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Summer bike stuff tag sale
Hello, friends! The endless purging of unused items continues. All prices are USD, and do not include shipping. All photos at the bottom of the post. How this works (PLEASE READ!) Domestic shipping will start at $6 USD and go up from there, depending on what and how much you get. We are only selling to US addresses. Local contactless pickup can be arranged (around Mount Tabor in Portland), but…
#big mut#bikepacking bag#Carradice#handlebar#items for sale#kryptonite keeper#portola#randi jo fab#saddlebag#sale#salsa anything cages#shifter#soma#tag sale#treetop goods
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What sort of occupation do you think Norman would like?
Because I 100% agree he should not be a CEO
[Offshoot of this post]
I'm very biased by @officersnickers and @salsae and either see him as a doctor of some sort (default to pediatrician) or a university professor/researcher. Something that can incorporate his affinity for mathematics and science, provide him with mental stimulation and challenges, and allow him to achieve recognition on a global stage if he so desires without throwing away his empathy and humanity.
(Chapter 85 Bonus Comic | Mystic Code Book Chapter 7 Q&A)
I feel like that last element is a big thing for a lot of people given what he went through at Lambda. The worst year and some odds month of his life had him isolated away from his family in a cage, alone, and he suffered greatly for it.
It's an idea that's illustrated so poignantly in the chapter 128 cover art. Ray has become so much warmer and devoted to his friends and family after being afforded the chance to hope "for a future that is like a dream" and to care for them openly under Emma's tutelage, heart a wellspring of love and empathy. They're all shaping each other while he's left to wither, and the cunning and ruthlessness that save him almost lead him to a point irrevocable (by the narrative's standards; for some, he passes it).
(Chapter 181.4)
It's hard to ascertain what capacity a CEO operates in in this future, what ethical standards there are and what boundaries he sets for himself on top of the vast range of industries they dabble in, but that he's tied up in it at all with all the negative connotations surrounding the role and potential exploitation involved after overturning fate itself and restructuring a world order leaves a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths, even with the simplicity and flexibility it affords in explaining away financial woes.
With a doctor, teacher, or any career without that level of baggage, there's the opportunity for him to incorporate his interests and be met with engaging challenges while simultaneously tempering that ruthlessness via establishing interpersonal relationships and working toward a collective, communal good. The possibilities for him are endless, but that's what I like for him since he holds Emma as his guiding star.
(Chapter 14)
For Emma, I've seen multiple instances of her being a teacher, especially one who works with young children due to how wonderful she is at understanding and empathizing with people, but she also has the tenacity to become a political activist or some other role of leadership.
(salsae's to have and to hold and these hands could hold the world)
Like Norman, anything that gets her actively involved in the wider world for a communal or societal good and allows her to flourish works for me.
For Ray, I have such a big soft spot for him being a librarian and rekindling his childhood love of reading under kinder circumstances and sharing it with future generations, but with his aptitude for science that Shirai mentions in the mystic code book and we see crop up throughout the story
(Chapter 140)
there's a lot of possibilities for him too, though out of the trio I feel he'd be the least likely one to entertain the spotlight.
(Chapter 181.4)
But maybe an architect who blends art and science together to construct a community given one of the things he wanted to do in the human world with his family was see the Sagrada Família (another one influenced by Snickers).
Interestingly, I've yet to stumble across any fanfics or headcanons where he becomes a professional chef, and I wonder how much of that is a shared sentiment of viewing cooking as part of his love language that he'd rather stay personal, something he only does for his friends and family rather than making a career out of it.
(banana_slug_army's The Language of Cooking)
While also unlearning bit by bit the idea etched into his psyche after years as Isabella's spy that love is always transactional.
#thetinytimeturtle#ended up throwing a bit of Emma and Ray in there too along with Norman#forever enamored with bsa's and sae's writing and highly recommend them to any REN-thusiast#The Promised Neverland#Yakusoku no Neverland#TPN#Long Post#FSS Asks#FSS Chatter#Mystic Code Book#TPN Norman#TPN Emma#TPN Ray#Full Score Trio#Norrayemma#Norayemma#officersnickers#banana_slug_army#salsae#TPN Fanfic#Vowsverse AU#𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑#𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑#𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐶𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔#Post-Canon#TPN 128#TPN 181.4#already long enough but some others I know I've borrowed from other people: Gilda a sustainable fashion designer‚ Anna as a doctor#Nat as a professional musician‚ Barbara as a professional boxer‚ Nigel as a mechanic‚ Pepe as a professional chef‚ Zack as a paramedic#Sandy is an entertainer/YouTuber per the epilogue but I also adore him as a pediatrician
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Food! Headcanon Smoke (Tomas Vrbada)
Just some food headcanons that have been "stewing" in my head for our Friendly Neighborhood Wholesoome Sidekick!
Rated: PG-13, mentions of alcohol and "Sex on a Beach" drink
Words: 932
-As an Earth Realm Protector, Tomas had been billeted by different hosts from all over our world during various missions that take place in different parts of the world.
-Tomas is always appreciative of homecooked meals prepared by his billet hosts because he understands that it takes valuable resources, time and effort, especially if it is evident that the billet family is poor. There’s nothing more delicious than a homecooked meal made with love.
-He eats a lot of vegetables and loves them! Tomas appreciates vegetables prepared in different ways: salads, roasted vegetables, pureed as a soup, battered and fried, as snacks, you name it. Authentic Mexican tortillas and nachos with a lot of salsa with juicy chunks of tomatoes, bring on the vitamin C!
-Tomas also eats a lot of fruits, his favourite ones being apples, oranges, grapes, stone fruits, pineapple, mangoes, and any fruits that are both sweet and tart, especially if crunchy. He doesn’t mind bananas, melons, berries and local fruits from different countries and will eat them when offered.
-Tomas doesn’t mind smoothies, but doesn’t normally consume this, since they weren’t available during his time in the Lin Kuei, and currently in the Shirai Ryu.
-Tomas’ favorite thing to eat is stew. It reminds him of his childhood days as a hunter, as his mother often cooked stews for him and his sister. Got a pot roast in the slow cooker, he’s game! Make sure that there are a ton of veggies in that Crockpot, and he’ll appreciate that. Happen to have a large Dutch oven of Osso Bucco in the oven, he’s inwardly drooling and counting the minutes until he can get his mitts on a bowlful of that tender beef shank on top of creamy polenta and topped with gremolata! Got some chicken or pork adobo and rice, he’ll take seconds! Got a big bowl of Caldo de Res (yes, I know it’s a soup), it’s gone in no time. In a mood for some comfort food, he’ll gladly accept a bowl of scouse made with lamb. Got butter chicken on coconut rice, yes, please! :D
-If a billet host can or is well off, Tomas loves being treated to different restaurants. If a billet host has recommendations and is enthusiastic to take him to a popular spot, Tomas is always happy and appreciative to go with. From a popular hole-in-a-wall noodle shop to a lively gastropub on a game night to a Michelin Star restaurant in an upscale part of downtown, he loves being exposed to different culinary experiences. Tomas always has a great time bonding with his billet families this way, and they always enjoy hearing about his stories and adventures.
-Tomas won’t eat anything that isn’t well-cooked or under cooked, not out of rudeness but for his own safety. If there is anything that is pungent in a bad way, he’ll try it once in small quantities, but that’s it. If an animal that is being butchered is illegally acquired and slaughtered in an inhumane way, Tomas wants nothing to do with it.
-It only takes only a few occurrences for Tomas to learn to have a sack of snacks or MRE’s, courtesy of Johnny Cage’s connection with the US army.
-Just because Tomas must keep a certain physique doesn’t mean that he can’t enjoy any foods and beverages that are “less” healthy. Having been to different parts of the world has made him acquainted to the popular fun foods. If he’s in Canada, he must have some poutine with those squeaky cheese curds! If he’s in the Southern US, bring on the fried chicken with biscuits and gravy! If he’s in a Southeast Asian country, the street food offers a ton of options: try the fish balls on sticks, various fresh seafood cooked fresh, and shaved ice desserts, to name a few! If he’s in the Middle East or in the Balkan region, Baklava is a must!
-Tomas can generally hold his liquor and knows his limits. His alcoholic beverage of choice is beer, specifically the beloved pilsner. It must be the Czech in him or the fact that men can generally metabolize alcohol faster, or both, that he’s able to put away a lot of beer. In fact, Tomas is one of the few that can out drink most of the Earth Realm protectors.
-If Tomas is offered wine or Prosecco with some dinners, he will accept 2-3 glasses. He rarely drinks hard liquor, but if with a culture where it is customary and polite to accept a drink from a billet host, he will. He’s had quite a few tequila shots in his life.
-At one point, Tomas had been curious about Jello Shots at one point. Tomas enjoys them if he’s with younger members of billet families that offer them, especially when he can enjoy the more adventurous drinks like Sex on a Beach, Long Island, AMF (Ooof!), Ceasar, and other creative concoctions with no names. Tomas has also taken a liking to Baileys, by itself or in hot chocolate.
-Tomas has a sweet tooth. Ice cream, gelato, and popsicles are consumed in large quantities. He likes mini fruit tarts and cakes in general, especially Japanese sponge cakes with strawberries and light whipped icing. Anything matcha will always be welcomed, be it as tea, in cakes, ice creams, and anything creatively sweet.
-Tomas loves chocolate bars and protein bars. He also loves cookies and Nutella on fresh bannock. Have options of snacks in a basket, and that completes his billeting experience with you :D
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5.) first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP 18.) if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic 19.) the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic
24.) how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?
30.) share a fic you’re especially proud of
*cracks knuckles* alright let me get to digging for these *opens several docs*
5. 1st sentence of the 5th paragraph of an unfinished wip. hmmmm (*hides face* omg the 5th paragraph in just about every chapter of both active wips is short dialogue. ....I don't know what this says about me)
Have no fear, I found something that isn't a random dialogue that would make zero sense without context:
The worst part of it all, Del had pointed out once his tears had run dry and his intensity had been drained to a place of eerie zen, was that they couldn’t do much of anything.
18. This one required some digging because when I discard things from a wip it gets messy on where the words land. But I do have a few fragments that got tossed in the scrivener 'trash bin' instead of straight deleted. This was the beginning of a chapter in Starborn Saga that never ended up making the cut. At the beginning of the third act when Starborn! Sam is in a certain facility I originally planned on having a break between Lila and Goose's conversation and his exit where this (and more that was never written) would be.
Where the fuck are you, Raphael? Sam waded through the muck and debris of the ruined facility. He had the frequency meter hooked to his belt, his tombstone at the ready for anymore locals that might pop around the corner. He wanted to do the right thing here. For all the times he just shot his way through a locale, he felt it wrong to leave Raphael behind. Though with how this universe was, it might be a kindness to let him cease to exist. But what would they think? He could just see Ethan and Lila’s faces if they learned he didn’t even try. So he made another pass through the ruined facility looking for the doomed scientist. One more pass before he gave up and took the elevator down to end the lockdown.
I just couldn't get the scene to flow in a way that held attention. It felt like too much. so it went into the bin.
19. most interesting thing I've researched for a fic...I got two. One is actual research and the other was just a really interesting thing I discovered.
a. the most interesting thing I've researched for a fic is dancing for Ranger and the Deputy. both salsa and tango. I watched instruction videos, read about the moves, and watched a lot of dance videos from competitions and what not. This doesn't mean I know how to do either dance but I can now better understand the movements and patterns when watching a video. At least enough to write it. I think...I also ended up finding a deep love and appreciation for salsa and tango music. I'd always enjoyed it but like passively...I have playlists saved now levels of enjoyment from the research.
b. my interesting find is that in Fallout 4, where the map is shrunk down from the IRL Boston region of MA, it took around 6-7 hours to walk from the Dugout Inn in Diamond City to whereabout Greentop nursery sits up near Sargus Ironworks. This includes engaging enemies that attack and not sprinting. I then went to google maps, found Fenway Park (Diamond City) and plotted a course to where I think Greentop Nursery is supposed to be (approximatively) thinking I'd get a far bigger number....NOPE! Google says it would take around 6 hours in perfect lab conditions to get from Diamond City to Greentop. Fun little tidbit.
24. I don't have a good way to do that, actually. I try to play video games or find a different outlet to try to stimulate the creativity but a lot of times when I feel in a creative funk I just end up 'pacing the cage' bouncing from site to site moping at my desk. I should get better at not doing that...
30. A fic I'm especially proud of...*stares in panic* you want me to showcase one of my works heehe haha yeah! *clears throat*
this is hard because I'm very scared to toot my own horn but I am pretty darn proud of Ranger and the Deputy. Brainstorming started in November, first upload hit ao3 at the end of December and I uploaded the last chapter in the middle of March. The whole thing came together quickly and I'm pretty darn proud of the story arcs. Especially the third. I'm letting those two rest now...I'd like to work with Kitty and Ranger!Del again but I have other ideas to get out first...
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So that was the trip: 600km, and 53m shy of an Everest's climbing. I was loaded heavier than I've been for many years, but wanted to take a bit more stuff than I do on the shorter 2-3 day trips I mainly do now. It all worked fine; stable, well balanced, surprisingly easy to push and manoeuvre over rough terrain. I'd forgotten the almost tank-like momentum you can build up on a well loaded bike! On the rare occasions I had to lift it over a locked gate, the two rear panniers popped off in seconds and the rest was light enough to just hoy over in one go.
