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nightmare-dreamt · 2 years ago

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Hi! Please call me Frosch, she/they! Er... I think ask is still open? But if not, please ignore me. Thanks, and stay hydrated, fam!💮

So, um... could I please request a match-up? For such fandoms such as one piece, demon slayer.(and I noticed people usually ask for 3, so haikyuu?). Thanks!

So... a bit about me. I'm Gemini, INFP, and I am an introvert, plus a tad shy. Hmmm... I won't call myself kind, but I guess I'm a bit into "fairness" and whatnot. I try to help people in need but hate being tricked or being lied to, hate cheaters and playboys and etc etc. Meeting such people, my last screws gets loose, and i turn into an angry chihuahua. No shyness anymore, only a female Hulk. XD But anywho! I also adore my family and close ones, even if I don't show it by expressing it by words as often as others do. Usually, I just try to show it by gifting or getting to know their likes and dislikes? My temperament is melancholic one, but usually, I'm the one who cheers up the people around me. So I guess I'm a very adaptable person who can get on good terms with anyone, as long as I try. A bit of an easygoing person but petty at the same time? All in all, one big contradiction. I guess Geminis all like this? At least all Geminis around me are chaos incarnations.

Um. I have a huge sweet tooth, I love manga(yes, I'm also cap obvious XD), video games, comics aaaand novels. A big foodie. Hmmmm... Oh, I also try to write and draw too! But usually, I just give up, not liking how it ended up. XD Hmmm... my style is a mix of everything? Expect I don't wear dresses and skirts. So I'm a tomboy? Hmm... but I do wear some more feminine clothes too... Oh yes, I also hate pink. My favorite colors are black and white. I listen to pretty much everything, but I can't stand country. It's just... too depressing for my ass, thanks. X) Oh, I'm also love watching cartoons, horrors, comedy, and some other genres. Uhhhh... I don't know what else to write about me...

That's it, I think? Thank you, and have a great day! Thanks for the match-ups! Oh, and I hope it's okay if I go anonymously? A bit shy, sorry! If not, please just ignore my request! Again, bye and have a good day! Stay safe!🌻 (Sorry for all the mistakes. English is not my native language! Okay, bye for real now!♡)

Matchup for Frosch!

One Piece: Shanks

Food is something the two of you share and enjoy together. Whenever the two of you are out at a new city or island, the two of you rush off to go eat something, needing some sort of food in your stomachs. He loves taking you to fancy restaurants and seeing the smile on your face when seeing your food, it always makes his heart beat faster.

Shanks was never a man to care for clothing or what people wear, that was until he saw your style quickly falling in love with it. When the two of you go off to shop, he usually has you pick out his outfits, loving everything that you pick out for him.

Demon Slayer: Mitsuri

Gift giving is a strong trait for Mitsuri as well. One day, she found a small box on her doorstep with a little trinket from her significant other and she immediately found something to give back as payment for the generous gift. You guys have gifting wars, always wanting to one up the other.

I can see Mitsuri having a sweet tooth and that doesn't help with yours. The two of you spend days at cafes, eating all of the delicious treats, wasting all of your guys' money on the small items. You guys always come home and get confused, unsure of where both of your guys' money went, but when the notification of the payment being sent to the cafe was found, you two instantly knew the cause of your guy's problem.

Movie dates are adorable and can be spent together during any movie, especially with Mitsuri who will go out and see any movie, all except horror movies. Before meeting you, Mitsuri hated horror movies, always getting scared of them and never getting the concept behind them. Then, you came into her life and now she goes to see the movies no longer feeling afraid or fearful with someone strong by her side.

Haikyuu: Asahi

You both are definitely introverted, having all of the signs of one and that only makes your relationship stronger, knowing that the other experiences the same thing. You guys prefer having indoor dates and creating pillow forts in the living room only to watch all sorts of movies. (Another character who hates horror movies, but still refuses to watch them when your around getting to scared)

Helping people in need is a strong trait within the two of you showing the most when around your guys friends and families. You're always there for each other's events cheering them on, or when the other is in need of some help the other is there ready to be of assistance. You attend all of his games, making sure to be the loudest one there just so he can hear you and be proud of how far he has gotten.

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nathank77 · 6 months ago

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4/25/24

12:37 a.m

I'm freaking out I called poison control. When I was doing the freon both at 4 p.m and like 7:30 p.m the nozzle at the base of the can was loose and freon leaked into the air more than a few times. This is what I get for not paying some guy hundreds to do it.

I got a headache, I still have a headache... I'm trying to pinpoint when I got a headache. It absolutely was not earlier in the day. I feel like it happened around 8 or even 9-10 p.m. when I got stressed about money and my hair clippers...

The most exposure I had to the freon was at that 4 p.m window cause I spent 20-30 minutes adding it. And some was def leaking out for a while..

I'm trying to retrace my steps. When I went out there to do the Coolant. I did it first cause my car had cooled down from running. Then I attached the gauge and read that it was in 30 psi. Then I believe I turned it up to 4 on my ac to see if the compressor kicked on. And when I looked it, it still said 30... then I turned down my ac and I think at that point I let more freon out of the bottle. I think some came out of the sides of the nozzle.

I remember when I did it at 4 p.m. some hit my shirt.. but I def didn't have a headache then and my stomach looks fine.

I remember seeing it went into the red. I didn't put anymore freon into the system at that point. I capped the valve and checked my car and went inside. I think I put more freon in it BEFORE I checked if the compressor was working. When I wrote that blog entry that was as I was walking into the house and I was done with it all. I didn't have a headache I think.

I do believe as I was buzzing my body or in the shower I started getting a headache. Idk. Microsleep really fucked with my memory..

All I know is I'm scared I have freon poisoning. The guy at poison control said I'm outside the window but based on this I had exposure and got a headache within a hour or 2... but I mean he was implying I'd have gotten a headache immediately...and breathing issues...

I'm trying to calm down bc you can't test for freon poisoning. Basically if I go to the ER they'll monitor my heart and breathing and potentially send me on my way if everything is normal. If it's not they may admit me and watch me. But my breathing is normal.

My headache isn't. I still have one and I'm on 400mg of Ibuprofen.... I don't really get headaches much. I mean maybe it's psychosis.. I don't have any other symptoms of freon poisoning. All I know is i had mild exposure today in open air...

So I'm panicking and I want to listen to the guy at poison control but why isn't my headache gone yet?

I don't want to die. I can hear my auditory hallucination going away. I can hear it dying. Yea I got a lot to work on but I want to live. If I could beat this. I'm going to work hard on my ocd and live. I'm going to go out hiking by myself. Sit in the park and listen to the wind in the trees. I don't want to die.

I don't want to go to the er for no reason but I don't want to suddenly have a seizure or something. Idk what to do.

The tactiles aren't this strong usually. I still get them. I mean sometimes I floss and I feel food stuck up in my gumline for hours and I know it's not there. Sometimes my tooth hurts for a hour for no apparent reason. I hate not being able to trust my body.

I know i got exposed to it bc it came from the nozzle loosening and it hit my shirt. Is this freon poisoning? Or is this a tactile that started as a headache? Bc it can play off my anxiety...

Also when did the headache start??? All I can say with certainly is it didn't start until at least 8 p.m.. it may have happened after the shower.... cause I do remember thinking I'll take Ibuprofen if it continues once I bought the Buzzers.

Idk all I know is the headache is persistent and otherwise I have no other symptoms. But it really hurts. And 400mg of Ibuprofen isn't doing anything

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imaginesmai · 4 years ago

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Arvin Russell - The right time

SO YEAH I SAW THE DEVIL ALL THE TIME AND I LOVED IT!! My opinion about it is at the end! In case you haven’t seen it and you still want to read this, you can skip it by not looking at the A/N. Let me know what you think about the film in the comments, please! Or just message me! I’m feeling like writting about him, so please

SEND YOUR REQUESTS.

Plot: Arvin’s father always told him to wait for the right time, and he thought it was the only right way to do things. Now, when you’ve been hurt because of him, he’s ready to take the matters into his own hands.

WARNINGS: TDATT SPOILERS. Mentions of rape. Murder.

Arvin didn’t know if the preacher had heard him or not coming in, because he hadn’t turned around to look at him. If anything, that only made him angrier. He was sure that if he had heard him and looked at him, he wouldn’t have spared him another glance. Because Arvin Russell wasn’t of his interest, not because of the money and the gender. The last thought made him tighten his grip around the gun, willing himself not to shoot him before the right time.

Since Lenora’s death, he had been waiting for the right time. That was what his father told him; to wait for the right time, and then to avenge yourself. He had been doing pretty good with that mantra, or at least most of the times. Arvin had followed the preacher to his house and to his adventures with young women. He had watched as he fucked a young girl from Lenora’s class and then went back to his wife, scoffing when dinner wasn’t ready and urging her to satisfy him when bed time arrived. He had held his gun tight to his chest, knowing the right time would eventually come; and then, he had hated his father more than ever, because listening to him had almost caused another precious death.

“Arvin!” his grandma called from downstair. Quickly, he closed the notebook where he was keeping track of the preacher’s actions. “Boy, Mr. Y/L/N is here!”

Arvin frowned at the mention of your father. You had known each other for your whole life, so he knew your family story; that your mother had left you after promising your father that she would leave her adventurous life when she got pregnant. She left with some young man that was going to travel the world, and your father had locked himself up in a unbreakable shell, forgetting about his eleven’s years old daughter.

Not once he had seen your father outside your house, you being in charge of dropping food and money for him. Not matter how many times Arvin had tried to convince you that you would be better on your own. Even living with him, once your relationship wasn’t just friends anymore. But you had just shook your head softly and told him that you couldn’t leave him, not yet.

So it was strange that it was your father and not you who was knocking on his door. He had agreed to meet you that morning to show you finally what he was on lately, since he couldn’t hide anything; but you hadn’t come, with the excuse of visiting Lenora’s grave once more. You were her best friend, so after offering to go with you, he agreed on meeting you at night.

Briefly, he looked to the box where you two were saving a bit of your earnings for your life together. He doubted your father knew about it, so he got up and walked down the stairs.

“Here he is” Emma smiled at him. “Well, I’m leavin’ you to it. I’m in the kitchen”

“Arvin” your father called his name, voice croaked from not using it. “God, you’re a man now”

Arvin gave your father a small smile. The man, once handsome, broad and tall, was now hunched shadow. He had a several days long beard, skinny arms and wide clothes. Mr Y/L/N was hiding his hands behind his body, only making him look worse. Still, Arvin extended one hand and offered him a shake, greeting him.

“I’m – uh, sorry, you didn’t have to come down. But Emma started calling you before I could explain” he gave him an awkward chuckle.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Y/L/N. Is there… anything I can help with?”

“Is Y/N here?”

The question caught Arvin off guard, because usually you spent days in Arvin’s house and your father didn’t notice as long as there was food on the fridge. Lately, the man had been doing an effort of getting better, and some nights you had told Arvin how he had attempted to cook for you. From there to wondering where you were there was a huge step, and for a second Arvin tried to sniffle for any track of alcohol. There was none.

“Usually, I wouldn’t really care but, you know – getting better and all” he tried to explain himself. “She spends most of the time here, so I thought that maybe she’s around? I haven’t seen her since yesterday’s afternoon”

The last part caught Arvin attention. He talked with you last time before starting yesterday’s shift, which was before noon. And you told him you were going to spend the rest of the day with your father, and that the next morning you intended to pay Lenora a visit. He hadn’t worried about it, because he had been busy and trusted you to take care of yourself. But if you hadn’t slept on your house, then there was something to worry about.

“She… Y/N told me she was goin’ to spend the mornin’ in the graveyard” Arvin mumbled.

“Oh, she went yesterday after you left her home” he explained, making Arvin’s blood run cold. “I had things to do so she told me she’d go and then pay you a visit”

Your father said something else, but Arvin wasn’t listening anymore. There was another person he had missed last night; the preacher, who usually went home somewhere near eight, didn’t appear until very much later. He knew because he had been waiting outside his house, watching his wife sitting in front of a cold dinner with tears on her eyes. He had thought nothing of it at first, but now, he choked on his breath knowing what could have happened.

Arvin’s body collided with your father when he walked past him and ran out of the house, hearing the man calling out for him. His grandma also looked through the kitchen window, screaming his name before Arvin disappeared into the field that went to the town’s graveyard.

Thinking about it, Arvin knew it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Knockemstiff was full of sinners, bad people and wicked intentions. Even if you didn’t go to highschool no more and worked to provide to your father, Arvin had had to deal with a few men who thought you were available, whether you wanted or not. There were a lot of people who could have hurt you, a lot of reasons why you didn’t go back home last night, and none of them made sense in his head.

You knew how to defend yourself, you had a car that could help you to escape any delicate situation, and you never got lost. Not once you had wandered off without telling anyone, not even your father. Even if he wasn’t listening or paying attention, you always told him where you were going.

Thoughts ran past his mind at the same time Arvin ran past his neighbours and cars, trying not to collide with anyone but finding it difficult, since he couldn’t see much past his oncoming tears. Loosing Leonora had been one thing. His sister, his family and the person he had fought nail and tooth to protect for so many years. He had been waiting for the right moment to avenge her, to put a bullet in between the preacher’s eyes, or maybe a few. One for every second she had suffered hanging from that rope.

And he swore, that if he had had anything to do with your disappearance, there wouldn’t be an inch of his body untouched by the bullets.

