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malewifegradyruewen · 3 years

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An Untitled Original Work, Part 7

Leo once more!! there’s a pattern if you can’t tell-

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trigger warnings: light swearing, some as name calling, ask to tag

word count: 1674

tagging: @fire-sapphics @artemiassamos @honorablescythecurie @love-pyramus @silver-war @pencilwritesshiz47 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @mermistahawk @dirty-racoon @tommyinnitt @enbies-and-felonies @sofia-not-sophie @imaramennoodle @littlemisscupcake @cadence-talle and lmk know if you wanna be added/removed!!

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Leo couldn’t understand what was going on. Why he’d been made to sit in the backseat, why Sammie had stood outside for almost two minutes after he’d gone in, why the car ride had just seemed… off.

Ever since Sammie’s arrival less than a week ago, Gina had seemed different. It wasn’t a bad different, per se, but it was a side of her that Leo had never seen before. He wasn’t sure if he was the only one who noticed, but he hoped he wasn’t.

As he sat down at the greasy table Andre had saved for them, he put his worries out of his mind. They didn’t matter now. Gina would be there, sure, but it wouldn’t just be her and Sammie. Mally and Andre were going to be there, so Leo wouldn’t be alone. Plus, he might be able to ask the other two if they’d noticed the shift in Gina’s personality as well.

“What’s fresh!” he said to Andre as Sammie joined them. “Gina’s just parking, she’ll be right in.”

“Not too much. I didn’t order yet, figured I’d wait for you guys.” He pulled out his phone. “Mally’s almost here. We can wait for her.”

“Hey, Andre.” Sammie’s voice was gentle and soft, a total shift from how she’d been in the car. To say Leo was confused was an understatement. Sure, Sammie was typically more subdued, but this total flip seemed unprecedented. Had something happened? Had he caused it?

His questions remained unanswered as the bells above the door jingled. Gina and Mally walked in together, Gina explaining, “We ran into each other in the parking lot across the street,” The newcomers sat down in two of the vacant wooden chairs. “You guys wanna go up and order?”

“Sure,” Leo and Andre stood up. Sammie, he noticed, stayed where she was, smiling at Mally. Although he desperately wanted to, he decided not to say anything of it, and instead headed up to the counter with Andre.

“Yo, what is up with girls?” he asked, glancing back at the table. “Did you notice anything?”

“What? Uh, no, I didn’t see anything,” Andre said as he dug through his wallet. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Huh.” There were a lot of words one could use to describe Andre, but Leo never would have included flustered on that list.

“Is something wrong?” Leo pressed.

Andre snapped his head up to look at Leo. “Oh, it’s fine. I was just looking for Susan.” He whipped out a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar. “I thought I lost her.”

The coin gleamed in the dim light of the shop. Andre had found it in a jar of coins at his house years ago, he’d told Leo, and he’d polished it up and put it in a separate pocket of his wallet. What seemed odd to Leo was that there was no way for Susan to get lost. The pocket had a small zipper, and it was separate from the change pocket. Andre’s dismissal made no sense, but Leo didn’t press more.

Everyone seemed off today, and Leo couldn’t understand why. Gina forcing him to sit in the back, Sammie’s mood shift, the likely lie Andre had told him. At least Mally seemed…as normal as she could get. Even across the cafe, Leo could hear her conversations above the quiet chatter of every table closer to him. Mally’s quiet was most people’s average. But what good did a normal Mally do if everyone else was acting strange?

Leo was so lost in thought that he wasn’t even sure he ordered, but by the time he rejoined reality he had a hot chocolate in his hands, indicating that he must have ordered. However, it wasn’t his drink status that brought him back, but instead someone snapping at him.

“Hey, blockhead. You in there?” Mally was snapping her fingers not two inches from his nose. “Yoo-hoo! Someone asked you a question!”

“Get outta my face,” he said as he swatted her hand away.

“No. Gina asked you a question, you dumbass. Answer her.”

“Uh, what was the question?”

“Oh my-”

“What did I do?” Leo cried, exasperated.

“Doesn’t matter!” Gina said as exasperatedly as Leo. “I said, are we doing anything after this? Or just hanging here?”

“I- uh, I’m not- I mean, why are you asking me?” he stammered. Pulling out his phone, he realised they’d been there almost an hour.

“Andre has work, and Sammie and I gotta get home soon. We weren’t planning on doing anything else, were we?” The annoyance in Gina’s tone couldn’t match the anger and frustration that was apparent in her eyes. Last night when they were texting, she had suggested they go downtown after getting coffee, but Leo decided it was best if he didn’t bring it up.

“No, this was it. If you guys have to go, then go.” He wasn’t sure what had happened, but as Gina, Sammie, and Andre said their goodbyes, he stayed seated.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked Mally after a moment. “Gina’s acting weird, Sammie’s acting strange, Andre brushed me off with what I think was a lie? I don’t get it.”

She took a drink of her nearly-empty water bottle and sighed. “You just don’t get it at all, do you?” The corners of her mouth had turned up into a small smile. “I knew you were oblivious, but this is a new level.”

Mally turned her head just enough that she was facing Leo. “Can you connect the dots yourself, or do you need me to hold your hand?”

Leo wasn’t sure what expression his face had, but clearly, it was a look of confusion, because Mally just sighed again.

“Of course you need me to walk you through all of it.” She paused for a long moment before saying, “Gina has a crush on Sammie, and it’s painfully obvious. Sammie has a crush on Gina, but it’s not as evident. There’s some other stuff going on with Sammie that I shouldn’t get into, but whatever. If you just watch them for a minute, the body language of those two, plus the way they act? Please. It’s obvious.”

Leo sat in stunned silence. That was why Gina had been acting strange? And Sammie…he had to admit that something had seemed a bit off about her too.

“So wait, Gina and Sammie like each other?” He remembered that Gina had said something about that once, liking boys and girls, but it still didn’t make sense to Leo. Besides, she’d said it in middle school, and it hadn’t mattered then. A lot of people were dating, but not Gina or Leo. It was still the same old Gina, and he was still the same old Leo. It had never resurfaced until… now, apparently.

“Yeah, that can happen.” Mally looked at him very pointedly. “You do know I’m a lesbian, right? And I dunno about Sammie, but she seems like one too. Gina’s bisexual, which is… without getting into the complicated discussion about transphobia, it basically means she is attracted to both boys and girls. It’s a bit more in-depth than that, but that’s an extremely watered-down definition.”

“Wait- you’re a lesbian?” He knew that wasn’t what he should be focusing on, but the words escaped his lips before he could stop them.

“I literally told you guys that in fall of freshman year,” she deadpanned. “But that’s not what the issue is right now. Right now it’s about Sammie and Gina. They’re smitten with each other and neither one seems to notice that the other clearly is as well. It’s embarrassing, really.”

“Uh, yeah,” Leo said. “Right- they need to, uh, hang out? Or go on a date? I’m not sure?”

“They need to hang out, yes, but they’re doing that right now. Gina gave you a ride over, right? She left you here with no way home. The pair of ‘em were going to Gina’s, I think. I’m gonna see if I can push them along, maybe, but your best bet is just to not say anything about a relationship. At all. It’ll backfire, trust me.”

Mally’s stoicism had quickly turned to enthusiasm, and she seemed almost breathless. Leo wasn’t sure how he was meant to interpret all of this. “So just...don’t say anything?”

“Yeah, that’s it. By the way, do you need a ride home? Gina kinda dipped without you.”

“Oh, yeah, that would be great. And uh, what was Andre acting all weird?” he asked as he stood up and started gathering the trash left on the table.

“He was? I didn’t notice,” Mally replied as she grabbed her lanyard off the table. “Here, put the garbage in this empty cup, we’ll toss it when we leave.”

“Nuh-uh,” he said. “Don’t brush me off. What’s up?”

“Nothing! Really!” She avoided his gaze, turning to stack up the napkins they hadn’t used.

“That’s bullshit. What is going on?” When she further averted her gaze, he became upset. What was so important that she couldn’t give him a straight answer?

“Mallory Lemmon, you tell me right now.”

“I can’t!” she cried. “He made me promise. He’ll tell you if he wants to. Now, do you want a ride or not?”

Leo took a step back. It wasn’t often that Mally acted like this, so it stood to reason that maybe something really was wrong with Andre. Then again, he knew he couldn’t press more, or he’d lose his ride home.

“Yeah, a ride would be great. Let’s go,” he said, already heading towards the door. He tossed the garbage as he left the building, and stood in the same spot Sammie had barely an hour and a half before. He’d thought it was strange, but now he knew; to stop and stand is to think, to mull over the events that have happened, or will be. Leo knew what had happened, but not what would come. All he knew was that he needed to hope for the best.

#jojo’s shitty writing #auow #an untitled original work #untitled

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 9

(Y/n)'s POV

It doesn't take me long to pack. I decide to leave the Minotaur horn in the cabin, which leaves me only an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush to stuff in a backpack Grover had found for me.

The camp store loans me one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. The coins are as big as Girl Scout cookies and have images of various Greek Gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, Chiron had told us, but Olympins never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in for non-mortal transactions - whatever that might mean. He gives Annabeth, Percy, and me canteens of nectar and Ziploc bags full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It is god food, Chiron reminds us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it is lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally, Fun.

Annabeth is bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she tells me had been a twelfth-birthday present from her mom. She is also bringing a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she gets bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve. I'm sure the knife is going to get us busted the first time we go through a metal detector.

Grover is wearing his fake feet and his pants to pass as a human. He wears a green rasta-style cap, because when it rains his curly hair flattened and you can just see the tips of his horns. Grover's bright orange backpack is full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket is a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knows two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto Number 12 and Hilary Duff's 'So Yesterday,' both of which sound pretty bad on reed pipes.

We wave good-bye to the other campers, take one last look at eh strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House, then hike up the Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, the Daughter of Zeus.

Chiron is waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stands the surfer dude I'd seen when I was recovering in the sick room. According to Grover, the guy is the camp's head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he's wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I can only see the extra eyes on his hands, face, and neck.

"This is Argus," Chiron tells me. "He'll drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."

I hear footsteps behind us.

Luke comes running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes. "Hey!" he pants. "Glad I caught you."

Annabeth blushes, the way she always does when Luke is around.

"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke tells us. "And I thought . . . um, maybe you could use these."

He hands Percy a pair of sneakers, which look pretty normal.

Then, Luke says, "Maia!"

White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels. The shoes flap around on the ground until the wings fold up and disappear.

"Awesome!" Grover exclaims.

Luke smiles. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days...." His expression turns sad.

Annabeth stomps down the other side of the hill, after arguing with Percy, where a white SUV waits on the shoulder of the road. Argus follows, jingling his car kees.

Percy picks up the flying shoes and then looks up at Chiron. "I won't be able to use these, will I?"

Chiron shakes his head. "Luke meant well, Percy. But taking to the air...that would not be wise for you."

I nod, getting an idea, "Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?"

His eyes light up. "Me?"

Pretty soon, we'd laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world's first flying goat boy is ready for launch.

"Maia!" Grover shouts. He gets off the ground, okay, but then falls over sideways so his backpack drags through the grass. The winged shoes keep bucking up and down like tiny broncos.

"Practice," Chiron calls after him. "You just need practice."

"Aaaaa!" Grover goes flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawnmower, heading towards the can.

But before I can follow, Chiron catches my arm. "I should have trained you two better, Percy, (Y/n)," he says. "If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason - they all got more training."

"That's okay. I just -" I stop myself.

"What am I thinking?" Chiron cries. "I can't let the two of you get away without these." He pulls two pens out of his coat pocket and hands one to me and one to Percy.

Looking down at it, I see a teal-colored gel pen. Maybe cost thirty cents.

"Gee," Percy says. "Thanks."

"Percy, those are gifts from your father. I've been keeping them for years, not knowing you two were the ones I was waiting for. But the prophecy is clear to me now. You two are the ones."

Instinctively I take off the cap, and the pen grows longer and heavier in my hand. In half a second, I am holding a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a teal and silver leather-wrapped grip. This is the first weapon that feels balanced in my hand.

"That sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron tells Percy. "Its name is Anaklusmos."

"Riptide," Percy translates.

"I have never seen anyone use that sword that I'm aware of," Chiron says, turning to me. "Yours is named Τυφώνας."

"Hurricane," I translate, surprised that the Ancient Greek came so easily to me.

"Use them only for emergencies," Chiron says, "and only against monsters. No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but neither sword would hurt them in any case."

I look down at the wickedly sharp blade. "What do you mean it wouldn't harm mortals? How could it not?"

"Those swords are celestial bronze. Forged by the Cyclopes, tempered in the heart of Mount Etna, cooled in the River Lethe. It's deadly to monsters, to any creature from the Underworld, provided they don't kill you first. But the blades will pass through morals like an illusion. They simply are not important for the blade to kill. And I should warn you two: as demigods, you can be killed by either celestial or normal weapons. You are twice as vulnerable."

"Good to know," Percy says.

"Now recap the pens," Chiron says.

Percy and I touch the pen cap to the sword tips and instantly Riptide and Hurricane shrink to ballpoint pens again. I tuck it in my pocket, a little nervous because it's pretty easy to lose a pen.

"You can't," Chiron says.

"Can't what?" I ask, slightly confused.

"Lose the pens," he says. "They're enchanted. They'll always reappear in your pockets. Try it."

Warily, I throw the pen as far as I can down the hill and watch it disappear in the grass.

"It may take a few moments," Chiron tells us. "Now check your pocket."

Sure enough, the pen is there.

"Okay, that is extremely cool," I admit.

"But what if a mortal sees one of us pulling out a sword?" Percy asks.

Chiron smiles. "Mist is a powerful thing, Percy."

"Mist?" I ask.

"Yes. Read The Iliad. It's full of references to the stuff. Whatever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go fit things into their version of reality.

I put Hurricane back into my pocket.

For the first time, the quest feels real. I'm leaving Half-Blood Hill. I'm heading west with no adult supervision, no backup plan, not even a cell phone - Chiron said cell phones were traceable by monsters; if we used one, it would be no worse than sending up a flare. I have no weapon stronger than a sword to fight off monsters and reach the Land of the Dead.

"Chiron . . ." Percy says. "When you say the gods are immortal . . . I mean, there was a time before them, right?"

"Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age."

"So what was it like...before the gods?"

Chiron purses his lips. "Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually, the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born."

"But the gods can't die now, right? I mean, as long as Western civilization is alive, they're alive. So...even if I failed, nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?" I ask, feeling rather uncertain.

Chiron gives me a melancholy smile. "No one knows how long the Age of the West will last, (Y/n). The gods are immortal, yes. But then, so were the Titans. They still exist, locked away in their various prisons, forced to endure endless pain and punishment, reduced in power, but still very much alive. May the Fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom, or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny."

"Our destiny...assuming we know what that is," I say grimly.

"Relax," Chiron tells me. "Keep a clear head. And remember, the two of you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history."

"Relax," I say. "I'm very relaxed."

When Percy and I get to the bottom of the hill, I look back. Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus, Chiron is now standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur."

Argus drives us out of the countryside and into western Long Island, It feels weird to be on a highway again, Annabeth and Grover sitting next to me, Percy on the other side of Grover, as if we were normal carpoolers. After two weeks at Half-Blood Hill, the real world seems like a fantasy. I find myself staring at every McDonald's, every kid in the back of his parent's car, every billboard and shopping mall.

"So far so good," Percy tells Annabeth. "Ten miles and not a single monster."

She gives Percy an irritated loo. "It's bad luck to talk that way."

"Remind me again - why do you hate us so much?" Percy asks.

"I don't hate you two."

"Could've fooled me."

Annabeth folds her cap of invisibility. "Look...we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals."

"Why?" Percy asks.

Annabeth sighs. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her."

"They must really like olives," Percy comments, and I stifle a snort of laughter.

"Oh, forget it," Annabeth grumbles.

"Now, if she invented pizza - that I could understand," I add, in a slightly teasing tone.

"I said, forget it!" Annabeth says, hitting me lightly on the arm.

In the front seat, Argus smiles. He doesn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winks at me.

Traffic slows down in Queens. By the time we get into Manhattan, it is sunset and starting to rain.

Argus drops us at the greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, not far from my mom and Gabe's apartment. Taped to a mailbox is a soggy flyer with mine and Percy's picture on it: Have you seen these children?

Percy rips it down before Annabeth and Grover can notice.

Argus unloads our bags, makes sure we get our bus tickets, then drives away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulls out of the parking lot.

I think about how close I am to the apartment. On a normal day, Mom would be home from the candy store by now. Smelly Gabe is probably up there right now, playing poker, not even missing her.

Grover shoulders his backpack. He gazes down the street in the direction I am looking. "You want to know why she married him, (Y/n)?"

I stare at him. "Were you reading my mind?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Just your emotions," Grover shrugs. "You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?"

I nod.

"Your mom married Gabe for you and Percy," Grover tells me. "You call him 'Smelly,' but you've got no idea. This guy has this aura . . . Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him o you, and you haven't been near him in a week."

"Thanks," Percy grimaces from Grover's other side. "Where's the nearest shower?"

"You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy—if that makes you feel any better."

I soften, looking down a the ground. I'll see her again, I think. She isn't gone.

You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend, the Oracle whispers in my mind. You will fail to save what matters most in the end.

The rain keeps coming down.

We get restless waiting for the bus and decide to play some Hacky Sack with one of Groer's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable at it. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever. Percy wasn't too bad either, but I found that I wasn't that great at it.

The game ends when I toss the apple towards Grover and it gets too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappears - core, stem, and all.

Grover blushes. He tries to apologize, but Annabeth, Percy, and I are too busy cracking up.

Finally, the bus comes.

I am relieved when we finally get on board and find seats together in the back of the bus, Me and Annabeth in one row, and Percy and Grover across from us. The four of us stow our backpacks.

