#throwin some old stuff here

[bearforcecaptions]

The spell worked, sort of, but not how I wanted. I did have the body of my dreams – I was Garrett now, but I didn’t realize the catch was that I wouldn’t be able to control what I’m doing unless I’m totally alone. And Garrett, or, me, I guess – I’m nearly never alone! The frat house pretty much always has someone in it, and I’m super popular, too. I thought being Garrett would be fun and easy, but stuck like this, it’s torture!

I figured out the ritual from this old book I found at that occult shop downtown, thinking it would be a quick way out of my boring life and into something… well, something way more interesting. Garrett had it all, or so I thought. Girls loved him, he was in the best shape, and everyone wanted to be his friend. But nobody told me about this weird restriction, or maybe I just didn’t read that part carefully enough. I guess the idea was I’d “experience” Garrett’s life, but it’s like watching a movie, except I’m the star and I can only move on my own terms when no one else is around.

And god, my roommate, he’s actually so stupid. When I can’t control my actions, we bro out all the time, but he’s so vapid. I guess I’m not much better, but it’s actually infuriating. You’d think we could have a conversation that’s not about girls, parties, sports, or video games. But no, every time he starts talking, it’s like Garrett’s body just falls right into the rhythm of it, responding automatically. I tried fighting it at first, but it’s like this autopilot takes over, and I’m just... stuck.

I’ve been scouring the room whenever I get a chance to control things, like right now, looking for any sign or clue on how to undo this. There has to be something I missed. I rummaged through his messy closet, which is packed with clothes, gym stuff, and random junk, none of it useful. The guy keeps his stuff in total chaos, and I feel weirdly exposed, like I’m actually pawing through my own things.

Shit, no, is that the door jangling? I thought I would have a couple of hours to try and figure out how to fix this. Who the hell knows when I’ll get another chan-

Fuuck, bro. Why’s my roomie home early? Thought he went to his ‘rents for the weekend. I was just about to jerk one out too. Ah well, maybe he’ll be down for some Call of Duty or something. I could use a beer.

“Yo, dude, what’s up? You back already?” I say, grinning like an idiot as I lean against the door frame, flexing a bit without even realizing it. Dude probably thinks I’m just chillin’, but nah, I’m feelin' like a boss.

He laughs, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging. “Yeah, man, got bored at home. Figured I’d head back early. Parents were driving me nuts.”

“Oh, for sure, dude,” I nod, grabbing a can of beer from the mini-fridge by my bed. “Parents, am I right? They just don’t get it, bro.” I crack it open, chugging half of it in one go, feeling the cool rush. Damn, that’s good.

He slaps my shoulder, laughing. “Dude, I swear, it’s like every time I go back, it’s the same speech about responsibility and blah blah blah. Like, whatever, right?”

“Oh, totally, man,” I laugh, shrugging it off. “Why they gotta be like that, y’know? We’re just out here living, they don’t get it.” I toss him a beer, feeling that chill vibe kickin’ in, like nothing in the world matters but just hanging with my bro. This is what it’s all about – no worries, no drama, just cold beers and good times.

“Bro, I’m feelin’ a COD sesh,” I say, grabbing the controller off the couch. “You down?”

He grins. “Hell yeah, let’s wreck some noobs.”

We crash down on the couch, controllers in hand, beers in easy reach, and it’s like all the worries in the world just melt away. I’m trash-talkin’, throwin’ down taunts, and we’re both laughing so hard my sides hurt. I don’t even remember the last time I felt this alive.

“You’re so bad, dude,” I laugh, jabbing him in the ribs as I get another kill. “How are you still this bad?”

“Shut up, bro!” he shoves me back, laughing too, and I’m grinning like an idiot.

Fuck, life is good, I think, as I take a gulp of my beer. I got my bros, I got my beer, and I got my games. What more does a dude need? Life’s good.

[octuscle]

Reorganization of a law student

I am a university student here in Cambridge. My class teacher urged me to study law. He said I had what it takes. I'm the first person in my family to ever graduate from school. No relative has ever even thought about going to university. And if I hadn't gotten the scholarship, I wouldn't have done it either. The stupid thing is that, as an obvious member of the working class, I never fitted in at university. And the scholarship isn't enough to live on either. I thought about taking a job at McDonald's. That's where I meet the people I understand. Even if they think I'm the snob from university now. It's still better than being the working-class proletarian for my fellow students.

Day 1: Monday

What a day it has been. I commenced my new employment at McDonald's. I felt somewhat out of place in my suit, amidst the others in their uniforms. Nevertheless, they appeared to be amicable. However, I found it difficult to comprehend much of their conversation.

The boss incessantly spoke about burgers and fries. I couldn't help but think, "My dear sir, I am well versed in arguing a case; I hardly require a lecture on flipping a burger."

Day 3: Wednesday

I'm gettin' the hang of it, I guess. It's just about flippin' burgers and slingin' fries, ain't it? Not that complicated, eh? So, I meet this dude named Dave, been workin' here forever. He's like a big deal around here, ya know? But man, he talks funny, all Cockney and stuff.

Anyway, Dave's big into bodybuilding and stuff. He's like, "Bro, you gotta hit the gym with me." I might give it a shot, ya know? Need to lose some of this uni weight, man.

Day 5: Friday

So, turns out Dave ain't just into bodybuildin'. Bloke's obsessed with it. He's always talkin' about his protein shakes and them supplements. Keeps tryin' to get me to take some, reckon it'll make me "ripped".