He wasn’t as late as he could have been, he guessed. The police was warned, a group of villagers offered to help, and Arvin himself kept running in circles around the graveyard for the whole day. Even Grandma, who wasn’t in the best shape, had helped into the search. And she had been the one who had found you, maybe because she had just this woman-ly instinct or because God had wanted it to be a woman who found your naked, bruised body and not some sinful man.

Arvin had arrived then – and sure, you were alive, recovering in his room because he didn’t want to leave your side ever again, barely saying a word and healing from the bruised kidney. But you weren’t fine, you weren’t smiling at Arvin and cradling his head when he lost his track. It had been obvious what had happened that day, why it had taken Arvin a few hours to find each piece of your clothes and where the bruises around your thighs came.

Your father had dissapeared again, locking himself in his room and forgetting about his daughter once more. But Arvin had been there every second for the past week, getting you to eat what you could and holding you tight through the nightmares.

The bench he was sitting on creaked under his fingers when Arvin thought about your sobs, how your tried to hide beside him when last week you complained about Virginia heat. The preacher looked back to Arvin, who wasn’t visible because of the cap.

“Excuse me, preacher” Arvin’s voice didn’t waver. “You got time for a sinner?”

Upon hearing Arvin’s voice, and knowing it wasn’t anyone from his interest – a girl – he turned around and motioned for him to keep going. It wasn’t any more about Lenora´s death, because Arvin would have had enough with killing him. Maybe making him suffer for a bit, making him feel the desperation of knowing death was the only answer. Now, however, Arvin wanted to cut off every inch of skin that had touched yours.

“Go ahead” preacher Teagardin told him, going back to his lecture.

Arvin took his time, talking about everything that the preacher had done of thought about since he put a foot in Knockemstiff. He talked about how the preacher forced his wife to please him late at night, how he ordered her around as if she was just a servant. He talked about how he liked young girls, those who were innocent enough that didn’t have to be forced, just manipulated. About the pregnancy, and how he cowered away once his decisions had repercussions.

He watched from behind his cap how the preacher left the book on the bench, his eyes widening in size as he realised the sins Arvin was talking about were his. He turned around finally, locking eyes with Arvin, but not recognizing him. Why would he, though, since everything he looked at were Arvin’s precious girls. First his sister, and now his girl. As he continued, he shifted the gun on his lap, wanting to end his story before blowing his brains out.

“And there is this other girl. She ain’t like the rest, cause she doesn’ fall for the lies. So I decided to approach her when she was alon’, kicked her head open and brought her to the back of my car. Forcer her and left her in the woods” Arvin’s finished. “Didn’ care if she was a ‘right or not. Just fucked her good and left her to die”

“Who are you, boy?” the preacher chuckled awkwardly, getting up. “Why don’t you take off your cap?”

“She was found, thankfully. Naked, bruised, unconscious. She doesn’t talk no more, just cries” Arvin’s voice was full of venom, finally taking off his cap. “But I don’ care, cause I ain’t responsible for that neither”

The preacher went to jump forward, maybe hoping to kill Arvin, scare him away or knock him unconscious. If it came to Arvin’s word against his, probably just a few people would believe Arvin; but the truth would come out eventually, and both of them knew it. No one would ever know what the preacher would have done then, because true to his word, Arvin Russell didn’t leave an inch of the preacher’s skin untouched from the bullets.

Later that night, Arvin walked into his dark room, knowing it would be his last night in Knockemstiff. He still didn’t have a plan, didn’t have a way to leave without being chased or hurting his family. For that night, he was just a scared boy whose responsibilities would have to wait.

He climbed into the room through the window, not making any noise and avoiding his grandma and grand uncle. If they didn’t know he was there that night, they wouldn’t have anything against the police; they would be safe. They would be just fine with the money he was leaving behind, probably a bit tight but enough to have a good life. The next problem, however, was harder. He let you nest against him when he crawled into bed, let you hide your face against his neck and not talk for another night of what happened that day. Not that there was much to talk, because it wouldn’t happen again.

Not knowing if you heard him or not, Arvin told you what he had done. Tears ran down his cheeks when he told you how he couldn’t stop pulling the trigger on him, how he would do it again and again, and how he felt guilty about not doing it sooner. The same as your father, he expected you not to hear a word of what he had said. But you surprised him when your shaky, thin hand made its way to his cheek and made him look at you.

“You can’t say anything, Arv” your whispered, the pale cheeks a contrast with your hard voice. “We need to run away”

“W-we?” Arvin frowned, confused. “You can’t – darlin’, I-I can’t… you and, uh, we –“

“You’re not leaving without me, Arvin Russell”

For the first time in a week, you pressed your lips against him. He had almost forgotten how it felt to have something good, not just rage and pain. Arvin let more tears fall as he slowly cradled the back of your head, not wanting to move in case it would end. It didn’t last longer, anyway; soon, you were tearing away. But rather than just cuddling his side, you laid your head against his shoulder and hug his middle.

He had thousands of thoughts that he wanted to say. That he was sorry, for not telling you sooner what he was doing and for not taking better care of you. That he should have taken care of the preacher on the begging, and not trusting on the advice of someone who killed himself in front of their kid. But he didn’t say anything, just hug you close, knowing there was no way he would leave the town without you.

Because together, everything felt like the right time.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@smilexcaptainx

@aikaterrina

@zalladane

@gypsystuf (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan

@galaxystern08

@justifymyfeelings

A/N (my opinion on tdatt):

So, WOW. I saw it last night because I don’t have Netflix, so I had to meet a friend to watch it. And it was - wow. The way Tom Holland and Robert Pattinson go out of their way to work their accents and roles is amazing. Even though I hate the preacher’s character (who doesn’t), I loved how Robert works with him and makes him his. He’s always an amazing actor, but this time he outdid himself!

And Tom... Well, he got me with the first word he said. That part when he’s with Lenora and gets beaten up... and then, the way he avengers her from the bullies is amazing. I also loved watching how he had a relationship with a fem character that wasn’t romantical. He showed every emotion, thought and action with just his face, and I love him for it.

I don’t think it’s a film that should be seen just becuase he’s in it. It’s amazing, breath-taking and beautiful. I love this kind of films, but if you don’t is understable. It’s quite violent and can tigger anybody. Still, I’ll give it 8/10 - becuase I would have loved to see more of other characters! Message me if you want to talk about it

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years ago

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Letter 10: 🐆 An Arm and a Leg 🐆

A letter arrives in the mail. Well... you assume it was meant to be a letter). Had it not come in an envelope (with several dubious stains) addressed to you, you might have mistaken it for scrap. It looks like someone tore out a sheet of notebook paper (there are Magic History notes scribbled all over it) and wrote in a different ink color in the unused portions: the margins.

A bracelet comes with the letter, but rather than beads, there’s a bunch of polished and sanded off bottle caps strung on a thread. They rattle together when you slide it onto your wrist to test out the size—and would you look at that. There’s a little knotted notch for you to adjust the width of the bracelet to the perfect size doe you.

***Spoilers for chapters 2, 3, 4, and 5!***

Hey, Prefect!

How’s it going? Having a hard time with stuff? Got anything you need done? Thinkin’ about taking someone out without getting your hands dirty? Well, look no further, cuz I’m the hyena for the job—any job! I’ll literally do any job for you as long as I’m paid well. You know Madol’s what makes the the world go round!

... Yeah, this letter’s exactly what it looks like: an advertisement of my services. Look, money’s kinda tight this week and I’m trying to survive to NRC’s founding day celebration so I can feast on whatever fancy catering the headmaster’s got planned, alright? You know where to find me if you need a helping hand.

Just being Leona-san’s errand boy isn’t enough to make ends meet, you know? I’ve got bills to pay and food to eat, and that costs Madol. Plus... there’s all those brats back home that I’m thinkin’ about. I gotta save whatever scraps I can up for them, too.

Maybe there wouldn’t even be a me to look after those kids if it weren’t for you and those first years. I seriously thought I was gonna get turned to sand and crumble when Leona-san unleased King’s Roar... I dunno how, but you guys actually managed to tame that rampaging beast. Good thing you didn’t charge for that, cuz I don’t think I could ever repay you in enough Madol for saving my tail!!

But hey, don’t come to me acting like I owe you one for rescuing me. I helped swipe Azul-kun’s key and contracts! If you think about it, I kinda gave you a freebie too, since I pitched in to build the VDC stage for you guys to perform on!! “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” That’s one of the creeds we live by in Savanaclaw. I’ve paid off my debt to you, so now we’re even!

I’m glad you managed to stop Leona-san before it was too late. I mean, if he went berserk and stayed like that, a lot of people would get hurt—and more importantly, I’d lose an important gig! Without Leona-san around... I’d be out of a major job. He might work me like a dog, but I can’t argue about the perks. Having “Prince’s Errand Boy” in my résumé oughta open up some sweet opportunities for me in the future, don’t ‘cha think?

... I’m just kidding~

As much crap as we give each other, I gotta admit. Leona-san’s kinda growing on me. Sure, he’s rude and lazy and demanding and whatever... but I dunno. There’s something about him that you just can’t help but admire. It makes you wanna smile and follow his lead.

I just know... He’s got a vision of the future, Prefect. A future where beastmen from all walks of life can live in the same savanna on equal grounds. Leona-san knows what he wants. It’s the same wish as me, really. A “just” world where everyone gets the same chances. Young or old, rich or poor, lion or hyena....

That’s why... Even at the cost of my own morals, or an arm and a leg, I’ll stand by Leona-san’s side. I trust in his vision—in our vision. And I’ll do whatever I can to help make that a reality. The world’s an unfair place, so why should we play by its rules? They’re written in the world’s favor, anyway. We’ve gotta rebel against them if we’re ever gonna make any progress~

I told ya before, didn’t I? “Anyone can be king at this school”, even a lowly hyena like me. Night Raven College is exactly the opportunity I needed to cut loose and let my laugh go. I want everyone to experience this rush of freedom, this feeling of flying free. That’s why Leona-san leads, and why I follow in his footsteps.

Anyway, remember to hit me up if you ever need anything—as long as you’re also willing to open your wallet in return. I think I’ve spent enough time writing this letter. I gotta go pick up Leona-san’s lunch, then I gotta help Sam-san restock at the Mystery Shop, and after that I have...

Oh, yeah! About lunch... Tell Grim-kun that I said thanks a lot for the menchi-katsu sandwich~ If he’s still salty about it, I can trade him a dandelion salad next time. It’s cheap, delicious, nutritious, and filling! I promise!

See ya around,

🐆 Ruggie Bucchi 🐆

#Ruggie Bucchi #twst anni #twisted wonderland anni #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst anniversary #twisted wonderland anniversary #spoilers #magic mystery letters

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skzsauce01 · 4 years ago

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love you to limx

Anniversary Request Special

Description: Jisung’s secret crush on his childhood friend, you, might not be so secret after all, especially when your tutee starts laying moves on you right in front of his iced americano.

Warning: none!

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung

“Y/N?” Jisung calls out as soon as you walk past the library doors.

You smile and wave to him while flashing your ID card for the person at the front desk. He waves you over so you go to him.

“Jisung? What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d make some extra money this semester, so I signed up to tutor underclassmen during this hour.”

You let out a gasp. “Same!”

“What are the odds?” he chuckles, feigning surprise. It isn’t like he bribed Chan, the head of the program, to tell him what time slot you signed up for, nor is it like he fought Hyunjin tooth and nail for this time either. The only reason why you and him are at the same place on a Wednesday afternoon is pure coincidence. Really.

You pull out the seat in front of his and take a seat. “I wonder who’s going to show up,” you ponder mindlessly.

“Someone who needs help with not math, I hope,” he mutters in reply.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you laugh. “There’s a reason why they ask you whether you’re in liberal arts or STEM on the application.”

“Ahh, right,” he blushes and distracts himself with his backpack. After a few seconds of digging, he realizes a new problem.

“Oh, shoot,” he mutters.

“What’s up?”

“I left my pencil case at my apartment!” he panics with wide eyes.

“Honestly, Jisung. You’re supposed to set an example for the underclassmen!” you tch, harshly pushing your pouch between you two to share.

“Thanks, Y/N~” he sings, choosing a pen. This one is bunny capped, how cute.

At that moment, a new voice interrupts,“Excuse me, is this the SKZ tutoring club?”

You smile at him and shift the organization’s logo for better visibility. “Yes! I’m L/N Y/N. And you are?”

Jisung’s jaw drops when he recognizes the boy.

“Yang Jeongin,” he replies, “and I desperately need help with calculus.”

He takes a seat besides you while smirking at the other male. Jisung knows this kid. He knows him alright; he’s best friends with his housemate and scheming math wiz, Kim Seungmin. The fact that he is here now sending snide looks at him cannot be good.

“Don’t worry; limits can be tricky,” you reassure him, unaware of the tension between the two. “You’ll get a hang of it in no time though.”

“Thanks,” breathes Jeongin innocently. “I’m counting on you, noona.”

“‘Noona?’” you giggle.

Jisung grits his teeth.

The hour goes by rather uneventfully other than the few times Jisung nearly screamed when Jeongin gets something he was “struggling” with before and your whole face lights up as you compliment him. A student came over with a question for Jisung too, but that only took twenty minutes of his hour. Besides that, he just sat with his head on the table, getting lost in your focused eyes and waiting for Jeongin to leave-- he means, for time to pass by.

Unlike the boy who came for Jisung, Jeongin’s session with you lasts the entire hour. Finally, when the clock strikes five, you two begin packing up your things.

“Thank you so much! I think I finally get it now!” Jeongin bows slightly.