In fact, I wasn't carrying a massive amount of luggage. The rear panniers are 10l each; about 10-12l in the seat pack (sleeping bag, fleece bag liner, pillow, folding saw, trowel); the fork bags are 5l each; the double ended bar bag can hold up to 15l but was generally folded down to about 8-10l. So, along with the tool kit, lock and tent poles in the frame bag, a total of about 55litres.
I took stuff I didn't use - but I might have used it and wouldn't necessarily rule it out next time. Folding saw, small tarp, extra clothes on the shoulder of the season, maps....hmm, maps. I didn't look at the paper maps once. It's been a journey but I might finally be post-map. I just designated chunks of OS mapping and downloaded them for offline use as the route evolved. Navigation was as much about battery management as anything else.
No real mechanical issues. The anti-sway hook on one of the panniers came loose and needed nipping up early on. The right fork cage came loose on its bolts twice. It's a Salsa Anything cage, lacking the cut-outs that the left PX cage has, which makes getting in there with an allen key a bit tricky. Once I got medieval on it, it was fine for the rest of the trip.
I didn't have any problems with the Ortlieb Quick Rack but still have reservations about it that I'll cover in future posts.
So that just leaves the odd metallic plinking noise that's developed at the rear of the bike - that's tomorrow's job...
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@florrentine asked: ❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜
On the cusp of fusty, rigidly old fashioned with all the trimmings of classic suburbia, cream colored walls and a fridge covered in artwork made by the community children, stuck in place with magnets and clips decorated in ribbon: Deanna's house was the jewel of Alexandria. Untouched from the world that had gone to hell on the outside, pristine on the inside with its lit candles and delicious scents, baked goods and bubbled wine. Snacks stacked on platters scattered across every counter space available - tortilla chips and cheese for dipping, hot stuffed peppers, popcorn tossed in salted butter. Laughter and smiles upon the faces of all who attended her party, the call to welcome the newcomers who decided to join the ranks. Bellies never so full, not since before the end, beneath the surface weary wanderers who were not yet entirely comfortable. Shane's lips covered in salsa, his chip almost devoured completely, his other hand occupied with a cold beer. Golden label wet from condensation; down his knuckles in careless droplets, the taste a desired burn, just enough to calm nerves, the feeling of being watched and eyed like an animal in a cage.
Post found in the kitchen, the space between the food and the living room, Shane fell into the merriment with ease. Smiled, joked with the best, drank his bottle and sampled some more, fingers dusted in the aftermath of an attack on both the bean dip bowl and the onion dip. Celery and potato chips alike stuffed into his mouth, teeth bared in grin and the itch of aggression. An iced shiver that dared to cross his spine - the cruel hand of reality, the ambition to snap the dreamlike state away forever. Wonder that sparkled Deanna's eyes - so certain in her ways, so sure that what she had done for her community was right. So foolish, nevertheless, brown eyes darted between her and the door, red hue on tanned skin from emotion that was anything but the influence of chilled drink.
Laughing at the tease that passed between he and Pete, a doctor who walked on ice that was too thin, cracked and splintered, unaware of dangers that were toyed with, a stumble from one room into the next, the jest from Em was fresh air. Sweet to the sense, the jolt of excitement that needed to be, the reason for another sip from a near empty bottle, mouth gone suddenly dry.
"Hey, don't get used to it, girl." Shane replied, an attempt to suppress the mentioned expression a failure, the corners of his mouth quick to lift again. "Offer me a drink or two, and you're bound to get a smile on my face, let me tell you."
Shane asked, body turned to Emilia's direction, attention danced between she and the others, the happy, unexpecting family, "where you been? For a little while, I didn't think you'd show up. Deanna, she don't mess around with these things, does she? Like New Years in this place. Never seen so many smilin' faces. Y'all even got Abe to loosen up - tough bastard."
#florrentine#Judge and Executioner || Post Apocalypse Era#Verse || Alternative Universe#Location || Deanna's House#// He blames the drink - I blame Em#// He's smiling and we all know the reason why!
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Some details on gear. Or what I use to contain gear.
Sea to summit 8L Big River for front fork bags. One side food other is tent, stove and cup. Attached with Voile 25” straps. The mounts are King Cage anything mounts. 13L Sea to Summit Big River handlebar bag contains sleeping bag, air mattress and sometimes pants and down jacket.
Rear Pack contains all clothing and spare set of glasses
Triangle pack contains spare parts in bottom. Food while traveling pump, maps, spare water for long dry stretches.
Top tube gas tank bag hold electronics and food. Handle bars hold two feed bags which hold 1 liter water each sunscreen and Garmin.
This configuration is very good. I’m also very pleased with the Salsa Cutthroat bike. I’m riding about 25-35 psi in tires. This gives nice ride especially on washboard.
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Ripping to Shreds - Migration
Saw that illumination Migration on Netflix. It was so fast paced, not even compared to the concept it’s named after, just in general. Maybe I was expecting too much from an illumination film but it was so damn jarring. It switched films and tone immediately at the half way point I presume when they find the bird farm. It goes from dad focused family trip about getting over his fear of literally everything and the outside world as he seemed to never migrated at all. Never with the kids. And possibly never ever before. To a father and son issue, and back to family movie. Ex:
Other ducks fly in and inspire the family to migrate but main duck says no and they sulk. Then they leave their pond to fly to Jamaica after his fearful awakening, go in the wrong direction, stop at the old heron couple’s house to cleanse themselves of stereotyping, get stuck in New York and attacked by Akwafina, she gets them to the trapped Jamaican bird TM, get the cage key in a Ratatouille sequence from asshole chef. Salsa dance romantically for a bit before freeing him and fly to Jamaica. Oh wait, we gotta stop because the daughter duck needs to poop but she’s shyyyy. They discovered the paradise bird farm that looks cool to show papa bird is super brave. Oh no, the farm belongs to the asshole chef so they escape again, brooding angst from dad yelling at his son for running into danger and losing the ability to fly, get captured by chef but Jamaican bird TM get payback on him for the imprisonment with fruit 🍎, family united since son steals some feathers for him and they vaca at Jamaica. 🎉
I did not cut out anything. The movie never slows down or have the characters personally talk about emotions and non-plot things or jags that’s outside of what is mentioned. I think that’s why it feels so fast because of the
This movie really nailed it for me how many authors/writers forgets about character’s history, not background, their history. Why is he terrified of literally the outside world? Doesn’t get answered but fine. I can infer maybe something traumatic happened, whatever with his past family or something. Wait, his uncle is here… and no one else. Did the rest of their family members die from predators? Had to since they never met humans before. Oh wait, the uncle is a shut-in that causes the main duck to realize if he doesn’t change his wats, he’ll he lonely and die alone. Oh nooooooo~ So did the family just leave them there? You know what, I’m looking too much. Moving on- oh wait!
His wife knows he’s scared of everything/paranoid. She’s the opposite of him, like, completely. Adventurous, imaginative and confident! She wants to experience the world! … Wait how did you fall in love with him again???? Did he zap you with the hetero-ray? In the movie, it felt like she didn’t know him at all except for a gag “I know when my husband says stupid shit sometimes teehee. :)”. Like, it you knew how he is, why did you have kids with him???? And before anyone says it, duck biology dictates it can’t be an accident or anything else. It you know, you know. And even then, never migrating? You were okay with that?
It’s so glaring that the writers just created the characters, said they love each other, hug and that’s it. I like the dynamic they have of optimism/pessimism but otherwise they’re just together because of the plot.
Again, fine. I’ll let it be. He doesn’t want to be alone and finally conquer his fears…. Well he did actually which was cool. At the halfway point after freeing the Jamaican parrot TM, he completes his arc via 💃💃💃 with his wife. Shoot to he’s excited to go to new places at the end of the movie- Wait a minute how do we get there again???
The movie proceeds to shift where it suddenly has a son-father relationship thing happens. Up until this point, the movie has ignored the kids unless for gags.
So when they “courageously” explore the secret back entrance to the bird farm, which they could have avoided- they think its a paradise for birds as there’s slide and whatnot. But apparently the asshole chef gets his duck meat from here which the son notices. He tells his dad and wants to help but like any reasonable father, he tells him no and to stay back. He doesn’t listen and gets his feathers stomped on by the chef so he can’t fly. After the father rescues him and everyone else, he scolds him.
The son duck goes pouts in a corner for the night. His sister hugs him which was a cute moment before everyone else gets kidnap and they have to save their parents. And for some reason he gets to lead the pack into the Jamaican island as if he had some sort of arc???? If the arc was trusting his son to do (dangerous) things or lead, they didn’t do it correctly.
It really felt like they were gonna do something…. like the Croods. I literally just realized that. The basic concept and plot direction is the same. A family travels to a new location and face troubles but also an ally. They even have a grumpy older relative and a guide character that was trapped at one point. That’s where the differences end tho. At least that movie actually had characters have private and personal talks that wasn’t banter.
Migration was an alright movie. All I know is I know why the birds never feared their old home. Their pond is as shallow as their movie.
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Dear fanfic writers of the world:
Please. I’m begging you. If your blorbos are supposed to be dancing together, PLEASE stop writing that the leading partner put their hand on the other’s waist.
When dancing, the following partner (traditionally the lady) puts their left hand on the leading partner (traditionally the dude)’s upper arm, usually just below the deltoid. Just barely off the shoulder. The leader puts their right hand IMMEDIATELY UNDERNEATH THE LEFT ARM OF THEIR PARTNER, ON THE SHOULDER BLADE OR UPPER RIBS.
Your waist is the bendy space between your rib cage and your pelvis. Bend to one side; see the crease where your skin kind of pinches together? That’s your waist. If the dude puts their hand that low, it absolutely hamstrings your ability to lead properly and do things like spins or lifts or anything like that, AND it can cause SERIOUSLY PAINFUL HIP CRAMPS. Like, socket pain, low back pain, muscle aches in your thigh, etc. It hurts so bad.
Also, if your blorbos are dancing somewhere with other people, like a fancy party or something, or anytime they want to be able to do something other than list off “hey, let’s go in this direction” or “let’s do this move next” or anything, or if they aren’t familiar with their partner and the dance doesn’t have exact choreographed steps that everyone at the party knows, basically any time one person is ACTUALLY leading and the other is expected to follow whatever they do, hips are going to be touching.
This doesn’t apply AS much to Latin dances (cha-cha, rumba, salsa, etc.), but for something like a waltz, foxtrot, Viennese waltz, etc., the ones that have the big elegant ball gowns and the fancy tuxedos and such, the way one partner leads is A) with their arms in proper position, and B) with their hips touching their partner’s. It’s staggered, crotch-to-thigh, so that if the dude steps forward with his right leg, he’s stepping between the girl’s legs, and if she steps forward with her right, it’s the same. This way you know exactly what the other person is doing at any given moment, and you’re less likely to trip over each other’s feet.
Also, hips and face are basically magnetic. Hips are N/S, so they stay stuck together. Faces are N/N or S/S, and are repelled from each other. That’s where the elegant arching of the back comes from. I’m sure you don’t need my help figuring out the implications for your slow burn enemies-to-lovers unresolved sexual tension fic there.
Please. I’m dying here. Just, put the hands in the right spot. That’s the main thing. It’s all I’m asking.
Signed,
- I did ballroom in high school
#dear fanfic writers#writeblr#writers on tumblr#am I being extra about this#probably#am I still tired of taking 6d8 psychic damage every time I get to a ballroom scene#definitely#please just fix the arm y’all#the hips are less important#unless your fic deals with the goings on of the nether regions I spose#in which case it’s probably relevant
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Undertale Ask Blog
Hello ! I’m Myfanwi, 27 years old, and I decided to open an Undertale Ask Blog. I follow several ones like @ratsoh-writes or @whyiswingdingsafont, and I so badly wanted to do the same thing.
I’m a french writer (she/they, i don’t care), so my English might be weird sometimes, but I’ll do my best. I’m currently studying children litterature in France. I also writes Undertale french fanfiction here and here.
Rules :
- You can ask whatever you want, except heavy gore or heavy sexual things. The description of the available characters (for now) is under the cut, with a small description of each.
Available characters :
- Undertale : Sans, Papyrus, Toriel, Asgore, Undyne, Alphys, Frisk (Adult), Chara (Adult), Mettaton, Gaster, Grillby, Muffet, Burgerpants, Asriel, Flowey, Gerson.
- Underfell : Sans (Red), Papyrus (Edge), Undyne, Alphys, Grillby (Ash)
- Underswap : Sans (Blue), Papyrus (Honey), Undyne, Alphys
- Horrortale : Sans (Oak), Papyrus (Willow), Toriel
- Horrorswap : Sans (Nugget), Papyrus (Pumpkin)
- Horrorfell : Sans (Copper), Papyrus (Chief)
- Swapfell : Sans (Nox), Papyrus (Rus) - Fellswap Gold : Sans (Wine), Papyrus (Coffee)
- Outertale : Sans (Moon), Papyrus (Sun)
- Dancetale : Sans (Rambo), Papyrus (Salsa)
- Dancefell : Sans (Rumba), Papyrus (Tango)
- Farmtale : Sans (Sam), Papyrus (Ben)
- Mafiatale : Sans (Demon), Papyrus (Creeper)
- Mafiafell : Sans (Fang), Papyrus (Torpedo)
- Babybones (Young characters version) : Sans (UT), Papyrus (UT), Blue (US!Sans), Honey (US!Papyrus), Red (UF!Sans), Edge (UF!Papyrus), Oak (HT!Sans), Willow (HT!Papyrus), Nox (SF!Sans), Rus (SF!Papyrus), Moon (OT!Sans), Sun (OT!Papyrus), Copper (HF!Sans), Chief (HF!Papyrus)
- Other skeletons : Ink, Error, Disbelief!Papyrus (Delta), Dustale!Sans (Dune) - Killer!Sans (Killer)
- I’m ok with angst and touchy subjects. I’m also very very LGBT+ friendly (I’m aro and ace btw). I’m not an easily triggered person, but if it happened, I might not answering a question, sorry. I don’t do match ups.