Said yes to goin' to the pub with him tonight. He reckons he knows some places where we can watch the rugby. Never really been into rugby, but why not, eh?

Day 7: Sunday

Last night was mad. Went to the pub with Dave, ended up watchin' rugby and havin' a few pints. Then some bloke started mouthing off, next thing I know, there's a full-on brawl.

Dave was right in the middle of it, throwin' punches like there's no tomorrow. Got a few bruises meself, but it was proper adrenaline rush, I tell ya.

Day 10: Wednesday

Me life's taken a turn, ain't it? Can't believe how much I've changed in just a week. Started takin' them supplements Dave gave me. Dunno what's in 'em, but I feel like I could take on the world.

Been skippin' lectures to hang out with Dave. He's teachin' me all sorts of things about bodybuildin' and rugby. Who knew I'd find it all so interestin'?

Day 14: Sunday

Two weeks in, and I'm a changed man. Used to be all about them fancy words and legal cases. Now, I'm more interested in bench pressin' and pint down the pub.

Me mates from uni are proper shocked when they see me now. But sod 'em, I'm lovin' life. Dave's me new mentor, and I couldn't be happier. Who needs law when you've got burgers, rugby, and a good old pub brawl?

Inspiration by @mchav1020

[toujokaname]

Ephemeral Festival / Prologue

Characters: Kohaku, HiMERU

"Strangely, it appears we're being fawned over."

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Spring

Location: Café Cinnamon

In the second year since ES's establishment, during late April.

Inside the ES Building. At Cinnamon, a coffee shop that has turned into a hangout spot for Crazy:B.

Kohaku: Ahh, this tea tastes so good.

The leaves are real sweet... Spring's in full swing by now, huh ♪

HiMERU: —Oukawa, it's important that you listen to this seriously.

This is an extremely troublesome issue for us.

Kohaku: You say that, but HiMERU-han, it ain't really clickin' with me.

This, uh, "pii-pii-pii" business—what even is it?

HiMERU: ......... (Overwhelmed because Oukawa saying "pii-pii" is just too cute for him to handle.)

Kohaku: ...If you're not plannin' to take it seriously either, then I reckon I'll just head on home.

Even though the year's just kickin' off, I'm swamped with school and other stuff. And I've also gotta catch up on some study prep I'm behind on.

HiMERU: You're so serious. No, let's call it sincere.

In every situation you find yourself in, you always try to do your utmost.

Shiina lacks motivation, and Amagi is always messing around... That's why HiMERU wanted to consult about "this problem" with you, Oukawa, since you're in charge of the conscience in our Crazy:B.

Kohaku: Conscience? So what're you in charge of, then? Sex appeal?

No, wait—is it comic relief?

HiMERU: HiMERU has no recollection of ever providing comic relief or exuding sex appeal.

To reiterate once more, please listen to this seriously without interrupting through facetious remarks.

—Let's try again. How much do you know about PBB, Oukawa?

Kohaku: Like I said, that, uh, pii-pii...

HiMERU: ...♪

Kohaku: ...pii thing, I ain't got the faintest clue of what it even is? It's the same with ES and all. Just throwin' letters together like that don't tell me squat, y'know?

HiMERU: Hm. That's rather unexpected. HiMERU was under the impression that you were infatuated with the internet.

Kohaku: Yeah, I used to be. But like I said, I'm too busy with my personal life and work to have time to be online.

So what's the deal? This "troublesome issue" you keep mentionin', does it have to do with the internet? Did Rinne-han get canceled again?

HiMERU: That's an everyday occurrence, so it's hardly worth making a fuss out of at this point.

Well then, let's do this instead. Oukawa, please try searching on your phone for "PBB Crazy:B" or something along those lines.

Kohaku: Mm, okay... But since we mostly get dragged through the mud online thanks to Rinne-han, I don't like to do much vanity searchin'.

HiMERU: So that's why you didn't notice it. The existence of that abhorrent PBB.

Kohaku: Seriously, what're you on abou... Uh, huh...?

W-Wha? I tried doin' an image search, but it's tellin' me, "Access restricted for those under eighteen"?

HiMERU: Oukawa, how old are you this year?

Kohaku: What are ya, my uncle? You know I'm sixteen.

So if it's blocked for folks under eighteen, is this "P-B-B" thing somethin' lewd?

HiMERU: That's prevalent, yes. Though it doesn't appear to be mainstream, there's an unusual amount of enthusiasm gathered in that particular niche—

Kohaku: Huhh? What's the actual problem here? Just spit it out already! I don't care for detours!

HiMERU: You say that, yet you took a long detour with Double Face.

No, nevermind. That was a necessary journey for you to take, Oukawa.

Kohaku: Huh? Would ya cut it out with this roundabout way of sayin' stuff...?

HiMERU: Let's be direct, then. PBB is something that is currently trending on the internet—what would you call it? A phenomenon? A fad? Something like that.

By the way, PBB stands for "Pastel Bee Brothers."

Kohaku: What's that? Some new game?

HiMERU: HiMERU hasn't fully grasped it either, but... Pastel Bee Brothers, abbreviated as PBB, seems to be the name of a duo consisting of HiMERU and Oukawa.

Kohaku: Ah? When did I form a comedy duo with ya, HiMERU-han?

HiMERU: How to explain it... There happens to be some sort of culture around it. But within Crazy:B, HiMERU and Oukawa have been singled out, attracting odd attention, so to speak.

Strangely, it appears we're being fawned over.

Kohaku: Fawned over...?