“You’re doing great! Just have a little more confidence in your work, and if you ever get stuck again, SKZ tutoring is here to help.”

“I’ll be sure to come back during this time then. You were so clear and easy to understand.”

Yada yada yada. Save it and leave, Jisung wills while glaring daggers at his junior.

Jeongin doesn’t seem to notice or care as he leisurely zips up his backpack. Even worse, he insists on walking you to the door before you two finally wave goodbye.

“Finally,” Jisung mumbles when the boy at last walks away.

“What was that?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he hums. “Anyway, want to get ice cream to celebrate our first day at work?”

“With what money?” you joke.

Jisung scoffs. “Come on, I’ll buy if it’s such a big deal.”

“No. That’ll make me feel bad,” you pout.

“It’s fine. Think of it as thanks for lending me a pen,” he suggests, walking towards the shop. “Mint chip?”

“How’d you know?” you chuckle, clutching on to his arm to optimize your puppy-look angle. He is buying after all.

Jisung nearly goes into cardiac arrest the second he feels your fingers around his sleeves. It takes him a moment before he’s able to reply, “You’ve liked that toothpaste ice cream since you were five.”

“Hey! It’s not toothpaste flavored!”

He rolls his eyes and looks at you. You’re smiling. He loves it when you do that, especially when it crinkles the corner of your eyes. You’re doing that now, but not when you were with Jeongin, he recalls to console himself. That’s right; this smile is exclusive to him, your childhood bestie, only.

Before long, you two are seated on some questionable bench behind the statue of your school’s legendary football coach with frozen treats in hand.

“--and now I have to wait for her to finish that before I can even get started on the powerpoint.”

Jisung lets out a sympathetic hum before eyeing your ice cream. “Ah,” he says, pointing to his mouth.

You groan. “Why do you insult my ice cream then ask for some every time? Just get mint chip yourself if you like it so bad.”

“Hey, I paid,” he reminds you.

“Yeah, yeah.” You scoop some ice cream with your spoon and place it in front of his lips, and he opens obediently before clamping his lips over it to get all the ice cream from the dip of the spoon.

He then watches as you thoughtlessly scoop more of the treat and place it into your own mouth while continuing your story. Jisung turns away because of a creeping blush when you complete the indirect kiss. So what if he’s been tricking you into doing this since forever? He’ll still never get used to it; not unless he gets to try the real thing, at least.

After ice cream, you decide to head home to get in some studying. Jisung heads towards his own complex with feather-like steps. That is, until he opens his front door and sees what-- or rather, who-- is inside.

“Yang Jeongin?”

“Oh, hey, Hyung!” he chirps, not looking up from his game with Jisung’s housemates.

“What are you doing here?” Jisung demands.

“Relax,” sighs Seungmin. “We invited him cause we needed another player and you were too busy with your date.”

“S-she-- I-- It was not a date!”

“Oh really?” Hyunjin challenges.

“Oh really?” Jeongin piques hopefully.

For some reason, Jeongin irks him more despite Hyunjin being the one trying to purposely annoy him.

“Well, I-- uh--”

“You’re blushing,” Seungmin says without even looking up.

Jisung lets out a strangled noise and slams his room’s door behind him.

For the next few weeks, Jeongin shows up at tutoring a handful of times, each time annoying Jisung more than the last. His favourite days though are not only Jeongin free but tutee free all together because one, he gets paid for just sitting there and two, you.

Today, to his fortune, is one of those days. You lay with your head rested on an arm that’s stretched out in front of you on the table, invading Jisung’s area. He doesn’t mind though, mindlessly playing with your fingers and sipping iced americano.

“I seriously need a tutor myself,” you lament aloud. “That chem midterm is going to kill me on Tuesday.”

“Oh, come on. You still pass every time you say that.”

“But still,” you gasp dramatically.

Jisung rolls his eyes with a smile. “Well, if all else fails, you can still fall back on your education minor and become a teacher. You’re pretty good at that from what I see.”

“You really think so?” you squeak.

He nods.

“That’s only because all my students are so talented themselves. I mean, the only ones who come to tutoring are self motivated kids. Especially Jeongin.”

There his name is again. Jisung doesn’t respond and instead breaks the lead of his pencil against the paper. The motion shakes his hand which accidentally tips his coffee forward, covering the front of your t-shirt in brown.

“D-do you really like him that much?” Jisung stutters.

“Is that important right now?” you exclaim, quickly repositioning the beverage.

Your voice snaps Jisung back into reality, and he apologizes and digs in his backpack for tissues. Minutes later, the mess on the table is thankfully cleaned up before anything leaked to the ground. This means there is only one problem left: your clothes.

“I’m sorry…” Jisung apologizes for the hundredth time.

“It’s fine,” you sigh. “I’ll just see how much I can clean off in the restroom and sit here for another” --you check your phone-- “twenty minutes. It’s pretty quiet today anyway, so it should be fine.”

“But you have to walk home for another fifteen minute after. Wouldn’t it be uncomfortable?”

“Well I don’t have another shirt, so…” You bring your hands up and shrug your shoulders.

“Here,” Jisung offers, taking off his hoodie. “Just put this on. It should be better than a wet sticky shirt.”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes.

“It’s clean! Jeez!”

“I’m just teasing,” you joke, gratefully taking his sweater and promising to be quick in the restroom.

When you returned, Jisung was not ready for what he saw. Sure, he isn’t of large stature himself, but he likes his clothes loose, especially his hoodies, so with it on you, you exuberate hug-ability potential.

“Thanks again for the clothes,” you say as you sit down. You bat your sweater paw around a few times before grabbing your pen, trying to find your hand from under there.

Jisung coughs something incoherent while draining the rest of his beverage.

You two sit quietly as you work on your own things while waiting for students to show up. Jisung can’t stop peeking over his books at you though. That is until he shows up again, right as the two of you are about to pack up.

“Noona!”

“Jeongin!” you return, recognizing the voice.

He slides into the seat besides you and Jisung reopens his book to duck his head behind.

“You look so cute in that sweater!” he compliments.

Jisung bites his thumb. He wanted to say that!

“I’m older than you, you rascal,” you scold though obviously pleased.

“Age doesn’t have anything to do with the truth,” he shrugs.

You roll your eyes and lightly swat his shoulder.

“So, did you have a quick question?”

“Actually, I just came here to show you this!” The boy whips out some papers from his bag and hands it to you.

At first, you are silent. Jisung comes out from behind his wall to see what has gotten you so quiet. Then you stammer out, “O-oh my. Oh my! Jeongin, you did it! You got an A on your midterm!”

Disregarding your surroundings, you throw your arms over the boy.

“It’s all thanks to you,” he strangles out from under your embrace.

And then Jisung sees it. He sees it, the smile on your face as you pull away. The smile that crinkles your eyes. Before he can say anything though, Jeongin beats him to it.

“I also came here to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Well I know we have kind of a teacher-student relationship…”

You nod, prompting him to go on.

“But even so, you’re so patient and caring and smart that I can’t help but ask. Will you go out with me?”

“NO!”

The entire library turns towards Jisung after he slammed down his book in exclamation. He feels heat rising to his face as he looks around and sees all the eyes on him. He slides his foot half a step back, papers crinkling under the grip of his fingers, before he dashes out of the building without another word.

“Jisung!” he hears you call after him.

He runs and runs until he can’t anymore without even seeing where he is going. Once he finally stops to catch his breath, he realizes he is in front of the football coach statue. He has many memories with you here at this place; not only is it your favourite place to hang out, it’s also where you both opened your college acceptance letters at the same time, promised to be best friends forever as kids, and gazed at the stars whenever someone was feeling down. It’s also where he first realized he is in love with you.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Jisung looks up and you toss his backpack at him.

“I’m sorry for making a scene back there,” he mumbles.

You either don’t hear him or don’t care, for you sit down at the bench and wave him over.

He defies your wishes and stands in front of you, head down and looking dejected.

“Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

“Why would I be with someone else when my best friend is upset?”

Best friend. Is that all he’ll ever be to you?

“Well I’m okay, so just go.”

“No, you’re clearly not,” you object, taking his hand and pulling him next to you. “So tell me, what’s wrong? Do you not like Jeongin?”

It’s not like he dislikes Jeongin. The younger male is cute and funny, which is all the more reason Jisung hates him.

“No…” he admits quietly.

“Then why are you so upset?”

Jisung can feel his nails through his jeans as you press his head against your chest comfortingly. He’s about to explode; how can you play with his heart like this?

“Fine, you want to know why? It’s because I like you, that’s why! I like you and I don’t like it when other guys take you away especially when they’re tall and handsome and--”

You shut him up by pressing your lips against his cheeks. He turns to you with eyes as wide as discs.

“I didn’t accept his confession,” you tell him. “You wanna know why?”

“B-because of my outburst?” he mumbles incoherently.

“No, because I like you too, Jisung. And only you.”

“Y-you’re lying. Is this a prank? Are there cameras--”

“I’m not lying,” you promise, holding his arms down when they start flailing around in excitement.

“Well then, I think you missed my lips earlier,” he pouts.

“Oh, you cheeky little--”

He cuts you off this time by swooping in and holding you against him.

“Finally!”

The two of you break apart when you hear the voice.

“Jeongin?” you call, recognizing it.

A sheepish boy steps out from behind a tree followed by a few of his friends.

“Seungmin? Hyunjin?” Jisung gasps. “What is this?”

The trio look at each other before Seungmin speaks up. “We got tired of you two dancing around each other and not expressing your feelings, so we decided to expedite some things.”

“You mean--” Jisung points at Jeongin.

“Yep. I was all a ploy to get you to break,” he admits.

“For three months?” you exclaim.

“I think you mean, ‘thank you,’” Hyunjin interjects.

You turn towards Jisung. “I have a feeling we’ll be third, fourth, and fifth wheeled a lot.”

“Then let’s make them go away on their own accord,” Jisung smirks. He leans down and locks your lips into another kiss while dramatically tangling your limbs together.

“Okay, ew, bye.” The three yelp and scramble to get away from the scene, making Jisung snicker.

“Shush,” you scold, tugging on his collar with your sweater paws.

Oh, Jisung will shush alright, and he’ll make sure you do too for a good long while.

~ ad.gold

A/N: Thanks for your (actual) request! Hopefully this brings you back to campus during this shut down. #Pappy Waldorf

#han #han jisung #stray kids #skz #childhood friends #college au #skz fic #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #jisung fluff #han fluff #stra ykids imagine #han imagine #jisung fic #fem reader #20200815

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years ago

Text

Monday 6 August 1838

7 25

some minutes with A- till 8 – fine morning but brouillard low on mountains again – F69 ½° at 9 had Charles and Pierre – then chasseurs guides say that the prince de la Moscawa has engaged Cassos the Gèdre Vignemale guide to go to the top of that mountain on Thursday (the prince to sleep at Gavarnie on Wednesday night) be the weather fine or not – my 2 guides have hope that the weather will improve – at last fixed to go this afternoon – to leave here at 3 pm for the cabane – all 3 mounted and take Charles’ brother-in-law to bring back the horses and bring A- and then to meet us at Bouchero at 4pm on Wednesday – Breakfast at 9 ¼ to 11 A- read aloud the paper – strawberries, raspberries, and figs the 2 latter 1st time at breakfast and figs the 1st time of tasting them here – A- wrote copy of letter to Mr. SW. and I wrote on the 1st half of p. 1 of the sheet she is to write on, as follows –

‘Monday 6 August 1838. Pay to Mr. Samuel Washington a order two hundred pounds A. Lister

to the manager of the Yorkshire District Bank at Halifax

St. Sauveur. Hautes Pyrénées. France. Monday 6 August 1838.