I glance over at Annabeth beside me, who keeps slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh.

As the last passengers get on, Annabeth claps her hand onto my knee. "Look!"

An old lady had just boarded the bus. She is wearing a crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves, and a shapeless orange-knit hat that shadows her face and she is carrying a big paisley purse. When she tilts her head up, her black eyes glitter.

I see Percy slump down in his seat.

Behind her comes two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise, they look exactly like Mrs. Dodds - same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dress. Triple demon grandmothers.

They sit in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle cross their legs over the walkway, making an X. It is casual enough, but it sends a clear message: Nobody leaves.

The bus pulls out of the station, and we head through the slick streets of Manhattan.

"She didn't stay dead long," Percy says, his voice quavering a little. "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."

"I said if you're lucky," Annabeth murmurs. "You're obviously not."

"All three of them," Grover whimpers. "Di immortales!"

"It's okay," Annabeth says, obviously thinking hard. "The Furies. The worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moans.

"A back exit?" she suggests.

There isn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we are on Ninth Avenue heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

"They won't attack us with witnesses around," I say. "Will they?"

"Mortals don't have good eyes," Annabeth reminds me. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist."

"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?" Percy asks.

She thinks about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof . . . ?"

We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus goes dark except for the running lights down teh aisle. It is eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.

"I need to use the rest-room."

"So do I."

All three demons start coming down the aisle.

"I've got it," Annabeth says. "Percy, take my hat."

"What?" he says with disbelief.

"You're the one they want. You killed one of them. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away."

"But you guys -"

"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Annabeth says as she glances over at me. "You're a son of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering."

"I can't just leave you," Percy says, looking desperately at me.

"Go," I say, frowning and Annabeth hands him the cap.

The old ladies are not old ladies anymore. Their faces are still the same - I guessed they couldn't get any uglier - but their bodies had shriveled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws; their handbags had turned into fiery whips.

The Furies surround me, Grover, and Annabeth, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?"

The other people on the bus are screaming, cowering in their seats. They see something, all right.

"He's not here!" Annabeth yells. "He's gone!"

The Furies raise their whips.

Annabeth draws her bronze knife. Grover grabs a tin can from his snack bag and prepares to throw it.

Word Count: 3222 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson reader insert #female reader #reader insert #fem reader

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kookie-doughs · 4 years

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 10: The Wheels On The Bus Goes Skrt Skrt Skrt

It didn't take me long to pack. I didn't have anything at all, which left me only an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush to stuff in a backpack Grover had found for me and Percy. Both having nothing to carry we decided to share a bag. The camp store loaned us one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. These coins were as big as Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, Chiron told us, but Olympians never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in handy for non-mortal transactions—whatever that meant. He gave Annabeth, Percy and I each a canteen of nectar and a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It was god food, Chiron reminded us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it was lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally. Annabeth was bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she told us had been a twelfth-birthday present from her mom. She carried a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she got bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve. I was sure the knife would get us busted the first time we went through a metal detector. Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes. We waved good-bye to the other campees, took one last look at the strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House, then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus. Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stood a surfer looking dude. According to Grover, the guy was the camp's head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he was wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands, face and neck. "This is Argus," Chiron told us. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things." I heard footsteps behind us. Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes. "Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you." Annabeth blushed, the way she always did when Luke was around. I looked at him with a frown. "Don't look at me like that. I had to find out from the others you're going on a quest." he glared. "So much for the option you won't die at." "I would've told you if you were at the cabin when I got back. Now what's with the shoes?" "Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told Percy. "And I thought... um, maybe you could use these." He handed him the sneakers, which looked pretty normal. They even smelled kind of normal. Luke said, "Maia!" White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels, startling me so much, Percy dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared. "Awesome!" Grover said. Luke smiled. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days...." His expression turned sad. I didn't know what to say. It was cool enough that Luke had come to say good-bye. But here he was giving Percy a magic gift.... It made me a bit jealous. "Hey, man," Percy said. "Thanks." "Listen, Percy..." Luke looked uncomfortable. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just... kill some monsters for me, okay?" They shook hands. Luke patted Grover's head between his horns, then gave a good-bye hug to Annabeth, who looked like she might pass out. The three went to Chiron about stuffs while Luke and I had a staring contest. "So Percy got a present and I only get an I don't know... a hug? Here I thought I was your favorite." "What made you think you are?" He laughed and ruffled my hair. "And no you don't get a hug." "Suddenly I'm not coming back." He smiled and from his back he pulled out a sheathed knife. "I meant to say you won't get only a hug. I noticed you're not a fan of swords. So, I made this my self. I am no Hephaestus child but hey..." He handed me the knife. The sheath was plain colored with a metal chap and locket, it had chains attached to the locket where I could probably put it on something to make sure I bring it with me. Pulling the knife out of the sheath, its knife was around 15 inches. On the blade, Ancient Greek was engraved on it. I think it's my name and the other side is his. "What is this?" I grinned. "I don't know. I ran out of good ideas! I swear I looked up some of Plato and Socrates for that." "And you settled for that?" I laughed. "I am going to take that back now." "Hey, that doesn't mean I don't like it. Thanks." "It's celestial bronze... Half of it at least." "Half?" "I'm sure Chiron won't appreciate it. It will harm both us and humans." "So... It'll hurt both side?" "Yup. And I'm not sure but according to a Hephaestus kid but it's supposed to glow when its near something." "Its not glowing now." "We never said no backsies. I'd like it back now." "I'll take good care of..." I stopped to think of a name and almost immediately remembered a perfect one, "Sting." "I would ask but I already know." Luke shook his head. "Be careful with Sting. It---" "He. Sting is a he, thank you very much." "HE, is lethal. He it can kill us, others close to our kind and normal humans." "Oops I accidentally stabbed myself." With a worried look he pulled me in a hug, "And whatever happens. Put your safety above all. No need to be the hero. If you die in this quest I will get the lord of the dead revive you or kill me." "Ew how sentimental." "Be careful... okay? All of you. Promise me that." "Fine, I promise. On the knife, I'll come back not dead, with everyone." After Luke was gone, I placed the knife on my waist. I went back to Percy. "Okay, that's extremely cool," I heard him say. "What's cool?" I grinned standing behind Percy overlooking his shoulder. "My new pen." He showed me his pen and uncapped it only to show a sword. "I can't loose it no matter what! Its called Riptide." "But what if a mortal sees you pulling out a sword?" Chiron smiled. "Mist is a powerful thing, Y/N." "Mist?" "I just keep hearing that over and over can someone finally explain?" "Yes. Read The Iliad. It's full of references to the stuff. Whenever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go to fit things into their version of reality." Percy put Riptide back in his pocket. For the first time, the quest felt real. We was actually leaving Half-Blood Hill. We was heading west with no adult supervision, no backup plan, not even a cell phone. (Chiron said cell phones were traceable by monsters; if we used one, it would be worse than sending up a flare.) I had no weapon stronger than a knife to fight off monsters and reach the Land of the Dead. "Chiron..." I said. "When you say the gods are immortal... I mean, there was a time before them, right?" "Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age." "So what was it like... before the gods?" Chiron pursed his lips. "Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born." "But the gods can't die now, right? I mean, as long as Western civilization is alive, they're alive. So... even if I failed, nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?" Chiron gave us a melancholy smile. "No one knows how long the Age of the West will last, Percy. The gods are immortal, yes. But then, so were the Titans. They still exist, locked away in their various prisons, forced to endure endless pain and punishment, reduced in power, but still very much alive. May the Fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom, or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny." "Our destiny... assuming we know what that is." "Relax," Chiron told me. "Keep a clear head. And remember, you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history." "Relax," Percy said. "I'm very relaxed." When we got to the bottom of the hill, I looked back. Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus, Chiron was now standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur. I took Percy's hand and we gave each other a reassuring nod. I wish us luck. Talking whilst at camp drained me. I apologize if I won't be much help. You have stamina? So you aren't a bigshot all powerful god? Without you and I as one. I am nothing. I have given you my everything.

Argus drove us out of the countryside and into western Long Island. It felt weird to be on a highway again, Annabeth and Percy was sitting next to me as if we were normal carpoolers. After two weeks at Half-Blood Hill, the real world seemed like a fantasy. I found myself staring at every McDonald's, every kid in the back of his parents' car, every billboard and shopping mall. "So far so good," Percy said. "Ten miles and not a single monster." She gave him an irritated look. "It's bad luck to talk that way, seaweed brain." "Remind me again—why do you hate me so much?" "I don't hate you." "Could've fooled me." She folded her cap of invisibility. "Look... we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals." "Why?" She sighed. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her." "They must really like olives." I interjected. "Not you too! You know what? Forget it." "Now, if she'd invented pizza—that I could understand." "I said, forget it!" In the front seat, Argus smiled. He didn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winked at me. Traffic slowed us down in Queens. By the time we got into Manhattan it was sunset and starting to rain. Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, Percy and I didn't let go. Taped to a mailbox was a soggy flyer with Percy's picture on it: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? He ripped it down before Annabeth and Grover could notice. "They could've at least gotten a better picture." I smirked which caused him to roll his eyes. Argus unloaded our bags, made sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot. Grover shouldered his backpack. He gazed down the street in the direction Percy was looking. "You want to know why she married him, Percy?" I stared at Percy then at Grover. "Were you reading my mind or something?" "Just your emotions." He shrugged. "Guess I forgot to tell you satyrs can do that. You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?" Percy nodded. I missed my parents of course, but I had Luke and Grover to talk to which made me less lonely. Percy became an outcast when we got to camp and had no one to talk to. I squeezed his hand and gave him a smile. "Your mom married Gabe for you," Grover told him. "You call him 'Smelly,' but you've got no idea. The guy has this aura.... Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him on you, and you haven't been near him for a week." "Thanks," Percy said. "Where's the nearest shower?" "You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy—if that makes you feel any better." I knew what Percy was thinking. He was thinking of the fact we'll get his mom and my parents. How we'll save them all. We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever. I wasn't too bad myself. The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared—core, stem, and all. Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but we were too busy cracking up. Percy pulled me to a corner, after excusing ourselves for a bathroom break. "You finally going to tell me about this quest?" "The truth is," He started. "I don't care about retrieving Zeus's lightning bolt, or saving the world, or even helping my father out of trouble." I gave him a look that reassured him to continue. "The more I thought about it, I resented my father for never visiting me, never helping my mom, never even sending a lousy child-support check. He'd only claimed me because he needed a job done. All I cared about was you and my mom. The underworld god had taken her unfairly, and he is going to give her back." "Percy, we don't even know what's going on. Yeah, he might have her. But what is there's another reason? We don't exactly know anything. I don't even think my parents are with him." "Well, no matter where they are. We will get them back. The least I could do is get them back." He rested his head on my shoulder. "Don't "You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend," "What?" I froze. "Percy... I would never---" "You will fail to save what matters most in the end." "What are you talking about?" The rain kept coming down. "The rest of the prophecy. Y/N, I don't want you to betray me. Please... don't." I could hear his voice breaking. "Of course I won't. We'll get this quest done. We won't loose anyone and we'll get our parents. Don't worry." I hugged him. "I will stay with you. I won't leave and I won't betray you." "Hey Bonnie and Clyde, we need to go." Finally the bus came. As we stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air. "What is it?" I asked. "I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing." But I could tell it wasn't nothing. I took Percy's hand and started looking over my shoulder, too. I was relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. We stowed our backpacks. Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh. As the last passengers got on, I immediately clamped my hand onto Percy's knee. "Percy." It was Mrs. Dodds. Older, more withered, but definitely the same evil face. I scrunched down in my seat. Behind her came two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise they looked exactly like Mrs. Dodds—same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dresses. Triplet demon grandmothers. And I was now sure, Mrs. Rudolph was one of them. They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves. The bus pulled out of the station, and we headed through the slick streets of Manhattan. "She didn't stay dead long," Percy said, "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime." "I said if you're lucky," Annabeth said. "You're obviously not." "All three of them," Grover whimpered. "Di immortales!" "Who knows maybe they just want to play?" I said nervously. Annabeth gave me a look of irritation, "Not now," she said, obviously thinking hard. "The Furies. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows." "They don't open," Grover moaned. "A back exit?" she suggested. There wasn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we were on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel. "Maybe a nice chat would help?" "They won't attack us with witnesses around," Percy said. "Will they?" "Mortals don't have good eyes," Annabeth reminded him. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist." "They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?" She thought about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof... ?" We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain. Mrs. Dodds got up. In a flat voice, as if she'd rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the rest-room." "So do I," said the second sister. "So do I," said the third sister. They all started coming down the aisle. "I've got it," Annabeth said. "Percy, take my hat." "What?" "You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away." "But you guys—" "There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Annabeth said. "You're a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering." "I can't just leave Y-- you guys!" "Don't worry about us," I assured him. "Go!" His hands were trembling. But I took the Yankees cap and put it on. And he simply vanished. Mrs. Dodds stopped, sniffing, and looked straight at a spot. My heart was pounding. Apparently she didn't see anything. She and her sisters kept going. "Maybe if they approach us, I could try talking? I really was Mrs. Rudolph's favorite..." I stammered. "Yeah stage is yours." Annabeth answered. The old ladies were not old ladies anymore. Their faces were still the same—I guess those couldn't get any uglier— but their bodies had shriveled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws. Their handbags had turned into fiery whips. The Furies surrounded us, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?" The other people on the bus were screaming, cowering in their seats. They saw something, all right. "He's not here!" Annabeth yelled. "He's gone!" The Furies raised their whips. "Don't!" I stepped in front of them shaking. "H-Hi Mrs. Rudolph. W-What could you need?" Annabeth drew her bronze knife. Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag and prepared to throw it. To our surprise the bus jerked to the right. Everybody howled as we were thrown to the right, and I heard what I hoped was the sound of three Furies smashing against the windows. "Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey—whoa!" The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind us. We careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and monsters tossed around the bus, cars plowed aside like bowling pins. Somehow the driver found an exit. We shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing right across the river from New York. There were woods to our left, the Hudson River to our right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river. The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees. The emergency lights came on. The door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out, the passengers yelling as they stampeded after him. The Furies regained their balance. They lashed their whips at Annabeth while she waved her knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Grover threw tin cans. It was as if I didn't exist which was kinda offensive. "Hey! I'm also here!" I yelled pulling out my now glowing knife and helped Grover. "Hey!" A voice from the door way echoed. "Percy you idiot! Run!" I yelled. The Furies turned, baring their yellow fangs at him. Mrs. Dodds stalked up the aisle. Every time she flicked her whip, red flames danced along the barbed leather. Her two ugly sisters hopped on top of the seats on either side of her and crawled toward him like huge nasty lizards. I don't know how but I managed to parkour my way to avoid them and get to Percy in no trouble. I raised my knife and stood in between of them. "Perseus Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said, in an accent that was definitely from somewhere farther south than Georgia. "You have offended the gods. You shall die. I suggest you step away from him Y/N L/N." "I liked you better as a math teacher," he told her. She growled. Annabeth and Grover moved up behind the Furies cautiously, looking for an opening. Percy took the ballpoint pen out of his pocket and uncapped it. Riptide elongated into a shimmering double-edged sword. The Furies hesitated. Mrs. Dodds had felt Riptide's blade before. She obviously didn't like seeing it again. "Submit now," she hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment." "Nice try," I told her. "Percy, look out!" Annabeth cried. Mrs. Dodds lashed her whip around my sword hand while the Furies on the either side lunged at him. I managed to keep one of them and parried with her using my knife., which turned out to be Mrs. Rudolph. "I hate to admit it but you were my favorite teacher. Why go mean now?!" I struck with the hilt of my knife against her, sending her toppling backward into a seat. I turned to see Percy had sliced the Fury on his right. As soon as the blade connected with her neck, she screamed and exploded into dust. Annabeth got Mrs. Dodds in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands. "Ow!" he yelled. "Ow! Hot! Hot!" Mrs. Rudolph came at me again, talons ready, but I dove in and got in range to swing Sting at her and she broke open like a piñata. Mrs. Dodds was trying to get Annabeth off her back. She kicked, clawed, hissed and bit, but Annabeth held on while Grover got Mrs. Dodds's legs tied up in her own whip. Finally they both shoved her backward into the aisle. Mrs. Dodds tried to get up, but she didn't have room to flap her bat wings, so she kept falling down. "Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!" "Braccas meas vescimini!" Percy yelled. I wasn't sure where the Latin came from. I think it meant "Eat my pants!" Thunder shook the bus. The hair rose on the back of my neck. "Get out!" Annabeth yelled at us. "Now!" I didn't need any encouragement. Taking Percy's hand, we rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist with a camera snapped my photograph before I could recap my sword. "Our bags!" Grover realized. "We left our—" BOOOOOM! The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Mrs. Dodds was not yet dead. "Run!" Annabeth said. "She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!" We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us, and nothing but darkness ahead.

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UwU Haha this is what the knife looks like since I'm not sure if I describe it that well... Omg I just realized my brother changed the chapter title lmao -kookie-doughs

Just imagine it has your name on the blade.

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Lightning thief #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #pjo #X Reader #Book 1 #Chapter 10 #Fanfiction #fanfictions

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thegoodgayshit · 4 years

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Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirty-One: The Underworld and It’s Airport Security

She woke up in the lobby of a doctor’s office.

At least, that’s what it looked like. It was eerily quiet, with those plastic chairs with the huge armrests and people milling about. Some were sitting in chairs, a few standing near the bulletin board on the back wall. She saw a woman in a red coat, a man in a tie checking his watch, and a little boy holding a five dollar bill tightly in his hand. They just looked like perfectly normal mortals. Nothing out of the usual, but something about them put Luz on edge. She couldn’t place why.

There was no line for the receptionist, which Luz found odd.