HiMERU: There's an easy to understand "summary" making the rounds on the internet, so HiMERU will read it aloud.

[PBB refers to the ship name between Kohaku Oukawa and HiMERU, members of the new idol group "Crazy:B".]

Kohaku: Ship...?

HiMERU: [This name originates from the doujinshi "Pastel Bee Brothers," distributed by XX-shi, a prominent creator within the community of the ship in question.]

Kohaku: ...?

HiMERU: [The quality of this doujinshi was so divinely excellent that it sparked a trend in which the real-life individuals Kohaku Oukawa and HiMERU are viewed as a couple.]

[Clips of their past interactions have been edited and uploaded to video platforms, where they are experiencing explosive growth in viewership.]

[Enthusiasts say: "PBB is no longer just a trend; it has already become a full-fledged culture."]

HiMERU: —That's all.

Kohaku: Umm... So... What's that mean, exactly...?

[ ☆ ]

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[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #302: Senji Muramasa

happy new years, babes! today on Fate and Phantasms we’ve got 2023’s next top saber, Senji Muramasa! he’s a Forge Cleric to make the swords, and a Kensei Monk to draw as much power out of them as possible. as long as they’re katanas.

check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

next up: we already did the genji-killing genji, so… bird up!

Race and Background

yeah, Senji’s a Human. that means he gets +1 Dexterity and Constitution, as well as proficiency in Investigation to figure out swords better and the Fighting Initiate feat for some Great Weapon Fighting, letting you re-roll 1s and 2s on damage dealt by two-handed weapons. that’s not a huge help out the gate unless you really like quarterstaves, but we’ll get there, I promise.

making swords all the time is kind of a Guild Artisan sort of gig, if you squint. that gives you proficiency in Insight and Persuasion. you’ve gotta sell those swords somehow.

Ability Scores

if you want to get all you can out of your swords (and survive long enough to do it,) you need some Dexterity. and if you want to see so good you can look into the future, that’s Wisdom, in more ways than one. third up is Constitution, again to survive all that sword-fighting you’re about to do.  After that, some Strength is in order. Shirou isn’t super ripped, but he’s got some muscle on him. that does mean your Intelligence isn’t that high, but tbh we only need to know about swords, and you do! finally, we’re dumping Charisma. you’re a crotchety old man, you only really care about the art, and you did technically work for the alien god that one time, which is… oof. still, we’re glad you make the heel-face turn when you did.

Class Levels

1. monk 1: i’m sure your sick swordplay skillz actually came after your forging knowledge, but i like living! so we’re going with the class that has unarmored defense first. that adds your wisdom to your ac while you don’t wear armor or shields! no problem! you’re not running around with unlimited chainmail works after all.

you also get martial arts! you can use your dexterity when attacking with monk weapons and your fists, plus you can make an unarmed attack as a bonus action when you attack with your main action! on top of all that, you get a martial arts die that grows as you level up, and all your monk-y attacks use that as their damage floor. if you’re using a weapon with a bigger die, use the normal one. if it would have a smaller die, use the martial arts one!

2. monk 2: second level monks can use ki to dodge, disengage, dash, or attack twice as a bonus action! you get your monk level in ki points every short rest, so feel free to go fast! you also get swordy options for your ki later, don’t worry!

on top of that, your unarmored movement helps you move a little faster than other swordsmen. or it would if we didn’t keep giving swordy people monk levels! still, u go fast, stay out of people’s reach. good strategy.

3. monk 3: at third level you set down the way of the kensei, teaching you the path of the kensei, which is a totally different thing. actually it’s like four different different things. anyway. you can grab some kensei weapons, one melee and one ranged. you get proficiency in them if you don’t have that already, and you can only pick weapons that aren’t heavy or special. grab a longsword for a fance katana, and whatever for the ranged attack. it’s whatever, who cares. not a sword.

while you have a kensei weapon in your hand and make an unarmed attack, you can make an agile parry for free, getting +2 ac for the rest of the round. good stuff for a guy dressed in regular clothes!

*sigh* if you really want to throw things around like some kind of… archer, you can use a kensei shot as a bonus action, making all your ranged kensei weapon attacks deal an extra 1d4 damage that round. funnily enough, this doesn’t need to be your ranged weapon- it just has to be a ranged attack. so even dnd supports emiya being an archer, throwin swords willy and nilly!

you also get the way of the brush. it’s a tool proficiency!

that was a lot for one level, and we’re not even done yet! third level monks can deflect missiles as a reaction, reducing incoming damage from an attack like an arrow or bullet. if you reduce the damage to zero you can even throw the attack back by spending a ki point! we rlly didn’t intend this build to be so archery, i swear.

4. monk 4: use your first asi to bump up your wisdom! smart smarter, dodge tougher, all that jazz. plus you can slow fall as a reaction. when you think about it, falling doesn’t deal damage- landing does. so all you have to do is block the earth before you hit the ground, and boom! no fall damage. genius.

5. monk 5: fifth level monks can make an extra attack each action! more sword! more! you can also turn your melee strikes into stunning strikes, forcing a constitution save on whoever you hit. if they fail, they’re stunned for a round. then you get advantage on all melee attacks against them for a bit! hit ‘em like a big fleshy pinata!

if you’re having trouble hitting, try spending some ki on your focused aim. spend ki points on a missed attack, add to the roll, maybe don’t miss. easy peasy. just make sure you’re spending on stuff that might actually hit, no point wasting resources on nat 1s.