Sir,

I send you as above, an order on the Yorkshire District Bank for two hundred pounds – you were right to pay William Mallinson whatever balance might be due to him, as I told him his bill should be paid out of the rent – Do what you think best about paying the small bills due to Messrs. Barber, Firth, and Keighley – as Mr. Greenwoods’ bill for papering at Northgate was not sent in when I left home, I do not know what is due to him on this account; but as he has chosen to begin paying himself out of his rent, I shall determine, on my return home, whether to let him go on doing so, or not – I am tired of laying out money on the Stump-cross Inn – but Mr. Harper may have a shade – I will have nothing to do with the new brewing pan –I was not prepared for being called upon to raise the brew house, which I therefore beg to decline for the present, whatever I may do hereafter – you had best see what the town will do for William Green – when he has done his own money, [?] him have half a crown a week till my return – I am, sir, etc. etc. A. Lister’

then wrote as under to ‘Mr. Mackean, Yorkshire District Bank, Halifax, Yorkshire, Angleterre’

‘St. Sauveur. Hautes Pyrénées. France. Monday 6 August 1838. Sir – I received your letter of the 7th ultimo on the 16th ultimo – you would receive on the 10th ultimo one hundred and sixty pounds on my account – I shall be at home, and will settle my account before Christmas – In the meantime, I shall be obliged to you to honour Mr. S. Washington’s drafts on my account to the amount of two hundred pounds – I am, sir, etc. etc. A. Lister’ �� leave these two letters with A- to go by tonights’ post – had just written them, and so far of today besides listening to A-‘s letters (she is writing to her sister) till now 1 5 pm – did up my things – take my tartan cloak my Charles cape and jacket – and in my travelling bag a night chemise and one day ditto 1 pair large grey woollen stockings and 100fr. tied up and put in one of the stockings and 2 pair gloves and 1 pocket handkerchief and tooth brush, soap, comb, needle and thread, and stiletto all on one parcel tied up in a sheet of large whitey brown paper and then in a towel – and also in my bag 1 pair shoes and gaiters – nothing else but what I have on – my merinos gown and 2 white petticoats etc. pair of new strong St. Sauveur shoes, cotton socks and spun silk black stockings legs – a night cap in my pocket and pair of socks and pocket handkerchief and one silk handkerchief in my breast and ½ silk ditto and a sheet of paper in my hat – just written so far at 2 55 when the horses came – off at 3 35 – Charles and Pierre and I all mounted – at the Pont de Sia at 4 ¼ - at the pont de [Douroncate] in 20 minutes more at 4 35 – had passed the bridge and was out of Gèdre at 5 20 – sent the guides on before and alighted for a minute at 5 55 in the chaos and at the Inn at Gavarnie at 6 ½ I did not alight but waited ¼ hour at the door while Charles borrowed 2 pair crampons at 1/. per day each and 2 bâtons ferrés at 1/. each per day, the wife of Cazos [Cassos] having unexpectedly told Charles in passing thro’ Gèdre to provide us with these articles – How is this? Cazos declared on the Piméné and since we had neither glacier nor snow to pass – Charles had luckily bought a light baton ferré for me thinking it might help me and A- had persisted in my having my crampons (these I got for Mt. Perdu in 1830) with me, I nothing loth – off from Gavarnie at 6 ¾ - toujours brouillard, but otherwise fine – at the cabane de Saoussats Dabattes at 8 5 – Cazos and Charles’ brother-in-law had arrived at the cabane just before us, having come direct from Gèdre – we had just got a glimpse of them on the other side the gave as we rode along – our provisions that we had brought were [mine] a lbs. roll put with my little bundle in the sack de nuit bought in Paris for our night things – 2 biscuits in the breast of my dress, 2 hardboiled eggs in Charles’ waistcoat pocket, and my small Swiss Chamouni [Chamonix] guide full of brandy slung over Charles’ shoulder – the guides’ provisions lbs. bread (white like mine) ./70 a leather bottle of white wine ./70 for the bergers to drink of as Charles said and lb, fromàge ./40 and this I had added a bottle 3/. of the best eau-de-vie (the same as that I had for myself) our pharmacien had in his shop – I had in my little bundle 1 chemise and 1 night ditto and 1 pocket handkerchief, and 2 pair gloves, and 1 pair large grey woollen stockings in the foot of one of which a small parcel containing 100/. in five franc pieces, besides which I had about 50/. in my pocket – and I had also 1 pair lightish shoes and gaiters in the sac de nuit which was done up with my Charles jacket in my Charles cape and strapped on my horse behind me – my Maclean tartan cloak tied up and hung on my saddle crutch, or on my back, or carried for and with me everywhere – I was dressed as I have been ever since my arrival here – for riding – and as I was when I ascended the Mt. Perdu – flannel waistcoat and drawers and light small merinos loose sleeves (as for the last 20 years) chemise, stays, short cambric muslin under petticoat – ditto ditto upper ditto over which striped jaconot waist with high collar and long sleeves – broad hammed 3 frilled muslin ficher – and over this double muslin handkerchief and double dark silk ditto and then my black merinos dress lightly ouattée [ouatée] and doublée de persienne, and besides, loose white cambric muslin sleeves sewed into the sleeves of the dress for cleanliness – as usual – and a double lined with persienne pelerine to the dress, and crossed over my chest a light black china crape shawl – I had had (as on going to Mt. P-) tape loops put round the bottom of my dress and string at the top, and just before setting off, had my dress tied up all round me to just about or above the knee – I wore white cotton socks and black spun silk legs with tape straps, and strong leather ¼ boot shoes with nails in (made here for the purpose) and black satin gaiters – I had my white cotton night cap in my pocket and my claps-knive of London 1826 – I had in my breast pockets a pair of cotton socks, a whole black twilled silk handkerchief, and ½ a light coloured foulard (the one I went to the top of Ben nevis in 1828) and Charpentiers’ map of the Pyrenees, and my little note rough book containing my passport – yet I was lighter equipped and my heart was light but for the thought that I had left poor A- dull and perhaps anxious about me for my own and what I was going to attempt – she thought perhaps that I had not been free from biliousness and vertiges for many days, and perhaps she fidgeted about me – but Charles’ brother-in-law is to be back with the horses and see her tomorrow evening and bring her to meet me at Bouchero on Wednesday – the vale d’Ossōnne a fine savage valley – but latterly too dark for me to know much or see much of what I was passing – we had scarcely entered the cabane before the fire was made and pâte set on – it might be about an hour before all huddled in round the pâte-pan – ten of us 5 bergers and our 5 selves including Cazos and Charles’ brother-in-law – I declined assisting at the pâte but ate 1/3 of my roll and drunk a little cold new milk and then lay down about ½ hour before the rest – I lay in my tartan cloak and wrapped in my cape upon a couple of the bergers’ capes and my Charles jacket stuffed between me and the big granite-stone forming the far end of the cabane – my sack de nuit

SH:7/ML/E/21/0161

was my pillow aided by one of the bergers goat-skins bags in which they keep their cloche and provision of bread and meal (bled du turquie meal for pâte) – not comfortable enough to cheat one into sleep – it might be about 10 when all were lain down in 2 rows – head to foot – so crowded no room to stir – cabane hardly 5 yards by 2 – awoke at 11 50 – lighted candle and looked at my watch – I should have been glad to be off – but Cazos said il faisait trop nuit

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fleckcmscott · 4 years ago

Text

Fun and Only

Summary: During a night out, Y/N and Arthur bump into someone from Arthur’s past. Y/N tries to decipher him.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 4,088

A/N: This was a request from the sweet, kind @imdeaddear2! I hope you like it! Thank you for making the request, because I never would have written this scenario without it. 😀 Special thanks to @arthurflecc for the beautiful intro pic! Also, thanks to @hhandley80 for reviewing the exchange in the middle section!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

"Y/N, it's little league season. Know what that means?"

Needing to finish the paragraph she was reading, Y/N raised a finger. The dense case on her desk was a tough assignment; she'd been toiling at it most of the morning. She liked her new position. Truly. But the pace at which she prepared files was slower than she would have preferred. The particulars of labor laws were, well...laborious. Reviewing evidence types she wasn't familiar with took time. It made her impatient. Anxious to soak up all the information she could get her hands on.

But, she supposed, no longer being plagued by guilt for indirectly supporting the Waynes was worth the learning curve.

Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her ankles, swinging her foot back and forth as she regarded Terry. While he was incredibly friendly, chatting with everyone and anyone, they remained acquaintances. Periodically, she conferred with him over a motion or sought to get his opinion about the upcoming mayoral election. ("I've seen Wayne's legal bullshit. He's not getting my vote.") Those discussions didn't go far. Usually, he tried to bond over parental matters - she and Arthur didn't even have a plant.

She could tell this was going to be another attempt. "You're doing a fundraiser and I should buy chocolate bars?" she asked.

"Even better." Digging into his too-tight pants pocket, he retrieved a checkbook-sized pamphlet. "The Gotham Squires are selling these to charter a bus for the All-Stars tournament. They're the number two team in the state!" He shoved a photo of his kid at her.

She murmured a polite, "He's all grown-up." He spoke of the team's new uniforms and his nine-year-old's batting average. Half-listening, she flipped through the booklet. It was a coupon collection, mostly two-for-one sales at various restaurants and vouchers for discounted movie tickets, good on weekdays only. They were quite pricey at fifteen dollars apiece. But she was inclined to buy one. The savings might help Arthur practice letting go of his wallet. Allow him to stop worrying about money and indulge a little, the way he deserved.

What made the cash fly from her purse to Terry's palm was the certificate in the back: a half-off deal for Amusement Mile. Satisfaction was written all over her face as she studied the yellow cardstock's terms and conditions, the outline of a circus tent, the faded ink encouraging her to "Enjoy the Ride!" Coming from a rural area, she'd never gone to an amusement park. One had been four or so hours east, but her father had preferred to stay close to home, fearing he might be needed in an emergency.

The annual county fair had been a must. Everyone had worn his or her Sunday Best, the occasional breeze kicking up dirt as they toured the fairground. The rides had been creaky, unsound, and should have been reported to the local safety commission. She'd gone on the Tilt-A-Whirl and the giant slide, waving at her parents and hanging onto her burlap sack. One year, Mabel had screamed and cried until Y/N grabbed her hand and led them out of the house of mirrors.

Swinging the mallet as hard as he could, her father had impressed her mother with the strongman game. The puck wouldn't hit the bell. Doily and needlework competitions had been her mother's purview, crafts Y/N had practiced but quickly tired of. She'd preferred the pie contest. Her mouth had watered, hankering for a taste of the first-place winner. The agricultural exhibits had been the largest section, with its prized horses, pigs, and chickens. She'd broken the rules and stuck her fingers in the rabbit cages to feel their soft fur; she'd been bitten once.

Wistfulness wasn't the only reason the theme park appealed to her. There was Arthur's history with it. He kept a postcard of the Ferris wheel pinned to the divider in his writing nook. And he'd described some of the odd jobs he'd done. Carrying boxes of merchandise, filling in for other clowns, picking up litter (and keeping the returnables). It hadn't been steady, merely hours offered to him if he'd inquired. But it'd given him pocket change. Enough to buy cigarettes and keep the utilities on for another month.

The week had been warm up till now, and the good weather was expected to continue. He loved taking her to new corners of the city, had ever since their first date. Introducing her to his old stomping ground wouldn't take a lot of convincing.

When she got home, he was perched on the sofa, clad in a thermal shirt and a pair of her too-short pajama bottoms. (A funny combination that meant their laundry was in the machine.) Elbows on his knees, journal on the coffee table, and pen at the ready, his concentration was plain to see. The discipline he had to pursue his dreams, the way he studied comedy specials on TV was admirable. She got a glass of water and smiled at his ill-timed laughter. That he didn't understand the host's humor was logical. Roasts were usually unkind. While Arthur's jokes weren't always funny, they weren't mean-spirited.

She crouched next to him, peppered kisses along his shoulder. His damp curls brushed her cheek, and she breathed in the zesty musk of his shampoo. "I wouldn't waste too much effort on this guy," she said. Her caress followed the freckles on his bare forearm, feeling the muscle flutter under her fingertips. "He's kind of an asshole."

"The audience helps me figure out the timing." He muted the television, lips quirking. "You like some of his songs."

"He makes a better singer than comedian," she rebutted with a peck.

They went over their respective days, how his earlier appointment went, the paperwork she'd done. Tuna casserole was their choice for dinner, and Arthur put on an LP while they cooked. Once the dish was in the oven, she hugged him close. "I have an idea for Thursday night." She went over the Amusement Mile discount, enthused about his expertise, reveled in how her praise softened his features and brightened his eyes. "I'd love it if you took me around. Taught me all the magic behind the scenes. And I'm dying to see where you do your street performances." She massaged the nape of his neck. "Maybe I'll stop by and give you a tip."