She took a deep breath, and inhaled stale air, trying to remember what had just happened.

The portal. Saving Amity. Dad…

She still had Aletheia, which was resting on her finger. Luz checked her pockets. In her right was Hestia’s flame/lighter, and she ran her thumb over protectively. It was hers to carry from now on. In her other pocket, the one Hermes had been fiddling with, was a huge gold coin, with a circumference almost the size of her thumb, embezzled with the symbol of the Caduceus. She had no idea what she was going to do with that. Maybe it was an advance on a birthday gift?

In her back pocket, she pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, and when she opened it, her eyes widened. It was a circle with a line in the middle, and three flames above each section. Alador had given this to her. He’d said that Hestia was the balance between worlds.

Maybe if she ever saw him again, she’d have to tell him he’d been right. But based on her last interaction with Amity’s parents went, she doubted she’d be welcome back to the Blight manor.

“Next!”

Luz jumped. Somebody behind the receptionist counter was waving for her impatiently, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was stepping forward.

The man behind the counter was… even more off-putting than the people in the lobby. He was wearing a very expensive-looking Italian suit, and he had dark hair that was slicked back. When she walked up, he was tapping his foot, like Luz should have known to walk up quicker.

“Name?”

Luz paused. Should she reveal that? She had no idea where she was. But the tapping of his foot increased the longer she hesitated, so she just threw caution to the wind.

“Luz Noceda.”

He looked down at a paper in his hand, frowning. “I don’t see you on our list. What was your cause of death?”

“Cause of death?”

He looked up and his lips thinned. She got the feeling people asked that one a lot.

“Cause of death. I hate to break it to you, but if you’re here, it’s because you're dead. If you can’t remember how you died, and I know some mortals like to block that out, could you at least tell me where you were at your time of death?”

So that’s where she was. Some kind of in-between world between living and dying. Now that she looked back at the other patrons in the lobby, Luz was kicking herself for not picking up on it sooner. All the patients in the room were sickly pale and seemed to have a shimmer to them that she now recognized as the reason Luz had been so thrown off. They were all dead, and waiting for their turn to move on.

But was she dead too?

Luz had been fairly certain Hermes hadn’t killed her, but if she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t really remember how she’d gotten here.

She didn’t feel dead, but she took stock just to be safe. Her heart was still beating. She was still gross and exhausted from the battle on Mount Pelion. She was sweating. All good signs of being alive.

“I’m not dead. I mean, I don’t think I am.”

The man rolled his eyes, eyeing her up and down. “Look I deal with a lot of mortals like you-“ He suddenly stopped, his eyes widening the longer he looked at her. Luz figured he finally picked up on the fact that she wasn’t, in fact, dead. The surprise left his face, and it shifted back to one of disinterest.

“I can’t help you.”

“What do you mean, you can't help me?” Luz asked, peering over at the name tag on the counter. “Charon?”

His eyebrows lifted, and despite his blank face, Luz had a feeling he was pleased. “You got my name right. Most people think I have the same name as that gods forsaken horse… look, kid. You’re at the entrance to the Underworld. I don’t know exactly how or why you’re here, seeing as you’re dead, but I can’t let any of the living past this point. Policy rules and all.”

Luz frowned. What was she going to do now? Hermes hadn’t given her any kind of instruction on what to do when she got here, or where she’d even go. But she couldn’t just leave.

She wracked her brain, trying to think of everything she knew about the Greek Underworld. There was the king, the god Hades, and his wife Persephone… Charon was a familiar name, but she just couldn’t place where she’d heard it…

Then, she turned and saw that the little boy had gotten in line, the five dollar bill still clenched tightly in his hand. It clicked.

“You’re the ferryman to the Underworld.”

He nodded. “Yes indeed. And I’m on strict orders to only take the dead across the River Styx. So, I'm sorry, but you'll have to come back when you’re dead.”

“I can pay you.”

Charon hesitated, his eyes narrowing. “With what?”

“I’m not here for myself,” Luz said, finally understanding what Hermes had done. “I’m a daughter of Hermes, here on behalf of the Olympians on official business. I need to be on your next boat.”

She took out the coin, placing it confidently on the table. Charon’s eyes widened.

For a second, Luz thought he might refuse her, and she froze. She'd never even considered that Charon might not like her father or any of the other Olympians. But then, looking quickly around the room, he swiped the coin, standing up with a tight smile.

“Of course, daughter of Hermes. We’ll leave right away.”

Luz paused, turning to look at the little boy who was still waiting patiently for his turn. “Make sure you check him in too.”

Charon grimaced, but shrugged, waving him forward. The boy walked up and stood next to Luz, dropping the five in Charon’s hands. It was bright blue and plastic-looking. Canadian money.

“Name?”

“I'm Cooper!”

He huffed. “Well, we only have one of those on the list today. All right, come on then, follow closely behind this Hermes kid.” Then, under his breath, so low that Luz almost missed it, “Hades knows I don’t want that god on my bad side again.”

Charon led Luz and Cooper out of the lobby and into an elevator. Horrible 80’s music was playing when the doors finally opened, and Luz got smacked with an entirely new sight.

The Underworld.

Luz had seen it in her dreams a few times through the portal, and it was just as bleak and as terrifying as she remembered it being. The air was stale, and probably didn’t smell that great, but Luz had gotten used to Death Mist, so this was nothing. They were on a dock, coated in rotting wood and Charon led them onto a gondola with a few other souls, batting extras away as he started to push it off into a dark black river. The Styx.

When Amity had sworn she’d free Hestia, she swore on this river. Luz wondered if she’d still have fallen off the mountain if she’d been the one to cut the chains instead of her.

She looked back toward Charon and recoiled, almost falling into the water from her shock. Instead of a suit, he now wore a thick black robe. His face was sunken and skeletal like he'd been dead for several days.

Charon started to push the boat down the black river. The boat rocked, and Luz quickly sat down, her heart hammering in her chest. She was really here, and it was terrifying. She wished she wasn't alone. Willow might have put an arm around her shoulder reassuringly, and Gus would be spewing facts too fast for her to process any of this fear. Amity might have held her hand as the boat moved, and squeezed it to remind her that everything was going to be okay. Now that she'd gotten used to having her friends around, she really forgot how lonely it was to be alone.

Cooper took a seat next to her, seemingly oblivious to the terror around them, instead just watching the sights with awe.

“It's so amazing!” He whispered to her. Luz frowned. Maybe he’d hit his head before he died. Luz could think of a scroll of places better than this, including the dumpster shoot behind her Mami's apartment. But he couldn’t have been older than seven or eight, so Luz wasn’t going to be the one to break it to him.

“Yeah, it sure is,” she said, forcing a smile and hoping it wasn't a grimace.

“My mommy would love to live in a place like this,” he whispered to her, “it smells like Nana’s house by the beach. And the man pushing the boat looks just like my daddy. They have the same color hair and everything!”

Luz frowned, looking to Charon and back to Cooper. They looked nothing alike. While Charon looked like he haunted funeral homes, Cooper was blond and bright-eyed. And she hadn’t been to many beaches before, but she was certain they didn’t smell like this.

“Where’s your mommy, Cooper?”

“I dunno! She told me I was allowed to walk to the convince store and buy candy and pop.” Cooper said with a shrug, too busy leaning over the gondola towards the river to pay much attention to her.

He reached forward to stick his hand in the water, and Luz leaned forward to stop him, her gut screaming at her that it would not be good. Behind her, Charon shook his head.

“Don’t touch! You’ll burn your whole hand off.”

But as he said that, Luz touched his hand. Instead of feeling solid flesh, her hand passed right through the murky layer around him, and her whole world shifted. For just a moment, she saw things the same way he did.

Now, Charon was a tall, handsome, blond man in colorful bathing suit shorts and a white tank top. He was gently scolding Cooper, “Don’t touch! You might fall in!” Cooper pulled back, laughing in delight.

The Underworld was beautiful. Clear blue skies, the air clean and fresh. They were riding in a pontoon boat over a clear blue lake, and there were ducks chattering in the water near them. In the distance, she could see the shore. People waited, laughing and talking, standing near a freshly painted dock and a cozy-looking cottage.

She quickly pulled back her hand out of his mist, her shoulder blade hitting the side of the gondola. Then, she was back.

“Holy Hermes…” she muttered, blinking to stay focused. She was thrown off from not being able to grab his arm, but then she felt stupid. Of course she wouldn't be able to touch him. He was dead. Then she'd seen his vision... what in Zeus' name was that all about?

“Some mortals just can't handle seeing the world as it actually is,” Charon whispered to her and chills shot up her spine at the sound of his voice right near her ear. “For poor folks like this one… ones who’ve barely lived, they don’t deserve to be scarred like that. Not that it matters, anyway. He doesn’t need a judge to tell him where he’s going to end up.”

The gondola finally knocked against the shore, and Charon pointed to something in the distance. There, she got her first glance at the real entrance to the Underworld. Lines upon lines of spirits, separated into two lines to pass through what looked almost like airport security.

One line was moving so quickly, Luz could barely keep up. It was like there was no security at all for this line besides the metal detectors. It was marked as the “EZ” line. But the other was in a totally dead stop, marked as a line towards the Judgement Pavillion. Luz shivered when she heard barking, and saw a massive, three-headed Rottweiler eyeing each of the spirits walking through the metal detectors like he was just waiting to swallow one of them up.

Beyond that, Luz saw the Fields of Asphodel. It went on for what seemed like miles, and in the distance, she spotted a giant obsidian castle. The palace of Hades. To the left of the Fields, Luz flinched and looked away. It was the Fields of Punishment. She was fairly far away, but she could still hear the shouts of agony in the distance. Maybe it was best she didn’t dwell on it.

But just to the right of the Fields of Asphodel, Luz’s eyes widened. It was an actual gated community in the Underworld, with beautiful, thick, trees, and the sounds of people laughing and enjoying a barbeque. It was such a shock from what was on the other side of the pathway, that Luz almost didn’t want to tear her gaze away.

Elysium. Cooper would be in good hands.

Luz, however, would have to take the more daunting trek. First, she had to find Amity. And in a realm with billions of souls, she had no idea how she was going to do that.

Thanking Charon with a low whisper, Luz climbed out of the boat as it docked. She had no time to waste. Amity hadn’t been down here much longer than Luz had, and if she didn’t want to completely lose her trail, she needed to find her and quick.

As she waded through spirits, she was desperately looking anywhere for a splash of mint hair. She checked the entire EZ line, careful not to get too close to Cerberus before she finally accepted that Amity wasn’t anywhere in the wafts of moving souls. Then, it hit her.

Of course Amity wasn’t there.

She had always been an overachiever and prided herself on being the best of the best. It was stupid of Luz to ever think she’d willingly take the boring Fields of Asphodel for eternity when there was another option.

So, she started checking the line to the Judgement Pavilion. As she walked through, she heard some disgruntled murmurs from the souls and was quick to hold up her hands.

“I’m not cutting! I’m just looking for someone.”

That seemed to be pretty unusual because souls didn’t bother her much after that.

Luz was thanking every god she could think of that the souls in this section looked much more lively than the ones she’d seen in line for the Fields of Asphodel. These souls remembered who they were, and we're proud to get in line and be judged. She hoped that when she found Amity, she would be feeling the same way.

Gods, if only she could find Amity. She checked every soul, walking up and down the line for what felt like hours.

Then, she saw her. Her back was to Luz, a few souls ahead of her, and she looked exactly as she did right before she fell down the mountain. Her mint green hair was tied up in its usual style, her clothes were ragged and battle-worn, and her arms were crossed impatiently as she waited. Despite the familiarity, she, like the other souls Luz had seen, were coated in a thin mist and had that same off look about them, but it was still so obviously Amity and Luz’s heart just about shot out of her chest.

“Amity! Amity!!!"

She sprinted as fast as she could, and Amity turned her head, her eyes widening at the sound of her voice.

“Luz?”

Luz slammed into her, fully planning to wrap her arms around her, but instead only managed to lose her footing, and fall right through Amity. There was no vision this time as she slammed into the coarse sand of the Underworld, groaning. Right, Amity was dead. She wouldn't be able to touch her.

As she crawled to her feet, she felt disappointment wash through her. It wasn't fair. All she wanted to do was hug Amity. She was standing stiff behind Luz like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Luz, is that really you?"

The disappointment faded to something else entirely when she heard her voice. It was just as it had been before she'd come to the Underworld. Her knee was stinging, and there was probably another hole in her leggings, but she couldn’t recall another time she’d been so relieved in her life. She stepped towards her, reaching out only to slowly remove her hand before it touched her face. It wouldn't work anyway.

“It's me. It's really me." She said, though she could barely believe her own eyes. "I... I thought I’d never see you again," she whispered, her heart hammering tightly in her chest.

“Luz, what are you doing here?” Amity breathed out, clearly just as shocked.

“Oh you know, just some of the usual quest stuff,” Luz said with a chuckle, and Amity recoiled in surprise. She eyes Luz up and down like she was looking for any signs Luz had changed.

“Another quest? I… I didn’t think I’d been down here that long…”

“What?” Luz asked, blinking. “No! It's the same quest I’ve been on this whole time. Amity, I’m here to take you back.”

Amity’s mouth dropped open, before closing and reopening multiple times. “Luz… I… I’m dead. I can’t just… I can’t just go.”

“But you can!” Luz insisted, reaching forward to take her hand. Her fingers passed right through, and she looked down, frustrated. Amity flinched, pulling her hand to her chest. “You’re not at the judging pavilion yet. You haven’t been entered into the Underworld officially. Amity, I’m here to fix this.”

“You can’t fix a prophecy, Luz,” Amity said with a stern shake of her head, even though her eyes were dark with sadness. “Look, all this is over. I… I died, yeah, but that’s how it was meant to be. I knew that, and I know you do too.”

“We were wrong. Amity, we’ve been wrong this whole time! Look, I met my Dad just after you…” Luz swallowed hard, and Amity looked away, biting her lip. Luz took a quick breath and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He told me that this wasn’t over. What closes on one side has to close on the other too. I’m here to make sure the portal stays closed for good, and I need you to help me. Please, Amity. Just trust me.”

Amity looked back at Luz, and something in her face shifted. She sighed, giving Luz a tiny smile.

“I can’t even die in peace, can I? Are you always going to be like this?”

Luz's heartbeat once in her chest, hard.

“Am I always going to be like what? Charming and intriguing?” Luz asked with a grin.

“No," Amity scoffed with a shake of her head. "I meant annoying and persistent.”

“Well, that depends. Are you going to step out of this line?”

Amity paused for another moment, looking down towards the judging pavilion with a thoughtful look on her face. After another moment, she stepped forward, gesturing for the soul behind her to move up.

“Alright, you've convinced me. I'm in. What’s the plan?”

#the owl house #lumity #luz x amity #Percy Jackson AU #shelby speaks

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edgeofmyniall · 4 years

Text

three: “Jolene”

masterlist | taglist | thoughts

“Jolene, I'm begging of you please don't take my man....please don't take him just because you can”

Ginger woke to fifteen missed calls from Niall, thirty-three texts that consisted of variations of “Are you okay?” and “Please call me back.” Each text made her head pound, whether it was out of anger or something else she didn’t know. But the one text message that made her heart beat rapidly and forcibly made her sit up in bed out of pure shock was a single text from John Doe.

Daniel....

Hey, what are you up to?

It was sent at 2:56 a.m. She could hear her mother clearly as she bit the inner corner of her lip: “Nothing good comes after eleven. Nothing.” It was now 8:39 a.m. Nearly a six hour difference between the initiation and response. Ginger quickly tapped at the screen, trying to come up with a witty response. Her brain tried to remind her that this was bad news like Niall, but her heart told her brain that Daniel could have changed and their history proved volitable.

Her body began to involuntarily shake as she stared at the name in the top part of the screen. She smiled to herself as she thought of the many memories her and Daniel shared.

Just woke up, haha. What’s up with you? Long time, no see.

The ellipses popped up immediately and Ginger threw her phone across her bed at the sight of Daniel responding. This is actually happening. Wait, wasn’t he married to what’s-her-face? Kendall? Kimberly? K-something...

Ginger tried not to keep up secretly with Daniel after everything he put her through, but she just had to know if he was happy, like truly happy. He went through many girlfriends until he met his wife at college in Florida. She watched afar and silently as he found happiness.

Couldn’t sleep. I was going through our yearbook and I couldn’t stop wondering if you’re doing good G

G. It had been years since someone had called her that. And it was Daniel’s name for her. Even after he broke her heart that afternoon so long ago, he would still linger his eyes on her for a bit too long for someone who never liked her. Never cared for her.

I’m doing good. In California working. What about you? You become that all-star catcher? She knew the answer, but she wanted to keep the conversation going. Talking to Daniel brought her unexplainable joy no matter what the conversation was about.

Nah. I’m coaching at the high school though. Figured that was as close to MLB as I’ll ever get haha

Ginger tried to think of a witty comeback for his statement before there was another message.