6. monk 6: sixth level monks get ki empowered strikes and become one with the blade, which practically do the same thing! now your unarmed attacks and kensei attacks are magical to overcome resistances. you can also make a deft strike once per turn, adding your martial arts die to your damage roll. more dice! more rerolling! more! more!

7. cleric 1: if you want to make good swords, you need to have the power of god and anime on your side! HAAAAAAAAA! by that i mean ur a forge cleric! when you pick this class, you get proficiency with heavy armor and smith’s tools, one of those does not matter. betcha can’t guess which one! it’s the armor. y’know, the unarmored defense and all.

fortunately, your blessing of the forge is a little better, letting you turn any armor or weapon you touch into a +1 version at the end of a long rest for the rest of the day.

you also get some spells, tho tbh this build doesn’t really care about them too much. outside of like, two spells, your domain list is fine. speaking of, you get Identify to figure out any cool magic swords you find and Searing Smite. swords are cool. fire is cool. fire swords are extra cool, ironically. hit someone, watch them burn for a bit.

8. Cleric 2: second level clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest in two ways. Turn Undead is whatever, we haven’t had to deal with skeletons much since Fuyuki, the real draw is Artisan’s Blessing. now you can spend an hour to turn raw metal into any nonmagical metal item worth less than 100 gold. we’re here for swords, but you can realistically make a lot more than that. you can even duplicate items if you want. that being said, we still have a price cap, so these aren’t masterworks just yet. still, make one of these and apply blessing of the forge, then once a local lord is impressed by your craftmanship you can just pump out regular swords and charge through the nose!

9. Cleric 3: third level clerics get second level spells like Heat Metal and Magic Weapon. annoyingly, you can’t heat your own sword for extra damage, it just hurts you if you do that. ugh. you can also grab one of the two spells I’d want from outside your subclass, Augury. now you can spend a minute sizing up a creature to figure out how well fighting them will go. if you might win, you’ll get weal. if you might lose, woe. you can also get both or neither, and using it over and over again will make the spell less accurate. if you’re really worried about your odds, upcasting smites tends to make people win.

10. Cleric 4: when you finally get another ASI, use it to grab the Slasher feat. aside from just being a cool genre of movies it also powers up your slashing attacks and your dexterity- once per turn, you can reduce the speed of a creature you hit with slashing damage, and now your critical hits give enemies disadvantage on attacks for a round. you are the sword guy, you get sword feats. if I could give you great weapon master in a way that would actually work, I would.

11. Cleric 5: fifth level clerics can Destroy Undead when they use their Turn Undead CD. if the undead in question is CR ½ or lower and fails their save, they die instantly. DEATH! DEAAAATH! or redeath, i guess.

you also get third level spells, like Elemental Weapon and Protection from Energy. now you can get a permanent fire sword that doesn’t constantly make you try to drop it! again, we don’t really need other spells. I mean smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, I’m just saying this guy’s a saber. cleric’s got one of the most stacked spell lists in the game, don’t let me stop you from abusing that.

12. Cleric 6: sixth level clerics can Channel Divinity twice a short rest, and you can use the Soul of the Forge. that means you have resistance to fire damage, and you get +1 AC while… wearing… heavy armor. yeah, these classes don’t exactly match up, as you can see.

13. Monk 7: bouncing back to monk, you can use your Evasion to dodge fireballs too, giving you complete negation on a successful dexterity save, and half damage on a failed one. which is then halved again if you’re actually dealing with fire. they have their moments.

you can also use your Stillness of Mind to counteract an effect charming or frightening you as an action, which is nice since we can’t focus on wisdom in this build as much as most monks.

14. Monk 8: use this ASI to grab the Piercer feat! most swords are slashing, but shortswords are still swords, so we have to be thorough. with this, you can re-roll a die of piercing damage once per turn, and you deal an extra die of damage with critical hits. I prefer the bigger swords, but you do you. rapiers are also pretty valid.

15. Monk 9: ninth level monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, letting you run up walls and over water as long as you end your turn on regular ground. servants get up to some wacky shit, I wouldn’t put this past them.

16. Monk 10: tenth level monks have a Purity of Body that makes you immune to disease and poison. neat. again, something most servants would have if we could afford it in every build.

17. Monk 11: at eleventh level, we get our last goodie from the way of the kensei, letting you Sharpen the Blade. as a bonus action, you can spend up to 3 ki points, adding that amount to your kensei weapon’s attack and damage rolls for up to a minute, as long as you aren’t already using a magic weapon with a bonus to attacks and damage rolls. get the most out of any sword! even a wooden plank is deadly in your hands.

18. Monk 12: use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity again. if you want to get the most out of a sword, your swording hands need to be at their best.

19. Cleric 7: seventh level clerics get fourth level spells. sure, Wall of Fire is nice, but your other subclass spell is fantastic. Fabricate lets you turn any amount of raw materials into a finished product after ten minutes. you can create a larger or smaller object, or medium if you’re making it out of metal or stone. you need better materials for better product, but masterwork products require proficiency with the tools you’d use to make them in the first place- fortunately, you have proficiency with smith’s tools, so you can quicksmith the hell out of these swords.

you also get your second spell we actually want here- Divination. you need to spend 25 gold, but it only takes an action to ask a god a question about something happening within a week. figuring out the future of creatures you’re fighting so you can sever it sounds like a good choice. that being said, your DM isn’t actually able to see the future, so expect some leeway. also, casting it over and over makes it less reliable, so don’t rely on your clairvoyance too much.