- Please, select maximum 10 characters. By default, I’ll go with the main Undertale characters. My main AUs are Undertale, Underfell, Underswap, Horrortale & Swapfell for now.
- Interactions asks between all the characters are also available. You can learn more about this right here. It can be relationships asks or fun thing they can do together ! Angst is ok too !
- I will probably add characters in the future, but I prefer to appropriate them before, so it might take a little while.
- I’m ok with personnal questions too
I am not a RP blog. All RP asks will be erased, sorry.
- I might close my askbox if I think I have too many asks !
MASTERPOSTS - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35
FANFICTIONS - Completed - The Doppelganger [Underfell & Horrortale] | Out of the closet [Undertale] | 7 a.m. in the neighborhood [Undertale] In progress - Horrortale : Rotten Apple [Horrortale] | What is best for humankind [Undertale prequel] | No weakness [Underfell] | Remember the good days [Undertale] | A heart in a cage [Undertale]
Let’s go for the boys and girls, under the cut :
UNDERTALE
Undertale Undyne
- Not a morning person
- Randomly scream at people for no reason in particular
- Flex with heavy things just because she can
- Don’t threat her friends or you��re dead
- Animes and cosplay lover
Undertale Toriel
- Put post-it on everything to help you
- Love trying cake recipes
- Have a snail farm and sometimes eat them. Raw.
- Call you five times a day to see if you’re ok
- Hate violence of any kind
Undertale Asgore
- Better not be allergic to pollen
- Know all differents sorts of flowers
- Often talk of his past, but does not like talk about the fallen children
- Randomly pop out in your day to hug you
- Don’t know anything about computers and phones
Undertale Alphys
- Need space sometimes
- Scared of loosing you
- Anime and cosplay lover
- Love to chill at home
- Test her tech on you
Undertale Gaster
- … How the hell did he come to your house ?
- … Why are you keeping him ?
- … Is this goop on your pillow ?
- … You don’t understand anything he said but it seems funny. Or not.
- … Randomly appears while you’re in the shower
Undertale Frisk (adult version)
- ACT - Flirt
- Always hurt, somehow. Can you stop ?
- Love to showing off but never succeed to
- Drag you into troubles all the time
- Dog lover
Undertale Chara (adult version)
- Please, don’t touch them. They hates that.
- Scare people randomly
- Collection of knives
- You think they are trying to kill Sans ? Like, they’re always after him.
- Have a baby goat pet.
Undertale Mettaton
- He can’t decide whether you should live or die
- Your house is invading with MTT merch
- Drag you on scene even if you don’t want to
- Weird bed fonctionnalities
- You’re kinda his life-coach, manager, dancer, second singer, second actor… but never get paid.
Undertale Grillby
- A gentleman in everything he is doing.
- Best cook of the year, far better than Muffet. Well, it’s what he says at least.
- He hates rain and collect umbrellas.
- He’s not very expensive, but he will always leave gifts for his S/O here and there.
- Cry while watching Disney movies and can’t hide it because water is vaporized on his face and you can just hear “TCHHH TCHHHH”
Undertale Muffet
- Money, money, money. She loves expensive and shiny things.
- Well, you better like spiders since she is moving at your place with her two billions baby spiders.
- Put spider dust in everything : laundry, food, dishwasher. How the hell does it work ???
- One day, she said to you that she ate her previous girl/boyfriend because she got too excited. But she was only joking. Right ? RIGHT ?
Undertale Burgerpants
- Is crying every night on your laps because his life is shit.
- Is bitching a lot about everyone. He is your perfect gossip buddy.
- Mettatonphobic. When he sees Mettaton face, he becomes so angry he can rip off everything on its way.
- Want to be an actor, but you don’t have the heart to tell him his acting is very horrible.
- Sing like an old croak.
Undertale Asriel (Adult version) :
- He's a Disney Princess. He loves the Disney Multiverse and he has a big collection of plushies and princess' dresses.
- Always gets in trouble, somehow. You don't look at him for two minutes and he's stuck in a tree.
- He has a high sensibility for beautiful things. So much it makes him cry.
- He is terrified of becoming Flowey again and have really bad nightmares about this.
- Can't eat chocolate without putting it everywhere on his fur.
Undertale Flowey (no romance at all) :
- The chaotic buddy you didn't ask to have, but he's here anyway. When something bad can happen, Flowey will make it happen.
- He lives in a pot in front of your living room window. He's like a talkative dog. Whatever is happening outside, he's telling you. He's also insulting your Karen's neighbour.
- Terrible love confident. His advices are shit. He can also be jealous if you're spending more time with your girl/boyfriend than him. And you don't want to know what he can do when he's jealous.
- Plays The Sims all day to kill people. It's his way to avoid killing people in real life. It's fun. He's enjoying it too much.
- He's hunting rats at night. He's only eating rats. Don't lock him inside during the night or he's going to hunt something bigger and more fleshy.
UNDERFELL
Underfell Undyne
- Love spears, swords and very big axes. Have an entire collection in her cave.
- Want to be a werewolf since she saw Twilight
- Passion for gore things and apocalypses
- Secretly organize bets during Sans and Papyrus fights
- Love pink and girly things
Underfell Alphys
- Just like her classic conterpart, she is a scientist. But she is more of a mad scientist. What she loved most is to create chaos with whatever she is doing. It’s better if you’re not touching her stuff. You might regret drinking one of her things.
- She is such a troublemaker. It will take time to convince her not to use humans in her experimentations. And if it’s happening anyway, she’ll totally let you find a solution. Not her business.
- She is very possessive. Don’t you dare go to see someone else or she dusts you both.
- She is a very bad and angrier looser. Do not beat her in anything or you’ll might regret it very hard.
- She is loving hardcore animes and cosplays. Maybe never show her 50 Shades of Grey or she might have bad ideas.
UNDERSWAP
Underswap Undyne
- Afraid to talk to you. Sometimes, she’s watching you for hours waiting for you to notice she wants to talk.
- Keep talking about complex sciency stuff she’s the only one to understand.
- Do not let her play with chemical experiments in your kitchen.
- Cry at the end of Disney movies.
- Write fanfictions you don’t want to read
Underswap Alphys
- Not interested in love stories, she wants a rival, like in Pokemon.
- Fight her. Seriously. Fight her !
- Jumpscare you in the middle of the night
- Do not be mean to Blue or you’ll regret it.
- Love to hang out with friends and party hard !
Horrortale
Horrortale Toriel
- She needs to know you won’t leave her to trust you
- Overprotective behavior.
- Just want her people to be happy. She thinks she does not matter.
- Have a collection of hoodies because of Sans. Actually love to wear them.
- You like cake, but five cakes at once is a bit too much, even for you.
OUTERTALE
Outertale Sans (Moon)
- Love to play with gravity. Please, don’t let him play with gravity. If you let him, in two days, everything is flying in your house.
- Fly in his sleep, and doesn’t care if you are holding to him.
- One day, he tried a cigarette. And by that I mean he ate it and spend two weeks at the hospital afterwards for “food” poisoning.
- Cheat on every ball sport you play with him.
- Kleptomaniac. He always has something in his hands that doesn’t belong to him.
Outertale Papyrus (Sun)
- Captain safety. The house is full baby proof even if you don’t have a baby.
- He loves kids and is working to become a professional nanny.
- Don’t let him watch disaster or horror movies or he won’t sleep of the night.
- When he was little, he had an imaginary friend : a scary clown he named Bob. Sometimes, he’s still looking at the emptiness for several minutes. He’ll never tell you Bob is still here though. But it’s still creepy.
DANCETALE
Dancetale Sans (Rambo)
- Invite himself in stranger’s party to have fun (and F O O D).
- Break a bone every two months because he is not training enough.
- LOVE dresses and colorful clothes.
- Randomly speak in french because he thinks it’s cool
- Passionate by parkour, but can’t climb a tree without crying for help like a kitten.
- Often visit abandoned buildings and is arrest by the police one time out of two.
Dancetale Papyrus (Salsa)
- Is a bit too excited when he dances and almost rips your arms off most of the time. Calm down, jeez.
- Dramaqueen. One thorn in the finger and he is dying.
- Suits, dresses and artistic make up lover.
- OH MY GOD IT’S A PUPPY. He doesn’t care if he is doing something important, if there is a puppy, he follows the puppy. Your neighbors with a dog are scared of him. But, well, at least, you know what to get him.
- Won’t miss a MTT show on TV, day or night, even if he had seen the show 100 times.
- Sing under the shower, but it’s actually very good. But he won’t admit it even if you say so.
DANCEFELL
Dancefell Sans (Rumba)
- His nickname is Rumba because he loves both the dance and the Roomba vacuum. It’s obsessive. He can stay two hours watching the Roomba clean the house with these big delated cat eyes.
- He’s a pretty exclusive dancer. He is only dancing for his S/O, and only in big occasions.
- He is such a rude car driver. He can’t drive two miles without insulting someone.
- He doesn’t know that nuggets are made out of chickens. It would break his heart since he loves chickens. But he also love nuggets.
Dancefell Papyrus (Tango)
- He has a bad luck touch with electronic things. Phones, computers, bank machines… If he touches it, it broke. This is pissing him off so badly.
- He’s a professional dancer and one of the best of his generation. He’s very famous, but… He hates that. He hates being harassed by fans all days, he just want to be free.
- Answers your question with songs when he is sarcastic. Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you.
- His scream is so high-pitched it can sometimes break glass. When he is angry, he is talking with a high-pitched voice too. It’s so funny. Except for the glass, I guess.
- He has two rabbits, Carrot and Princess, and they are his babies. Do not dare to behave poorly around them or you’re in for a bad time.
FARMTALE
Farmtale Sans (Sam)
- The brothers are taking care of an educational farm. Sam is taking care of the animals more. His favorite animals are the rabbits, and the rabbits love him. He is always walking with twenty of them all around him.
- He doesn't like when people are abusing animals, and even more his animals. He can go full angry mode very easily and kick butts. He's not a coward.
- He's really kind, but stubborn as hell. If he says he can do something, he will do it, even if he hurts himself. He's also very resentful, so be careful. You might forget a bad prank you did to him, but he didn't.
- He loves children, but he is scared to mess up if he has ones, so he's acting like he doesn't like them, but this is pretty obvious he is a liar.
- That guy who knows where wild animals are just by eating their poop. It can be very embarrassing in public.
Farmtale Papyrus (Ben)
- He's taking care mostly of cultivation and flowers. He got a lot of variety of cereals, vegetables, fruits and flowers, and he loves sharing his experience. This is actually one way to make him talk for hours.
- Despite this, he is one of the shyer Papyruses. He's a bit scared of strangers and prefers his fields to talking with people. He is very anxious all the time and when something is not going as plan, he is panicking badly. His brother is overprotective too, hurt him and you're gonna hear the most angry metal remix of Megalovania in the distance.
- A bit like Willow, he is very emotionnal and sensitive. He cries when he is happy, angry, sad, upset, excited... This is hard to guess what he is feeling.
- Gaining his trust is HARD, because it will take several months or years, but he is one of the most loyal guy you can find, and he will never betray you. But god, betray him once and it's over (+ his brother might dust you if it was really mean).
- His favorite thing ever is to lay in a flower field and watch the clouds. That means you can sometimes accidentally walk on him if you are not cautious enough.
MAFIATALE
Mafiatale Sans (Demon) :
- He's an assassin. He's quick, he's fast, and yes, sometimes he thinks he is Batman because, damn, he's good. His favourite weapon is the dagger, but he's good with guns too.
- He loves to use S/O as a live bait. He doesn't care if they are not ok with that. Take a snooby snack or something and shut up.
- King of "not-going-so-well" plans. Nothing is working like he wants to. Maybe if he had an actual plan to begin with, you wouldn't be in this situation.
- He thinks he's good with magic tricks. He is really not, but since he's really grumpy when you notice it, everyone acts like it's working. When someone don't, he gets dunked on.
- Really bad loser. He's not taking failing really well and can't go full agressive mode if he lose a bait or something.
Mafiatale Papyrus (Creeper) :
- He's more or less a negociator. When someone is holding someone in hostage or want to trade something, he goes, he asks nicely to have the person/the thing, the guy says no, he takes a huge bone and knocks them out at full force. Very effective.
- He looks nice, he plays nice, but it's a viper. He loves gossips and he obviously can't keep them for himself. He talks about everyone in their back, so yeah, he's not exactly reliable.
- When he's bored, he likes to sneak behind people very silently and scares the crap out of them. He is really good at that, and he knows perferctly how to make a creepy face.
- He's good with money, but also very miserly. If you buy something behind his back, he'll know it. He'll know also if someone tries to rob him. He's the one buying weapons and jewelry too.
- His dating manual is from the XIXth century and he's following it at the letter. It leads to very funny moments when he asks for your horse so he can lead it to the stable.