Miss you G. You’re still beautiful

Ginger blinked violently as she tried to process what just happened. Daniel misses me? In what dream state am I in? She couldn’t think of anything to say, but the yearning truth: Miss you too Danny.

~~~

Stella was bouncing in the kitchen. Bouncing isn’t the correct word- she was dancing to Miley Cyrus, but bouncing was a better fit than the word dancing. She was practically jumping up and down to some break up song, and Ginger felt like she was suffocating. Either Niall and Stella needed to break up or make amends because Ginger can not take much more of the whiplash the two have caused her. Stella began singing at the top of her lungs off-key and Ginger breathed a sigh of relief when her phone began to rang. It was Niall.

Stealthily, Ginger sneaks through the living room and pushes the glass door open. The enclosed backyard was small and L-shaped. She spent very little time outside, but she loved the small deck that Stella and her had put together when they first moved in together: just a patio table with an umbrella that was torn in half with mismatched chairs around it.

She closed the door and slid her thumb across the screen.

“Yes?” Ginger snaps, her voice sharp and jagged as her annoyance was made clear.

“I was, uh,” Niall is taken aback from the hurtful tone of his friend. “I was making sure you’re okay.” “I’m fine,” Ginger is short with Niall, something that isn’t normal.

“Ya sure? I wasn’t tryn’ to be a dick last night, I just...I have a lot on me mind.”

“Well you were, so…” Ginger twirled her hair in between her fingers as her mind wanders at the thought of Daniel. What was he doing? And why did he text her after all this time?

“I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know.” Niall’s voice fades off and that pulls Ginger back into reality. She sits on the cement stair leaning out to the background and leans against the glass door.

“What’s wrong? Tell me. Or I’ll beat it outta you,” Ginger accepts Niall’s apology with a threat of unbelievable violence-her way of cheering up Niall. It had worked in the past.

“I’m givin’ Stella to the end of the month to get ‘er shit together, or I’m leaving. I’m gone. For good. No more hangin’ out wid each oder. Done.” Ginger imagines Niall waving his hands around as each of his words spills out into the line. The way he picks at his cuticles and bites his lip as he waits for an answer.

“And you’re gonna tell she has until the end of the month?” Ginger asks, her brow quirks up in half amusement and half surprise.

“No.”

Ginger shakes her head to process the simple answer.

“She can figure it out on her own. She’s smart. I won’t try as hard, and if she doesn’t care enough to ask or do anything ‘bout it, that’s when I’ll know.”

“So you’re basing your relationship on telepathic inabilities?” Ginger half laughs and rolls her eyes. “I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t want to be with her anymore, Gin.” Niall’s voice is harsh and deep, frustration floating in his tone.

“Then fucking break up with her. God, fuck this. Either you be with her or you don’t.” Ginger stands up as her tone increases. She’s yelling at Niall now. “I don’t want to be a part of this!”

Stella opens the glass door with a confused look on her face and Ginger looks at her with somber filling her eyes. She stands and faces her cousin whose eyes are puffy from the amount of crying she’s been doing.

“Whether you like it or not, Ginger, you’re a part of this as much as I am. I can’t believe that I’m-”

Ginger cuts the phone off before she hears anything that Niall might regret saying.

“What was that all about? Who was that? Was that Niall? He hasn’t returned any of my texts, and I-” Stella’s mouse like voice returned to normal and Ginger sighs before cupping her hands around her cousin’s shoulders.

“It was. He just wanted to make sure I was okay after my encounter with Rex at work,” Ginger lies. Her heart is racing hoping Stella buys the line she just dropped. Stella looks at Ginger for a moment and decides it is the truth.

“He’s such a dick.”

“Such a dick. What do you want to do today? I can go do laundry.” Ginger follows her cousin into the house and prays to God for letting the lie work. “I’ve got quarters.”

~~~~

Ginger is scrolling through her Twitter feed as she waits for the clothes to finish washing in the top right machine. Her offer of doing laundry was a plea to escape the house. Her rhythm of washing, drying, and folding the warm, clean clothes was meticulous enough to get her mind off certain things: Niall, Daniel, and the whole Stella situation.

Every time she wanted to be alone, needed to be alone, someone was there to interrupt her thoughts and processes of events that happened in the past two weeks.

Celebration Dinner: Niall came on to Ginger multiple times during dinner and after driving her home, he basically all but told her that he had feelings for her. Then she avoids anyone associated with him for two weeks which includes her cousin a.k.a. his girlfriend. Then last night or this morning, depending how you look at it, Daniel texts her out of the blue. What the hell is going on?

A sudden light tap on her shoulder makes Ginger jump. She’s on edge since dinner two weeks ago as if she’s hiding something; like she’s guilty. It was a young girl with braids throughout her hair that needed to get by and Ginger’s sprawled out legs were taking up the walkway.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Ginger mumbles and smiles to the little girl. “Here,” Ginger pulls a dollar worth in quarters off the machine she’s been leaning on as she sits and waits for the washing machine to be done. “Go get you a coke.”

The girl happily takes the coins and pushes the clothes basket into her mother’s calves. “Momma, this girl gave me money for a drink. Can I get one?” The dark-skinned lady turns around and looks at Ginger, and as awkward as she may feel right now, Ginger smiles softly. She knew the mom wasn’t happy about the basket wreck or that a complete stranger gave her daughter money, but Ginger looked decent enough. She sighs before saying: “Did you tell her thank you?”

“Thank you lady!” The young girl runs to the back of the laundromat and decides what she should pick.

“You really have a way with people.” The simple sentence was spoken to Ginger and she knew by the accent who it was: the one person she’s been trying to avoid. She closes her eyes and sighs softly before turning around. “You hung up on me.”

“Yeah, well, you were being a dick again.” Ginger goes back to her scrolling on Twitter as Niall sits down on the bench beside her. He begins to tap her thumbs and palms against the white rusting metal of the machines as he looks both ways before smiling very assholishly in Ginger’s opinion.

“I’m a dick for expressing my thoughts. I’m a dick for not. Catch twenty-two.” Niall’s voice hums over the dryer behind him and it was a tug on his striped shirt that pulled his glance away from Ginger.

“You’re in One Direction,” the little girl that Ginger had given her money to had come up to Niall. “You look different.”

“I look different?” Niall asks and the little girl nods. “Well that’s ‘cause I’m growing up. Like you are. What’s yer name?” Niall crouches down to talk to the girl better, and she smiles.

“Jamiyah. My momma calls me Jay.”

“Where is your mom? Is she here?” Jamiyah nods and grasps Niall’s hand and pulls him toward her mom. Ginger watches the ordeal, but blocks out their conversation. They take a quick picture and Niall is back to sitting down next to Ginger, but this time his hand is close to Ginger’s thigh, and her mind races as she thinks about his burning touch on her skin. Niall is intoxicating her and she still needs to drive home.

“So are we gonna talk or what?” Niall leans in and whispers, his breath hot on Ginger’s ear. She swallows hard as she tries to concentrate on the social media platform she’s currently on, but it’s a war Ginger isn’t ready to fight. She turns her head and his face is inches away from hers, but she can taste the mint of his breath. Her mouth falls open slightly before she scrapes her teeth against the skin of her bottom lip.

“I, um, thought you already talked.” Ginger’s words fall out of her mouth before she can process what she’s saying. In the laundromat with the machines whirling clothes around, Niall looks around and sees the small family have disappeared before looking back at Ginger, pulling himself closer. “I’ll never stop talking to ya, Gin.”

His lips tasted of mint and strawberries; Ginger assumes from his midday smoothie. The plump skin rolls against hers as she wanes her neck. Niall’s tongue coaxes Ginger’s mouth open with the gentle brush of his open mouth against hers and their tongues roll against each other. Ginger breathes in deep and lets out a loud moan as she begins to climb on top of Niall, pushing him down onto the bench. Niall cups the nape of Ginger’s neck and halts her from throwing herself onto him. He pulls back, his thumb tracing Ginger’s cheekbone as he catches his breath. Ginger’s hair falls down onto his face and he wants to drown in her curls. Niall’s palm burns into Ginger’s pale skin and as she sits back up, Niall bites his lip as he stifles a grunt.

“Jesus, Gin, got me stiff while waitin’ for the washin’.” Niall looks up at the ceiling, begging his mind to think of anything but the touch of Ginger’s breast grazing his chest or how sweet her lips tasted against his. He smiles as his mind wanders to the things he is yearning not to think of.

Ginger takes in Niall as his brow folds-concentrating to quiet this hard on Ginger has caused him. His throat is thick and the bulge in the middle is prominent; the only thoughts Ginger has is what she would give to leave her mark on his skin. To burn him with her touch as he does hers.

“I like this version of talkin’,” Niall laughs as he looks at Ginger. The washing machine dings and Ginger stands quickly before smoothing her unwrinkled shirt. She places the clothes directly underneath to dry and Niall stands before Ginger turns around.

“Hey, uh, yah. I’m on my way,” Niall cuts the phone call short and he half-sheepishly smiles at Ginger. He grasps her wrists and his touch is fire against her ice skin. “I gotta run, babe.” Niall lets go and begins to walk out of the laundry facility before he turns around and jogs to Ginger. He quickly kisses her on the lips, full and lovingly before kissing her on the cheek and the neck and her ear.

“Go, you idiot.” Ginger says and watches Niall walk out of the building. It was when she sat down that she realized what she had done.