Crooked tooth peeking out, he nodded. Then he grasped the counter on either side of her hips and pressed his forehead to hers. "That sounds great."

~~~~~

A small memorial flowerbed, filled with alternating swirls of white gardenias, purple pansies, and yellow daffodils, was situated just beyond the park's main entrance. The marble fountain bubbling in the center reminded Y/N of a bird bath. It was modest, from a bygone era in which the wealthy hadn't dared to flaunt their fortunes for fear of strikes. The bronze plaque declared the city's thanks to Benjamin Wayne for funding Amusement Mile's construction during the height of Gotham's industrial boom. Before most of the factories had fled. Before times had become tough for the majority Gothamites. It was annoying, how the Waynes had their fingers in everything. She hoped not one nickel of what they spent tonight went into their bank accounts.

Arthur paid it no mind. His head was tipped back a degree or two, his clear green eyes darting from attraction to attraction. Smoking was one of his habits she disapproved of. But she couldn't dispute how attractive he was, puffing the cigarette dangling from his puckered lips. The chestnut tones of his brown hair were brought to the fore by the grounds' multi-color lighting, and a lock or two fell over his temples. The loose curls at his neck bounced with each step, a boyish buoyancy to his gait.

Her stomach growled as soon as the aroma of fair food hit her. They picked a booth that claimed it sold Gotham's original franks. He asked to order for her. She let him, watching as his grin widened and he stated, "Four hot dogs for my girlfriend and me, please. With relish and mustard." Then they shared a candy apple, taking turns nibbling at the fruit's hard, sugary shell. Its juice dribbled onto her pale pink top, staining the embroidered neckline. Her groan of disapproval became giggling as he stole chaste kisses, wiping her off as she chewed.

His palm at the small of her back, guiding her as they walked down the midway, fanned a glow in her heart. He'd made headway when it came to displaying his affection in public, though he still tended towards timidity. Early on, she'd concluded his reticence had nothing to do with her - he never pulled away if she grabbed at him. He was simply a gentleman.

Most examples he followed were from an older era, one lost to the bluntness of the eighties. Those moments he'd let himself go, when he'd make it clear they were a couple, lifted her spirit. Not only due to the pride she felt at being on his arm, but also because it meant he was finding his own way. Arthur wasn't a shy suitor or a contemporary romantic hero. Rather, he was somewhere in the middle. Old fashioned, through and through, with threads of modernity woven into his fibers.

As they strolled, they stumbled onto a black and white photo booth. She sat on its cracked wooden stool and tried to tug him inside. But he wanted a picture of her, he said. To put in his wallet. To look at if he was having a bad day and wasn't at home. Her response was to snag his collar and yank him to her lips. Snorting, he shut the nylon curtain. At the clink of quarters in the coin slot, she straightened her puffed, cap sleeves and fixed her hair in the scratched featherweight mirror. The camera's flashes blinded her, but she thought she'd managed to smile naturally enough.

Before she had a chance to stand, he whipped open the drape and showed her the strip of portraits. "I knew I was dating the prettiest woman in the city. Maybe even the sweetest."

She cupped his cheeks as she stepped out. Rubbed the tip of her nose to his. He was unfailingly generous. Too generous. While she was fine with her appearance, she wouldn't win a beauty pageant. Hell, she wouldn't even be a runner-up. Or a contestant. And sweet was one of the last words she'd use to describe herself. But she wasn't going to correct him. "And I found the handsomest, funniest man." His stare was wide-eyed. After releasing a stuttering breath, he pulled her along.

Upon entering the gaming area, he slung his arm around her waist. Mischief laced his whisper as he spilled secrets. The darts for the balloon pop were dull, the balloons underinflated. He advised her to stay clear of the baseball and milk bottle stand, saying, "The bottom bottles have lead in them. You'll never knock them over."

Then he warned her off the ring toss, saying the rings were too small to win the best prizes. She decided to take her chances, regardless, and paid the attendant. Arthur tutted gently as she gave him the last ring, having already wasted four. A step to the side, then he paused to line up his throw. A short clap announced his victory. The prize options included a dinky toy car and a rubber snake. She picked a plastic, red keychain, embossed with "I was Amused in 1982" and the silhouette of a coaster. It was an improvement over her old car dealership tag. "I'll think of tonight whenever I see it."

Gaze fixed on her mouth, he sighed happily. He began to reach towards her, his arm raised ever so slightly-

"Art!" a rich baritone called. "Hey, Art!"

Arthur flinched. She moved to peer behind him. The approaching man was tall, his balding head half a foot higher than Arthur's. A blue and red flannel shirt with gray trousers covered his portly physique. Confidence oozed from him with every stride, a pleasantly surprised smirk on his round face.

Y/N's interest was piqued. Unless it was someone who remembered Arthur from Live! with Murray Franklin, no one ever approached him on the street. And she hadn't heard him be referred to by anything other than his proper name (besides Penny's terrible "Happy.").

But his reactions concerned her. Arthur's back tensed as the man closed in, stopping a yard away. "Hi, Randall."

"How's my boy been?" Randall asked jovially, hands at his sides. "Gary told us about your mom. Could you use a little cheering up?"

Arthur blinked faster than usual. "No. She's okay. And I feel a lot better now."

"Oh. Well, good for you," Randall said.

Going back and forth between them, she tried to puzzle out their dynamic. Their familiarity was obvious. Randall seemed caring enough, although she found it odd he'd referred to her thirty-five-year-old partner as "boy." Arthur had mentioned Gary was a former colleague. It would make sense Randall was, too.

He threw her a glance. "Hey, you have family visiting. Is this your cousin?"

She brushed off the assumption and extended her hand. "I'm Y/N L/N. His girlfriend."

"Oh, yeah. The paralegal." He shook it firmly before addressing Arthur again. "Gary said you finally got a date."

The pat to Arthur's bicep was a little too hard, jolting his stiff frame. The set of his jaw and flaring of his nostrils betrayed a turmoil she hadn't initially picked up on. She touched his hand but he shoved it in his pocket.

All right. She had to get to the bottom of this. It was hard to ascertain if his current reaction was due to his social challenges (which could cause discomfort) or Randall's words. She didn't want to jump to conclusions. After all, she and Patricia teased each other whenever they met for lunch or chatted on the phone. A good ribbing was needed every once in a while.

Starting a cross-examination in front of Arthur would contribute to his unease. After a moment's deliberation, she nudged him. It took a couple of tries to get his attention. "Would you please get us a large lemonade?" His brows rose, anxiety in the wrinkles of his forehead. She stretched to kiss his temple. His eyes narrowed but he got the hint, scuffing his shoe and glowering at Randall as he walked off.

When Arthur rounded a corner by the water pistol race, she lounged on one of the booth's metal poles. "Have you known Arthur long?"

Randall nodded in the direction Arthur had gone. "We worked at HaHa's. I'm a clown, too. We did parties, the children's hospital, store openings."

"Arthur loved that job." She crossed her arms over her chest. "It's too bad the slow season hit. But he's doing pretty well on his own."

Confusion crossed the big man's visage. "Uh, yeah. The slow season." He chuckled, then. "Anyway, you and Art, huh?"

Smiling broadly, she folded her arms over her chest. "Yes, me and Art."

"Pretty serious, huh?"

If he wanted gossip to bring back to the workplace, she'd gladly give him some. Especially if it reflected well on Arthur. "We live together. It's been great."

"No kidding." With a sardonic grin, he shook his head. "A woman like you. I didn't know he had it in him. It was always just him and his mom. Talked about stand-up sometimes. Mostly kept to himself, though. Never really talked much." Randall shrugged lightly. "But we liked him. He did all the shitty jobs no one wanted and never complained."

Arching a brow, Y/N felt her suspicions grow. While Arthur was learning to disagree and contradict her without hesitation, he nevertheless had the inclination to go along. It was plausible he hadn't argued about gigs. Had they taken his preferences into account?

Then Randall confirmed her skepticism, saying in a jokey tone, "That laugh really got everyone going, too. And his laminated cards. We had a pool on whether it was part of his act. I mean, him being in Arkham and all, who knows what the fuck he could have come up with?"

Deciphering what kind of man stood in front of her was suddenly uncomplicated. She'd run into his type all too often. They lurked in garages and offices. Diners and restaurants. Courtrooms on both sides of the bench. People with no real power who walked on others. Persons who threw their weight around to feel in charge. Bullies who hid behind a veneer of kindness.

She understood why he'd called Arthur "boy."

What she said had to be chosen carefully. Randall and Arthur worked in the same field, likely competed for clients. If her big mouth came back on Arthur, she wouldn't forgive herself. She straightened, squared her shoulders, and forced her voice to stay professional. "If you liked him, wouldn't you have split the less desirable jobs with him? I'm sure he didn't like being taken advantage of."

His looked at her in disbelief. "Hey, he was paid fair and square, like all of us."

"And he understands how to speak to a 'woman like me' more than you ever will." A sharp exhale as her cheeks burned. "From what Arthur has said, you could learn a lot from Gary. Please tell him hello from us and have a good evening." With that, she headed off to find Arthur, ignoring Randall's lame attempts to call her back.

Arthur was in line when she spotted him. He stepped forward and pointed to the menu. As she approached, she noticed how he fidgeted with his cigarette, tapping it repeatedly though there was no ash. The subtle tremble in his knee. If he continued to carry himself so tightly, his muscles would cramp.

Clearing her throat, she slipped behind him and hugged his back. "Did you have to deal with that insufferable know-it-all every day?"

He grabbed the proffered cup from the clerk and headed to a nearby table. Plunked himself down and took a drag off his smoke. Stress poured off him, clear in every flex of his fingers. His palm went to his stomach as he practiced controlling his breathing. "What- What did he tell you? That everyone thought I was a freak? How much I fucked up?" His voice lowered then, barely above a whisper. She could tell he was talking to himself. "The hospital?"

"Enough to know he was a jerk. I'm glad you're not there anymore." She put her chin on his shoulder. Watched him take a sip of lemonade. "Nothing he said matters, but I told him how important you are to me." She tucked a hair behind his ear, and he leaned into her touch. Their gazes met, his shining in the dim light. The evening had been fantastic so far. She wasn't going to let some asshole ruin it. "Come on," she urged, jutting her hip towards him. "We still have half the park to explore."

~~~~~

About a third of the way through their ride on the Mad Hatter, Amusement Mile's famous coaster, Y/N realized eating had been a mistake. A big one. Thrown to a fro in the sharp curves, she could nearly taste the bile in the throat. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, willing her nausea to pass. For his part, Arthur appeared exhilarated, laughing with every peak and valley. Seeing that happiness was a gift, one that gratified and partially distracted from her queasiness.

Fortunately, the enclosed cabins on the Ferris wheel were a respite. They waited an extra turn to board the outer wheel, which rotated at a leisurely pace and allowed her stomach to settle. The view from the top was beautiful, Gotham Cathedral's lit spires and the Westward Bridge prominent against the night sky. Wayne Tower was also visible, but she did her best to ignore the high-rise and its gaudy "W." He pointed in the direction of Burnley and said, "There's our home." She was unexpectedly moved. Then he kissed her soundly, which quickly advanced to mild necking when the wheel paused.

The carousel was antique, according to the sign. The only original attraction left in the park. A massive wooden structure with a mirrored center, it had three rows of horses, broken up by the occasional bench. He stepped onto the gray platform and picked one, painted red and yellow, roses etched along its back. But she climbed a nearby leaping horse instead, its black mane and tan body faded by years of sunlight.

He quirked a dark brow until she beckoned him with a nod. Cheeks pink, countenance tender in the lingering blinks of the incandescent bulbs, he followed suit. "Hang onto me," she instructed. As the calliope's whistles began their jaunty tune, he cupped her hips and pressed into her. A flutter tickled her stomach. She reclined against him, let her eyes fall shut as his warmth surrounded her. Round and round they went, chuckling airily. Not at any jokes or amusements, but at the joy of one another.

Arthur picked the last ride, an old mill called Romantic River Caves. She had to stop herself from snickering at the idea of a middle-aged woman and her nearly-middle-aged boyfriend cruising along in something built for teenagers. But he delighted in cliches and corniness, a preference she attributed to his inexperience and kind nature. Though such gestures hadn't thrilled her since she was a girl, she appreciated them with him.

The boats were short and narrow, just wide enough for the two of them to sit side-by-side. Curved backrests encouraged cuddling. Off-key versions of old standards played through tinny speakers. Myriad displays were inside, a mix of plaster dioramas and paintings. Two swans swimming, their beaks touching. A couple on a picnic under a tree. Bouquets and hearts galore. There were five or so seconds of darkness between each one. He took advantage of those breaks, kissing her again and again until she was breathless.

She scanned the starry painting above them, the comets' trails stretched across the tunnel's ceiling. "It's been a long time since I've done anything like this. Twenty-five? Thirty years?"

"Me, too. I snuck in when I was a kid. To see the circus and the merry-go-round." He smoothed his hair back, pressed his legs tighter together. "When I moonlighted here, I could've gone on the rides and to the shows. I- I didn't want to alone."

He paused and she put her palm on his thigh. Gave him an encouraging squeeze. "That postcard I have?" he said. "By my desk? It was in my locker at HaHa's." His fingers covered hers, tips tracing her knuckles. "It's good to have a person to have fun with. To have you."

She beamed at that sentiment, for she felt it, too. Yes, she'd been complete on her own. No, she hadn't been lonely. But he added to her existence. Introduced her to activities and experiences she hadn't previously considered or realized she'd needed. Going to a comedy club. Dancing despite her lack of skill. Or enjoying vulnerability during quiet conversations in their bedroom rather than fearing it. He'd broadened her life in ways she was still discovering. And he regularly told her she'd bettered his. "You're my favorite ride," she said.

A sharp snort left him, followed by a bashful chuckle. He shook his head. "You're crazy."

"I didn't mean that." She batted his chest playfully. Tried to cross her legs under the safety bar. "This relationship we've started." Light appeared at the end of the tunnel, the shallow pool's grimy floor coming into view as the water level fell. Soon they'd be amongst the crowd. "Remember when I said we'd never be perfect? I like our imperfections. They fit. Like..." She contemplated. "A pen and paper. They're good on their own but they're best together." Cringing, she covered her face. "God, that didn't even make sense. A pen needs paper."

"Didn't you say you needed me?" he teased, pulling her hand from her brow to place it on his sternum. "I don't mind being your paper." Blushing, Y/N turned to him when he cupped her jaw. Ran his thumbs over her cheeks. She joined him in ignoring the attendant's instruction to disembark. Arthur kissed her, a delicate graze to her mouth before he drew her bottom lip between his. "You're the best ride, too."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve, @howdylilflower, @sweet-nothings04, @stephieraptorr, @rommies, @fallenstarsabyss, @gruffle1, @octopus-plasma, @tsukiakarinobara, @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile, @another-day-in-chuckletown, @hhandley80, @jokerownsmysoul, @64-crayon

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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alostsock · 5 years ago

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Baby!Buck AU 12/12

TW: The abuse (emotional, verbal and physical) is discussed openly.

Also I don’t know anything about anything American law (or any law, really) or about getting custody of a kid, so hopefully it’s plausible but sorry if it’s way off.

I did google how much the tooth fairy leaves on average.

Also also I suppose this is the last part? Hoping to tie up the loose ends I left lying around and end it here, but maybe come back to this AU with one-shots later if anything comes to me?

Thank you to everyone who read and liked and commented! I read them all and I’m very grateful (and surprised that there are people who are into this random thing that my brain spat out), and especially thank you to @datleggy for putting up with my rambling and giving this a once-over.

---

They settle into a routine. Chimney takes over babysitting duties from the Buckleys’ neighbour when he’s off shift, and most days he babysits he takes the kid by the firehouse.

He spends the night at the Buckley apartment more and more often, so it’s really pretty inevitable that he eventually witnesses Evan’s nightmares. They happen fairly frequently at first, but then, as time goes on, less and less often. He knows Maddie has been taking him to a child psychologist, so he supposes, and hopes, that that’s helping.