MAFIAFELL
Mafiafell Sans (Fang) :
- He's a dog trainer. He trained dogs to guard the base, attack and steal things without being notice. He loves dogs. He has one huge german mastiff girl named Hawk, she's her absolute baby and she loves you more than anyone, even his S/O.
- He plays tough and all, but he is quite an emotive guy. He gets really pissed off is someone is hurting a pet.
- If he can, he will try to avoid S/O to know about what he's doing. His S/O safety is what most matters to him. He can gets overprotective if someone threats you.
- He's drooling. A lot. More than her dog. Not only while sleeping. If he gets too excited, it happens.
- His brother thinks he is not scary enough so he's practising his evil laughter in the shower. He can't do this properly, it's pretty hilarious.
Mafiafell Papyrus (Torpedo) :
- He's one of the most influent members of the mafia and one of the most deadly. He's a good sniper, but he loves to fight hand-to-hand and break necks with his hands. He's a killing machine, and he absolutely loves that.
- He has a one-eyed cat, Stormbringer, who's always coming with him during missions. Legends say that if you see that cat, you are doomed to die before the next sunset. Every dealer and robber knows about that. His cat terrifies them.
- Surprisingly enough, he is very sweet at home with his S/O, like really really sweet. He's a nice guy, very lovely and clingy, who can spend hours cuddling on the sofa and purring to hell. However, like his brother, he prefers S/O far away from what is doing, because he doesn't want them to see how bad he is in reality.
- He has post-traumatic stress when he hears very loud sounds. He got trapped in an exploded building for fifteen days once, his leg crushed by a wall, and he's very afraid to live this again. He's also limped from the right leg.
- If he has a choice between sacrificing himself or his family, he will always sacrificing. Family is more important than anything, and he would rather die than see his brother or his S/O getting hurt because of him.
BABYBONES
These characters are not available for romantic asks (except if S/O is also a child and that’s not serious), but everything else is alright. You can even adopt them. Well, I mean, at your peril. Chaos chaos. Children are around 5 to 8 years old.
Tiny Undertale Sans (Tiny Sans) :
- Has definitely a problem with authority and is doing everything you say him not to
- Sleep eighteen hours a day like a cat
- Won’t eat your damn vegetables, give him a B U R G E R.
- You can’t yell at him if he teleports while you’re yelling at him.
- He thinks your dog is a horse.
Tiny Undertale Papyrus (Tiny Papyrus) :
- “Mama, [someone who behave badly] did/says [the bad thing they did/says].”
- He is so clingy. You can’t get rid of him. Where you go, he’s going with you.
- He’s scared of every animals bigger than a fly. That’s a lot of animals.
- He is brave. Very brave ! So brave his first night of camping in the garden, he got home again after only thirty seconds outside.
- Why are you killing the pastas in the water ? They’re crying ! And he might cry too if you don’t stop hurting them !
Tiny Underswap Sans (Tiny Blue) :
- King of hyperactivity. Day, night, he doesn’t care. He’s always running everywhere and won’t stop before he gets so tired he’s passing out.
- One day, he saw his cat fight an other cat. Now, when he sees a cat, he goes fight it. He hurts himself everytime.
- He’s terrified of clowns and storms.
- That damn kid that won’t listen to you when you asked him to stay close in shops.
- He’s so cute you can’t really reprimand him. He KNOWS it.
Tiny Underswap Papyrus (Tiny Honey) :
- He’s living with stuffed animals. He got so much of them you can’t walk in his room.
- He’s stealing candies so he can eat them during night time when you are not watching him.
- Actually very naive and impressionable, he will trust everything everyone says.
- Tantrums in shops if you say no to buy some honey. You can’t say no to honey.
- He doesn’t have sense of direction. You are going to search after him very often.
Tiny Underfell Sans (Tiny Red) :
- Will cry until you say yes to watch TV and/or play video games.
- He loves Willy, it’s his best friend. He is always talking with him and drawing him… Except Willy doesn’t exist.
- That annoying kid who says “NO !” to everything you propose him.
- Hate bath time. Will run in the entire house, yelling, to avoid it. Everyday is a challenge.
- He bites. Everyone. No exception. Everytime he is unhappy. I don’t know if you notice, but his teeth are SHARP.
Tiny Underfell Papyrus (Tiny Edge) :
- Heard an adult yell “FUCK” in the street and now it’s his favorite word.
- He can’t make the difference between right and left.
- That King-Child that will test your limits everyday just to prove he is stronger. You want to go in the sofa ? No, that’s his sofa now. You want to feed the dog ? No, he’s eating the dog food.
- He knows everything on everything. Of course you can grow chocolate eggs on the trees, duh.
- He’s scared of Santa Claus because he is too nice with him.
Tiny Horrortale Sans (Tiny Oak) :
- He’s so calm and silent you can sometimes forget he is here.
- Loves animals. You can let him in front of a dog and still find him hours later playing with it.
- He wants to be outside all the time and will play dead when you ask him to get inside the house
- He is chewing everything that fall into his hands.
- He doesn’t like other children and won’t hesitate to growl or fight them if they get too close. He is a lonely wolf.
Tiny Horrortale Papyrus (Tiny Willow) :
- Since he’s bigger than most children, everyone is looking for his protection.
- He is actually very insecure about himself and has a lot of anxiety. He’s a bit more slow than most children too, and it’s hard for him to follow.
- Loves encyclopedic books. He can stay for hours reading it.
- “Mama, why the sky is blue ? How do you make babies ? Why some dogs have pink noses but others are black ?’
- That kid who wants to cook all by himself why you’re not home and almost burn the house down.
Tiny Swapfell Sans (Tiny Nox) :
- Kleptomaniac. He can’t stop stealing other children toys. Especially the one of people he doesn’t like.
- King of the playground. He has a Court and followers. No one can access the covered playground without his authorisation and a cake offering.
- He doesn’t believe in Santa Claus, so he pulled his beard in front of all the school’s children.
- Sell lemonade on the pavement. The price was so high he got arrested by a policemen once for fraud. At 5 years old.
- That sneaky bastard who put chocolate biscuits in your basket last second at the store so you can’t not buy it.
Tiny Swapfell Papyrus (Tiny Rus) :
- Won’t clean his room. You want it clean, then do it yourself then.
- Throw toys at people head when he’s not happy.
- That one kid who challenged everyone at school to do stupid and dangerous things but somehow never got caught and act like an angel in front of the teachers.
- Eat mud and grass.
- Loves staying outside when it’s raining so he can be ill after and not go to school.
Tiny Outertale Sans (Tiny Moon)
- He can't control his magic and basically fly all the time. It can be dangerous because some times, he goes very high and doesn't know how to get down.
- He's a natural cheater in everything he's doing. If there's an easy way to do something, he'll take it.
- He's a kleptomaniac. He's stealing everyone, and mainly at school. You are tired of parents complaining about this.
- He has a phobia of insects. If he sees one, he stops and screams for how long the creature is on sight.
- That kid that play ball on the road and always putting himself in danger outside.
Tiny Outertale Papyrus (Tiny Sun)
- He has an imaginary friend : a scary clown he named Bob. He can have entire conversations with him. It's creeping you out.
- He's scared of most Disney villains and will cry when they appear on screen.
- Everytime Moon is doing something bad, he's telling the parents. To avoid this, Moon sometimes tie him to trees or lock him in the sky with his gravity magic.
- He can't make the difference between chocolate and poop, and will eat both.
- He thinks lockers are puzzles and will break all of them.
Tiny Horrorfell Sans (Tiny Copper)
- If you leave the room, he's immediately crying.
- He might have only one arm, but that don't stop him from climbing the oven to steal in the cupboards.
- He loves to help in the garden. He loves very colourful flowers and big, big vegetables.
- If you do a nasty remark about his missing arm or his little brother being in a wheelchair, he's coming to fight you. He doesn't care if he's small, he has literally a bear trap in his mouth.
- He's confused with hours. How is he supposed to guess when it is midnight or midday if the clock is pointing at 12 in both cases???
Tiny Horrorfell Papyrus (Tiny Chief)
- He is born on a plane, so he has free tickets to Japan for all his life, and he is very proud to say it to everyone.
- He feels insecure because of his wheelchair, but thankfully his big brother is here to boost his confidence. They're both insulting bullies with the worst words they can find. It's a hobby now.
- He loves cats, and stray cats love him back. There's a high chance a cat come to cuddle whenever he is, even at school.
- He's a little gremlin : very gently and nice with adults, but when they turn their back, he's doing bad things. Like putting frogs in Sans bed, or bath his parents TV.
OTHER CHARACTERS
Disbelief!Papyrus (Delta) :
He’s the only survivor of his timeline. His brother, Undyne and many others are dead, killed by the human. He killed Frisk and was able to go to the Surface by absorbing his soul. He’s actually the only monster on the Surface, and it’s very scary.
He can’t get rid of the idea he is a murderer and thought that he would die when people saw him, just like Asriel. Except humanity actually accept him very well. He’s even some sort of celebrity in town.
His S/O will have to go very, very slowly with him. He’s still traumatised, and even if he keeps getting better and better, he’s still very fragile mentally.
He HATES violence, that’s very very triggering him. He’s not scared of fighting anymore though. If you attack him, you ask for whatever will happen to you.
He just wants some affection. Please don’t leave him.
Ink :
This is the type of random guy that pop up in your appartment while you’re brushing your teeth. You don’t know who he is or what he wants, he just kinda decides that’s his home now ?
He’s capable of the best just as the worst. Everyday is a brand new surprise. You’ll better watch closely your valuable things. He doen’t understand propriety nor privacy.
You’ll have to accept he is not constantly here. He’s very attached to his freedom and might disappear for a few weeks sometimes just because he needs to.
He has a weird relationship with his brush. It’s uncomfortable.
Be careful about his vials. If he loose them, he can become very, very mean and angry because he doesn’t feel anything. Fortunately, it doesn’t happen very often.
Error :
He’s a lonely wolf. He does what he wants, when he wants and where he wants. He’s not the romantic type too, nor friendly actually. He’s always grumpy, but with a lot of patience, he will eventually warm a bit.
He dislikes physical contact. That’s triggering him a lot and it’s an immediate dealbreaker if you can’t respect that.
He’s loud, and he whines a lot too. Actually, he’s using you as a confident because being the destroyer of the worlds is not an easy job. Don’t you dare break his trust though. It takes a long time for him to talk to people. If you betrayed him, you’ll never see him again.
He loves relaxing places. That’s the only places he’s accepting to take a nap.
He’s usually pretty chill and it looks like he doesn’t care, but if something happen to you, he will beat the hell of whatever hurts you. But you’ll never know about it. That’s the only thing he keeps secret from you.
Dustale!Sans (Dune) :
- He is only available for friendship asks. He's not trusty enough to get himself in a relationship. He prefers monsters to humans, even if he starts to act more or less nice with them.
- He manages to escape what he called his personal hell, but without the ghost of Papyrus. He is still hunted by all the people he killed, but he's learning to accept what he had done has consequences. He's more calm and reflexive.
- He is really jumpy and easily triggered. He hates when people are getting close from behind, when they are looking for too long at him or when they are touching him without his consent. To gain his trust, you have to be patient, kind, and not judge him. All he wants now is to get over the past and start something new.
- He is still a little sadistic. You'll have to teach him where the limits are sometimes. He can be very creepy and scary, overprotective and gets angry very easily when he is frustrating. He won't hurt, but sometimes, he doesn't know how scary he can be, so he needs someone honest with him, even if it can hurts sometimes.
- The only way he knows to solve his problems is murder. So yeah, you are going to teach him to SPARE again. He's a good student, but maybe don't let him alone for too long in the streets.
#undertale#underswap#underfell#horrortale#horrorfell#swapfell#outertale#dancetale#dancefell#farmtale#ink sans#error sans#disbelief papyrus#dustale#babybones#undertale ask blog#mafiatale#mafiafell#horrorswap
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Chips & Salsa - Chapter 9
“-remember-?”
Who was that?
“Do you-”
What are they saying?
Why does my head hurt?
Light burst into Lance’s eyes with the pain in his chest.
He jolted forward, stuck, hurt-
Haggar.
He could see her glowing eyes now. Staring at him from just under the darkness of her hood. Even without pupils, he could tell that she was focused solely on him. As if he would tell her anything.
Lance jerked against his restraints. Restraints? “What do you want from me, you hag?!” He shouted, pulling against the metal cuffs again. Though they already felt bruised. His head pulsed with similar aching.
“I said, What..” She creeped forward, clamping her hand around his chin, “Do you remember?” Her voice crawled out of her throat like slime coating his skin.
What do I know? He tried to pull away from her again, “What the hell are you talking about, you freak!?” She was asking about his team, his family… Voltron. “I won't tell you anything. You’ll never get your hands on Voltron!” He struggled for lucidity against another flash of pain in his ever-growing headache.
An odd mix of satisfaction and anger flitted across her face, curving it into a sneer. “We will see about that yet, Paladin.”
He had no idea where the satisfaction came from. The anger, he understood. He’d seen plenty of his math teachers with the same expression; but satisfaction? She had nothing to be satisfied about. Not if she thought she could get anything from him.
“You’re not going to be able to break me, not in this lifetime or the next. I’ll never betray my team!”
A strange hissing growl came from her as she pulled her hand back and turned to the other druids. Other druids? Why hadn’t he seen them? He should have noticed them. Was he really that focused on just Haggar?
