“Still in her belly,” his wife explains. She points atBetty’s rounded stomach. “Like your brother.”

“Wha’ ‘bow you, Da’?” Flo asks, wandering back from thetable as she chomps a carrot stick smothered in probably too much ranchdressing.

Peter sticks his tongue out at Daisy to make her gigglebefore turning to his daughter with a confused frown.

“What about me?”

“Why is your name ‘Spider-Man’?”

Chelle howls with laughter while Peter attempts to handlethe situation. Ned and Betty have both known his secret for years (there areonly so many excuses he can give Betty for needing to abruptly leave theirhouse on foot with a ragged backpack), but Flo doesn’t really get thedifference between saying it in front of them and saying it to literally anyoneelse.

“Are we supposed to talk about that?” he tests her.

“No. I’ll only tell Charlie.” Quickly, she bounces to hercousin’s side and, over Charlie’s giggling, Peter hears Flo’s high voicesaying, “My dad’s Spider-Man.”

“That’s definitely talking about it,” he says.

“Ok,” she is quick to agree with a mischievous smile, “I’llonly tell Palpy.”

Flo darts off after the cat, who has decided on a franticrun across the yard. Charlie helpfully tries to copy her mother’s method ofcalling the cat, but Emperor Palpatine is not convinced by the imitation.

Peter spins Daisy around once before letting the toddlerinto the fray as well.

“She’s so much like you,” Betty observes to Chelle, watchingFlo track the cat with determination. “Brave, unstoppable.”

Ned snorts.

“Nah, she’s like Peter.”

“Watch it,” Peter warns jokingly, picking up his beer.

“I was gonna say because she has so much energy, dude, duh.”

“Well, that’s true,” Chelle says, walking to Peter andpropping her elbow on his shoulder. He holds her around the waist, longing tocradle her closer than social norms permit. “I don’t know what we’re going todo with two of them.”

For a moment, there is no sound but the sizzling hotdogs(Ned’s probably burning them―Betty is the true grill-master of the Leedsfamily) and the shouts of three little girls. Then, Betty’s delighted gasp andNed’s pure shriek of joy.

Peter’s beer sweats in his hand. He has never been happier.

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