Even with their lessening frequency, Chimney is pretty used to being woken up by cries from the next room, to following Maddie as she jumps out of bed and races to her brother, to watching sadly, wishing he knew how to help, as she holds him while he cries.

What Chimney isn’t expecting to be woken by, however, is tossing and turning and a flailing arm from right beside him.

“Maddie? Maddie it was just a dream, you’re okay, you’re okay.” She’s shaking her head desperately, pushing his hands off of her as she untangles herself from the bedsheets and runs to Evan’s room. Evan is still asleep, the stuffed whale’s tail held loosely in his hand, and Maddie’s breathes a sigh of relief which quickly turns into sobs that she covers her mouth to try to stifle.

“Come on, it’s okay.” He puts his arm around her and ushers her out of Evan’s room and back to their own. Getting back into bed he pulls her close to him, and she tucks herself against his chest, trying to wipe away her tears. “Do you want to tell me what it was about? Might help to talk about it?”

At first Maddie starts to shake her head, but then she hesitates. She turns in his grip to face him more fully, nervously looking into his eyes before sighing and settling back into his hold.

“I’m...” Chimney presses a kiss to her hair, waiting for her to continue. “I... never told you why we moved out here.”

Chimney stills. He had wondered, sure, had suspected it wasn’t exactly a happy story. But in the months they’d known each other, he really hadn’t learned anything about it. He knows they’re from Pennsylvania, he knows where Maddie got her nursing degree, he’s heard her mention at least one cousin but... that’s it. He doesn’t actually even know her parents’ names.

“My parents... I mean... they were okay with me, I guess. A little emotionally distant but they never hurt me or anything. Average, worked a lot, left me home alone a lot but it was fine. I had food and a roof and it was... it was fine.”

Chimney doesn’t really think that that sounds like it was actually fine, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“Evan was... Evan was an accident.” She’s whispering now, giving the closed door furtive glances. It’s obviously something she doesn’t want Evan to overhear, and it’s just as obvious why. “And then dad got laid off when he was just a baby, and money was tight, and he started drinking more, and sometimes when he was drunk he would... he would tell Evan that he was a mistake, that he was a waste of money, of time, of space...” She’s crying, tears streaming down her face. Chimney’s frozen. Everything is starting to make sense. “He started picking up jobs here and there but he was still... he was still drinking... still angry, still telling this... this toddler, this baby, who never wanted anything more than a little love, that he was in the way, and that he cost too much and that he was a mistake and that.... that he regretted him being born at all. Evan’s been... he’s been hearing those things since before he was even old enough to understand what they meant. I mean... some of them he probably still doesn’t understand but... it’s all he knew, for so, so long.”

Chimney squeezes her tighter, tears pricking at his eyes.

“Our mom... she was kind of detached, and even though she was feeding him and putting him to bed she just... wasn’t really there. I don’t know if she really cared at all, which I never... I never understood. The moment I held him in my arms I was completely in love. Those blue eyes and the little tuft of blond hair and I was in love with that baby, with every bit of my being but she just...” She shakes her head, swiping quickly at the tears on her face before continuing.

“Evan was two when I graduated high school and I already knew it was bad...but I... I was eighteen and I kind of wanted to grab him and run but I didn’t have any money, I didn’t have a job and... I had an offer to nursing school with some scholarships and I got a few loans and...” she breaks off with a sob. Chimney just holds her tighter. “I left him.”

“Maddie...”

“No. I... I left him there.” She covers her mouth, trying to cry silently, not wanting to wake up her brother. “I told myself they weren’t physically hurting him and I left him there alone.”

Chimney shakes his head desperately, searching for the right words to say. She was young, she didn’t have the means to take care of him... it must have felt impossible.

“You were a child, Maddie. You have him now, and he’s safe and happy and he has a whole bunch of people who love him. I love that kid. So much.”

Maddie looks up into his eyes again before ducking her head back down in shame.

“No. It... Every time I went back to visit it was worse.”

Chimney feels his stomach sinking. “Worse?”

“I started seeing the bruises and even with all the excuses they made I knew... and so I started to look into if it really would be possible for me to get him, but being halfway through school, and jobless and... I knew it would be hard. And every time I would leave for school again he would cling to me and cry, and I just... kept leaving him. Telling him that it was going to be okay, that I’d be back for him soon.”

Chimney starts running his fingers through her hair, but keeps quiet.

“He broke his arm once, when he was five. Hairline fracture, he had a cast when I got back for Christmas. Our mom said he fell off the playground, and Evan never disagreed. God, he never wanted anything but to please them. He’d agree with anything, say anything, do anything they asked. I still don’t know for sure what happened. I mean maybe he did just fall off the playground.

“I graduated, and so I was applying for jobs and for custody at the same time. They didn’t want to give it up. I don’t even know why, but they fought it, and without any concrete proof...”

She turns in his hold, tucking herself into his side with a sigh.

“Then everything kind of happened at once. I got a long-term offer here in LA, and a week or so after dad came home really drunk, and angry, and he pushed Evan down the stairs, knocked Mom into a cabinet. Evan broke his arm. The same one, actually, but a compound fracture this time. God, his tiny, tiny arm just...” She shakes her head. “Mom was concussed, and she finally admitted to the... the abuse at the hospital, said she’d support my application, and so it got pushed through and before the end of the month we were here.”

Chimney presses a kiss to her hair, speechless for a moment. He clears the emotion from his throat.

“Maddie... Maddie... I’m so, so glad you’re both safe. And I’m so glad you’re both here.”

“He never laid a hand on me, though, I...” Chimney cut her off.

“No, no. I’m glad you’re both safe, and away from all that.” He pauses as questions pop into his head. “Wait, do they know where you are? Would... would they do anything if they did?”

Maddie shakes her head. “They know I got a job in California, but they don’t know where. I didn’t tell them where I was going, and I didn’t give them my new number. I just... I wanted Evan to have a fresh start. He’s eight and he has so much anxiety and fear and... I thought he deserved one.”

“He did. You did too.” He tucks her hair behind her ear. “And you have a family here, now. You both do. You’ll be okay.”

---

Hen becomes “Auntie Hen,” and Bobby becomes “Uncle Bobby” and sometimes “Uncle Cap,” which is usually accompanied by a cheeky grin and followed by tickle fights. They have barbecues at Bobby’s place, and movie nights at Hen’s, and go out as a team for picnics at the beach.

The other firefighters continue calling Evan “Firefighter Buckley,” which becomes “Buckley” which becomes just “Buck” and then becomes so engrained that when they get him a tiny t-shirt with the LAFD logo printed on it for Christmas, they stamp “Buck” across the back.

Evan loses a tooth and Chimney slips a $20 bill under his pillow to join Maddie’s dollar, and when Maddie realizes she shoots Chimney an exasperated look, trying to look disapproving but clearly fighting to hide a grin.

Maddie, Chimney and Evan go whale watching for Evan’s birthday, and Chimney doesn’t think he’s ever seen his kid smile so brightly. He hangs a picture of the three of them in his locker, and tries to remember just when Evan became his.

They’ll be okay.

#babybuckau #buck #maddie #chim #bobby #hen #9-1-1 #au

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hqprotectionsquad · 5 years ago

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Meant To Be (Part Two - Tadashi x Reader)

Title: Meant To Be Ship: Tadashi x Reader Word Count: 2415 Summary: Tadashi never expected himself to be at a frat party on the first night of college, and Y/N never expected herself to end up at a frat party with a boy she just met.

(accidentally messed up my post so it’s not the same summary, and i wish i remembered what it was :c)

Meant To Be - Part One here!

“This isn’t really where I expected myself to be on the night of my first day at college,” Tadashi muses as he swirls his head to take in all the sights. A frat party of all places. The multicolored lights block your vision almost completely and it’s hard to see what’s in front of you. People splay wide on each other with the cracked leather couches underneath each other, and it’s impossible to turn in one direction and not see anyone sucking face.

Your friend, Michi, told you to bring your “cutie,” when she started donning her clothing back in your dorm room. You laughed upon hearing that and turned to look at her final outfit of barely anything at that matter. Were your leggings and flannel not enough? Whatever. It didn’t matter because Michi was there to attempt to find her latest flavor and you were just strung along, and you were most definitely not going through this experience alone.

Tadashi came along on his own will and boy, you are so glad that he’s the one by your side at this very moment. “Michi needed friends to come along, but at least she told me that since we also brought our friends, Kazuo and Chihiro, we’re okay to leave if we want to.” You raise your voice but Tadashi can just barely hear you over the pounding music that flows throughout the house. No matter where in the world, you suppose the fraternities know how to throw a party.

His head leans down by your ear to say, “I can’t believe I had to pay to get in but you didn’t!” The mere centimeters between his lips and your ear make you slightly delirious and you don’t even have anything in your system yet.

Despite his efforts to make himself clearer, there’s no point. “I can’t hear you, Tadashi!”

His hand grasps your fingers as Tadashi walks to anywhere he feels like the decibels decrease. He’s quite the tall boy, but you already noticed that before. In this dark lighting, there are glimpses of freckles that adorn his neck but you can’t tell if they go down further since his corduroy jacket hugs his nape. He has a bit of a homey, but fashionable taste in clothing, you might add.

When he halts by the kitchen, he is happier that at least he can hear and see you properly, despite the sloshing of people and alcohol. After watching people throw back their heads to send the liquor down their throats, Tadashi has a better idea that makes up for him having to pay an entrance fee, even if he’s a little disturbed by the thought popping into his head. “Do you know what’s the best to drink?”

The look on his face tells you that he’s never really done anything like this before. “What if we both take shots? Just to get it over with and then take it from there.” You pull plastic cups off the counter and pour in enough of the liquor to cover the bottom of them. The potent liquid appears like water, but you know better. One of the red cups goes into his hand and Tadashi purses his lips and furrows his brows when the scent hits his nose.

“Have you tried this before? It’s going to burn our throats, won’t it?” A controlled breath pushes through his mouth. You nod with a giggle flowing out of your mouth. You haven’t even had a sip and you can feel crimson dashes coating your cheeks. What is going on, you’re never like this around, boys, girls — anyone for that matter.

“We should do it together on a count of three. At least, that way, we can’t chicken out.” The corner of your lip curls into a triumphant grin. There’s no way you’ll get this virgin out of this important event of life. Tadashi’s head bobs up and down with an affirmative strength. You bump your cup against his and count down. “Three, two, one.”

It’s more of a smoother transition from plastic to throat for you. You press your mouth against your elbow for a polite cough, not wanting your messy saliva to get all over the place. On the other hand, you keep an eye on Tadashi as he hesitates to lift the rim up to his lips. The next second, he tosses the liquid back and it sails along his tongue, searing his taste buds. He resists the urge to hack it up and onto the floor, so he forces it down, but the taste remains on the inside of his cheeks.

“So,” you poke his side with a finger as you speak. “How was it?” You ask even though his facial expression tells it all — his nose scrunches when you ask the question. It’s so obvious.

“Probably won’t be doing that again for a while.” Tadashi mutters and a laugh comes out after. A smile surfaces on your face without you even noticing. Has his cheeks always been dusted with the same freckles of his neck? Has he always shined this bright among people? How is this the first time you’ve met this boy? “I don’t think hard alcohol seems to be my cup of tea.”

“It’s okay. It’s just something to get us loose,” you mention, though you don’t want to keep shoving down liquor like everyone else in this room is. You want to remember these moments, whatever this night will bring to you. You find a liter of soda somewhere and unscrew the cap. “Maybe you’re just a sweet tooth.” You pour a bit into both of your cups and set the liter off to the side for the next person to use.

Tadashi sips from the cup without a beat to wait. He takes a minute to look all around him and you can’t really tell what he’s thinking about as he sees these girls and boys who all seem to know what they’re doing. Everyone here has an idea of what they want to be or who they want to be with, no matter their age or gender. It kind of makes you wish you were at least a little normal.

“Who goes to college without an idea of what they want to do?” Your mother sneered at you when you clicked the button that sucked away a portion of your money. “I can’t believe you’re enrolling without a single idea of what you’d want to be after that. You need to decide otherwise…” She thought of a consequence on the spot and the next words that came out her mouth pierced your heart and ripped it to shreds. “Otherwise, I won’t pay for your education. You’ll have to find a way to pay for it yourself.”

“Mom!” You pushed away from the table and stood up to meet her eyes. Her voice didn’t seem convincing but you knew that look. That look was deadly and worked every single time. There was no one to save you here, nobody to convince her otherwise. “Okay. Fine. Just give me my first year, both semesters. I’ll figure it out.”

That conversation was two months ago and on this first day of being immersed in the college atmosphere, the tightness in your chest from that day returns at this very moment. Why are you even here? In college?

“I miss my friend,” Tadashi says, breaking you out of your clouds. “He’s in school in Tokyo. He wants to study history. He’s always wanted to work in a museum, so it makes sense.” That is what was reeling in his mind as he looked at the kissing couples and the drunk students, completely different from you.

“He seems nice.” Another sip from your cup allows you to think of what to say next. What are you supposed to say next? “You know what, let’s get out of here.” You can’t take the thermal tension building within this one room. You’ll get another experience to go to a party, but you just need to get out.

“Leave?” He scratches his temple with his nail. A nervous smile dances onto his face and his tongue swipes along his bottom lip. Does he know that with the slightest effort, he can make anyone fall for him? “Are you sure, because we can stay if you want more—”

“I really don’t. I’m not as big a drinker as Michi, or really anyone.” The truth seems a little lame when you say it out loud but Tadashi lets out a sigh of relief.

“I thought you were going to say you wanted to drink more. I’m glad you’re not.”