“Take him to the cell,” She glanced back at him out of the corner of her eye, “Leave him there for a while. We’ll see how he responds when I come back with further improvements from this information.”
He barely had time to panic before a druid had placed a purple hand on his arm and he felt magic course through him. It wasn’t electricity, thankfully, but it tensed every muscle in his body, paralyzing him in place.
God, the cramps he would get from this. He needed a massage. With coconut oil. And music. Hell, at the very least, a hot bath and copious amounts of bubbles.
When the other druid reinforced the magic to carry him out of the room, he came to the unfortunate realization that he would be getting neither any time soon.
The hallways faded past him in a blur. A tingling feeling niggled at the back of his neck, You should remember this. Pay attention. Listen! It screamed. This has happened before! SOMETHING’S WRONG! It whispered.
It sounded familiar.
Lance tried to pay attention to his surroundings, he really did. He knew it would be important if he wanted to escape. To know where he was going. But every time he tried to focus, the directions and pathways slipped from his mind like sand through a net.
What felt like seconds later, Lance was thrown into the darkness of a cell. And suddenly, feeling rushed back to him in a tsunami. Pain, pins-and-needles, sharpness, bruising, the sting of wounds rubbed raw at his wrists.
The druids moved away, uncaring at the shout he gave in shock when he hit the floor. The door closed behind them unceremoniously.
Lance groaned from his place crumpled on the ground, “Nothing like little torture and paralysis to get ya’ kickin’ in the morning, amiright?” He sighed to himself.
Displeasure sunk into him as the grime crawled its way into his pores.
Reluctantly, Lance pulled his hands and arms under his body, pushing up from the floor. At least he could lean against the wall, presumably less dirty than the ground. God, his head hurt. And his arms. Everything was sore, the thick manacles on his wrists feeling heavier by the second.
With a series of grunts, Lance finally settled himself into a corner of the cell. There was very little light, and most of it seeped in from the space under the door or the half dead purple-lightbulb-in-a-cage right above it.
Still, when he rolled his head to the side in exhaustion, there was enough light to catch on something written- no, carved into the wall next to him.
He raised his shaking fingers up to it, trying to feel what marks he couldn’t see.
D-n--or--g-t
-o--for--
No, there was a space in between there.
Do-t- fo--q-t
He squinted at it, leaning closer. The light caught on the curves of some of the letters. The ones he couldn’t accurately feel. It was an ‘N’, a ‘G’, an ‘R’ and maybe.. an ‘e’?
Oh.
Don't Forget.
Lance dropped his shackled wrists to his lap and huffed a laugh at his efforts. At himself. And then he spoke to the darkness.
“Oh don't you worry, creepy wall carving, I think it’d be pretty hard to forget this.”
-x-x-x-
Lance sat in the darkness for hours, days, however mind-numbingly long it was that allowed him to actually recite his entire family tree through 4 and a half generations. Extended family included. He even started including hypothetical nieces and nephews based on what he thought his sisters would name their kids.
He absentmindedly wondered if all of them were still hypothetical. How long had he been gone? What had he missed?
What had changed without him there to see it?
Something rumbled in the back of his head. It felt hidden behind his absolute monster of a headache now coming back.
Except… wait. No. He recognized that rumble…
Blue?
Blue! It was the Blue Lion! His Lion!
Something broke free in his mind, a small section of fog lifting.
Her presence and his own pressed against each other in his mind. A piece he hadn’t quite noticed was missing.
How could he ever have forgotten Blue?
Her presence purred, the vibrations automatically soothing him, comfort pushing through his bond. Something still felt… off. The bond felt farther, more strained, even though he could feel Blue on the other side. Feel her desire to come closer, feel the worry tinging the edges. Something still kept a distance between them.
He didn’t know what it was but something in his own mind told him to leave it be. It was important. It had to be like this.
Whatever this was.
Lance wasn’t able to figure it out soon enough, their mental conversation interrupted by the harsh grinding opening his cell door.
“Get up,” a discourteous voice commanded.
He looked at them with hooded eyes and a forced smirk, “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt somebody?” Not that they knew he was having a conversation, but still… point stands.
Their glowing eyes narrowed, “Get up, or suffer, Paladin.”
“Didn’t anyone teach you manners? I didn’t even hear a please. Honestly, people these days have no- AAH!” Lance’s scream cut off his own words as purple lightning struck his body.
The druid barely even moved their hand and pain ran through his muscles. When the lightning stopped, Lance was left heaving for breath on his side.
He felt like the Extra Crispy option on a fried chicken menu. Was God trying to make him go vegetarian through sheer number of shared experiences? Screw that. In fact..
Lance glared back up at them and forced out the words, “Screw. You,” from between clenched teeth and struggling breaths.
He wished he could see the fury he knew was behind those masks.
The druid lifted their hand again and though Lance tried to fight the flinch, he wasn't sure if he succeeded. Instead of lightning, he felt the tight restraints of their magic envelope him and lift him up. He couldn’t even struggle out of it.
“Bite your tongue, child, or Haggar may decide to teach you some manners,” The druid growled and turned around, making their cloak swirl dramatically. Lance wished he could scoff at them, but the paralyzation made that difficult.
“And she will not be as merciful as I was.”
He settled for a particularly scathing, derisive glare. Lance thought they got the message anyways.
He was so focused on trying to burn a hole through their back that he almost missed where they were going. Almost. He hadn’t thought any of the directions stuck through his headache, but now… they were going back to the same room as before.
To Haggar.
He knew he was right when he spotted the Lady Hunchback herself leaning over a table. Seriously, when was the last time that woman stood up straight all the way? When she finished sharing tips and tricks with Satan and Hitler?
“I’d hate to be your chiropractor, lady. I bet it’s costly to find someone even able to tolerate your presence.” He was hoping for at least a twitch as the Druids forced the manacles into place on the table.
Instead, it was his heart that skipped a few paces upon realizing it must have been the same table he’d woken up on.
“I can’t imagine anyone would willingly come near you, despite being paid,” He sneered. It worked as a good enough distraction from what he knew was gonna happen. At least, it worked until she turned around.
“Quite the contrary, little Paladin,” Haggar reached her hands out to his head, clawed fingernails keeping him from leaning away, “I think you and I are going to get very close.”
Lance screamed again as pain shot through his skill. It felt like needles being shoved through his eye, he couldn't even-
It burned. It burned. It burned!
Please! Please Somebody! Help!
I can't-!
“Show me your team, Paladin,” A voice whispered, “SHoW ME Voltron!”
Pain surged again in time with his screams. Idly, some part of him wondered if he could burst his own eardrums.
His thoughts were crushed beneath crashing waves of searing, hot, burning, hot, it’s too hot, it hurts, it hurts it hurts, please please I can't do this I don't want-, somebody please!
Sharp claws cut a path through his mind. These ones didn't hurt.
No.
These claws came from soft padded paws. Metal and yet somehow gentle. Cold and soothing. He walked towards them, down the path they had laid for him, desperate for whatever small relief they could provide. Some distant piece of his soul recognized his bond between lion and paladin. But she was so far away. He could see the doors opened for him, welcoming him home, home to the water. But the path was so long and so dark.
He glanced down.
Dark?
No. It wasn't meant to be dark.
Burning tingled at his fingertips when he looked harder. His lion was blue. A gorgeous sky blue, ocean blue, ice blue. Then why….
Why was there purple leaching its way across it?
He looked behind him.
The heat worsened, pain closer than he remembered it.
His footsteps were clear behind him, each one oozing sickly, purple slime that curled its way around the light. Covering every inch of the gentle blue.
This wasn’t right. Something wasn't-
Sharpness spiked across his skull, snapping his head forward.
“Focus. Focus! Closer. Get closer! You cannot resist me! Not weak like you are!”
Something forced him forward and he stumbled on the path, falling to one knee. He reached to steady himself on the path; and different worlds flowed through his mind.
You’ve done this before, Cub. You can do it again.
They were his words. And they were Blue’s.
But he knew what they meant. He remembered it now. How Haggar was trying to get to his team, to Voltron, to Blue.
What she wanted from them. From him.
no. No. No!
“You cannot have her, Haggar! Not ever!” Lance turned around and moved away from the doors. The bond. Away from Blue.
Fresh agony layered on his skin. Heavier and thicker and stronger with each step.
He could hear Blue behind him now, calling out for him in mewls and cries. She wanted them to do this together. But he couldn’t, they couldn't do it together without endangering her. Endangering everybody. So he kept running. Pushing through what felt like thick slime until he was struggling to keep moving.
The smog pressed itself down his throat, burning, scalding and tearing him up on the inside.
Haggar was shouting out behind him too. She could only go so far, only get so close to her goal with him.
“I will take control, Paladin! You cannot stop me!” Claws grabbed his upper arms and pulled him back. They left deep gashes on his biceps and shoulders, but he pushed against their leverage.
“You don’t think I can stop you Haggar!?” He glanced over his shoulder at her glowing yellow eyes, “Watch Me!”
He turned around and reached into the darkness of her body without form, clutching onto the thickness he felt inside of it. Even as its essence burned like hot acid on his skin.
And then he threw his body backwards, taking her with him.
Away from the doors and through the barrier of Haggar’s magic. Away from Blue and through the pain.
Off of the path.
Almost immediately he felt Haggar get thrown from his mind.
He gathered what little peace he could find. The crashing waves came to a standstill for just one moment. It was enough.
It had to be.
He wanted to cry. Tears welled up in his eyes. He knew this was the best chance he would get to do so, but he couldn't. Not until it was over. Then he could break, could cry, or do whatever the hell it is that is supposed to come after this.
He looked back to stare through the thick, writhing purple of Haggar’s magic. He could see the glimmer of his bond with Blue. Of the ‘path’ they had laid that first day together.
It was dimmed now. Not just by the smoke obscuring his view, but by the purple sludge seeping into its bricks.
She’d gotten farther this time. Closer. More so than Lance had ever wanted Haggar to get. He knew he was struggling, struggling to keep the distance between his bond and her corruption.
It was weird. To be able to look back and remember himself forgetting something. Forgetting how many times they’d had this battle. This push and pull in his own mind.
He still didn't know just how long he’d been fighting back to keep her away. Just that he had. And that he’d keep doing it.
But he was losing.
A traitorous part of his heart told him this couldn’t go on forever. Something had to give, and as it was, Lance was not liking his odds. Something would have to break eventually.
But not yet.
He couldn't let go of her yet. He couldn't. Even if that made him weak, he couldn’t.
Not yet.
He just wanted to stay here a little longer. Stay with her a little longer.
The corrupted magic clearly disagreed with this prospect. Its char-colored surface rippled back to life. Waves were heard in a distance that did not exist.
They were not the bright, colorful waves of his home, nor the cold but fierce waves of his lion, these were riptide waves. Powered by the undertow and ready to pull him under. Drowning and suffocating him, farther, farther down.
He lost sight of the glow at some point, and the darkness snatched him under instantly.
-x-x-x-
The druids stared at the body of their mistress over the Voltron Paladin. So many times before, it had been the same. The same resistance and weakness from him. The same ignorant stubbornness as he protected what their Emperor deserved. He would fall to their magic eventually. As the one before him, and the countless subjects before that. He would fall.
But there were doubts.
They watched as Lady Haggar was flung back from the Paladin as she had been so many times before.
The doubts stood still. Ever wavering, faltering but not falling.
Lady Haggar lifted herself up and neither druid so much as twitched to help her. They knew better.
“He thinks himself strong, thinks himself righteous,” She crowed in that tone that said he so clearly wasn’t, “But his naivety costs him. I grow closer by the day.”
They saw barely a flash of white when Lady Haggar bared her teeth, “But that Lion keeps reminding him, keeps undoing my spells. He needs to be broken; and soon.”
The Druid refrained from mentioning that the spells for the invasion of his mind could only be broken by the strength of ones own quintessence. Reminded of strength, yes; but not given it or shared.
He was a Paladin of Voltron for a reason, though flawed that reason may be.
Lady Haggar finally turned attention to her druids, to fulfill their purpose under her command.
“Rid him of his weaknesses. No weaknesses, and nothing to chance.” She growled as low as a female galra could, “I will get that Lion from him, one way or another.”
As Lady Haggar stepped back, the druids stepped forward, up to the helpless paladin. His face was clear, unburdened and untense. That would change soon. They reached out with their arms and their magic, delving into the surface mind of this Paladin. Only the surface, Lady Haggar would do the rest.
The druids looked to each other, then to their mistress. He was ready, the spell prepared once again.
And from the front of the table, magic shot forward from her fingertips, into the mind, body and quintessence of the Child Paladin.
Their druid magic was nothing to the level of Lady Haggar, the Dark Witch of the Galra; and yet, it was their magic that ripped into his mind and made it possible for her to latch onto his memories.
They laid him bare, and she took what she needed.
The Paladin could do nothing. Would continue to do nothing. Not in the face of the empire’s power.
Then why must we keep repeating this process. The doubts whispered.
The druid ignored the words, focusing instead on the drawing of their power for the spell. When it was finished, the Druids stepped back once more, and Lady Haggar drew forward.
How would the Paladin awake this time?
His face began twitching. Slow, just as the last time.
“What do you remember?”
Nothing.
“Do you remember?”
Why did she ask him this? Their spell would only fail at the interference of the Voltron Lion. It was infallible to tricks of the mind.