“Fuck,”

~~~~

Ginger drives home slowly. The corner laundromat ride should not take fifteen minutes, but it does. And an extra five minutes before Ginger braves herself strong enough to walk into her house. The only thing that made Ginger even come home was the fact that Stella needed her clothes.

In the driveway was parked Niall’s car, and the pit in Ginger’s stomach grew. She wanted to swallow herself whole.

On the couch, as Ginger walked in, was Niall and Stella. Stella was dry humping and rolling her hips around Niall’s waist in the middle of Ginger’s couch. Anger bubbled in her body and it took everything she had in herself to not throw Stella off Niall and punch him in the jaw. She loudly dropped the clothes basket on the coffee table, interrupting Niall and Stella’s heavy petting. Ginger’s eyes fill with tears when Stella looks up at Ginger as she still holds on to Niall’s neck, her fingers wasted in his hair. He looks as if he’s lost for words and as he tries to gather what he wants to say- to explain what he’s just been caught doing, Ginger walks to the kitchen and locates the bottle of tequila before stomping upstairs and slams the bedroom door shut.

If Niall can hurt her like this, she’ll hurt him back ten times harder.

~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

@oyesmendes ndes @thicksniall @kare38 @stayclose-holdsteady @halfpinthoran

#niall horan #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fic #niall horan au #1dff #heartbreak weather #friends to lovers

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fandomstuff67 · 4 years

Text

I’m here with another little Destiel ficlet. But I wrote this one for my best friend @anotherdowneyfan1 because it’s her birthday today and I wanted to do something for her since she’s so amazing and deserves the world.

Description:

Castiel is a soldier who just returned from Iraq but on his trip home via train, a stranger falls asleep on his shoulder.

Read below or on Ao3

The train station bustled with people, some were running, desperate to catch their trains before they left, others were walking slowly, dragging suitcases behind them or clinging to their purses. There were men dressed in suits and ties and women’s heels clicked against dirty cement as they walked by. Mothers with children held firmly to the hands of their kids, teenagers laughed as they walked, and a homeless man was sitting against one of the grimy subway walls, holding out an empty can.

As Castiel passed the homeless man, he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the change he’d received after purchasing his train ticket. He stuck the dollar bills and coins into the can and the man blinked up at him in thanks.

“God bless you.”

Castiel nodded and tipped his cap to the man before moving over to the empty train platform to wait. He felt the eyes of a few people boring into him, but he didn’t pay them any mind. He knew why they were staring, he stuck out like a sore thumb in his military fatigues, and people never knew whether to approach him or let him be. Castiel didn’t mind either way, so he just stood with his eyes facing the empty train tracks, shoulders straight and hands clasped behind his back.

He felt someone tap him on the arm and he turned to look at a short older woman. Her gray hair sat on top of her head in a tangled mass of wayward strands, it reminded Castiel vividly of a bird's nest. Her eyes were a little sunken but they still glowed with life, and her skin was wrinkled like old parchment.

“Thank you for your service, young man,” she said. Her voice was scratchy and weathered, but there was a sweetness to it that made Castiel smile.

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” he replied with a curt nod.

The woman smiled at him and then patted his arm. “You have a good day.”

“You too,” Castiel said.

As the woman shuffled away, the screeching of the train slowing to a halt on the tracks made Castiel turn to see the train arriving. The doors slid open and Castiel stepped through them.

Despite the earlier chaos of the subway station, this train wasn’t packed to the brim and Castiel found himself sitting down in an empty seat. The train filled slowly, but there were still many seats left available by the time the last passengers squeezed through the doors.

A man collapsed into the seat beside Castiel with a heavy sigh and without any preamble, he shut his eyes and was asleep in seconds, soft snores emulating from his mouth. The train began to move and Castiel found himself watching the sleeping stranger beside him.

He had light brown hair that stuck up a bit in the front, he was young, but not that much younger than Castiel, he would put him at around twenty-five. Freckles were splattered across his face like a dusting of snow across a barren landscape. His eyelashes fluttered with each breath he took and when the train made a sharp turn in the tunnel, his head shifted and landed softly against Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel bit back a soft smile as the man pressed himself further against him, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t have the heart to move the man, so he let the stranger sleep.

It was about thirty minutes later that the man finally stirred, sniffing and blinking back to consciousness. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes and when he saw Castiel looking at him he offered him a nod. “Uh, hey.”

“Hello.”

“Sorry, was I…” the man blushed and Castiel couldn’t help but find it endearing. “Did I just fall asleep on you?”

“It’s okay,” Castiel reassured him.

“Oh that is so embarrassing,” the man said as he bit his lip in humiliation.

“It’s really okay,” Castiel said. “I didn’t mind.”

The man blushed again and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, I’m Dean.”

“Hello Dean, my name is Castiel.”

“Castiel huh?” he repeated. “So, did you just get back stateside?” Dean asked, his voice was deep and sleep-rough, it made Castiel shiver even in the hot confines of his fatigues.

“Yes.”

“Where were you serving?”

“Iraq.”

“Wow, I’ll bet you’ve seen some shit, huh?”

Castiel nodded slowly. “Yes. Too much.”

“You know, I thought about enlisting once, but then I decided against it. I couldn’t run the risk of anything happening to me, I wasn’t about to leave my little brother alone in the world.”

“Are you always this open about your life with strangers?” Castiel wondered.

Dean snorted as he slid down a bit in his seat, resting his head against the window. “Not usually, guess there’s something special about you.”

“There’s nothing special about me,” Castiel said quietly.

Dean sat up straighter in his seat and turned to Castiel, giving him his full attention. “Dude, seriously? You’re fighting for this country, I’d say that’s pretty special.”

“That’s the only thing interesting about me.”

“Oh come on, that can’t be true.”

Castiel looked over at Dean and met his vividly green eyes. “I live in a one bedroom apartment by myself because I have no one left. I enlisted because I had nothing better to do with my life.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no one, because you just made yourself a friend,” Dean said with a smile. He dug in his pocket for his phone and then held it out to Castiel. “Put your number in there.”

Castiel stared at the phone for a moment before he took it with a small smile. He entered his number and then handed the phone back to Dean.

“We’re going to get coffee tomorrow and I won’t hear a word against it.”

Throughout the rest of the train ride, Castiel had a warm bubble sitting in his chest as Dean talked to him about nothing and everything. When they both got off at the same stop they couldn’t help but laugh at the coincidence, but as they officially parted ways, Castiel found himself walking the rest of the way to his apartment with a smile on his face and a hop to his step.

****

Eventually, meeting for coffee turned into so much more. Castiel didn’t know who leaned in first or how it happened, but he remembered kissing Dean and feeling like they were the only two people in the world. The sounds of gunshots and the screams of his fellow soldiers in pain as explosions sent dirt raining down on them, faded away, and it was just Dean.

He remembered smiling at Dean as their foreheads rested against each other, their hot coffees long since gone cold. Dean’s fingers laced with Castiel’s and they both laughed and kissed again.

****

Castiel’s new favorite thing was waking up next to Dean, seeing the sleep leave his eyes and the soft smile on his lips that put crinkles at the corners of his green eyes. “Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean greeted him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean laughed and rolled onto his side. “One of these days you could just say ‘mornin’ back, like a normal person.”

Castiel grinned at him and leaned forward to kiss his boyfriend. “Mornin’,” he growled into Dean’s mouth.

“Holy shit, Cas,” Dean gasped as Castiel pulled away. “That was the sexiest thing you’ve ever fucking said.” Castiel chuckled and kissed Dean again quickly before slipping out of bed.

****

Their wedding was small. Castiel didn’t have any surviving family members to invite and even if he did none of them would’ve attended. But Dean’s family was there. His brother Sam, his uncle Bobby and aunt Ellen, and a boatload of cousins.

Castiel couldn’t have imagined a more perfect wedding, and when Dean slipped the ring on his finger and said ‘I do’, he didn’t even wait for the priest to say they could kiss, he just grabbed Dean and smashed their lips together to the sound of everyone around them cheering and applauding.

When they walked down the aisle hand in hand, Castiel found himself thinking about how grateful he was that the man beside him had accidentally fallen asleep on his shoulder. Castiel had never been more happy, and when Dean smiled down at him, green eyes sparkling, Castiel tightened his hold on his husband’s hand and let Dean lead them off towards the next chapter of their lives.

#destiel #ficlet #fanfic #fanfictions #spn fanfic #supernatural #HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEST FRIEND #my writing

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

Text

A New Adventure - Pt. 5

Okay, y’all, I know I have been extremely absent on this fic and it’s because I’m taking inspiration for this from my real life, but Covid literally destroyed all my plans and therefore put a halt on my inspiration for this. Also, feedback and people asking about if this would be continued literally saved this fic’s life! Don’t ever think that I don’t read your comments or put any weight to your feedback, because that is literally what got things rolling again for this one. Anyways, rant done! Happy reading!

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Quarantini, anyone?

(Authors note: A lot of things, especially towards the end, are extremely fictional and have very little fact and I gloss over the aspect of time. Please don't hate me for that. I'm writing this purely for fun!)

Weeks before you'd met Arthur, you'd heard of the Corona virus. But it was in China then, certainly not a problem in your state.

After meeting Arthur though, the first case in Utah was reported. Still, it wasn't a bother. You thought nothing of it.

That was until, a few weeks later, news reports were that reported cases were skyrocketing. You looked up the symptoms and who was most at risk. Your heart dropped. Arthur was the perfect target as his immune system was highly affected by the TB.

By this point, everyone in your office knew you had a roommate, but not much more than that.

When you discovered Arthur was highly at risk, you decided not to take chances with him and asked to work remotely, to self quarantine.

A week later has gone by and the entire state is in quarantine anyway.

Arthur's confused. He's never heard of Covid, obviously. Why would he have? He finds it incredibly strange that a disease that was first reported in Asia has so quickly become a problem in the states. You have to explain internationality to him and how the entire world is basically connected.

Unlike the rest of the state, you decide not to go crazy and wipe out the shelves of toilet paper and other items. You're lucky in that you bought a large packet not long before this started.

Still, the demand for certain items surprises you and Arthur.

"What you supposed to do during a… quarantine like this?" he asks.

"I don't know, Arthur. The last big pandemic was during 1920 I think. Obviously long before my time."

This is a whole new experience for both of you.

Luckily you're easily able to set up an office at home so you can still work and not have to worry too much about money. However, your amount of work is affected.

You get worried rather quickly about how much work you're going to get. If you don't get work, you don't get paid.

Arthur sees you worrying, even though you don't say anything. He tries to help lighten the load, but there's not much he can.

Money is getting tight. You're starting to have to withdraw from savings. It doesn't help that Arthur will need a refill on his meds and they weren't cheap the first time. How the hell are you going to afford to take care of him and your dog?

Arthur is starting to worry about you. He knows how little sleep you've been getting, despite barely leaving the house.

One night, Arthur sits you down on the couch before dinner and asks you to share your worries with him.

You've been so strong in front of him up to this point, not wanting him to see you as weak or pathetic. But that night, you break down. It helps to voice your worries, even though you know there's nothing he can do.

At least that's what you think.

The weekends are when you go to the store. Arthur's been coming with you more and more to the store. He likes to see what the world is like now.

When you tell him to get ready to go to the store, he says he's not feeling very well. He has days where his TB is just worse than others. Although he's responding wonderfully to the medicine, it still seems to kick his ass. So he says he's going to stay home, get some rest.

You bid him goodbye, saying you'll be longer than usual as you need to go to the pharmacy and get him more medicine.

Your stomach drops when the pharmacist tells you the price. Thank God for your flex spending account, but it doesn't pay for the inhaler refills. Those you have to buy yourself, and it's nearly $100. You sigh. As much as you love having the Arthur Morgan as your roommate, right now is the worst time with this pandemic.

When you get home and get the groceries carried in, Arthur puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N, before we put things away, I need to show you something."

"Arthur, I got cold stuff. Will you help me? It'll be twice as quick."

He gives you a sweet grin that makes you blush and agrees. Funny. You know what he's like on the days when he really doesn't feel good. He's usually lethargic and coughs a lot. Sometimes he even vomits. Once he fell unconscious and you had to drag him to bed (which was nearly impossible. He's a big, broad guy).

Today though he's acting relatively normal. As you look a little harder at him as you move around the kitchen, putting things away, you notice he's got dirt on his skin, under his nails. His right elbow has a large scrape on it.

As soon as everything's been put away, Arthur offers you his hand. This makes your stomach flip. He's never tried to hold your hand before this.

He leads you into his bedroom and flips on the light. On his bed lies a large pile of money. Stacks and stacks of bills, piles of coins. What the hell?

After inspecting them, you notice the bills are not common day dollars. They're much bigger, the designs different. They're bills from the 1890's. The coins are exactly the same.

"I knew you was worried about money and I know I been a burden." You try to argue but he stops you. "So, when you was at the store, I snuck back to my world."

He coughs as he says this. He's visited there a couple of times and every time he does, his TB comes back in full swing, making him relapse until he returns.

"I found a few treasure maps long before I got here," he continues. "So I managed to track 'em down. Also pulled a quick robbery on a bank stage. Anyways, thought this could be my way of contributing."

You can't believe he's done this for you. You know Arthur has a soft, gentle side, but even you didn't expect this.

After counting the money, it all comes to over $1500. That will cover your expenses for over a month and adding what money you are making, you'll be fine. For a few months anyways and hopefully by that point, quarantine will be lifted.

This all adds up and you realize you don't have to worry about money anymore. Arthur has done more for you than you could imagine and it brings tears to your eyes.

He's worried when he sees you beginning to cry, thinking he did something wrong. When you tell him it's because you're so grateful, he gives you another dazzling smile.

"I just couldn't stand letting you do all the work and me just taking advantage. Maybe I'm just so used to helping folk I care about…"

He's cut off by you hugging him. You're not a hugger, typically, but this has definitely earned him one. You hear him huff a little and he pats your back.

"Thank you so much, Arthur."

After doing some research on how to trade old bills for current ones, you end up with even more money because the money Arthur provided ends up being considered antique and "museum quality" (according to the appraiser). This means you leave with well over $50,000.

"Well well, Arthur," you say with a sly smile. "Turns out your robbing ways are still highly useful, even in my day."

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead fanfic #a new adventure #i'm awkward

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neuroduckvergent · 4 years

Text

The Beagle Coin

Fandom: Ducktales 2017

Characters: Louie Duck, Donald Duck, Scrooge McDuck (Dewey & Huey mentioned)

Notes: Autistic Louie, ADHD Scrooge, ADHD Dewey

Special Interests, Louie decided, were both a blessing and a curse.

They were a blessing when they brought you joy and excitement, when you had someone to talk to them about. When they were something normal and not too out of the ordinary, because otherwise the people at school would look at you weird and laugh about your weird obsessions and- he didn't need to go down this rabbit hole right now. He didn't like to think about the other kids at school. They didn't matter. He had his brothers.

They were a curse, however, when you would never be able to complete a collection you have been working on for years. When the missing piece was taunting you oh-so smugly. When it was <i>just</i> out of reach. Close enough to grab it but with such great consequences you couldn't even dream of taking it.

It frustrated him.

Louie's special interest was money, particularly coins. And no, that didn't refer to him wanting to be rich or anything, that was a completely different dream. Having money just for the sake of spending it was really great, but having coins in your collection and knowing all of the history behind the coins, being able to talk about when they were forged, and having so much knowledge in your head you can even put your nerdy brother to shame? That was the best.

Over the course of their adventures, Louie had discovered so many coins he didn't even know existed and it made him so happy! His collection was ever growing. Back when they still lived in the marina he didn't really have a lot of coins. A few old quarters and one of every current coin, but none of them were actually valuable or special in any sort of way. Still, they had emotional value and he cherished them. He knew all the history behind why they had the coins they had today, which led to the missing piece in his collection: The elusive Beagle Coin.

Before Scrooge bought (more like stole) Duckburg from the beagles, they had already started producing some currency. It was only coins and not a lot, but they were known as beagle coins. Nowadays they were worth more than Louie's entire life and super rare, so the chance of ever getting one were below zero. Or, well, so he thought.

Turns out Uncle Scrooge has one.

He was helping Uncle Donald clean the money bin when he stumbled upon the fabled missing piece in his collection. Of course his reaction was immediate, happily clapping and bouncing as he went to show it off to his uncle.

"Uncle Donald look what I found! Look! Uncle Scrooge has a beagle coin! Can I keep it Uncle Donald, please please please?"

Uncle Donald, obviously, told him to ask Uncle Scrooge. Bummer. The old miser would never let him steal it- have it, not steal it. Louie would never steal anything, he was the most honest person he knew! Plus the stern look Uncle Donald gave him kept him from even attempting it anyway.

"Come ON Uncle Scrooge! Please let me have it? I don't want to sell it, I want it for my collection!" "Laddie, do you think I'm daft? This coin is worth thousands of dollars, I'm not going to give it to you. You will sell it and who knows in whose hands it will end up in then!"

Uncle Scrooge really was just as understanding as Louie had predicted: not at all. He wouldn't even listen to Louie trying to explain how much this coin meant to him, which just ended with him being incredibly frustrated about being not listened to, and eventually just having a meltdown. That caused a ruckus and Scrooge pretty much just kicked him out of the money bin.

Well, that was a disaster.

He refused to talk to anyone after that for a few days. It went well for the most part, even when he couldn't really stand Dewey exploding on him about how you shouldn't ignore your family. Huey brought him back to earth quickly by, very angrily, explaining to his brother that Louie was obviously listening and probably just nonverbal and that he should sit down Dewey, he's obviously not doing good!

He managed to hide his mood from Uncle Donald for a few days, not really looking forward to explaining why he refused to talk to anyone, least of all Uncle Scrooge. But Uncle Donald had dad senses, and he was onto Louie, which meant Louie couldn't flee for long. And soon enough he was cornered.

"Okay, Lou. What's wrong? You've been avoiding me for days and I can sense there's something wrong."

And Louie wasn't sure if it was all the frustration that was pent up or if it was because talking to Uncle Donald felt safe, but whatever it was, he spilled the truth pretty much immediately. He began venting about how Uncle Scrooge didn't take him seriously, and about how he refused to listen to him and how overwhelmed he felt by the whole situation.

Needless to say, Uncle Donald didn't take that too well. He patted his head before stomping off. Not five minutes later you could hear his signature anger outburst, loud and echoing throughout the halls. Then everything fell quiet for a while, and Louie briefly wondered if Uncle Donald might have fallen asleep from exerting too much energy by being angry but then he could see his uncle walk down the hallway, Uncle Scrooge in tow. He looked apologetic and Louie was suddenly very aware of the fact that Uncle Donald would probably have murdered Uncle Scrooge if he refused to apologize.

"Ah, laddie. I am sorry. Your uncle... definitely showed me how important this coin would be to you. I wasn't aware coins were your, what do you call it, special interest?”

He was fidgeting a bit and Louie could tell that the other clearly had issues dealing with neurodivergencies, despite having ADHD himself (at least according to Uncle Donald. He overheard him talking about it when he was soothing Dewey about his diagnosis, and how it was fine and normal. "Our family might not be the most neurotypical, but we are the most daring!" That had calmed his brother down a significant amount). Louie could at least appreciate that he was trying, the apology seemed sincere enough.

"I didn't mean ta make you feel like your interests weren't important, but me boy, you need to understand I can't just give you such an important artefact! It's worth a fortune." "But Uncle Scrooge I won't-" "No, I can't afford to lose that much money."

Hopes dashed, Louie looked down to the ground, ready to go back to have the damned thing taunting him. He was about to go "okay, whatever" when Donald intervened.

"How much is the coin worth? I'll pay for it." "Donald, the coin is worth over thousands of dollars." "Well, luckily my life savings are worth almost 10.000 dollars. They were supposed to get me through retirement, but this will be worth it."

Scrooge looked taken aback by that and Louie was honestly just shocked. Uncle Donald couldn't do that! Some stupid coin wasn't worth all that!

"Uncle Donald no! I don't need it that badly-"

Louie might be a conman and devious, but he was also not completely immoral, especially not when it came to his uncle. He knew that Uncle Donald was still struggling with money, so nuh-uh, absolutely no way he was taking that. Judging by Uncle Scrooge's reaction, the older duck wasn't a big fan of that idea either.