20. Cleric 8: our final level of the build is surprisingly busy for once. you get the Tough feat for an extra 40 HP, but your Destroy Undead also affects creatures of CR 1 and lower, and you make Divine Strikes once a turn, adding 1d8 fire damage to your weapon attacks.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

you are good with swords, and you are good with just about every sword. just about any sword that deals less than a d8 of damage gets its damage boosted already, and you can make any sword you touch into a masterpiece of magical damage in a single bonus action. and that’s all before we add in any deft strikes or divine strikes, all of which get their damage rerolled by your great weapon fighting if you’re using a longsword like you should be. you deal a good amount of damage, you’re consistent, and you always get the best shake out of any weapon you use.

everybody wants weapons, and you can make weapons out of just about anything. if it’s metal, artisan’s blessing. if it’s not? fabricate. you can turn anything into a sword, and you make any sword good. it’s also a pretty easy way to make money if you need it. it’s a dangerous world out there, nobody wants to go it alone.

you are incredibly accurate, which is a lifesaver against high AC enemies. with a maxed out dexterity, plus your proficiency, plus a sharpened blade and focused aim, you can add +20 to an attack roll if you really need to hit something. and with smites, you only need one attack to count for a lot of damage.

Cons:

your multiclassing doesn’t quite work together at points. for example, you can’t use blessing of the forge on your own weapon for a consistent boost if you plan on using Sharpen the Blade on it at all that day. also, the forge cleric’s heavy armor stuff just doesn’t work at all, which stinks.

kensei monks don’t use Ki quite as fast as most others, but they still burn it nonetheless. sharpening the blade all the way will cut your ki pool by 25%, all for one fight. fortunately, clerics have cool stuff to use their bonus action on beyond just flurries of blows, so it’s not all bad.

you have low charisma, so you might have trouble getting your money’s worth out of your swords if you plan on selling them yourself. maybe hang out with a bard or something. oh wait, is that why you switched to Guda’s side?

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

So, I went to a national park yesterday with my siblings, and while there I thought over my own little np au, and really got thinking about it when we were stuck waiting for a huge herd of bison to pass by.

So, here’s a fun little one-shot for the au with Crowley, Aziraphale, and wild animals.

Warning: for the love of fuck, please do not approach wild animals of any sort in a national or state park! And do not feed them human food, this is not good for them, and this gets them too used to humans, meaning that they could get hurt, or you could get hurt if you bother them too much.

On with the fic!

--

“You’d think that people would be a bit more considerate about the beauty of this park when, ya know, they’re fawning over it while they toss their trash about.” Crowley grumbled as he speared at a half empty bag of chips, clearly discarded and left for some animal to get into. He tossed it into his mobile trashcan. 

“It is a darn shame.” Aziraphale sighed, following along, gesturing with a finger at a crumpled beer can. It vanished, but it ended up in the can to be tossed away. “We’ve got signs posted all over the park, especially at the rest areas and campgrounds! They’re even in a variety of languages!”

“Humans are just like that, angel. They take this world for granted.”

“Have you ever tossed your rubbish about like this?”

“Ehhh... when I was younger, didn’t even seem to care, didn’t know any better. Auntie Ash got on me about it, put the fear of her into me, been a lot better about it since.” Crowley replied, stabbing more trash with his spiked pole. “And since workin’ here... uhg. Yeah, no. Not throwin’ anymore trash on the ground.”

“Good call.” Aziraphale smiled before frowning, turning his head in the direction of one of the picnic tables nearby. He had noticed something going on out of the corner of his eye (and his unseen Eyes), a bit of excited chattering and activity with a group of tourists. 

He could see a group of young college-aged humans, giggling and laughing, chatting about something they were circled around. A few of them even had out their cellular telephones, and Aziraphale gently put a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “Dear, what are they doing over there?”

“Hm?” Crowley turned, glancing over. “What, that group? Looks like they’re excited about something. Can you see what they’re looking at with your spooky eyes?”

Aziraphale scoffed, muttering under his breath that his extra Eyes were not ‘spooky’. He could see, in just a blink, what the group was surrounding. It appeared to be two raccoons, and they were feeding them junk food.

“Oh! OH! No, no, stop, don’t do that!” Aziraphale shouted, rushing over, startling the group. “Don’t feed those animals!”

“What’re you freaking about, old man?” One of the young men said, and Aziraphale made a face at being called ‘old man’, how rude some humans could be! He was neither old nor a man! “

“Yeah, they came up to us!” A girl complained. “How could we say no to those li’l faces!”

“Easily.” Crowley stated as he approached. “Look, it’s cute and shit when you see people online feedin’ animals in videos from people involved in animal conservation and stuff. I get that, I love that kinda shit, but you are not qualified to do that. And these are wild animals, they live in the park, they’re not at a center or a zoo, or whatever.”

“Yeah, but, like, they’re totally sweet and nice, came right up to us without a problem. Look, they’re not even sick! They like eating oreos!” Another girl smiled at the two raccoons, who didn’t seem to care at all of what was happening, they were busy munching on the treats left within reach.

Crowley slapped his forehead, dragging his hand down his face. “They’re not allowed to eat that. This is why animals get into the trash cans, which, mind you, are meant to have their lids on them, and are not meant to be left open for any number of animals to get into. You want bears? This is how you get bears! And they will not gently eat outta your hands, they’ll bite ‘em off!”

One of the other boys snorted. “As if we’re gonna listen to a janitor.”

“It’s basic knowledge for all park employees, you dumbass! And for tourists as well!” Crowley looked about ten seconds from screaming at these humans like he did his plants and Aziraphale held up a hand, gently patting it against his human’s chest.