The Paladin’s consciousness came closer to the surface. Still too slow. Always slow, this paladin. Magic was infallible and uncompromising, but Lady Haggar was not as patient.
She threw a spark of her magic onto the boy’s chest and instantly, he awoke. He jolted forward against the cuffs, no doubt hitting bruising from the pain of his struggles during Lady Haggar’s procedure.
Recognition flashed across his face. Focus drawn only to their Mistress, just as he was meant to. This was important, his mind still laid open for her to search, she drew her eyes onto his as her magic probed for information. Voltron could not hide forever.
The Paladin jerked forward once again, as if he had not learned the first time, “What do you want, witch?!” He shouted, pulling against his restraints. They would hold, this child was weak. Too weak.
“I said, What..” Lady Haggar creeped forward, clamping her hand around his chin, “Do you remember?” Her magic crawled forward, coating the recesses of his mind as she worked to pull forward his thoughts, his knowledge on Voltron.
His efforts to pull away were futile, though expected, “What the hell are you talking about, you freak!?” Voltron. Voltron. The Other Paladins. Tell us. Tell us of Voltron, the magic chanted.
“You won't get anything from me, I won’t betray Voltron!-” Lady Haggar pushed deeper and pain flashed beneath his eyes, “You won't find my team, not through me!” The trench opened in his mind began to close, Lady Haggar’s magic pulling back.
Accomplishment flitted across her face in pairing with irritation. He was still resisting then… surprising but not irreparable. “We shall see if that is true, Paladin.”
The Paladin seemed confused, but then again, he always did. He was weak and feeble-minded after all, nothing more could be expected.
“I’ll never betray my team and you'll never be able to make me! That will never change!” He shouted. So loud, so foolish.
Lady Haggar pulled back her hand as the last of the Druid’s spell closed, they would have to try again. She looked to the druids, and drew the Paladin’s eyes to them as well. He had not noticed them. Poor awareness, weak yet again. This is why the spell worked so well on young, unguided minds. It led them to purpose. The Empire’s purpose.
“Take him to the cell,” She looked back at him slightly, “Leave him there until I summon for you again. We shall see his results after I have viewed the information gained. Succession is at hand.”
“Vrepit Sa,” Both Druids nodded and turned to the Paladin, their hands coated in magic. A paralytic, they were too close to risk escape with this prisoner.
But you have been ‘close’ for a while now, haven’t you?
The paladin’s eyes widened, his heart jumped pace and his quintessence fluctuated before being frozen by the spell. As if the body could fight it, the spell was instantaneous with contact. Simple and complete.
The Druid’s magic worked in concession to lift the Paladin and disconnect his restraints without removing them. Silently, they began the walk to the cell.
They could see the panic and confusion in the child’s eyes as they turned each corner. It was pitiful that the magic coating his mind would leave him helpless for hours. Still, the effort was commendable. A sign of potential perhaps.
His eyes started to glaze over dim, perhaps not then, if he lost presence that fast. He held little use past his title as Paladin.
It was with this thought that they tossed his unpresence into the cell. Without a fight, this Paladin was nothing more than knowledge to be collected and tested.
The Druids moved away, uncaring at the shout when the Paladin came back to himself as he hit the ground. They closed the door without mind.
Then stepped to the side.
Magic made one weak if you allowed it to. Weakness made one vulnerable and vulnerability was to be exploited. So, they waited; to see if the Paladin had changed in the hours under Lady Haggar’s influence.
His groan echoed quietly through the metal door. After much hesitance, and many pauses, the Paladin began moving. His shuffles were quiet, but his vocalizations of his pain were not.
Lady Haggar had left marks on him this time, his upper arms and shoulders were marked with scratches like a wild Krelshi.
They listened to him rest again, presumably sitting rather than laying now. As he always was when they came back.
The metal of his cuff clinked softly against the cell walls. The druids looked to each other, a wonder if the Paladin would remain the same in his patterns.
Indeed, not a minute passed until they heard the unsure sounds of his untranslated, broken language whisper through the air.
Neither of them understood it. These were not words. They could not be translated. They were just sounds. Gripped by craziness or something else, they were still just sounds.
Then, a small laugh. A chuffing. Even in a place like this for the prisoner. Always the same.
“Oh don't you worry, creepy wall carving, I think it’d be pretty hard to forget this.”
Always the same, the paladin. Always the same.
-x-x-x-
In some other world, Lance might have wondered why the words carved into the wall were written in English.
He may have even noticed that the handwriting looked scarily similar to his own despite the pitch black darkness.
This was not one of those worlds.
And he did not notice.
First Chapter: https://snaileer.tumblr.com/post/613092735756402688/chips-and-salsa-chp-1
Next Chapter: Not Out Yet! But Soon!
Also double-posted on fanfiction.net and Ao3 under the same name!
#voltron#vld#voltron legendary defender#voltron lance#lance voltron#langst#klance#laith#keith voltron#voltron keith#blue lion#red lion#shiro voltron#voltron shiro#takashi shirogane#keith kogane#lance mclain#lance mcclain#pidge gunderson#pidge holt#katie holt#pidge voltron#voltron pidge#voltron hunk#hunk voltron#hunk garret#allura votlron#voltron allura#coran voltron#voltron coran
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Whumptober Day 4: Caged
CW: Referenced whump of a minor (sorry, Trainee!Chris), brief implied noncon of a minor reference, noncon touching (of adult), referenced pet whump, referenced bruising, referenced dubcon/noncon of adult
John Ferrick and B (referenced, unnamed) belong to @moose-teeth and is used with permission
“Hey, Manning, look at this.” Luke waggled his phone - standard company-issue, big enough to be more a tablet than a fucking communication device, but the company paid, and they didn’t care if Luke had a few game apps installed on the side.
Connor glanced up from his own lunch, where he was picking at “shrimp fettuccine alfredo”, which at least got the pasta and sauce right, but contained the three smallest shrimps that Luke Petrus had ever seen. A side salad, some garlic bread, and Connor’s usual bottle of made-at-home iced coffee completed the meal.
This was why Luke volunteered for overnight multi-day shifts and got to have his little studio apartment down in the long-term halls. He ate whatever the fuck he wanted. Which, granted, was mostly nachos and cups of soup, but the point still stood.
“What is it, Petrus?” Connor sounded bored, but he mostly sounded like that all the time these days. Moping around like he had a stick up his ass, and Petrus kind of missed the fun Connor Manning, but whatever. Some of the handlers got that way after a while, and they’d cycle through the fucking mopery and come out the other side, in the end.
Or they’d quit.
Or pop up in a white shirt and shorts.
“Look at the stupid shit my trainee’s doing right now.”
Connor didn’t even perk up a little at that, and his eyes shifted away, looking across the bustling cafeteria, eyebrows furrowing just a little. Petrus shifted in his seat and turned to look as well - he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just a few handlers and Ferrick from Acquisitions in line for lunch. He sighed and turned back.
“Come on, Manning, try to look like you have a well-paying job with great benefits for five minutes, huh?”
Connor blinked, looking back at him. “Uh, yeah. Right. Sorry. I’m just…” He waved his fork near his head in a vague gesture. “Not having the best week.” He shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. “What did you want to show me?”
Luke grinned, flashing bright teeth. “My trainee. Look at him.” He handed over the phone, pulled up to a live view from the camera installed in the corner of the ceiling of his current favorite trainee’s room.
Connor’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Fuck, this is one of the underagers. You know I hate that shit, Petrus. Fucking sick.” He handed the phone back over, but Petrus only pushed it back.
“Nah, forget about that. Just look at what he’s doing.”
The short little trainee, drowning in the white t-shirt and black shorts, and with his shock collar cutting apart the pretty line of his neck, was pacing.
His coppery hair shifted in the constant cold air blowing into the room from unseen vents as he moved - a few steps from end to end and back again, over and over, stepping one foot carefully in front of the other, heel-to-toe, heel-to-toe. There was no sound to the video, but Petrus knew if there was, the boy would be counting, one step two step three step four step, in his low voice, stammering through the words.
The stammer was cute, but he’d get rid of it before the prospective took him home.
The trainee turned and walked back the way he’d just come, toe-to-heel-to-toe-to-heel, until he hit the wall again. Then turned around and repeated it. Covering every single inch of tile along the floor, from one side of the tiny room to the other, before he started it all over again. His hands were twisted into his shirt, kneading and pulling at the thin cotton. His head jerked to the side on occasion, bumping into the wall, in a rhythm only he understood.
Petrus snorted, while Connor only looked at it, almost blankly. “Pacing like a fucking tiger at the zoo in his little cage.” Luke’s voice dipped into affectionate warmth. “He’s gorgeous, right? Pretty little thing, now that I fixed his little defiance problem, and so eager to-”
“Stop.” Connor snorted, jabbing his fork back into his pasta.
“You can’t tell me he doesn’t look good like that.”
“He looks like a fucking teenager, and I stopped thinking high schoolers looked good when I stopped fucking being one, you perverted piece of shit. On the outside, someone like you would be in prison.”
“Oh, and you wouldn’t, you fucking rapist?”
Connor sat back, pale except for bright red spots on his cheeks. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, good point. Maybe we should all be in prison.”
“Manning, that isn’t… Jesus.” Luke sat back, staring slightly wide-eyed, caught off-guard. “I just don’t see why you give a fuck if he’s under eighteen.”
Connor glanced up, and there was a weird spark of anger in his dark eyes that made Luke oddly uneasy. “Because I don’t go for that, and you know it. When I was-… it doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t. 499’s got energy like you wouldn’t believe, you’re missing out. Although it’s a pity watching him wear himself out. Hate to let him get it out in there when he could be using it correctly on my training table.”
Connor handed the phone back over, shrugging, his eyes back on the line over on the other side of the room and not on Luke at all. “Then go fucking train him, Luke. Stop showing me underagers, you know I hate that shit. I don’t think we should do that, I don’t want shit to do with it. The Director made a monster fucking decision and-”
Luke leaned forward, voice dropping into a hissed whisper. “Jesus Christ, Manning, shut the fuck up, you know it gets back to her when you talk shit about her ideas. She was the one to introduce the program-”
“And it was gross, and a fucking mistake. Gross as fuck.”
“Oh, like you’re so fucking innocent. Sanctimonious asshole.” Luke pocketed his phone, swallowing against a mix of defensiveness and residual unease. “Keep your holier-than-thou shit to yourself if you know what’s good for you.”
“I don’t give a fuck who hears me, let them go pass it along to the Director. I don’t give a fuck. All of this… no. I don’t care about it anymore. I just… I just don’t.”
“Then quit. It’s a free fuckin’ country - leave if you hate your job so much.”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ well will.”
“When?”
Connor’s anger died, all at once, and Luke was struck by how much he looked like one of the pets, in that moment - haunted and uncertain. Luke wondered what the fuck was wrong with him these days. Connor had been a top handler once, always cheerful, always smiling - now he was calling in sick all the time, acting like this in public where anyone could see him do it… criticizing the Director, for Christ’s sake.
“As soon as I can,” Connor said, in a low voice. “As soon as I fucking can. As soon as he’ll sign off on my baby.”
“Your what-”
“Don’t make me look at that poor kid again, Luke.”
“That poor-… he’s a fucking pet like the rest of them, Manning. You should talk to the company therapist or something if you’re feeling like this.”
“And have the Head of Training Operations hear about my fucking feelings? No fucking thanks, Luke.”
“Yeah, well. I’m going to go wear the shit out of that trainee. Get your fucking head on straight, Manning, before someone important notices it’s crooked.” Luke pushed himself to his feet, thumb rubbing over the camouflage phone case, frowning in thought as he walked away.
John Ferrick’s lunch tray dropped onto the table next to Connor with a clatter and Connor jumped, keeping his eyes down, red flaring in his face. “What the fuck was that, Manning? You and Petrus don’t chitchat.”
“He wanted to show me his fucking trainee. You know how he is.” Connor picked at his food, not looking up as Ferrick settled himself comfortably into the seat next to him. He tensed when Ferrick’s hand slid over his thigh, rubbing into the inside through the fabric of his work pants. “Ferrick, stop it-”
“Try again,” Ferrick said, smugly, sliding his hand up even higher, pressing hard into just the right-
Connor hissed through his teeth as Ferrick’s thumb pressed into a bruising set of teeth marks. “Shit. Fuck, Ferrick-”
“What, already? I didn’t wear you out during our ‘poker game’ last night?” Ferrick began to rub in circles over the bruise, around and around the spaces where his own teeth had dug so deeply into Connor’s skin that you could probably use dental records to identify who did it. “You want me to stop, use your fuckin’ manners.”
Connor’s teeth ground together audibly. “Please stop, sir,” He managed to spit out, barely moving his lips, in a whisper.
Ferrick’s hand shifted back to pick up his own little plastic fork. He’d chosen the vegetarian option, black bean cakes with salsa and sour cream, and hummed happily. One of his favorite cafeteria meals, really. “Better. Maybe I’ll let you see your dog later, if you keep being so polite.”
“I can’t wait until he’s ready so I can tell you to fuck off as I drive the fuck away,” Connor muttered.
Ferrick just smiled. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m damn good and ready to let you go, Manning, and you know it. Not if you don’t want me to declare your fucking dog too broken to be fixed… or let the Director know about your hot little pain problem.”
Connor swallowed, and honestly… he wished he could start pacing right now, too.
There was more than one way to be caged.