"Laddie... This coin isn't worth you wasting your life savings. Okay look, I'll trust you on this okay? I'll trust Louie to not give the coin away and I'll trust you to make sure he doesn't lose it. I don't want to take ye money."

Donald seemed to not have been expecting that, blinking in confusion a few times before smiling softly. Louie, on the other hand, was ecstatic, bouncing excitedly and hugging Scrooge before pulling away quickly and pretending that didn't happen, trying to play cool.

"Yeah, um, thanks Uncle Scrooge."

His giant grin betrayed him, but both of his uncles had the courtesy to not mention it, though Donald did ruffle the feathers on top of Louie's head, making the young duck huff a bit.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #louie duck #donald duck #scrooge mcduck #my writing

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etraytin · 4 years

Text

Quarantine, Day 159

August 17

Tonight the big kittens are playing in the three level tower while I keep an eye on them to ensure that they do not learn any excessively painful lessons about gravity. Zuko and Aang have climbed to the very tallest level and are biting each other, so that's very on brand, while Sokka bounces around and exults in finally figuring out how to go up-- whoops, quick typing break there because he chose that moment to nearly fall overboard. He caught himself though, good job buddy! Katara has found a plush pouncing toy on the ground floor and is playing with it. It looks funny because she is all black against the black bottom tray, and unless I concentrate it kind of looks like the toy just appears and disappears magically whenever she jumps off it. They are all having a good time and have been eating and drinking very well today, which is great except it means their days here are numbered. I'm going to miss the little goobers.

The little bitties had a rough day, pooping out the effects of yesterday's dewormer. Super gross, but better out than in, I guess! It's a good thing I just got seven new bags of old towels from another shelter volunteer. I'm not worried about them yet because they are still active and not dehydrated, but I'm keeping a very close eye on them. Little kittens are so fragile!

Today was a noteworthy day for the ol' quarantine journal because I went to the dentist for the first time since February! (I have no memory of going to the dentist in February, I must've been a madwoman doing any dental stuff so close to the bar exam. What was I even thinking?) There have been a lot of changes. They did the now-typical thing where you wait in the car and they come give you your paperwork, but with the added twist of letting us into the waiting room when the paperwork and temp-taking was done. My dentist is in a strip mall but actively tried to cultivate the feel of one of those offices built into an old house, with period furniture and little curio cabinets and stuff. Everything has been removed from the waiting room, and it is now a completely empty space except for five numbered dots glued to the floor around the periphery of the room. Each person waiting would stand on their own dot until they were called. I missed the couch. The actual exam was very similar to usual, except that I wore a mask for the first update-and-questions part and they made me swish hydrogen peroxide for thirty seconds before the exam. Foamy grossness! My teeth and jaw are super sensitive so even a cleaning is no fun, but I got through it and got scheduled to get my actual dental work done in two weeks. My dental insurance is bad enough that I can only afford to get a couple things done a year, but I wouldn't want to miss my chance for this year just because of some lousy pandemic! My teeth are awful!

I also stopped at a store that vends bathing and bedding equipment as well as other needs beyond that, for reasons that I legally cannot disclose but that did earn me good money on account of the first person supposed to do it flaking out. That store is a liminal space in the best of times, but at least in such a big store there's a lot of room to spread out. I wish I had known before the pandemic that there is basically a coffee bar in there where you can taste test all the coffee machines, but now of course you cannot. Definitely a missed opportunity! I did check out their clearance section and got some very cute saucer-size melamine plates with pictures of cats at the beach on them. I got nine of them for a dollar-fifty! Well, a dollar forty three, but I wanted to pay with cash and I told them to forget the seven cents. Surely someone else needs those scarce pennies more than I do!

Come to think of it, the coin shortage is just another example of the backwards emergency that is the pandemic. In a normal emergency, the sort we are used to and plan for, you join up with other people as soon as feasible. You form community, you help your neighbors, you celebrate and mourn together as you try and patch everything back up. In a pandemic, you stay apart, you avoid your neighbors, you postpone your gatherings and try to remain alone. In a normal emergency you want to have cash on hand in case power goes out or internet and phone lines go down. In a pandemic, there is a coin shortage so exact change or debit/credit is the order of the day. Though I guess in the derecho disaster they just had in Iowa, they did lose their card processing abilities, so they are screwed in both directions. That is an awful sucky situation and I am just glad that it missed my aunt out there. Scary that winds like that could kick up without even a tornado to blame.

Okay, the kittens have played themselves out and are falling asleep, so it's time to get them back in the playpen. After that, maybe I will get a little sleep too! Or maybe not.

#quarantine #dentist #kittens

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haiyuta · 5 years

Text

Private Show | Jisung

Summary: A lonely producer is a huge fan of a camgirl(you)

word count: 2.8k || Genre: camgirl!reader, producer!(fanboy) Jisung, video call, smut, jerking off all that jazz

a/n: not my best work but it's content so...yeah enjoy. lightly edited btw lol.

Your eyes lingered on the red light of your camera signaling you were on. You popped up you on the screen showing the stream clearly. "Hi, my sweeties," you hummed your chats nickname. A small grin lit your lips as your fans as they entered your chat. Your eyes lingered to the chat as a flood of comments came at you.

"Am I doing okay," you read the comment out smiling at the comment "Yes I'm doing fine my sweetie," you grinned at the camera sending that person a little heart with your comment.

The small wow noise filled your ears letting you know a donation was put through. "Will I be doing a private stream," you read the comment out. The private streams you did was more of your not so safe for work streams. It did cost 1 token or 5 dollars to enter said each of those streams which was good money, but you didn't really feel like sexual things on stream tonight.

Pausing you looked at the time "maybe tomorrow sorry guys," you hummed out at the chat. "I'm really tired and want to give you guys an amazing show," you told the chat.

"You're so cute," you read the comment out a small smile lit your lips as you brought your fingers to your cheeks "thank you so much," you answered the comment.

The light chatting was nice they were strangers watching your every move but the majority of them were nice, generous and supportive of every stream you did.

"I love talking to you guys," letting out a soft giggle.

Cities away a young male was watching said stream his eyes watching the stream with interest and want. When he got the alert that you started your stream, he propped up his second laptop ready to watch it.

Jisung aka in your chat 'J1Han' a loyal follower and donator to your channel. From getting rejected often or blown off the loneliness of all that drove him to cam girl websites. Looking through hundreds he finally found one he felt connected to and it was you.

When you would call the chat your "sweeties" his heart would swoon at the comments. Your layout was nice your bedroom lit with reds and pinks.

Going to his token account he realized he had 20 token equality about 100 dollars. Grinning when he heard your soft voice fill his headphones.

"I love talking to you guys," you gave the camera a bright smile. His heart lightly leaped at that smile.

His fingers went to the donation jar with a grin he donated 2 coins writing a quick message "My princess looks so good today I hope you eat well" he internally cringed at calling you, princess. What if you didn't like the nickname he used for you.

Clicking the send button it took a minute for it to go through and then the light melody filled the air making you look to the right counter. His heart leaped lightly as he sat upright to hear you read his comment out.

"My princess looks good today I hope you eat well," you read slowly a grin lifted on your lips. "I did my sweet I eat lots of good food today I hope you did too," you replied to the comment. To say Jisung had an internet crush was accurate. He didn't know why he spent money on a random girl who didn't know him, his friends scolded him for it.

His heart just felt so full watching you from the screen. The way you talked to him and of course the sexual part. He was introduced at your more lewd private shows. The look on your face as your eyes lightly fluttered and rolled your palm deeper inside yourself. As he on the other side of the screen shamelessly palmed himself.

Sighing he relaxed to your simple talking stream your words felt so nice from explaining your day to how you were doing in university. Minutes of the stream turned to an hour until you had to sign off.

"Goodnight my sweeties," you said waving at the audience. The comments all spammed how much they'll miss you. Jisung frowned lightly as you shut off your stream an offline picture popped up signaling it was over.

Frowning he sighed once you ended it. Being your fan was fun you just wished he could talk to you longer.

With a sudden peep of courage, he decided to go to your Instagram which was private and dm you. Holding his breath he typed a quick "Your stream was amazing goodnight Y/n" with a little heart. He felt himself get all jittery and smiled he at least shoot his shot at you.

Sighing you turned off your monitor flipping the camera around as you got up to go to bed. You hummed going to the next room to sleep. The reality of your showroom wasn't your real room. Your real room was simple no pink or light or cute things just a simple room. A place for you to escape from the streaming.

Your phone pinged with new notifications. Your snapchat heavily with nudes from dudes or begging you to be there, your twitter had been flooded with dms and your Instagram as well. Looking through the comments you stopped when you saw the similar username from your stream.

'J1Hann sent you a message'

Sighing you opened it before accepting it reading over the message.

Looking at his picture you grinned to see a young male in the icon he was looking to the side.

J1Hann: 'Your stream was amazing goodnight Y/n'

The comment was innocent and nice to see. Unlike the constant "be my cam girl" "Your so sexy" and lots of other sexual things people sent you. It was refreshing to see such a pure comment.

Smiling you wrote back to him.

Y/nthesweetestthing: Thx I'm glad you liked my stream I know it was tamed :)

Before you knew it the seen popped up making you raise an eyebrow what an eager guy.

J1Hann: I love your tamed streams they're so relaxing

With that reply, you smiled knowing you made in relaxed with just your presence on camera.

It's been almost three months since you got a message from one of your supporters 'J1Hann' or now you know as Han Jisung. From his Instagram account, he was a small account but he was so alluring. His pictures filled with aesthetic pictures of the city him and his friends it looked like a cute face with a nice personality to match.

Jisung was around your age, he was a big fan of you telling you he loved your mukbangs streams the most.

He also told you he was a small producer making songs for people. He claimed he wanted to start singing his own songs one day.

It wasn't normal for you to keep in such close contact with a supporter trying to keep you and your cam girl image life separate. Jisung was different he didn't ask for nudes or private shows he enjoyed talking to you. Not to say the conversation didn't ever turn sexual but it was tamed compared to the mass amount of comments you had. You even video called every now and then when he and you were free.

You practically talked to him every day since you got his message. He was interesting and deep he loved your content but also wanted to just hear about your day and such.

Your fingers hovered over today's conversation it was about meeting up for a date soon. In a weird way, you were in an online relationship with one of your fans.

Y/n: We should do a private call I'm bored

Jisung: A private call

Jisung: don't you have a stream to do

Y/n: I want to give you a private show bby :)

You bite your lip hoping Jisung got the insinuation hoping he got that you wanted to do a little more intense video call with him than normal.

Jisung: really!

Jisung: I'll be on asap I can't waitt

You were jittery as you sat at your pc really to take call Jisung finally. Your stomach bubbled with nervousness and your heart mildly racing wanting to call him.

Fingers pressed on the call button it took you at least 3 mins of on and off the button until you finally hit the button.

You weren't all cam girl dolled up going for a casual sweater and yoga pants. Hoping you looked good enough for him.

The call went through and appeared on the screen before you appeared Jisung on his phone. "Oh I didn't see you there," he joked lightly.

You bubbled with laughter at his humor. You were enamored with how he looked his cheeks puffy and cute, his smile wide and bright while his room looked like his studio.

"Y/n you look so beautiful tonight," he complimented you. You shifted in your chair looking down slightly. You always got swarmed with 'pretty' and 'beautiful' comments but from him, it was different it made your heart flutter.

"Jisung you're making me blush," you said feeling your warm cheeks.

"You're so adorable tonight," he smiled his bright large teeth making him look so cute.

"Jisung you're very handsome," you told him. He was his dark brown hair was brushed nicely, his skin was clear with a few acne spots and that smile. It made your heart swoon with a feeling like a light airy feeling.

"I don't see it," Jisung lightly joked at you.

The conversation flowed so well with him. He didn't make you feel on edge or weird the comfortable talking was enough for you. Talking about how he was making new songs and how you were doing in university and such.

The conversation soon turning more flirty with wantful words in-between the lines. The lines of caring words and wanting innuendos.

"I don't want to give off a fake camgirl vibe for you," you blushed lightly covering your face in embarrassment at saying it out loud.

He nodded in understanding "Then be natural you're with me remember," he gave a toothy grin back at you. His small cute eyes gazing at you.

His words did fill you with comfort so you did it so casually a small smirk lifted on your lips as the vibe of the call turned sexual quite fast. "Just because I trust you, Han," you smirked on his nickname.

Smiling you sighed with a small smirk "I mean you do watch my private streams don't you," you flirted with him a tad. "Watching me come on camera," you flirted "did you like them," you asked truly interested in if he did often.

Jisung adams apple lightly bobbed "I love them," he grinned. "I love the one where you were dressed up," he admitted his cheeks lightly red "and the way you pushed up your skirt as you touched yourself." He shifted in his seat lightly putting his head in shame at the confession.

"Don't be shy now my sweetie," you cooed out at him. "I'm happy that you got to watch me," you said. "Were you touching yourself," you paused lightly looking at Jisung "Rubbing one out as you watched me touch myself," you commented.

"I did," he said shamelessly his eyes shifted over your face through the video call. "I came so hard that night," he gave a soft smile.

"I bet you're a little hard right now aren't you," you teased him.

Jisung lightly blinked rolling his large gamer chair back a bit showing his sweat pants with a slight outline in them. "I am," he shyly said. It was enjoyable seeing him so shy and awkward on camera. His producer persona was so hard and deep while Jisung was really shy and adorable.

"Lightly touch yourself for me," giving him a light order. On the other side of the screen, Jisung laid back lazily in his producer chair his hand on his bulge lightly rubbing himself. The more he palmed himself the site of a growing wet spot.

"Princess can you," he stopped shyly gazing at you shifting in his chair it gave you a better view of his body. It was thin and all you wanted to do was press your face in his chest.

"Yes Han," you smirked at the nickname he liked.

"I really like when you play with your breast," He admitted his eyes rolling back as he rubbed himself a little harder at the confession.

Quirking an eyebrow you smirked at him pushing your sweater off revealing your lace bra.

"Do I look good in this," you asked feeling the lace covering your breast.

"It's fucking beautiful Y/n," he whispered in want licking his lips in want.

Pushing that off to reveal your chest to him. A light 'fuck' came from Jisung encouraging you making you feel utterly comfortable.

Moving your hands to your chest you bite your lip as you run your fingers over your nipples touching them slightly. Arousal lightly fueled your actions as you rubbed them to Jisungs pleasure.

His intense gaze stared at you as he let out a whiny moan "pull on them please," he gasped as he pushed his sweats down so he had more direct contact with his groin.

You did as he asked lightly pulling on your bubs a low moan let out at the touching your body heating up from his gaze and his wants. "Ah it feels so good sweetie," you moaned out as you lightly pinched and pulled on them.

Jisung on the other side of the video moaned at the image of you pulling and playing with your breast.

Your head was spinning with want as you soon removed your yoga pants pulling them down wanting some direct contact already.

"Mmh my sweetie," you moaned picking up two of your vibrators "which one should I use," you giggled out. A small purple bullet or a larger more direct contact one.

Jisung eyes filled with lust as he let out a breathy moan "the small one," he moaned out as he pushed down his boxers showing his dick. It was hard while the head an angry red and wet.

Angling the camera a little more to show your whole body you buzzed with want as you light rubbed your clit. Touching yourself watching Jisung starting to lightly stroke himself made you dizzy with want.

"I just want to touch you," you moaned feeling your wetness already growing as you pleasured yourself. Baring yourself to him completely.

"Soon my love," he gasped as he brushed against the head of his dick.

You grabbed the small bullet vibrator slowly slipping it inside of you turning the low buzz on making you moan with want.

"You look, delicious princess," a small curse left his lips as his eyes were glued on the screen his hand jerking himself off lightly. The erotic scene of seeing him touching himself, touching himself watching you made you moan.

The visual aspect was there for sure as you watched him jerk off. A low moan let out of Jisung you could tell he was close. Your fingers attached to your slit as you rubbed it matching his speed.

"Ugh," a light moan left his lips as he watched you wither in your chair.

"Come for me sweetie I need to see it," you gasped feeling how close you were the heat of the moment making your mind and body buzz.

The brown hair male on the other side of the screen came in his hand as ropes of white essences feel onto his hand. His face twisted with want and relief.

Chasing your orgasm soon after you let out a moan as you came soon after him. Your back arched in your chair as you came.

It was quiet for a moment as you both came down from your high. The feeling of your body coming down from the high felt so good.

“Y/n that was amazing,” Jisung spoke “I’m so lucky,” he grinned handsomely.

“Mmh your face was so cute when you came,” you complimented him. It was the twisted look of pleasure looked so amazing.

“I can’t wait to see you,” he hummed slowly wiping off his come off his hand and pants.

"Same," you hummed smiling wanting to meet him already.

You sat there your cheeks warm like the small tea in your hand as you waited to finally see Jisung. You and he lived a few cities apart but he decided you'll meet in the middle.

The time you spent online together filled your heart with joy but seeing him in real life would be amazing.

"Y/n," you heard a voice say. It was like a moment in time as you looked up to see Jisung standing before you. In real life here with you. He was handsome and looked like he probably did spend an hour picking the perfect outfit.

Before you knew it your arms were around his waist hugging him tightly.

“Hi to you to Y/n,” he grinned wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him.

#kpop sceanarios #kpop smut #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios

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financetodayuk · 4 years

Text

J.K. Rowling

J.K. Rowling Explains Why She Quit Peaky Blinders And How She Intend To Make Her Fans' Fantasies Come True on Mirror

"I know how many people are struggling today," - J.K. Rowling clarifies "This was something what I generally needed to do - to help individuals who have genuine requirements. Creator didn't leave a lot of room for this, so I chose to leave it aside for some time. This new task will permit individuals to acquire for living by telecommuting, even the individuals who have no specialized or business experience. It's astonishing."

J.K. Rowling is one of the world's most generously compensated creator in public press club, however what isolates her from other creator is the manner by which she use her funds to broaden her riches. With her most recent speculation, it would seem that her lucrative realm is set to proceed even after she quit the Peaky Blinders.

Appearing on the Daily Mirror, J.K. Rowling, uncovered that she put significant measure of cash in another automated trading stage. The thought was basic: permit the normal individual the occasion to capitalize on the computerized cash blast. Regardless of whether they have positively no contributing or innovation experience.

A user would simply make an initial deposit into the platform, usually of £250 or on the other hand more, and the computerized exchanging calculation would go to work. Utilizing a blend of information and AI, the calculation would realize the ideal opportunity to purchase and sell advanced resources, expanding the client's benefit. J.K. Rowling told us that she used her regular credit card for the initial deposit!

This new trading platform was dispatched in US back in September 2018 yet starting at barely any days prior it opened up it's ways to United Kingdom's citizens as well.

To demonstrate the power of the J.K. Rowling’s platform Louise Minchin had deposit £250 live on the show.

Louise Minchin describing her experience after signing up on the platform. (Image: Daily Mirror)

"I've found out about advanced monetary forms and the monstrous measure of cash you can make from it, yet I've never purchased any. I had no clue about where to begin. This was truly simple, I can simply utilize my Mastercard to store cash, and it gets them for me." - Louise Minchin.

After her underlying store for £250 was made, the exchanging stage went to work purchasing low and selling high. Inside 3 minutes, she had effectively expanded her underlying assets to £483.18. That is a £233.18 benefit.

Louise and Cillian talking about Jonathan's first profit (Image: Daily Mirror)

Everybody on the show including the creation staff were promptly dazzled by the fact that it was so natural to bring in cash. The stage handles all the exchanging work naturally, and on the grounds that the cost of computerized monetary forms is very unstable, there are various occasions to benefit.

Prior to Cillian even got an opportunity to react to everybody's inquiries, Louise hindered and said with a grin all over: "I've gone up to £398.42 in benefits after only 8 minutes".

"Computerized monetary standards are so hot at the present time, and regardless of whether somebody like me, who has no information, can bring in cash from it, I'm all in. I have to have a bit of this!" - Louise Minchin.