“We can head back to my dorm, if you want. Since Michi’s staying here for a while, she’ll probably crash at Chihiro’s room.” You toss your empty cup into the plastic bag on the side of the kitchen. “We’ll be by ourselves,” you add, albeit with your cheeks glowing, either from the influx of alcohol in your system or for a separate reason.

The icy air flutters across your skins as you and Tadashi take your leave after attempting to say goodbye to Michi, Kazuo, and Chihiro. It ends up being no use because you’re sure Michi is sidling up to some guy she just met, and at some point in the evening, you’re certain Kazuo will blubber to Chihiro of the feelings he’s harbored for her since middle school. Your friends can be predictable, which is why you’re thankful for Tadashi. He’s been unexpected since you’ve met him this afternoon. You definitely could not have expected to be at a frat party with him tonight and bringing him to your dorm with no specific intentions except to free yourselves from the stuffy house.

“It’s nice outside, especially after being in there for a bit,” Tadashi does not say this to you specifically, but to the open, because when you open up your mouth to form a reply, he’s already looking straight ahead. “Oh! I forgot to ask earlier.”

“Yes?”

“Where’s your dorm? I think I might be leading us to a random place.” Tadashi rubs the back of his neck and when he exhales, you can see his breath swirling in the wind.

Oh. That’s what he was referring to, not anything else. Silly of you to think otherwise. “I live in one of the dorms close by here. I’ll just lead.”

For the next ten to fifteen minutes leading until you are standing in front of your dorm door, no words are exchanged. With the quiet steps hitting the pavement, you hope — for two seconds — that you stayed at the party, just for one more shot. The effects are already starting to wear off and not that you want to mask your feelings behind alcohol, but it would sure help.

Your fingers vibrate while you jiggle the key into the doorknob, yet you miss it the first couple of times because your fingers are shaking and it’s gotten to the point that you can’t really tell if they are shaking from the high you’re experiencing from the alcohol or the boy who is standing really close to you.

“Let me help you,” he says with a laugh. Maybe he’s not a lightweight like you. On his first try, he pushes the door open with ease.

“I’m guessing the alcohol didn’t get to you the same way it got to me,” you murmur. You think to opt for your bed, but instead you cross your legs on the carpeted floor, patting the space in front of you for him to sit.

“It’s my first time, so I don’t really know what to expect.” Tadashi crouches down and when he mimics your position, you realize that his cheeks are bright red.

“Your cheeks are as red as mine,” you giggle with delight. There’s not much to say except make small conversation, but if this is what it comes to, then you are more than happy to participate. Not just everyone meets a person like this on their first day of college, and you don’t want to let him go.

Maybe it’s the dimmed lights that are stringed around the perimeter of the dorm, or perhaps it’s how close your knees are to touching, but this only reminds Tadashi of better times. He’s already sobering up and he wants this to be one of those times he looks back on. What kind of movie is he living in?

He inches toward you and your clothed knees brush against his. The slight bit of tension that ensues is overbearing. Have you been this pretty your whole life? Tadashi’s lips press against yours. It’s just as he imagined this to be: soft and sweet, though a little tangy from the vodka. His palm cups the edge of your jaw and his fingers splay against your cheek.

Tadashi pulls away with wide eyes. “I just remembered I forgot to speak to my parents. They told me to call them when I had the chance tonight.”

He begins pulling out his phone, when you pat his hand with a smile. “You probably shouldn’t talk to them now, we’re both a little drunk.” You don’t even know how that would go down. Even though Tadashi’s more sober than you are, it might be awkward if he ever let out the truth of where he went tonight, where he is right now, and who he’s been with.

“Oh. You’re right.” Tadashi slips his phone back into his pants pocket. “Was that kiss okay? Did I read the situation wrong?” His cheeks start to flare up again like fireworks. He twiddles with his fingers in his lap, suddenly interested in how the pads from one hand touch the other.

“Tadashi, I liked it a lot.” You reach out to slip your hand into his and it surprises you that he allows it to happen. Your heart is beating against your ribcage, threatening to slip out of your body, and your pulse speeds up when his hazel eyes meet yours.

His voice comes out timid, and you can barely hear him when he asks, “So you wouldn’t mind it if I did it again?”

“I’d like it if you did it again.” His lips are slightly chapped when they’re molding with yours but you don’t mind it at all. Perhaps leaving the party after one drink is the best thing that could have happened to you.

#haikyuuwritersnet #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq!!#haikyuu writing #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu one shot #hq!! oneshot #hq!! fanfiction #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi #tadashi yamaguchi #yamaguchi x reader #tadashi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #yamaguchi haikyuu #karasuno #karasuno x reader

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lost-in-interwebs · 4 years ago

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47, 48, 49!

these are not all my nv ocs. there are some that require a lot more research and game playing before I put anything down officially. I may come back and edit this but probably not because im too stupid. HERE WE GO.

Vices

Karmin (The Self Insert)

Rum and Nuka some nights

Taking everything that isn't nailed down

........weed....... (in her story, someone finds the weed in the EPA building and finds a way to produce it again. I know its corny ignore it)

over eating. she suffers from disordered eating so she has the tendency to stuff herself silly.

Mentats for Adhd baby (not a vice but it reminded me of it)

Bunny Bishop

Loves good Wine.... maybe a little too much

Will drink a scotch to think of her dad

cigarettes

she steals clothes and jewelry and loose caps when she can. she used to be quite rich but being disowned by her father has made her desperate.

coffee with lots of sugar and cream

Med-X.

Absinthe

Shiloh Wright

No vices. They were brought up in a highly religious home due to their grandmother and with a controlling, alcoholic grandfather.

Their sister Ethel is the same.

Monika

Wine but not often

Cooking

Karmin

Loves to cook, is always happy to cook. Hates doing dishes. Hates it. Loathes it. But still makes large meals for her and her traveling companions. She's an okay cook. Fattens the food up some. she's always experimenting with improving meals to make them more satisfying rather than just eating to survive. She loves most meats, noodles, beans, salads, trail mix and radscorpion casseroles. No bug meat or eggs. She'll do what she can, but she does not like it. Especially bloatfly.

Bunny Bishop

Mostly knows how to make noodles or stews, but thats it. Is not competent in the kitchen, was never taught, had a nanny or one of her father's men take care of it. Lot of restaurants food as well. Loves sweets and red meats. Very refined palate for a Wasteland girl.

Will eat everything and anything. Raw, burnt, spoiled. Copious amounts of food. Trash. Some times cloth or paper. She learns to enjoy meals as she finally makes friends.

Shiloh Wright

Is competent with meals, having to teach themselves later in life when they moved out on their own as a young adult. Much more on the healthy side, but has a sweet tooth.

Monika

Monika comes from one of the richest families in the NCR. Her meals were made for her. She spent lunches at local restaurants in the capital formerly known as Shady Sands, Vault City, and New Reno with giggling friends. Money to spare. New Vegas was supposed to be a humbling experience of learning to work and rely on yourself. Her first meals are shoddy, but learns well over time.

Who did they kill?

Karmin

Caesar and Vulpes (at camp after doing as much work as she could while maintaining rep with everyone to get as much done as possible)

Benny (mercy kill after sex. I felt bad that about all the other options and didn't know he could be let go to run free. so I let him nut and die. in another life he becomes a companion)

Hasn't met Kimball yet, too soon to determine his fate.

Mr. House will be killed very soon

Negotiated peace with NCR and Brotherhood.

Bunny Bishop

Probably kills Caesar and Vulpes after upgrading the securities.

Sets Benny free, asks him to be her lover. He refuses, knows she's connected to Mr. House. Doesn't want to sit back and see Vegas go that way.

I haven't played enough of the route to know what House commands to do with Kimball.

Yes Man is found and kept like a pet who is constantly getting lost and taken due to his programming.

Is really going to be a follower for a courier. 9f she was she would go an independent route.

Shiloh Wright

Shiloh is also more of a character the courier meets rather than is the courier, but definitely would advocate for an independent Mojave.

Monika

Kills Benny right in the middle of the Tops

Vulpes would have been killed right after he dropped off the Mark of Caesar to her. While his back was turned. Kills two men in one day.

Yes Man is kept

Kills Mr. House

Is absolutely my NCR route but I've never played it yet so I'm not sure how her story will go.

#oc asks #karmin #13 #monika #bunny #shiloh

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content-to-convert · 4 years ago

Text

VIDEO DIDN’T KILL THE RADIO STAR...

VIDEO DIDN’T KILL THE RADIO STAR it just made him dress nicer

By Pat Mellon

Speaking of your brand evolving, PODCASTS are now a wise bullet to have in the arsenal of promotional weapons. In the early 2000's, for instance, you didn't have the option to record and distribute a PODCAST. The technology didn't exist to even IDENTIFY, much less create one- if you typed PODCAST into an email in 2002, it would have been flagged as a misspelling.

But now, thanks to Audioblogging, re-branded as PODCASTING thanks to the iPOD, you can reach a targeted captive audience in a car on a long commute, with content that they've actually sought out. It's essentially a radio infomercial for the lifestyle of your product, without the PAID-PROGRAMMING aftertaste. Plenty of people have been slow to warm to the idea of such self-promotion and have waited to see if the technology and its effectiveness sustained or if it waned, the way QR codes did, or video discs did until the invention of the DVD. It can be an amazingly powerful part of your brand.

Many rejected podcasting, as I did initially, as a waste of energy. In fairness, early on when there were no networks for podcasting and its business model was less focused than now, it smacked of self-congratulatory volunteer work. I saw it as an infringement on my profession. I have 15 years of radio hosting experience. I saw podcasts as competition. In my short-sighted view then, I didn't see the full potential of a podcast. I just saw it as people wanting my job. But as time went on, I began to see the ways, at least in terms of in-car entertainment, that podcasting was the future. And like the cryptic fortune cookie says, "Kill Your Darlings". Or maybe go with the less-confusing, "Reinvent Your Business Constantly. The End Goal May Be The Same But The Tools and Methods Evolve Constantly" which is a Ken Tucker quote I saw on a Snapple Cap. Or even the more direct, "You Have To Reinvent To Stay Fresh and In The Game" which Madonna said once.

But early on, I saw it as the enemy - the way news journalists must have felt when FREELANCERS started getting a lot of the work in the late 90's. I thought, "If all you need to broadcast is a computer and an opinion, why the hell did I major in Broadcasting? It's like everyone becoming a Youtuber or a Social Media Influencer (seriously, that is NOT a good name. It's just saying what you're doing. It lacks creativity, like naming the glass thing you drink out of a "glass". Or the room with the bed a "bedroom". Or the thing you swing on a "swing". Or the... Sorry-I'll move on.) Anybody can become a Social Media Influencer these days, (and if they're under 14 and haven't been trying for half their lives then you might want to make sure they're breathing) and that means fame, sometimes money, but more important: LIKES. I overheard my 8 year-old playing with her friends and they were pretending there was a genie or something granting wishes and one girl asked for a pony, and another asked for a house of chocolate, and my daughter asked for a million LIKES on her video. LIKES are currency for pre-teen popularity. And LIKES or even merely PAGE VIEWS can be currency in the grown-up world of business. My point is that anyone with a computer and a camera can make money on Youtube if they hustle. It's simply the new normal. It's great, if not dangerous. We've yet to see the fallout of a generation raised on Youtubing, unless, of course, you count cautionary tales like Logan Paul or Jo Jo Siwa, both of whom are rich. It's simply another entertainment option for kids. I kinda thought podcasting was that, but for adults who only wanted quasi-fame; to show-off. But it's bigger than that.

If you're a plumber, for instance, and you want to maximize business, you probably want a decent social media footprint, some solid YELP reviews, and maybe even a podcast. Toilet clogged? Click here for an interview with master plumbers from all over. It's not the ONLY thing you should do. It's ONE of the things you should do.

On the consumer side, you have to realize that traffic, especially the bumper-to-bumper kind, is GOLD to a radio talk show host. People listen the most in their cars, so DJ's in New York and Los Angeles, the #1 and #2 radio markets depending on who you ask*, for instance, who entertain on the radio, are always on their toes to stay funny and relevant because it's so easy to push a button and change the station.

Then suddenly there was a new game in town. People were bypassing the radio altogether and plugging external sources into car sound systems, removing the commercials and unwanted Morning Zoo shenanigans, and rendering my entire college education and training void. My only hope was wishing death to the podcast movement, which I think I did a couple of times on the radio accompanied by a sound effect of a toilet flushing (Take THAT, Podcasting!). It didn't work. I kept hearing the word. Podcast. (eerie voice) PODD CAAAST! My head was in the sand. People would say to me, "you should do a podcast" and I'd cringe and wildly swing fists at imaginary ghosts who were accusing me of "Resting on your laurels" and "Holding on too tight.”