#whumptober 2020#whumptober#no. 4#caged#connor manning just wants to be friends#luke petrus is a piece of garbage#john ferrick is hot but confusing for connor okay#referenced noncon#whump of a minor#referenced dubcon#blackmail#box boy#box boy universe
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Red Rose (1)
Jaebum mafia au
two / three / four
pairing: Jaebum x Reader genre: mafia!au, romance, drama, angst, mature plot: your high school sweetheart, Im Jaebum, is the most feared criminal and you’re his one true love a/n: a long time ago, i asked y’all which one of my stories you wanted. you have probs forgotten about it by now, but here y’all go. Red Rose. I’m so excited! hope y’all like it <3 not edited
The golden lights of the diner spilled onto late night streets outside. A rag clothe hung from your swinging waist, as your feet lightly tapped to the sound on the radio.
“I love you baby!” you belted into the mop you were using to wipe the cream floors, your shoulders moved to the rhythm. Your whole body felt alive as the words left you.
You loved staying at the diner during late night shift. The easy feeling of nostaglia hung into the air, the streets empty and quiet, and the world before you drowning in golden halo from the lights hanging low from the ceilings.
Everything was happy, the whole would was yours and only yours.
You liked being at the diner; up, alive and happy. It was better than being holed up in your house; alone, sad and dying of bordoem.
You loved the song on the radio. It was a favourite of you and your boyfriends. Well, your ex-boyfriend, and the only boyfriend you’ve ever had.
You smiled at the memory of him.
You were both sitting in his retro car, staring down at the city lights replacing the starry night that might have been. He looked over at you, a mischevious glint in his eyes. He reaches out and turns the dial up making the radio louder.
A little giggle leaves you, as he starts moving his shoulders dancing to the beat, as he scrunched his face jamming to the song.
His sweet voice softly began singing along to the songs.
“I love you, baby!” suddenly, he sang dramatically. He threw his head back and shaking his troussled dark locks. Your giggle turning into a laughter, as he attempted some fancy salsa moves in his seat.
His warm hands traced in your jaw, in dramatic seduction, singing with all his soul. He nodded his head at you, telling you to join in.
You hesitiated for a moment before giving in.
“Oh pretty baby! Don’t bring me down I pray!” You joined him, belting at the top of your lungs.
You sang louder, giving it your best, getting lost somewhere in between the song, reality and love.
Just as the song ended, he leaned in placing a kiss on your lips that took your breath away. Your shy eyes met his playful brown ones, gleaming with want and love.
“I love you, y/n,” he bit his lip unsurely. “I know it’s a bit too soon, but I - I just can’t pretend that I don’t. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up, and last before I go to sleep. When I’m with you everything else leaves my head, and when I’m not with you, you’re all that I think of. I am loosing my mind being in love with you. There’s no way I could hide it.”
He looked away from your glazed eyes; his eyes searching the console inbetween us as he spoke so rapidly. You felt tears filling your eyes, as a smile grew on your lips.
“I’m sorry if I-”
“You idiot.” You grabbed his collar, before cutting him off, pressing your lips against his.
“That idiot,” you whispered shaking your head at the memory.
The song had finished and another one started playing. You hummed along, trying not to think of him.
He was perfect. He was the kindest and sweetest guy you had ever met. He was always a gentleman. Even in moments, when you were begging for him, he’d make sure you were a hundred percent sure. And he was always there for you.
He taught you how to drive, how to dance. How to be free and happy. He taught you how to love yourself.
He was your ‘the one.’ It had been six years since you both broke up in college. After his dad had passed away, he completely fell apart. You had tried to be there for him, but he began pushing you away. No matter what you did he would always push you away, until one day, he just disappeared without a trace.
You searched him up on social media sometimes, but nothing ever came up.
He was the one that had gotten away.
He was the one for you.
He was the one you thought of whenever you watched a movie or listened to a song. Every time something reminded you of him, you got swept away in memories of him. All the good memories he left in your basket; all the happiness and light of the world.
If only you could meet him one more time.
The bell rang from the main door, as a group of men walked in.
“Make your self comfortable, I’ll be there in a sec,” you greeted them, before rushing to put away the cleaning supplies.
You returned with a coffee jug, and a welcoming smile.
“Hey guys, coffee? What can I get for you guys?” You poured coffee into the cups. “The waffles are normally a hot sale at this time.”
“Clearly,” one of them chuckled looking around the empty diner. You offered him a tight smile as you nodded before noting down their orders.
“Cool. Got it, your order will be ready in a bit.” You started walking away, ripping the order from the notebook.
“Can we have one more cup, another person is joining us,” the tallest one asked.
“Sure, no problem.”
The bell rang as someone entered the diner. You assumed it was the one person the group was waiting for, as they all greeted him.
“Over here,” one of them called out.
“Yugyeom, I can see you,” the new guy spoke, making you freeze in your place. “this place is emptier than a graveyard at midnight.”
No, no it couldn’t be... right?
You gulped and took a deep breath, as you dusted the imaginary dust from your apron.
You picked up the cup, and began walking towards the group.
A sigh of relief left you, as you couldn’t spot the face you were looking for.
However, the sigh wasn’t one of complete relief. Worry wouldn’t have caused your heart to speed up like this. It wouldn’t have made your hands shake so nervously.
You placed the cup on the table, and poured coffee into it.
“Would you like to add something else to your order?” You asked looking at the two boys infront of you.
“I’d like to add a chocolate sundae,” the tall one said making you turn to face him.
“Hey! It’s three at night, Yugyeom!” One of the others said.
Yugyeom replied, but you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t hear anything.
A heavy silence blanketed over you as your eyes met his melthing chocolate eyes wide with shock.
It was him. It was Im Jaebum. Your first boyfriend. Your first and probably only true love.
Your jaw slightly hung loose as you stared at him, unable to find the strength look away.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god..
“Your order will be right up.” You turned, unblinkingly, and told the rest of the group before walking away.
Your back fell against the kitchen wall as soon as you were out of sight. Your heart beat loudly in your ears, as your knees felt weak beneath you.
Oh my god.
It was him, wasn’t it?
What was he doing here?
Did he recognise me? No, there’s no way he did.
Your hand clenched the front of your collar, doing nothing to calm your racing heart. that was beating out of its cage. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths.
“I have waffles to make,” you muttered to yourself, as you got off the wall and began doing did just that.
#jaebum#mafia#got7#fanfic#smut#angst#fluff#romance#dangerous#red rose#hope y'all like it#not edit#pretty badly written#but the only way is up#new series
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Chiffon & Steel
(or how Jeff Tracy and Penelope Creighton-Ward first met)
—
Summer was in full swing on Tracy Island, yet somehow in the midst of oil fires, asteroids and hurricanes, they still found time to be together for a monthly barbecue. With Alan home for the long haul, it was ruckus as usual, the boys splashing about in the pool trying to dunk one another. Tin-Tin (growing up nicely, one could note) had found a spot to take in a bit of sun, while Kyrano and Ohana worked the grill. The Island had visitors today in the form of Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward and Aloysius Parker. The lady’s chauffeur had found himself a nice lawn chair and was reading the paper, while Lady Penelope sat with Jeff Tracy, overlooking the scene before them.
“I don’t know how you do it, Jefferson. Truly, I don’t.” Penelope mused, staring at the chessboard which was spread between them, “so much boyish fuss.
“Ah, but that’s the best part.” Jeff mumbled, still caught between moves. Sliding a pawn across the board, he grunted slightly in displeasure, “you always were better at chess then me.”
“Fathers doing I’m afraid,” Penelope sighed, taking said pawn with her knight, “Such a stuffy game, chess.”
“I still don’t know why you put up with that empty old house of yours. You really shouldn’t box yourself up so much.”
Jeff moved another pawn to try and counter Penelope’s impending check, and succeeded as the woman chuckled and tipped her head.
“You know this life isn’t for me, Jeff. The excitement of it all. My father would throw a fit if he ever found out what I’d been up to before we met. And can you imagine what the tabloids would say? The scandal.”
Moving her rook, Jeff once again grumbled and held his chin.
“Yes, I suppose he would. But you were so young then, Penny. You’re still so young.”
“I found my first gateway wrinkle the other day Jeff,” Penelope mused, kicking over one of Jeff’s pawns, “check.”
But the man wasn’t focused on the game anymore, rather the caged woman sitting before him.
“Penny, I remember those days before International Rescue like they were yesterday.” He insisted, causing sapphire eyes to glance up in surprise as the man half rose from his seat, “We chased stolen weapons through the Venetian canals and hunted for smuggled gold in Peru,”
“Jeff…” Penelope breathed, a flush of red coming
to her cheeks as the man continued, his hands waving in the air as his tone grew wistful.
“We jumped trains to avoid traffickers in India, sunk the boat of marine poachers in Argentina, and crossed borders in Mexico for crime lords. Don’t you ever miss those times?”
“Not particularly, no,” Penelope insisted, gasping as Jeff hauled her up from the chair. Having an audience didn’t seem to matter as he spun her dramatically on the concrete, causing a giggle to leave her throat.
“Come on, Pen. We danced salsa by firelight in Cuba. You remember,”
“Yes I do.” Swinging into Jeff’s chest as he wrapped his arms around her, Penelope rolled her eyes dramatically, “you held me just like this while you were madly in love with another woman, and with a son already on the way.”
The man giving a hearty chuckle as Penny shook him off, she straightened out her dress and folded her arms defiantly, “I hardly recall any of those moments being remotely good. Running for my life to avoid getting captured, tortured, or shot at isn’t necessarily a dream vacation. You haven’t forgotten the day we met, have you?”
“Of course not,” Jeff insisted, puffing out his chest with pride, “the boys at poker love to see the scar.”
Before the banter could continue between the pair, a harsh cough caught their attention. All eyes were on them, even Parker, who was watching from behind his paper.
“Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds,” Gordon mocked, sitting on the end of the diving board, “but are you going to let the rest of us in on this little song and dance, or do we have to guess?”
“It’s nothing,” Penny insisted, placing her hands on her hips, “just a reminding your father why I stay in my stuffy old manor,”
“Hardly. That day was the beginning of the beginning,” Jeff insisted, “you wouldn’t believe it boys, but when I first met Penelope, she shot me.”
The ‘what’s!’ That chorused across the pool deck made the commander of International Rescue grin in victory as Penelope held a hand to her forehead, blushing madly with embarrassment.
“You shot our dad, Lady P?” Alan accused, “why?”
“I wish I could say it was simply a lucky break on my end,” She admitted, “but it was your father who walked right into the middle of a war zone.”
“I didn’t walk into anything. I was in front of my hotel.” Jeff complained, “you were the one holding the rifle.”
“It was a .47 Phantom Striker. Top of the line back then.” Penelope insisted, waving a finger in Jeff’s face before jabbing him in the chest with a manicured nail, “and I still have it in the boot of FAB 1 if you want another something to show to your poker friends.”
“Alright, that’s enough. Break it up you two, this isn’t the place for a lovers tiff.”
It was Virgil who came between them, forcing the two adults into their separate chairs as Penelope steamed and Jeff continued to chuckle, “since you’ve made a scene already, you,” pointing at Penelope, “need to tell us how you managed to shoot dad.”
“It wasn’t on purpose,” the woman complained, “I was 18 years old, I’d only just learned how to shoot.”
“That's a bluff and you know it,” Jeff insisted, still grinning as Penelope sat back into the wicker seat with a nose huff of indignance, “I don’t know what they taught you at that finishing school, Pen, but it wasn’t how to hold a tea cup. Kyrano!”
Leaning over his shoulder to summon the man from the grill, he came over with a smile, spatula still in hand.
“Yes, Mr. Tracy?”
“Could you fetch a photograph from inside my office? The one inside the bottom drawer.”
“Yes of course, right away.”
“You didn’t keep that blasted thing did you, Jeff?” Penelope whined, “Oh please tell me you didn’t keep it!”
“Of course I kept it, Pen. It’s one of my fondest memories of you.” Jeff chuckled, taking the paper which Kyrano handed to him only a few moments later, “take a look boys.”
Crowding around the table still in their swimsuits, the photo itself was old and had worn edges and corners. The two figures in the photo sat in the back of a military jeep, surrounded by a landscape yellowed with dust. A younger looking Jeff Tracy sat on one side of the bed, his arm in a cloth sling and a youthful smile hidden under a dirty fedora. Penelope — still on the brink of adulthood in the picture — sat on the other side, leaning her weight on a long muzzled rifle. She too was smiling, but smaller, like the sun and sand had been physically beat into her.
“I’d been sleeping on the ground for a week when this was taken,” Penelope mused, shaking her head slightly as the image was passed from person to person, “it was my first solo assignment. It was supposed to be intelligence only, cut and dry. But a move had been made which my...hem, supervisors, weren’t expecting. So the plan changed unexpectedly.”
“If that’s the word you want to use for it, Penny.” Jeff chided, causing the woman to roll her eyes as the boys looked between one another.
“Well now you have to tell us the whole story,” Scott complained, “right guys?”
The group made noises of agreement as Penelope once again found herself blushing, watching the group gather around the base of the table like a primary school reading circle. Even Tin-Tin had caught ear of the conversation, and dragged her lawn chair across the pool deck as to be closer.
“Come on Penny, it’s a great story,” Jeff insisted, “and I know you tell it better then I do.”