“Here, let me handle this, my dear. I’ll talk some sense into these rowdy children.”

Before anyone could say anything, he turned to the group and smiled, ever so sweetly as he felt the Eye tattoos on his arms warm. “Now, if I were you, I think it would be wise to properly pack up all food items in secured containers, especially meat products. Those can be tied up with a rope and strung up in a tree for easy access for you, but it is difficult access for animals. And I think you should clean up all your trash, disposing of everything properly, without any fussing. Oh, and you owe Crowley here an apology.”

The college students blinked a few times, saying apologies to Crowley, all sounding like they meant it, as they started to pack up their food and trash. Aziraphale smiled sweetly still and then gently shooed off the raccoons, saying that there was probably a yummy blackberry bush a bit away from here just asking for someone to eat its berries. 

He turned to Crowley, who looked a bit gobsmacked. “The hell did you just...”

“I’m very persuasive, Crowley.” Aziraphale flashed him a smile before returning to the trash can. “Come along, love, we’ve got to finish this before our date! We have reservations!” 

--

Crowley probably would have gotten into a fight, because from what my sister told me from her own experience working at a national park, a lot of employees were down to fight tourists. 

[wally-friggin-franks]

PART THREE (take two) YOU GOT IT PAL

actually writin' this in my notes, so, uh, hopefully i'll remember the way i wrote some of this stuff-

the biggest story on my mind right now is when henry was tryin' ta work late for the third, maybe fourth day in a row. and i wasn't havin' it. that day i had baked breadrolls, so i just waltzed up to him, gave him some, n' just. talked with him. had a chat, yknow? eventually, i convinced him ta go home and get some rest. i'm glad that i could. i also wanna make those breadrolls again some day- they were one of th' only things i could safely make that weren't too shabby, and they were pretty easy fer me. maybe soon.

the next story was when i was helpin' clean the warehouse. clutter, beams, junk, etc... i was just strong enough to help move this stuff. i wasn't entirely helpless, heh. anyways, i was in the middle of movin' a huge metal beam, it's hoisted onto my shoulder, and friggin' bertie is standin' in my way. now. a normal person would say "hey! excuse me, gotta get through!" but not me. cos i didn't like th' guy. so i just. "accidentally" knocked him unconcious with the beam. everyone believed me, sayin' that i "didn't have th' smarts ta pull it off" WELL I DO AND I DID AND IT WAS ON PURPOSE. take THAT. and the warehouse guys didn't help move anythin' it was just me n' lacie

i think i'll save th' repurposed coat closet story for a while, at least 'til i draw what it looked like. it was awesome. i would make that its own seperate post.

although, i'll gladly tell about the writin' department. usually, that place was dead quiet. could hear th' drop of a pin, and then everyone was lookin' at it. but this particular day, everyone was shoutin' and pointin' fingers, all thanks ta friggin connor wheatley. cos he didn't like alice angel. "boo hoo women character waaah waah weh weh weh BLEUGH." he got punched. i let it happen. after that, i slammed my broom handle to th' floor, and everyone went quiet enough for me to go clean. soon as i left, everyone was back at it again, heh.

if you ever were t' hear susie sing, you'd know the recordings NEVER did her voice justice. sounded like a literal angel. any time she was in a recordin' session, i'd try and clean nearby, cos lemme tell ya- she's gotta be the best out there. her voice had me floored every time. never got old. and she could be a wide variety of characters, too! it was really awesome t' see.

and shawn was th' BEST toymaker. i know about the whole "crooked smile" debaucle but honestly? thought that gave 'em more charm. made it so you could tell which ones would last ya for forever versus which ones couldn't. and just,, the craftsmanship behind it all? was awesome. sure, injury here and there, but each one was made skillfully. i loved watchin' shawn do her thing, they were really good at what he did, y'know? gah.

i really wish i had asked norman about how projectors worked. i would've gotten t' listen to it gush 'bout somethin' it loved, and it would've been smilin' the whole time, AND it wouldn't be mad at me? all around win situation! it was really cool. i can't even properly put anythin' into words it was so cool. the best projectionist in the world ever! n' was just a good guy. awhagwhgr

and henry's awesome, too! the way he could jus' whip up a drawing that quickly, and precisely? you could tell he knew what he was doin'. even the stuff he threw away was awesome. any drawings norman didn't steal, i definetly stared at for a while. he was good at advice, too. all-around a swell guy. he probably didn't have a single malicious bone in his body, in all honesty. couldn't insult his friends if he tried. really sweet guy. makes norman happy, and norman makes him happy right back. sweet, aint it?

jack was one of the best lyricists ever, i think. they could just... immediately get the vibes for a song, n' put it into words. it was really cool! again, what is it with people throwin' stuff away that was still REALLY good? all the lyrics they wrote had some swing to 'em, and just matched the feel of the song perfectly. good tempo, good use of phonetics, etc. just awesome. tried not t' disturb jack while they worked, though, so i mostly admired from afar.

prayin' tumblr doesn't eat this one. if it does, got it saved in m' notes, cos norman said to do that. its really smart :]

[sphxremint]

Top 5 Celeste levels, official and/or fanmade.

ooh. this is tough... but i can do that. here we go

minge's top 5 [official] celeste levels

#5. 6A // Reflection

oh yeah. the exposition level. it's got my favorite crystal heart puzzle, adds at least 3 of my favorite mechanics in the game (kevins, feathers, bumpers) AND it's got a whole boss fight in it where you, quite literally, confront yourself. it's such a cool setup for chapter 7 as well