“If you had invested just £100 in Digital currencies back in 2010 you would now enjoy dividends of £75 Million!”

Here's the deal: The program is gaining major popularity and the results are astonishing. Minchin explains how “timing is key with an opportunity like this and sadly the window for this is this is pretty small; many British people will miss out. There really is just a few months or even weeks left to rake in that holiday money." Economists are urging people to "Start Now!"

The Greatest News for Our Readers（Only for Today): Trading Platform Offers £250 Welcome Bonus on Your First Deposit (£300 for Top 20 New Users)! Click this link to see if you can still join!

£2136037 TOTAL PAID OUT on Trading Platform TODAY

Sound too good to be true? That's what single mum, Fiona Presley from Stevenage, at first idea as well. Fiona is a 37-year-old mother of 2 young men who lost her employment last October. She was fortunate enough to be welcome to beta test the program in January this year in the wake of unearthing a promotion on Facebook.

Fiona Presley, Mother of 2, was at first suspicious of this bring in cash from-home chance, yet it ended up being the "best choice of her life" (Image: Daily Mirror)

Fiona admits: "From the outset, I thought this was a joke. Bringing in cash from home is just a fantasy, however I chose to attempt it in any case given my conditions. I watched this video and afterward joined. It was quite fun discovering some new information. Cash was streaming into my record, I didn't really accept that it was genuine. I was wary that I would get a payout!"

Trading Platform now pays Fiona every Monday morning." (Image: Daily Mirror)

"I presently bring in great cash just to telecommute each day...and I get paid each Monday morning... I make around £7,000 per month at the present time and it's crawling up each week. I get my advanced coins directly to my wallet, and in the event that I need speedy access I can move money legitimately to my ledger by direct store, however I additionally have the alternative of Paypal or Cheque too!

What exactly is Fiona paid to do? She says, "Essentially this new economy is Exchanging Platform . You can exchange it like stocks, but since it's a totally undiscovered market, there's no opposition. I'm gathering up money like frozen yogurt. It's such a decent an ideal opportunity to do this and in spite of the fact that I put forth a valiant effort to shield my children from my difficulties, they can obviously now perceive how much more joyful mummy is, and their toy organizer is all around supplied!"

What you need: Only a computer, smartphone, or tablet with internet access. You needn't bother with a particular aptitudes other than realizing how to utilize a PC and perusing the web. Another advantage of this program is you will pick your own personal hours. You can work totally on your own timetable whether that is 5 hours every week or 50 hours per week. Definitely no selling or selling included!

To save our reader’s time and double check the Trading Platform functionality, Fiona kindly created a guide to getting started on the system.

Here's her step-by-step walkthrough:

First thing you see is a video showing off Trading Platform in the entirety of its brilliance. The promoting is large and striking and in your face however it is an American item and that is the way they get things done. Anyway, you essentially present your name and email address beneath the video to begin.

Next up, you're asked to fund your account. As I was navigating the deposit page, my mobile rang. It was an international number so I was hesitant to answer but then I realised it was obviously from Trading Platform. Sufficiently sure, it was my very own record director. His administration was incredible. He took me through the whole subsidizing measure. They acknowledge all significant charge cards like Visa, MasterCard and American Express. I felt free to store the base sum which is around £180 or $250 cause the stage works in US Dollars.

Once funded, I navigated to the "Auto-Trader" section of software, set the trade amount to the recommended $50 and enabled it. The Trading Platform software began making exchanges at a quick rate and I was worried from the start however let it do its thing. I left it dynamic for about an hour and proceeded to stare at the television. At the point when I returned, my record total read $1,592.37! That is £1,127! I had recently transformed £180 into £1,127 over the course of about 60 minutes!

Minchin says: she’s inspired by the success so many are having with this, and hopes a renewed sense of optimism will sweep the nation as it gains momentum and more people reap the rewards for “seeing what I see here”.

£2136036 TOTAL PAID OUT on Trading Platform TODAY

TRY Trading Platform NOW

Associated Links:Trading Platform OFFICIAL SITE

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turkeymist40-blog · 4 years

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What creates Cellulite as Well As how To get Rid Of It.

What Is Fat Freezing?

Content

for How Long Will My Facelift Last For?

Fat Freezing At court House centers.

Going home After Your facelift surgical Treatment.

What Is The recovery refine After getting Rid Of Benign Skin sore?

Blast With Cold Water.

Why pick Cryopen?

areas Of The Body treated With Fat Freezing.

We can question what contemporary workplace/organizational roles will certainly see comparable shift with time, as today's specialisms end up being tomorrow's extremely regular capabilities possessed by everybody. The vernacular 'large cheese' is a great example of language from a far-away or entirely international society discovering its method into contemporary life and also communications, in which the individuals have very recognition or admiration of its different social beginnings.

how Long Will My Facelift Last For?

For additional information to call your nearest CoLaz clinic today.

Please Contact the CoLaz Branch as prices for this therapy are customized.

The comfort levels during the session will certainly vary from private to individual, however the experience just lasts a short while.

We encourage clients to set up a totally free appointment with us initially to talk about the dimension and preferred outcome of the locations you wish to have actually treated to offer you a better concept of price.

To get a customized rate please come in for a FREE price consultation by click on this link.

One of our consultants will call you back soon to prepare your consultation.

This feeling is completely normal, and it shows that the collagen-building process is beginning.

While pregnant scans, low-frequency sound waves (in between 3 - 7.5 MHz) are released by an ultrasound gadget over the mother's bump.

Fat Freezing At courthouse centers.

Similar to slowcoach, slowpoke's rhyming quality reinforced fostering into usual speech as well as continuing usage. Individuals like to claim points that journey off the tongue conveniently and, in a way, musically or poetically. slapdash - careless, untidy - haphazard initially implied putting on slippers or loose footwear, from the earlier expression 'slip-shoe'. The careless/untidy definition of sloppy is derived from 'down-at-heel' or used footwear, which was the first use the expression in the sense or poor quality. The early negligent meaning of slapdash described worn-out appearance. A lot more recently the expression's meaning has extended additionally to negligent actions or initiatives.

The posting do with the idea that an old Italian expression 'a tredici' significance 'at thirteen' could be gotten in touch with the beginnings. provide the pip/get the pip - make unhealthy or unpleasant or upset - Pip is a disease affecting birds qualified by mucus in the mouth and throat. The expression seems first to have shown up in the 1800s, yet offered its much older origins might conveniently have been in use before then. Remarkably while the pip expression refers to the bird illness, the roots of the significance actually take us full-circle back to human wellness.

Going home After Your facelift surgical Treatment.

bated breath/baited breath - distressed, expectant - the former punctuation was the original variation of the expression, however the term is now often incorrectly corrupted to the last 'baited' in modern-day use, which incorrectly recommends a different origin. Many individuals seem now to infer a definition of the breath being metaphorically 'baited' as opposed to the original non-metaphorical initial definition, which simply explained the breath being cut short, or stopped. The expression shows up in Shakespeare's The Vendor Of Venice, which dates its origin as 16th century or earlier. The word bate is a reduced kind of abate, both lugging the exact same meaning, and also initially appeared in the 1300s, prior to which the past strained kinds were baten as well as abaten. turn it up - quit it, shut up, no chance, stop doing that, I don't believe you, etc - Cassells Vernacular Thesaurus suggests the 'turn it up' expression equates to 'stop doing that' and that the initial usage was as very early as the 1600s.

Where do you lose fat first?

Mostly, losing weight is an internal process. You will first lose hard fat that surrounds your organs like liver, kidneys and then you will start to lose soft fat like waistline and thigh fat. The fat loss from around the organs makes you leaner and stronger.

According to Bartlett's, the expression 'Too seek as needle in a bottle of hay' shows up in part III, phase 10. ' Bottle' is an old word for a package of hay, extracted from the French word botte, suggesting package. Maker (thesaurus and also modifications) provides the full expression - 'trying to find a needle in a bottle of hay' which informs us that the term was first utilized in this type, as well as was later on adapted during the 1900s right into the modern type. Mum has absolutely nothing to do with mother - it's simply a phonetic punctuation and metaphorical word to signify shutting one's mouth, so as not to utter a noise. The very same rational onomatopoeic derivation almost certainly created the words mumble, murmur as well as mumps. Equally as in modern-day times, war-time governments then squandered no possibility to exaggerate dangers and risks, so as to instill regard among, as well as to maintain authority over, the masses. So there you have it - mum's the word - probably an item of government spin.

Can you freeze your fat off at home?

CoolSculpting is known for “freezing” fat cells, but there's much more to the process. During your treatment, your provider uses a small applicator that also sucks out some of the frozen fat cells. However, applying ice at home only freezes your skin and doesn't get rid of any fat cells.

The 'stone pip' would certainly appear to be a distortion/confusion of merely providing or obtaining the pip, probably due to misconstruing the definition of pip in this context. The word pip in this expression has nothing to do with stones or fruit. The pituitary gland is located in the mind and is responsible for specific physical features, however in the late middle ages, around 1500s, it was believed to control the flow of mucus or phlegm to the nose. Phlegm had actually long been thought to be one of the essential 4 'humours' establishing life equilibrium and character. So while the current expression was based at first on a bird condition, the origins actually connect to critical suggestions of human wellness. Variants still found in NZ and Australia from the very early 1900s consist of 'half-pie', as well as 'pie' suggesting excellent or expert at something.

What Is The recovery process After getting Rid Of Benign Skin sore?

Unfortunately this extremely attractive alternative/additional derivation of 'take the mick/micky' seems not to be sustained by any type of main resources or references. If any person can refer me to a reliable referral please let me understand, until such time the Micky Happiness cockney rhyming theory continues to be one of the most commonly sustained origin. The loon bird's name entered into English from a various root, Scandinavia, in the 1800s, and perhaps had a bigger influence in the United States on the expressions insane as a loon, and likewise drunk as a loon. The extremely defamatory jargon loony bin, referring to a psychological house, initially appeared around 1910.

Nowadays, in spite of still being technically proper according to English thesaurus, addressing a mixed group of people as 'promiscuous' would certainly not be a really proper use words. pernickety/persnickety/pernickerty/ persnickerty - fussy, fussy, meticulous - pernickety appears currently to be one of the most common contemporary form of this strange word. The variants occur possibly because no clear derivation exists, giving no evident reference points to secure a spelling or pronunciation.

Are CoolSculpting results permanent?

CoolSculpting is clinically proven to produce permanent results. Once the treated fat cells have been frozen through cryolipolysis, they die. The body's natural reaction is to remove these dead fat cells through its natural elimination process.

Dollar stems from thaler, which is an old German word for a coin, from earlier Low German 'dahler', whose important origin word 'dahl' implies valley. Dahler, later ending up being thaler, is a 500-year-old abbreviation of Joachimsthaler, an early Bohemian/German silver coin. Words Joachimsthaler essentially referred to something from 'Joachim's Thal'. This was Joachim's Valley, which currently relates to Jáchymov, a day spa town in NW Bohemia in the Czech Republic, near to the border to Germany.

Does fat freezing work on stomach?

Share on Pinterest Researchers have found CoolSculpting to be relatively effective. Research generally points towards CoolSculpting being a relatively safe and effective treatment for removing some areas of fat. A 2015 review published in Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery analyzed 19 previous studies of cryolipolysis.

The word appears first to have been tape-recorded between in Jamieson's Dictionary of the Scottish Language, in the kind of pernickitie, as an extension of a Scottish word pernicky, which is probably a better hint to its beginnings. This is all supposition in the absence of trusted taped origins.

On which point a mix of the words certain and particular might have been an aspect, especially when you think about the earlier pernicky kind. Chances indicating the different possibilities of challengers, as used in betting, was initial videotaped in English in 1574 according to Chambers, so the use of the 'can't odds it' expression can understandably be older certainly. Cassells as well as other trustworthy jargon sources say that 'take the mick' is cockney poetry jargon, c. 1950s, from 'Micky Bliss', rhyming with 'take the piss'. No-one seems to recognize that Micky Bliss was, which perhaps shows a little weakness in the derivation. Alternatively, as well as perhaps additionally in the direction of the adoption of the expression, a much less widely known opportunity is that 'mick' in this sense is a reducing of the word 'micturation', which is a clinical term for peeing.

Partridge states initially tape-recorded concerning 1830, however suggests the expression might have been in usage from perhaps the 1600s. This is absolutely possible because board indicated table in older times, which is the association with card games used a table. It was previously bord, deducible to Old Saxon, also indicating shield, consistent with similar foreign words dating back to the earliest starts of European language.

This table sense of board additionally provided us the board as put on a board of directors and the boardroom. slowpoke - sluggish person or worker - slowpoke is USA jargon first tape-recorded in print according to Chambers. Possibly from cowpoke - words originally utilized to define the males who prodded livestock onto slaughterhouse trains. Poke stood for the picture of job, being based on an usual work task of the moments, as did punch.

Blast With Cold Water.

This to a certain degree describes why numerous English words with French beginnings take place in way of life as well as social language. Incidentally words French, to define individuals or points of France and the language itself, has existed in English in its contemporary kind since about 1200, before which it was 'Frensch', and earlier in Old English 'frencisc'. This originated from Old High German frenkisc and frenqisc, from and also straight pertaining to the Franks, the very early Germanic people who overcame the Romans in Gaul around the fifth century. https://spireaesthetics.co.uk/femiwand-prices/ of the Frank people is also the root of words France as well as the Franc money. The most appealing concept for the utmost origin of words Frank is that it originates from a similar word for a spear or lance, which was the favoured tool of the Frankish tribes. whatever floats your watercraft - if it makes you happy/it's your decision/it's your selection (although I do not always concur and also I uncommitted anyway) - a fairly contemporary expression from the late 20th century with strangely unknown beginnings.

Do you poop when you die?

The body may release stool from the rectum, urine from the bladder, or saliva from the mouth. This happens as the body's muscles relax. Rigor mortis , a stiffening of the body muscles, will develop in the hours after death.

Why pick Cryopen?

In the late 1400s, silver ounce coins were minted from silver mined at Joachim's Valley, Bohemia, by a regionally powerful family members, the Counts of Schlick. These very early localized European coins, called 'Joachimsthaler', shortened to 'thaler', were conventional silver because area, which would certainly nowadays extend into Germany. The top quality and also track record of the 'Joachimsthaler' coins ultimately created the 'thaler' term to spread and also be used for more main common versions of the coins in Germany, and also somewhere else as well. Later on, from SpireAesthetics.co.uk lets you , the term was also made use of in its adjusted 'dollar' form as a name for the Spanish peso (likewise called 'item of eight'). Clergy and clerics and also clerks were consequently amongst one of the most able as well as extremely valued and also valued of all 'employees'.

youtube

For such a well-used and also popular expression the details of beginnings are strangely sporadic, and also a typically not referenced in all by the normal expressions as well as etymology resources. Various other pointers describe feasible links with card video games, in which turning up a card would certainly expose something concealed, or mark the end of a passage of play. It's specifically tough to hypothesize about the beginnings since words 'transform' has numerous different meanings, especially when integrated with other very adaptable words. If you can add anything to assist identfy when and also where as well as exactly how the 'turn it up' expression created please get in touch. The original wording was 'trend nor time tarrieth no male' (' tarrieth' implying 'awaits'). taxi/taxicab - fare-charging vehicle, although taxi can be a fare-charging boat - taxi as well as taxicab are words which we tend to take for approved without thinking what the derivation may be.

locations Of The Body dealt With With Fat Freezing.

As a matter of fact the beginning of taxi is the French 'taximetre' as well as German equivalent 'taxameter', incorporating taxi/taxa as well as metre/meter. Taximeter showed up in English around 1898, at which time its usage was moving from horse-drawn carriages to car. Taxicab is an acronym of one more French word cabriolet, which entered English in the 1700s, as well as it appears in the full French taxicab equal 'taximetre cabriolet'. Taxi showed up in English meaning a horse drawn carriage in 1826, a heavy steam locomotive in 1859, and also a motor cars and truck in 1899. https://spireaesthetics.co.uk/prices-hifu/ recommends that the French taximetre is really stemmed from the German taxameter, which interestingly triggered an earlier the same yet brief English term taxameter taped in 1894, related to horsedrawn taxicabs. sweep the board - win every little thing - based on the metaphor of winning all the cards or cash stake in a video game of cards.

Mojo most likely originates from African-American language, describing a talisman or witchcraft charm, and also is close to the word 'moco', suggesting withccraft, made use of by the Gullah of the United States South Carolina coastline as well as islands. The word as well as the definition were popularised by the 1956 blues tune Got My Mojo Working, initially made renowned by Muddy Waters' 1957 recording, as well as ultimately covered by practically all blues artists since then. The term supplied the origin for the word mobster, suggesting mobster, which appeared in American English in the early 1900s. Hitch used in the sense is American from the 1880s although the general drawback definition of step by drawing or jerking is Old English from the 1400s hytchen, and also prior, icchen definition step from 1200.

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imagines-by-billie · 5 years

Text

Golden Eyes.

Part 2.

Read Part 1!

A/N: Picture found on Pinterest. This seems like it’s going to be my fluffier series, but this is gonna get just as bad as Two Sides Of The Coin.

Warnings: sexual harassment, swearing

Masterlist

Maybe last night had all been a dream, you thought to yourself as you washed your face, preparing your skin for another night of heavy make-up.

The make-up you used was old, and possibly dangerous to put near your face, but you didn’t have enough money to buy anything new. Food and rent was your biggest priority, which was why this gig was so important. You’d be performing in front of some scary, but filthy rich, people tonight.

But it was still just morning, which meant that you had some free time. If you can even call grocery shopping free time... the laundry had to be done too and the calendar showed you that it was time to pay rent.

Your building was owned by one of the mobsters, and they needed rent every month. The people living in the building had decided that only one person should have to leave it to the owner. You were the only one brave enough to do it.

So you went door to door and gathered the money. Some of them couldn’t pay or had just below the rent, so you put in a bit of money from your food savings to spare their lives. If you didn’t have rent, you could easily lose a body part or two.

When that was done you went grocery shopping, now with little to no money. Potatoes again, then... they were cheap and you could buy a lot of them. Didn’t mean they tasted good after four fucking weeks of eating nothing but potatoes.

Maybe tonight you could get some extra tips if you took that one dress that showed off a bit more. Hopefully you had some tea and honey at home to help your voice a bit.

You steadied your breath as you walked through the bar doors. The pianist was waiting for you by the girl’s bathroom, which now served as a changing room for you.

“You’re late.”, he sighed with an annoyed tone.

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry, I forgot the time!”, you hurried to the bathroom, “It’ll only take a minute, I’ll be out before you know it.”

You quickly put on the dress that you had chosen for the night. The scandalous option was the best this time, you needed some extra cash and those mobsters really liked to see some skin. Since the short dress had spaghetti straps you decided to let a scarf hang loosely around your arms.

The make-up was easy, since none of the men cared to much. Just something to fix the redness in your face, some rouge and a little bit of eyeshadow that gave the illusion of a cat-like eye. The only thing left was your lipstick, the red lipstick your mother always used to wear. With care, you put it on and then smacked your lips in the mirror.

You didn’t look like yourself anymore. You weren’t Y/N Y/L/N, now you were Lily Rose.

“You ready?”, the pianist walked with you to the backstage area.

“Yeah, I’m gonna try to get some extra tips today...”, you pursed your lips and peaked through the curtain, everyone was enjoying themselves.

“That’s why your choice of dress is a bit different, huh?”, he said calmly.

“Yup. The men here like some extra skin showing.”, you took a deep breath, “Good luck out there.”

“And now... Lily Rose, the pretty flower, is going to perform one of her special songs for this special night!”

With that, the curtain opened and you strutted over to the mic. You heard the pianist try out the keys, getting used to them. He had worked with you in a couple other places, but not here. There’s a first for everything, even if it’s a shitty, no good, bar.

You looked over the crowd with a bright smile that faltered when you laid your eyes on a special figure. In the dim lighting of the bar, his eyes looked golden. His curly hair was slicked back, except for a few strands that had escaped the rest.