It took a while, but I get the appeal and, more importantly, the power of the Podcast. It's like a book-on-tape for the 21st century- 10 times as cool, though, because it's technologically relevant, and can be different every time you listen. So we agree that podcasts are real. And we acknowledge that there is room for many things on the dashboard of a car, be them outlets, or additional buttons. And we agree that the the way we do business is always changing and we have to adapt to some degree. So why all the hub bub? Because we can't have an intelligent conversation about the delicate existence of Podcasts without talking about Shane Gillis, the comedian who was hired and fired by Saturday Night Live in the same week last year. We need to understand the power of what it was that torpedoed his streetcar (tune into Mixed Metaphors with Pat Mellon Tuesdays on The Podd Couple, right after Poddamnit at 8, and Pod of Thunder with Gene Simmons at 8:17) He and a buddy do this show, this podcast, it's like a radio show but you don't listen to it on your grandpa's Victrola, you tether your MP3 player to the radio inside grandpa's Camry, and there's bad language, which there never is on traditional, boring old dumb talk radio, so right away, it's awesome (honestly, the only difference between Howard Stern on radio and Howard Stern on satellite is the F word) and the internet allows curses and take that, Mr. Suit and Tie, and this is going to be amazing. And on one particular show from 2018, Gillis said "chink" when describing someone in Chinatown. Not a huge scandal, but I guess you'd have to ask Roseanne Barr if the internet can get you into to any kind of trouble. She was exiled from the the entire US for a social media post that mentioned race and monkeys. And the same new normal that allows John Q. Anybody to do a podcast ALSO watches everything you do online and will sink you if it sees something it does not like. America can be confusing that way. Freedom of speech and freedom of complaining about freedom of speech are always at each other's throats, it seems. And you can't have it both ways. The guy who alerted the world to Bill Cosby's dating rituals online is loved by many but is also shunned by others, but that guy knows what he did and he knows not to complain about the ones who, well, complain. It's the price you pay.

The point is, you need to constantly be hustling and using all of technology’s modern tools to get your product out (they’re not burning DVD’s anymore) and maybe one of those avenues is a podcast with salty language, and maybe that podcast exists among your body of work that clients can enjoy whenever they want.

But we live in a new age of retroactive outrage. Eddie Murphy was on SNL and is arguably the most talented person the show has produced. He did a stand-up special in which he explores “What if Mr. T were a Faggot?” It was inflammatory and it was insensitive and it was homophobic (though that buzzword was still a decade from conception) because the premise of the joke- the attribution of homosexual behavior to a big, strong, black man being marginalized as solely predatory sodomy - crossed the line. When I spell it out like that it looks horrible. But it’s a simple comedic device: assigning unlikely behavior to someone for comedic purposes. It’s the fish-out-of-water gag. It’s why we had Mork, and Alf, and Balkie from Perfect Strangers. It’s Freaky Friday. It’s why The Rock playing a babysitter or a tooth fairy is funny. Murphy did this AFTER he was on SNL. But if has been released before he auditioned, do you think he’d have been hired?

Of course he would have. Because the Mr. T thing was a small part of that special (though, I recall, an extremely quotable part) and the people who didn’t like or appreciate the language didn’t have the bionic megaphone of the internet so they could get their outrage all over your conscience. The point is that your podcast is a reflection of your brand. You have to weigh your desire to speak freely and loosely with your desire to keep the Cancel Culture at bay. At a MINIMUM, though, you should keep things clean for your clients, listeners, and most importantly, your potential customers. Shane Gillis missed out of being on SNL and fame, instead on infamy because he broke one of society's biggest rules:he said something controversial out loud. Granted, it was in bad taste, but if that were a crime half of us would be in jail. It's just important to remember that your language on a work-based podcast should be professional, which I realize cannot be defined easily, but maybe stay away from slang and cursing. Just because you CAN doesn't mean you SHOULD.

#podcast comedy hilarious

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ethernluki · 2 years ago

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The First Time I Accidentally Wandered Too Far Away.

It was very rare for me as a kid to go to the beach or go swimming as the entry cost was usually a fortune for the 20 of us, but once a year we would go to this creak during the summer to meet up with family we hadn’t seen in a long time and as you can probably infer my extended family was very crowded with all the mass amounts of identical faces from all my brothers. Four sets of twins and three sets of triplets can really mess up a large family gathering. Plus of course; me. But I was usually just passed off as the illiterate one and most of the cousins and aunts/uncles would pity me and give me cookies or something so that I would just go away. I was ”mute” to most of them until about age 11. I think I really started grasping english a long time before but I still spoke and thought in Tsi so I didn’t often need to use english. (especially since at home my brothers would also speak in Tsi) Anyways the main point of the trip was always the food, then the games of kick ball and then to end the day with a whole ton of fireworks, like a whole ton. But usually at some point in the day my brothers would loose track of my non-english brain and I would venture too far down stream of the creak until the water expanded and got really deep and then spilled into a lake. Now the whole thing would eventually loop back around into the creak and as long as you stayed to the left of the water paths you wouldn’t end up in this lake. (and there were plenty of signs telling you to stay to the left and to move to the left, the currant wasn’t strong so this wasn’t hard. The hard part was again the fact that I could not in any capacity speak, read, or understand any english.)and it just so happened that one year (i was probably 6 maybe 7) I went too far down the water and failed to keep left and got sucked into deeper currents of water and seriously swept out into a giant lake.

Now nothing bad happened to me. I floated around a bit for a good couple of hours, eventually ended up falling asleep and then waking up on the lake’s beach. Which was mostly hard rocks and sand and sticks and trees and such. anyways at this point I just decided to get up and start walking in a random direction, (following the edge of the lake of course)

During the whole thing I saw and found a lot of cool things. That I just pocketed into the pockets of my brothers’ hand-me-down swim trunks. most of my trinkets were thinks like rocks and shells and the odd button or two, but I also pocketed a .38 caliber bullet, a bloody fox tooth, a raven egg, four nickels,(because I recognized money) a twenty dollar bill, an old soda pop cap, a joint, a magnet, the cap to a sharpie pen, a fake ID, and one of those mini bottles of vodka that they give you on airplanes. It was empty.

I’m not sure how long It took me to get back to the pavilion by the creak my family was staying in but when I did get back I knew it had been a really long time and expected someone to have wondered about where I was. My pockets were full to the max and I was waddling through camp looking for anyone of my multitude of brothers to tell them to call off the search party. The first one I found brushed me off and continued to only speak in english. This was until I told him I had gone to ”eyo’shena” other wise known as ”the endless waters” which was the word for ocean. To which he responded ”that’s impossible idiot we’re landlocked” and promptly left me by the swings alone again. The same reaction followed for most of my siblings. I say most because after getting the same reaction about 9 times I quit trying to find them all and just went back for more free cookies.

Tldr; when I was little my teenage brothers were jerks and didn’t believe me when I told them I had gotten lost at sea. ( I hadn’t it was just a lake) eyo’shena means endless water, and shena usally means water or waters. except when you are talking about drinking water because that word is illet. The word Itova means infinite. itova’shena (infinite waters) or just Ja’itova would be used as word for outer space.

#story time #siblings #large family #language #lost at sea #not really tho #dumb kids #family gatherings #funny story #also not #really though #that one time #when #i got lost #at sea #but not really #so yea <3 #fun times #fun times <3

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sevi007 · 7 years ago

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Random thought, but when i was around 8 I lost my baby teeth and insisted on showing it off to the adults and making them touch my mouth when the adult molars came in, and now I'm thinking of peter doing it with the ravagers. Maybe some of them come from species with only one set of teeth and end up creeped out?

Oh, wait, this is perfect.

Like, I somewhere read that Xandarians are pretty similar to humans (?), though more endurable then them. So I figure that at least Kraglin would know what’s happening, and that it is pretty normal.

But the others? Krylerian, Centaurian, other species? I figure a lot of them wouldn’t understand that this is completely okay and normal, perhaps stemming from a species that has only one set of teeth (looking at how many of them have sliver caps over their teeth - that could be either because they lost their teeth as adults, or they already lost as children and they didn’t have baby teeth like humans.)

So when Peter suddeny runs up to the nearest Ravager, proudly holding up one of his baby teeth and showing off the gap, they are completely flabbergasted.

“Yo, boy, what’s happenin’ in yer mouth?!”

“I’m losing my baby teeth - look!”

“What the - I don’ wanna look at that, kid!”

And someone passing by chances a glance over and is like, “The heck - yo, who broke the Terran?! Are ye all outta yer damn minds?! Capt'n’s not gonna like that!”

“Ain’t us doin’ that, boy’s just losin’ teeth all of sudden!”

“Yeah, sure ‘e is, ye try'n explain that to Cap-…!”

“Explain what?”

Hushed silence falls over the group as they recognize the rough voice of their Captain. Only Peter turns, still bleeding a bit from his mouth (probably shouldn’t have ripped the tooth the rest of the way out when it was loose) and declares, “Yondu, look, I’m getting my adult teeth!”

Yondu stops, blinking down at the delighted child, and squints his eyes. “Quill, what’s with yer mouth?”

The Ravagers behind the boy shrink into themselves as Yondu’s gaze flickers over to them, murderous, but Peter rolls his eyes. “Yeesh, why are you all freaking out? I’m just losing my baby teeth! It’s normal!”

“…Ya tellin’ me that happens with all Terrans?”

“Yeah!… Wait, your teeth don’t fall out?”

Yondu shows off his teeth in a smirk, most of them glinting silver and gold. “Lookin’ like it?”

“Nah, just looking like you need a dentist…?” Peter trails off as Yondu’s eyes narrow. “Never mind, those are good teeth. Pretty teeth. Looking-super-healthy teeth.”

“Off with ya, go,” Yondu cuffs the boy over the head to shoo him away, not minding the muttering he gets for that.

“Terrans are weird,” Yondu later tells Kraglin when he explains to his smirking first mate what has happened.

“Capt'n, that whole teeth thing is normal for Xandarians, too.”

“Well, then yer weird, too.”

“Thanks, sir.”

Peter later shows his tooth off to Kraglin, explaining that he now will get money from the tooth fairy - though, will she find him in space, too? - and preens a bit when Kraglin assures him they would find a way for that fairy lady to find him and his tooth.

#ask #headcanon #anon #yondu udonta #kraglin obfonteri #peter quill #ravagers #ravagers as family #ravager family #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #guardians of the galaxy vol 2

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neemdental · 5 years ago

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Frequently Asked Questions

1. WHAT IS GUM DISEASE?

Gum disease(gingivitis) or periodontal disease is the number one cause of tooth loss today. The reason you lose teeth from gum disease is because this disease attacks the gums as well as the bone, which are the foundation in which your teeth rest. As the bone dissolves away from around your teeth, your teeth become loose and eventually fall out. Anyone, at any age, is susceptible to gum disease. Gum disease is caused by plaque. If the plague is not removed on a daily basis it will form calculus, which is the breeding ground for the germs which cause periodontal disease.

Bleeding gums are the first sign that there may be a problem with the gums. Puffy, tender red gums are also a sign that there is an infection present. Bleeding gums, however, are not always present even in severe cases of gum disease. Gum disease will not go away by itself or with improved home care. This is because the plaque has become cemented to your teeth like a hard calcium deposit. The only way of removing plaque deep under the gums is with professional cleanings. Routine and regular visits to your dentist are the best way of catching gum disease in its early stages, before too much damage has been caused.

2. HOW OFTEN SHOULD I GO TO MY DENTIST FOR A CHECK-UP?

Some people tend to have a rather strange attitude towards checkups. If the dentist does not find something wrong, their time has been wasted. As a matter of fact, a series of successful visits can discourage them from ever seeing their dentist and hygienist again. The idea that you should only see the dentist when something is wrong is not only ridiculous but can end up costing you a lot of money, comfort and time!

Your dentist is trained to detect and treat many problems before you are even aware of them. The goal is prevention - prevent disease, decay and tooth loss. Your dentist can help you but only if you make the appointment. It all comes back to teamwork. Only you, your dentist and your hygienist can determine how often to make a visit, but for most people, twice a year is sufficient. Checkups should not be a one-time event. They are necessary for regular assessments of the condition and the well being of your mouth. Check-up procedures vary with each dentist, but basically will contain: a review of dental and medical history, an overall examination of the mouth including oral cancer screening, a professional cleaning, possibly a fluoride treatment, and a general assessment of hygiene at home. Regular checkups are a MUST in the fight against gum disease.

3. I'M INTERESTED IN CHANGING THE SHAPE OF MY TEETH. WHAT OPTIONS ARE AVAILABLE?

Several different options are available to change the shape of teeth, make teeth look longer, close spaces between teeth or repair chipped or cracked teeth. Among the options are bonding, crowns, veneers, and re-contouring.

# Dental bonding is a procedure in which a tooth-colored resin material (a durable plastic material) is applied to the tooth surface and hardened with a special light, which ultimately "bonds" the material to the tooth.

# Dental crowns are tooth-shaped "caps" that are placed over teeth. The crowns, when cemented into place, fully encase the entire visible portion of a tooth that lies at and above the gum line.

# Veneers (also sometimes called porcelain veneers or dental porcelain laminates) are wafer-thin, custom-made shells of tooth-coloured materials that are designed to cover the front surface of teeth. These shells are bonded to the front of the teeth.

# Re-contouring or reshaping of the teeth (also called odontoplasty, enameloplasty, stripping, or slenderising) is a procedure in which small amounts of tooth enamel are removed to change a tooth's length, shape or surface.

Each of these options differ with regard to cost, durability, "chair time" necessary to complete the procedure, stain resistant qualities, and best cosmetic approach to resolving a specific problem. Talk to your dentist to see if one is right for you.

4. I AM AFRAID OF GOING TO THE DENTIST ... WHAT CAN I DO?

Fear of the dentist is quite common for many people. Neem Dental Clinic aware of the prevalence of dental anxiety and we are properly trained to work with you in helping you to overcome these fears.

You will find we are eager to work with you to make your visits comfortable and pleasant. Asking questions about your mouth and proposed treatment will help to remove fear of the unknown and give you an opportunity to become involved in your dental health. Most importantly, remember that your Neem Dental Clinic’s team is eager to work with you, not just on you, in order to achieve a mutual goal - maintaining the health of your smile.

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