#4. 7A // The Summit

champion's road but celeste. i love this level. Reach for the Summit is actually one of my favorite songs from this game solely because of how well it translates every past level's theme into this cool, unified, progressive melody. also combining all the levels like this is just such a cool idea, especially the little interactions madeline and (not) madeline have with each other.

and the final part一especially when it comes to a casual runthrough or speedrunning一 is SUCH an adrenaline rush; every time i get there, i'm always thinking "you can do this". it's like you magically just gain the determination to keep going

#3. 2A // Old Site

this is really here because of bias. i think this chapter is neat and a very nice setup for some other stuff later on. but why is it here though?

dream blocks get introduced. it's my favorite gimmick. there's so much fun to be had with them, no matter how good you are at the game. as someone who's already kinda... cracked, i already know a lot of stuff you can pull off. dream jumps, dream grabs, dream hypers, to name a few... and don't get me STARTED on what mods do to it

#2. 8C // Core C-Side

champion's road but short. in the sense that, while C-Sides are only like 3 rooms, the last room is just a fusion of (nearly) every single gimmick you've been shown up to this point, INCLUDING Core's hot/cold gimmick.

to be completely honest, i hate Core with every fiber of my being (gameplay-wise. i think when it pertains to anything else it's actually very cool). i hated 8A and 8B on my first runs through them... but this was (and is) the one exception.

also you learn how to do hypers.

#1. 9A // Farewell

chat. need i say more

it's champion's road but for real. and you get to go to SPACE

story so good it almost makes you cry with symbolism done severely well, music so good it makes you feel every emotion all at once (i even REMIXED Farewell the song i love it that much), and gameplay so good that, despite it being intense on the first run through, is genuinely very cool and fun once you get it down. no other celeste level could ever do a "final room" like 9A did. plus you even get taught how to wavedash (via POWERPOINT i must add)! that's like, the coolest tech in the game... and the aesthetic?

it's SPACE bro who doesn't like space. you're throwin weird space jellies and jumping on space pufferfish and dodging space starfish. there's quite literally a black hole eventually. also you can breathe and there's a bird up here that WON'T STOP RUNNING AWAY

once you beat it, you become changed forever. nowadays i can beat it in like 35 minutes... but i'll be damned if i ever attempt "the farewell golden". i know my limits

i would've definitely given my favorite modded levels; there's a lot of them i know were good, but i couldn't recall anything specific about them in particular, so i just... didn't

i'll probably add it on to this post some other day

[dedfandom-xwx]

Hey this is me rambling at 4am so if you don’t wanna hear my random stuff then just skip over this post, but if you do then read under the cut. Idk what this is gonna contain and it might turn into a vent or get very opinionated so please so hate on me I just wanna ramble 😭👍

Okay but like can we just talk about Noel Gruber and Mischa for a second? Or like, Eddie Dear and Frank Frankly? I just realized Eddie and drink don’t have the same last name even though they’re married. I know some people like don’t change their name and that’s like totally cool and everything like no shame but I had no clue at first that they were married. Do they even have rings…? Idc if they do or not their designs are so friggin cute. I wanna hurdle a specific VR skin of Eddie into a wall though.

ANYWAYS, Noel and Mischa, am I right? That is true best friend energy right there. So silly goofy. A angry SoundCloud rapper and a romantic gay being. I never thought better energy would come from two characters.

i started to try animating. I made a little Home animation and I’m hoping to post it soon. Took me about 2 hours. It’s my first ever animation I’m actually a little proud of so please no throwin shame 🥲

ALSO I also wanna talk about how funny some of the word in the English language are. I know we kinda steal a lot of words from other places and like a lot of Latin words and stuff like that. But tell me, how in the fresh heck did we come up with words like the ones in science on the table thingy that I can’t spell correctly the one with all the boxes and colors and stuff?? (I know what it’s called but i just can’t spell it.)

Oaiajekeowowiwiwiwhwhwhwjskaopworurhrnxnxnxncgdbsjslalwiw

the current worm in my brain: Tick, Frank Frankly, and Sam Winchester for some reason??

man do I love supernatural. I also really like Friends and Big Bang Theory and Good Omens and Unsolved Mysteries and stuff like that. THATS what you call quality content.

i wish people would ask me more questions. Random Ik. I hate talking about myself but I like to answer peoples questions. Is there something wrong with me for that??

i really should log off and get some sleep but I don’t feel like it. This is a loooooooong ramble. I should probably shut up or som.

OKAY but physical pain. Like why. I just want to ride roller coasters and not feel like I’m gonna cry every two seconds when I’m trying to sleep.

when you meet a buisness man you must stake him by the hand

I wanna lick a book. Like one of the really old ones with canvas covers. Feel like it’s taste good.

I feel like Sundrops pants would be such a bad texture. Probably grimy and yucky and like a potato sack.