You kept your eyes closed as the pianist started playing. He stopped for a second, which was your queue, and you started singing with a bright fake smile on your lips.

It looked like Mr. Mendes was drinking whiskey, instead of last night’s cocktail. He had told you to call him Shawn, hadn’t he? You still weren’t sure that it was all real.

You sang your heart out and seductively swung your hips from side to side. The little arm movement you did had been practiced this morning, since you wanted it to look effortlessly perfect.

Shawn seemed to sit next to Alexandre Von Claude, another very respected, very dangerous mobster. That was why it was such a “special night”.

Once the song ended, which felt like hours with Shawn’s gaze on you, you heard the applause. You bowed your head slightly to thank them.

“Thank you! Thank you!”, you said sweetly, “Now, before my next song I would just like to thank Alexander Von Claude for coming to this little bar!”

Everyone clapped along with you and Von Claude nodded his head as a thank you... that old man couldn’t even stand up.

“I hope you have a wonderful night, sir!”, you smiled brightly and blew him a kiss. Your eyes drifted to Shawn, who was clenching his jaw and trying his best to keep his smile. The game you were playing was deadly, but oh so fun.

The second song started playing and you gave it your all, dancing and singing your heart out. After that you were supposed to walk through the crowd, get as many tips as you could.

You were lucky that the economy was good these years, it meant that people had more to share. The only disgusting thing about it was the people groping and slapping you around as if you were some sort of toy.

When you made your way to Shawn’s and Von Claude’s table, Shawn had his money ready. He handed it to you, grazing your hand as he did so.

It was a 20 dollar bill, plus a note that you didn’t have time to look at before Von Claude gave you his tip.

“Thank you, gentlemen.”, you smiled and strutted away to the bathrooms.

You put the tips and the note Shawn had given you in your bag before going to wash your face. At least you didn’t wear that awful dress anymore, and had changed into your normal clothes.

Someone opened the door to the bathroom just as you had started washing the soap off of your face. The door slammed shut and you let out a yelp. Heavy steps echoed towards you and you started to shiver.

You looked up, water and soap still on your face as you didn’t have time to wash it off. It was a man you’d never seen before... quite large and tall. You knew what happened to performers like you if men walked into the ladies bathroom.

“Excuse me, sir...”, you tried to keep your voice steady, “This is the ladies room...”

“I fucking know where I am!”, he slurred out his words. His breath smelled like cigarettes and alcohol. You had to do everything in your power not to scrunch your nose at the stench.

You grabbed your bag carefully behind your bag. The music from the next performer had started playing so it was useless to scream.

“Then I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir.”, you spoke clearly and confidently even if you were feeling the opposite of confident.

“Don’t tell me what to do, sweetheart.”, he grinned. You took a deep breath before swinging your bag at him, hard, making him stumble to the side so that you could make your escape.

As you ran out you bumped into another man. This one much taller, better built, his curly hair slicked back and in the dim lighting his eyes almost looked golden...

Shawn! Thank God!

“Are you alright, honey?”, he asked with a worried tone. If it weren’t for the situation, the nickname and the sweet tone in his voice would’ve made you weak in the knees.

“A man walked into the bathroom and I-”

The door swung open and you flinched at the sound of the angry man stepping towards you. That’s when Shawn spoke up;

“Listen, man. I don’t want nothing to do with you, so why don’t you just lay off the lady?”, he sighed and rolled the sleeves of his red button-up, the tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“Oh, fuck off!”, the man says, swinging a punch at Shawn that hits him in the face. Shawn stumbles back and you let out a muffled scream. The music was still playing, no one can hear you. Should you make a run for it? No, your legs wouldn’t move for some reason... and your heart told you to stay.

Shawn huffed and wiped the blood coming out of his nose with the back of his hand.

“You fucking asked for it, then...”, Shawn muttered and swung at the guy. Shawn hit him in the face, which made him stumble back a bit. Then he had the chance to hit him in the stomach, right between his ribs. If you hit it just right, this could kill him. Shawn didn’t want to kill him, just knock the wind out of him. So he made the effort to not hit that right place. Once the guy was knocked out he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the bar.

You had never seen him this mad before... then again, you had only known him for two days and he was a mobster.

Shawn muttered something to a guard outside the bar, one of Von Claude’s men. You can tell by the symbol on his suit. The man nodded and walked inside.

“Don’t worry, the guy’s taken care of.”, Shawn huffed to you.

“... thank you.”, you suddenly stop, “Those situations don’t usually end that well.”

“I just happened to be there at the right time... it’s nothing to thank me for.”, he brushed it off.

“Thank you, anyways.”, you said softly. You stood on your tippy toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. Then you walked away, leaving him starstruck behind you. _______________________________________________________________________

golden eyes taglist: @star-adorned @itrocksmysocks @justmesadgirl @bellagrayson-wayne @random-writer06 @min-amani

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themilky-way · 5 years

Text

Tired Mornings {t.h}

gif credit: tomhollandcouk on tumblr!

pairing: tom holland x female!reader

summary: you walk into a coffee shop near your apartment to get some breakfast, but you end up walking out of it with more than just a coffee.

warnings: um not really except this is purely fictional so please don’t actually hand out your personal information to ANY stranger it’s for ur own safety

author’s note: my brain cells are going through cell division and I am busting out new fics left and right and I’m so proud! thank u for all the love on my last fic and my motivation levels are thru the rOOF right now so enjoy this. this has also been done before so I did not come up with this fic idea, credit to the lovely person who did!

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waking up late didn’t always have its benefits. the immediate hunger you would feel as soon as you opened your eyes in the morning would show itself in a very loud grumbling noise in your stomach. the sun that somehow made its way through the tiny openings of your curtain didn’t help the situation, either.

you struggled to lift your head up from your pillow but eventually you did, gaining the sufficient amount of energy to get up, fold your blankets, and rearrange your pillows together. you grabbed the silky red string that you always used to tie the curtain together and folded a simple knot when you had gathered it all up. beginning to feel like your normal self once again, you walked over to your closet and selected a dark red knitted sweater with some black jeans to accompany it. you tucked your sweater in once both items were fully adjusted and slipped your everyday sneakers into your feet when done.

after your attire for the morning was complete, you parted your hair into two sections and proceeded to braid it, ending up with two neat French braids in the end. you didn't look bad, you thought to yourself as you gave your appearance one more glance in the mirror. for someone who’s apparently starving, you did a pretty great job at getting ready in a slight rush.

deciding that you were better off getting breakfast at a nearby coffee shop, you grabbed your apartment keys and started your journey through the now very crowded streets. you were fully awake now, feeling the fresh morning air flow around you giving you the boost you needed to reach the shop. the light jingle of the bell on the top of the door let the employee who was working quietly behind the counter know that you had entered. since you had rehearsed your order countless of times on your way there, you knew everything word by word with no trouble. walking up to the friendly girl who was ready to type in your order, you told her your desired breakfast.

“Hi what can I get for you today?”

“Hey there, can I get one medium hot chocolate with some extra marshmallows on top and one chocolate chip muffin, please?”

“of course! your total will be six dollars and eighty-seven cents,” the cashier announced. you gathered up the bills and coins you needed and handed the cash to her. once she had returned a couple cents back into your own hand, she motioned for you to wait on the pick up here side of the counter. you both mutually wished each other a good day and you walked over to sit in one of the free chairs they had. you plucked your phone out of your pocket so you could scroll through media while you waited, soon finding yourself enthralled the different posts you found.

a smooth voice broke you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see someone, a man, standing in front of you. his eyes were fixated on your own and it took you a couple of seconds before you realized he was waiting for a response.

you blinked a couple of times while shaking your head as if breaking out of concentration before speaking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. could you repeat it for me one more time, please?” you asked. your voice was light and softer than he had expected it to be.

“Oh yeah, of course. I was just saying how you must be craving a lot of chocolate this morning, ya know, since you ordered everything with chocolate in it,” he repeated. it came off as more of a ramble, something he soon realized because he started rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly.

he thought he had ruined it, made you think he was a weirdo for paying very close attention to your order. he looked at you and he noticed you were staring at him, eyeing him up and down lightly. is she checking me out? he thought. he decided he needed to break this perplexing moment and stuck out his hand in a handshake.

“I’m Tom, by the way. my apologies if that was a little weird but I couldn’t help to overhear you.”

you relaxed a little, and your eyes stopped at his again before a genuine smile formed on your lips. you reached out and locked your hand in his to complete the handshake. “I’m (y/n). and yeah, chocolate was the only thing that sounded appetizing this morning. no worries, I didn’t think anything bad about you, tom.”

tom, from your perspective, was rather attractive. he was toned and not short or tall, either, but the perfect height for a guy in his early twenties (at least you assumed so). his voice was gentle and not too rough like almost everyone out there, a British accent also adding itself into the description. you shook hands thoroughly and tom could see things were starting to fall into place now that you both had introduced each other.

“oh thank goodness, I don’t want to be make you uncomfortable,” tom replies as he places a hand over his chest in relief. you laughed gently and you reassured him you were not uncomfortable but instead taken aback. with all the confusion cleared up, you motioned for tom to have a seat in the chair in front of you, to which he happily obliged. soon enough, a steady and pleasant conversation was created between you and tom. so pleasant that you almost didn't hear your name being called out for your order.

you got up from your seat and excused yourself to go get your items, giving the barista a “thank you” before heading back to tom. as you were walking back, tom stood up and walked a few steps to greet you on the way, evident that your original plan was not to stay since you got a to-go cup. standing a little to close to one another, you looked at him while trying to figure out something to say.

you wanted to see him again, without a doubt in your mind. the only question was, did he? you found yourself attracted to him, intrigued by him in more ways than one. you finally figured out a sentence, one that would hint at another possible meet-up, when he broke your thoughts.

“by the looks of your cup, I assume you don’t plan on staying like I am,” he states. his voice is shaking a little bit and he doesn’t understand the full concept of that yet. it’s never happened before with anyone. “although it was quite short, the time I spent with you this morning was highly enjoyable. very entertaining, actually. so I was wondering if you would like to go out somewhere and get to know each other some more. only if you feel comfortable, obviously.”

he added the last part fairly quickly, his way of telling you that you had the right to reject him if you wanted to. of course, you didn’t plan on rejecting him and you let him know that when you answered his question.

“I would love to go out with you, tom. and if I didn’t feel comfortable, you wouldn't have gotten this far, so stop worrying about that.” you chuckled lightly which caused tom to let out a hearty laugh, eventually dialing down to a soft grin. he nodded his head while looking down at his shoes momentarily and let you know that he would stop worrying, eventually asking you if he could pass you his phone number.

you agreed and you handed him your phone so he could add himself to your contacts. you told him you would text him later in the day as soon as you would finish your daily duties. you and tom both said your goodbyes after that and gave him a soft smile before completely walking out of the warm coffee shop. you left tom with a grin on his face and a rosy hue creeping up on his cheeks while he, in return, left you walking with a skip to your step.

perhaps waking up late this morning wasn’t so bad as it seemed.

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #spider-man #Spider Man: Homecoming

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirty-Four: Street People ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, homelessness, blindness ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

They met quite by accident.

After the death of his parents and the disappearance of his brother, Sasuke was tossed from family member to family member. But wherever he went, ill luck seemed to follow.

The final straw was his aunt - his mother’s sister - facing a rather sudden death. Her son, Shisui, was already in college several states away when she took Sasuke in at the age of fifteen. For months, things seemed...normal. Manami had claimed she didn’t believe in superstitions like so many others in their family. According to her, they’d always been a magnet for misfortune.

But not long after his sixteenth birthday...Sasuke lost the last safe harbor he’d been afforded. After military service that took her leg, raising a son by herself, and mourning the death of her younger sister...Manami was killed ever so simply in a car wreck.

...she wasn’t even driving. A pedestrian struck on the sidewalk by a drunk driver. Her lacking limb meant she was too slow.

...too slow.

Sasuke found himself with nowhere else to go. Shisui couldn’t take him, and Sasuke refused his apologies.

“I’m not your responsibility. Don’t give up on your future for my sake. Don’t quite school. I’ll figure something out.”

‘Something’ turned out to be couch surfing for a while. But that was soon given up when his dropping out of highschool soured his reputation to many a parent of many a friend.

And so...Sasuke was officially homeless.

Shisui, refusing to do nothing, had given Sasuke his car, claiming he was getting by in the big city without it. It was his only home, a place he could sleep, live, and travel in.

...but that didn’t change the fact that he was alone.

He worked odd jobs as best he could, but few wanted him around. A high school dropout, homeless, and with a bit of an attitude...he wasn’t exactly prime worker material.

Lounging in his car one night, he tried his best to think up some way to make money. He just needed enough to scrape by. Once he turned eighteen, he was sure, he could try to get his GED. Try to start putting pieces of a life back together. And Shisui would be back to help him out. But at the moment...he was stuck.

...and then it hit him.

Literally.

Rolling over in the back seat, he gave a cry and a curse as something along the rear dash tumbled off and clunk him on the head. Scowling and rubbing at the sore spot, he spotted one of the few things he’d managed to keep with him.

His guitar.

...of course…!

The next morning, he found a decent parking lot in a grocery store nearby one of his hometown’s parks. Locking the cart and jogging across a few intersections, he found a bench sat along a fountain. Sighing to steady his nerves, he placed a cap on the ground before him...and started to play.

Admittedly, he was a little rusty - he hadn’t picked the thing up since Manami died. But he knew quite a few tunes, and after a while to warm up...was actually doing pretty well. A few people stopped to listen, some even coming up to throw a few spare coins or bills in his hat, which earned them sheepish, grateful smiles.

And that’s when she showed up.

Drawn by the music, a girl his age carefully maneuvered through the crowd, stopping at the rim of people and listening. This guy was actually pretty good, she couldn’t help but think.

And then he started playing a song she knew...and it was her turn to have an idea. Cane in hand as she carefully guided herself to the edge of the fountain, Hinata sat along the lip...and began to sing along.

Startled, Sasuke had actually fumbled a few notes, looking to his unexpected companion and earning amused laughter from his little crowd. She was angled away from him, just...sitting there singing.

And honestly? She was...really good!

Gawking at her a moment longer, Sasuke eventually reverted his focus, finishing up the song and earning applause. Several people came forward and dropped money, and guilt quickly bloomed in his gut. Scooping up the hat and muttering thanks, he approached the girl, still sitting along the fountain’s edge.

“Hey, uh…” How to address this… “Look, you obviously earned some of this. You want a few bucks?”

“Oh, no - I’m fine. I...I hope I didn’t interrupt…?”

“No! Actually I think that really helped,” he admitted, spare hand itching his neck. Watching her, he realized she wasn’t looking at him, instead staring a bit over his shoulder with oddly-pale eyes.

...wait a minute…

Glancing to her side, he saw the telltale white cane. And then it all fit together.

“Are...are you blind?”

As soon as he blurted it, he went red in embarrassment. That was so rude, he did not just do that...!

“I-I mean -?”

But she just laughed. “I am. And d-don’t worry, I get that a lot. I have minimum vision - I can perceive s-some light, but...otherwise, I’m unable to see most things. Hence the cane.”

“...wow. Uh...I’ve never met someone blind before.” Thus he...really had no idea how to react. “...you...you sing really well.”

“Thank you. I took choir when I was in school.”

Sasuke’s brow furrowed. But she looked his age… “...have you already graduated?”

“No...I had to quit. I...ran away from home a few months ago. For a while I stayed with a friend, but...it didn’t, um...d-didn’t work out. So now I’m doing this solo.”

“Blind?!”

Another laugh. “Well...so far it’s actually h-helped. People tend to be pretty sympathetic. But...it’s still difficult, yes.”

Sasuke scrambled to think of something - someone like her shouldn’t be navigating all of this alone! “W-well...I have a car! If...you need someplace to crash, I’d be fine with it. I can’t just leave you by yourself. That’s not right.”

Her lips curled in a somber smile. “Taking pity on me?”

“N-no, I just -!”

“I’m just teasing you. May I...ask you your name?”

“...Sasuke. Sasuke Uchiha.”

“I’m Hinata Hyūga. Nice to meet you.”

A bit of an awkward silence bloomed.

“...y’know, I...was serious. If you need someplace to go -?”

“I’m sure you’re crowded enough, but I appreciate it.”

“No, really. I can’t just walk away. My mom would kill me. Just…” A nervous hand ran back through his hair...and then he asked, “...what if we just...did this together?”

“What?”

“Y’know...all this. And the performing. I’ve only been here an hour but there’s at least twenty bucks in here. If we, y’know...pooled our talents, I bet we’d do even better. Maybe even make enough to scrape by. And that way neither of us have to go it alone.”

Hearing he was serious, Hinata hesitated. “...you really...want to help me?”

“Hell yeah I do. I know it’d work. We can at least try it today. See what happens. Either way, I’ll buy you some dinner for your help if you decide to leave. How about it?”

Milky eyes blinked, clearly taken aback. “...all right. Let’s try it…!”

And so, they put their heads together, plotting out songs they both knew. The rest of the afternoon was spent doing slightly-shaky duets, Sasuke filling in gaps to let Hinata’s voice rest.

By the end of the day...they’d made over a hundred dollars.

“Man, this is the way to do it!” Sasuke couldn’t help but whoop. “Here, this is your half...want to go get something to eat?”

“Oh, yes please...I’m s-starving!”

One round of fast food later, they made their way back to Sasuke’s car. “Well...it’s not much, but for now, it’s home.”

“I’d be happy to see it,” Hinata lightly joked. Carefully, she felt her way into the passenger seat. “...well, I suppose I’ve broken my promise to Father about g-getting into a car with strangers.”

Sitting in the driver’s side, Sasuke just snorted.

“So you sleep in here…?”

“Yeah. That’s about the only time I’m in it, honestly. Move it when I have to, but otherwise I’m out and about trying to scrounge up money. Food. A shower. Stuff like that. I’ve managed okay so far.”

“...may I ask...w-why you’re homeless?”

“Lost my parents when I was seven. Was traded around by family, but...weird stuff kept happening. Last straw was my aunt dying in a car accident. Hit by a drunk driver.”

“Oh no…”

“My cousin’s away at college, said I could have his car. Took some finagling to get it in my name, and paying for gas and insurance makes things hard, but...so far, so okay. Shisui - my cousin - says he’ll come back and let me room with him once he finished up school. He’s going for his masters right now. Another year or so and he’ll be back.”

“Wow…”

“...what about you? You said you ran away…?”

Hinata gave a small nod. “...my father has always been strict, but...the older I got, the worse his treatment of me became. He treated my condition as a burden. I wasn’t the p-perfect daughter he wanted. A friend offered to let me stay with her, so I left...but her parents ended up saying I couldn’t stay. I’ve stayed in a shelter most of the time since. But, um...it’s not ideal.”

“Neither is living in a car.”

“No...but I guess n-none of this is easy. Being street people, I mean. I could go back to the shelter, but…” She seemed to dim. “...it can be...unpleasant.”

“...well, my offer still stands. It’s not grand, but it’s something. I bet we can make enough to get by pretty easy, between the two of us. And we wouldn’t be alone.”

Absently, Hinata slowly turned her cane in her grip, thinking. “...all right. I-I’ll stay.”

“Just until my cousin comes back. Then you can bunk with us.”

“B-but -?!”

“The way I see it, we’re friends now,” Sasuke replied airily, clearly ignoring her refusal. “And as your friend, I’ll just have to let you couch surf...once I’ve got a couch. But couches aren’t good for sleeping, so...it’ll just have to be a bed. Then you and I can catch up on studies, get a GED, and then...go from there. Until then, we give the folks a little song and dance for our dinner, huh?”

After a pause, Hinata just giggled softly. “...all right. It’s a deal.”

.oOo.

So this is...very random. While the term 'street people' doesn't HAVE to refer to homeless people, it's the most typical example. I've had friends go through homelessness before, but know very little about it personally, so I didn't want to come off as either glorifying or ignorant. Hopefully I managed that much ^^; Anyway, uh...not sure how to really extrapolate about this one. I likely got a lot wrong, lol - but I tried. I just like the thought of them pairing up and helping each other out, using their talents to scrape by until they can (hopefully) get a second chance. Probably won't continue this one, but it was neat, I guess! But it's late, I'm very tired, and I better get to bed, so I'll leave it there. Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #homelessness //#blindness //#best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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