“Oh...very well. I do love a captive audience.” Penelope insisted wistfully, “The year was 2047 I believe, and I had been in the small county of Asafar just North of Iran for almost two weeks…”
—
For those of you who saw the gif and thought I was stealing, that was 100% NOT my intention. So I took it off and am adding some stills instead. Thanks to the one who reached out and let me know so I could make the adjustment.
A/N: Thunderbirds 2004 has a very special place in my heart. I love Sophia Myles as Penelope, and I adore the flirty combo of Penny and Jeff portrayed in the film. This was written with that dynamic in mind ❤️
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds are go fanfiction#thunderbirds 2004#lady penelpe creighton ward#jeff tracy#FanFiction#oneshot#film
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RP meme from "Clerks"
Man goes into cage. Cage goes into salsa. Shark's in the salsa. Our shark.
Bunch of savages in this town
There's a million fine looking girls in the world. But they don't all bring you lasagna to work. Most of them just cheat on you.
What do you mean there's no ice? You mean I gotta drink this coffee hot?
Ooh! Navy seals!
Do you have that one with that guy who was in that movie that came out last year?
That's beautiful, man
There's nothing more exhilarating than pointing out the shortcomings of others, is there?
This job would be great if it wasn't for the fucking customers.
Yeah. [NAME], your a rude motherfucker, you know that? But you're cute as hell. I could go down on you, suck you, line up three other guys, make like a circus seal.
That's what life is, a series of down endings.
All 'Jedi' had was a bunch of Muppets.
My mom's been fuckin' a dead guy for 30 years. I call him dad.
They say so much, but they never tell you if it's any good.
I don't watch movies
Well, have you heard anything about either one of them?
I find it's best to stay out of other people's affairs.
I don't appreciate your ruse
Hey! You're not allowed to [THING] here anymore!
My love for you is like a truck, BERZERKER! Would you like some making fuck, BERZERKER!
Are there any balls down there?
I'm gonna fuck this bitch, I'll fuck this bitch, I'll fuck ANYTHING THAT MOVES!
Yo, what the fuck you lookin' at? I'll kick your fuckin' ass! Shit yeah.
Doesn't that mother fucker owe me 10 bucks?
You know, fuckin' tonight, we're gonna rip off this fucker's head, and tear out his fuckin' soul.
I'm gonna shit in the motherfucker's bag
What's up sluts?
Noinch, Noinch, Noinch, Schmokin Weed, Schmokin' Weed, Doin' Coke, Drinkin' Beers...
I had some girlfriends too, but all they wanted from me is weed and shit.
What's a good plate with nothing on it?
I don't care if she's my cousin or not, I'm gonna knock those boots again tonight.
Hey what you want, Grizzly Adams?
Someone jammed gum in the locks.
A woman makes a guy cum, it's standard. A guy makes a woman cum, it's talent.
You'll sleep with anything that says 'yes.'
My girlfriend sucked 37 dicks!
Shocking abuse of authority.
I'm a firm believer in the philosophy of a ruling class. Especially since I rule.
People say crazy shit during sex. One time I called this girl "mom."
She broke your heart and inadvertently drove men to deviant lifestyles.
That's what high school was about. Algebra, bad lunch, and infidelity.
He said he has to find the perfect dozen.
Why doesn't he mix and match?
He said it was important to have standards, and he says nobody has any pride anymore.
It's not like you laid the eggs yourself.
That seems to be the late motif in your life, ever backing down.
You always back down. You assume blame that's not yours. You come in on your day off. You buckle like a belt.
Insubordination rules.
How did you get here so fast?
Do you always talk this weird after you violate a woman?
He just sat there and let me do all the work.
We didn't just have sex in the bathroom?
Well I didn't just fuck myself!
Who the fuck's in our bathroom?
You sucked that guy's dick?
How many?! How many dicks have you sucked?!
Why couldn't you sleep with them like any other decent person?
Don't look at me like I'm the town whore, because you were plenty busy yourself before you met me!
I only had sex with the guys I loved
Try not to suck any dick on the way through the parking lot!
That article's accurate
Something just never sat right with me the second time around.
I'll bet they brought independent contractors in on that thing
They'd hire anybody who could do the job
Casualties of a war they had nothing to do with
Along come these left-wing militants that blast everything with their lasers
I'm a contractor myself
A [PROFESSION]'s personal politics come into play heavily when choosing jobs
I'm alive because I knew the risks involved in that particular client
Could never put my finger on it but something just wasn't right.
You knocked the casket over!
Her fucking body fell out!
He broke his neck trying to suck his own dick
Come on, haven't you ever tried to suck your own dick?
You're as curious as the rest of us
I guess everyone gets curious and tries it sometime
You haven't said anything for like twenty minutes.
My life is in the shitter right about now, so if you don't mind, I'd like to stew a bit.
You should shit or get off the pot.
You'll sit there and blame life for dealing a cruddy
hand, never once accepting the responsibility for the way your situation is.
If you hate this job and the people, and the fact that you
have to come in on your day off, then quit.
There are other jobs, and they pay better money. You're bound to be qualified for at least one of them.
This is a life of convenience for you, and any attempt to change it would shatter the pathetic microcosm you've fashioned for yourself.
I'm satisfied with my situation for now.
Melodrama coming from you seems about as natural as an oral bowel movement.
I can't make changes like that in my life.
I'm not the kind of person that disrupts things in order to
shit comfortably.
Women as lovers are basically the same, they just have to be there
Making a male climax isn't at all challenging. Insert somewhere close, preferably moist. Thrust. Repeat.
What an embarrassing way to die.
Title does not dictate behavior
I think the idea or the conception of us dating is a lot more idyllic then what actually happens when we date.
You want to blame somebody? Blame yourself.
I'm stuck in this pit, working for less than slave wages. Working on my day off, the goddamn steel shutters are closed, I deal with every backward ass fuck on the planet. I smell like shoe polish. My ex-girlfriend is catatonic after fucking a dead guy. And my present girlfriend has sucked 36 dicks.
Oh, hey [NAME], break his heart again this time, and I'll kill ya
Such a sordid state of affairs.
I'm not even supposed to be here today!
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Saving Santos - Part 2
Read Part 1 Here
Oscar’s POV
I’m posted up at the grill like normal. Tonight I am making burgers, it’s easier and el novia always seems to like it when we have that. I won’t admit it to her or anyone else but I don’t just feel like I have to take care of her, I mean all the Santos feel that way, I want her to be mine. I want her to stay here at the house where we can spend time together.
A few of the homies are standing around at the grill chopping it up with me. I can feel her before I see her, I always do, but I see el novia out of the corner of my eye. She approaches with that hesitant look she always has but she looks happier to be here tonight. I hold out a taste of the grilled pineapple I am making for the salsa. She smiles and leans towards me. I can feel the heat of her breath on my hand and I wish she’d let me hold her close so I could feel the heat of her whole body against mine.
The others greet her with nods or salutes with their beers and she nods. She may not speak but you can always read her face. Tonight, she’s open, she’ll hang around outside. Some nights I can tell when she first approaches if she’ll stay and hang or if she’ll go inside and make herself useful cleaning up after others. I tried to stop her from it once but that seemed to make her more nervous so now I let her.
She’s nodding her head with the music and it’s least reserved I have ever seen her. And I am admiring how beautiful she looks when she’s letting herself have fun. I turn back to the grill as she turns to look out over the crowd. Before I can register what’s happening I hear her intake a gulp of air, feel the back of my shirt rise and the heavy gun pulled from my belt. I don’t even have time to turn before my shirt falls back into place and I see her back sprinting across the yard. When she reaches the fence post she stops on a dime, sets her feet, and pulls the gun up in one fluid motion. Two things register pretty quickly, first she knows what she’s doing, she’s pulled up and sighted, her feet are set and knees slightly bent. The right hand holds the gun but not too tightly and her finger is on the trigger. In fact she’s ready to pull. Her left hand holds the base of the gun so she’ll have a clear and steady shot. She knows what to do and isn’t fucking around I follow the barrell of the gun.
And second, standing across the other side of the road part way to the house is a guy. He looks about my age, give a few years maybe. He doesn’t look like a cholo. He’s dressed in a pair of more fitted jeans and a brand t-shirt. He’s muscled but he I know I can take him. He’s got his hair cropped like he might be in the military.
I take a few steps towards her and then realize that she has my gun so there’s not much I will be able to do if I have to. I falter, I clench my fists and chomp my teeth. I have more pieces inside but I am not leaving her out here without eyes on her. Sad Eyes and a few of the others realize what’s happening a second after me and pull their guns out of their belts. They start heading in her direction.
I realize that he’s smirking now and continuing to cross the street. He’s talking too low, I can’t hear him but I’m furious at this point. I can feel the rage burning through my veins. Puto. Who does he think he is. Doesn’t he know who we are? I spare a glance around me since my homies are already moving in as back up. As I notice one of the new guys I decide I can take his gun.
The guy across the street now decides to pause as he sees the Santos start to flank her into position. “Alright” he says raising his hands in the air. “Match point” he smiles at her again, humor in his eyes and laughs as he turns around.
There are a couple of midlevel Santos to my left. “Follow him” I say, “And DON’T let him see you. Someone will come switch later. 24 hour eyes homies” I finish through my teeth. They take their orders bumping the table they are sitting behind twice with their fists before they take off down the yard.
It’s not until he’s down around the corner and has to be down the street a ways before she relaxes her stance and turns back towards the party.
“Not as innocent as you seem are you novia” someone says she smiles at them giving a half smirk but her eyes are still tight. I know it’s not possible but I still feel like I can see her heart pounding through her veins. Sad Eyes claps her on the shoulder and I’m sure I see her flinch away a little. She nods at him in thanks and fist bumps him.
As she strides back over to me I hold out my hand for my gun. She raises it, flips the safety back on and drops it in my hand. The metal piece feels heavy in my hand and hot from her touch. But what I notice more than any of that is the trembling in her hand. I reach out to her but she turns out of reach and picks up the things she toppled on her sprint through the yard. No one else seems to notice how fake those smiles are as she makes it look like she’s cool and thankful for the back up.
I can see her eyes wide with fright still well after I am done with the food and put it out. I go back over to her with a burger and she waves it off. I kiss my teeth, she’s blowing me off and it's pissing me off, what was that? ��
She heads off towards the dance floor. I watched her a few minutes before turning around and sitting to eat the food I prepared for her.
An hour or two later Cesar approaches me, “You want to stop her or you want me to?” he asks. I follow his gaze and see el novia near the bar. She has a tequila in each hand downs them, drum rolls on the table as it burns down her throat. She shakes her head and bends down to the cooler. So she’s drinking now. Pulling two Corona’s out of the cooler she pops them open and sets to drinking them. And she’s drinking quickly. “Shit, how many have you seen her have?” I ask Cesar.
“I haven’t been her long” he says, taking a breath like he’s counting, “but when I got her she had a beer in each hand just like that”. He says.
“Fuck, I got it” I say and make my way through the crowd. When I get to her she can barely even stand and she has finished most of the beers. I’ve seen angry drunks, I have seen happy drunks, stupid drunks, sad drunks you name a kind of drunk and I thought I had seen them all. But I have never seen a drunk like this. It’s a completely defeated kind of drunk, it’s like I am looking into the eyes of someone who is already dead, or thinks they are. She’s like a caged animal, like one of those tigers we saw at school once on a trip to the zoo, the kind that pace out their stress and then refuse to eat and end up killing themselves.
When I started over here I was pissed she was pissed but as I look into her eyes all that fades away. I desperately want to know what happened. She’s always been like a wounded bird but this is different. I want to hold her and solve all her problems.
“El novia” I say quietly, but she’s so drunk when she looks at me I can tell she can’t really sort out where she’s supposed to be looking. I grab the beers from her and put them on the counter. Now her nostrils are flaring and she’s angry. But rather than coming at me she starts clawing at her throat. “Ay, ay” I reach for her holding her hands still. “Come on, let’s get you inside”.
We make our way inside and though I want to grab her and haul her inside I know that’s not the best idea. Instead I support her as she stumbles inside. I open the fridge and grab the gatorade I purchased for my own hangover tomorrow and we continue into my bedroom.
When I get there I haul the door shut and sit her on the bed. Handing the bottle to her I order her to drink. She takes the cap off and sips obediently. Taking that as a good sign I turn and head for my clothes. I grab a hoodie off the floor and walk back. She grabs the hoodie from me and holds out the gatorade shakily. I take it and she stands. Pulling off her pants she’s standing in her underwear. She leans over fishing her phone and a pair of earbuds. She goes to straighten and nearly falls over. I stead her on her feet. And before she’s even fully stable she starts pulling off her top.
I would have been thrilled about this even a few hours ago, but it's dark in here so I can’t really see her body. And the look in her eyes is haunting me. I want her to want to be here, not like this. She pulls the sweatshirt over her head and crawls off balance up the bed. When she gets to the corner between two walls she pushes herself hard into it and puts the earbuds in. Connecting them to her phone she hits the button and drops it into her lap pulling her knees in and her hood over head and the top of her face she circles her arms over her knees.
Since she doesn’t really talk anyways I hadn’t expected her to say anything but I thought there would be more than this, she has completely cut herself off from me. I sit on the edge of the bed closest to the door and watch her for a long time, she seems to be asleep. After a while I lay on my back legs still bent over the bed and touching the floor and fall asleep myself with that look on her face burned into my brain. I need to fix her, I need her back.
Read Part 3 Here
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