YUPPEE

In my life, I was Noel Gruber who worked at Taco Bell in Uranium City, Saskatchewan. But in my dreams I played a different role. I was Monique Gibeau in post-war France!

not gonna say the next line cause it’s a bit SuGeStIvE I guess

why are suggestive songs such a bop. Like you take away the lyrics or listen to piano versions and I’m head banging like I’m at a rock concert like it’s that good. For example, Say No To This from Hamilton. Or ofc, Noel’s Lament from RTC. BANGERS BRO. As an ace person, yeah a little uncomfy BUT THEYRE SO GOOD WKSGSISNWBSOSK

I wanna eat fries

I need sleep

WE ALLLLL HAVE A WOOOOORM IN OUT BRAAAAAAAAAAIN

I’m legit crying over SIOB rn why am I like this if didn’t even watch the episode kasoajwosgsiswdns

imma try to end this ramble here. If you make it this far, you’re amazing. Hope you’re having a nice day/night/evening/afternoon! 🫀🫀

and an apple for Wally 🍎

🚪🏃

[itsrainingrobins]

love this dude

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 1 Sakamaki Ayato [Track 1]

Original title: 穏やかな日々

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 1 Sakamaki Ayato

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru

Translator’s note: I’m so excited to be able to deliver the latest installment of the DL Drama CD series to you guys! I honestly did not expect to be able to do it this early but I was able to get the CD for really cheap myself so here I am! I already listened to the CD once to write up a summary which honestly helped me out a lot. I still knew some of the lines and events when I got to translating it in detail, which sped up the process by a lot! uwu 

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 1: Peaceful Days

Ayato stands on top of Kaminashi tower.

“...What a nice view. Guess this old, worn-down tower isn’t too shabby to look down at the city. Hehe...”

He looks down.

“Hah. When lookin’ down at them from above, everythin’ really looks so tiny and insignificant. So pitiful, I’m almost brought to tears. Haah...All because of that stupid lil’ human, I’m thisーー ...Ugh... Pathetic. ...I need more...of her blood...Kuhーー!”

*FLASHBACK STARTS*

Ayato is sucking your blood in the living room.

*Sluuuuurp*

*Rustle*

“...Heh. Why you lookin’ at me like that? Are you that upset I attacked you in your sleep? You’ve only got yourself to blame for snoozin’ on the couch in a house full of a Vampires.”

You try and defend yourself.

“Like I give a damn! Whether you were tired or not, you’re basically beggin’ me to jump you. Prey that lets down its guard can’t complain ‘bout bein’ devoured like this. Just give up.”

He continues sucking your blood.

*Sluuuurp*

“Stop makin’ a fuss. ...Or do you want me to suck you even more, perhaps? From this throat? ...In that case, I’ll gladly grant your wish.”

*Sluuuurp*

“Hehehe...That’s a nice expression you’re making. Show me more. Mmh...”

*Sluuuurp*

“Hah...You’ve got that dreamy look in your eyes. ...Despite all those complaints, in the end you still enjoy it, huh?”

You tell him to stop.

“...Eh? You really think I’m satisfied with that much? Besides, you don’t have the right to defy me. Just behave and enjoy the ride.”

*Sluuuurp*

“ーー Hah! ...Not yet...I still haven’t had nearly enough.”

You insist that you’ll go crazy if he doesn’t stop soon.

“Hehehe...So what if you go crazy? If you think that’s gonna convince me to let you go, you’re way too naive. (1)”

You continue to protest. 

“I’m sure you know that very well, don’t you?”

*Sluuuurp*

“...Che! Geez, throwin’ in the towel already? What’s with that attitude when I’m out here givin’ you my full attention?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Heh. ...Too late to apologize now.”

You apologize again.

“Stop sayin’ sorry already! ...Actually, in that caseーー”

*Rustle rustle*

“Haah...Whatever. I’ve lost interest.”

You frown, asking why he is upset. 

“...Fuck off! I’m not upset! ...And stop pokin’ me! It tickles! Lay it off!”

*Rustle*

“Don’t try and get cute with me! ...Anyway, haven’t you been droppin’ a lot of weight as of late? Are you eatin’ properly?”

You ask if he is worried about you.

“Haah...? I’m not worried or anythin’...! I just prefer my girls to have some meat on her bones, that’s all. Right now your tits are so pathetic, it kills my appetite.”

You chuckle.

“...Oi! You laughed just now, didn’t you? Dependin’ on your reasoning, you won’t get away with it! Tell me!”

You explain.

“...Aah!? You think I’m kind!?”

You tell him he stopped sucking your blood because he must have been worried about your health. 

“I just told you I’m not worried, didn’t I!? I only stopped because the mood got ruined! Don’t assume I wouldn’t suck you till the very limit! Stop gettin’ ahead of yourself! It’s totally different! Idiotー! Ms. Misunderstanding Chichinashi! (3) Don’t you ever dare say such stuff again!”

You play off his complaints. 

“What’s with that haphazard answer!? Are you mockin’ me!?”

You giggle again.

“ーー Geez! Get off your high horse already. Hmph! ...Ah, fuck, this pisses me off. Meanwhile I’m over here strugglin’ ‘cause I’ve been more thirsty than usual as of late...Haah...”

You offer to drink some juice. 

“Don’t be fuckin’ kiddin’ me! I wouldn’t be sufferin’ this much if some juice could do the trick! ...You’ve been pokin’ fun at me this whole time, haven’t you? Your blood is the only thing which can quench this thirst. Yet you’re bein’ all stingy with it...Ugh! Geez! Isn’t there some other way!? ...Something that’ll lift my mood at once! Take your responsibility and put some serious thought into that! Things turned out this way ‘cause of you after all! If you can’t think of anything, I’ll suck your blood!”

You immediately think of something.

“Oh? What is it? Tell me.”

You offer going on a walk together.

“Ah? A walk? Listen up…Were you even listenin’ to what I said!? I told you I wanted to do somethin’ to lift my mood, remember? So how exactly will a walk lift my mood? If anything, it’s gonna fuckin’ ruin it! Don’t be kiddin’ me! ...I don’t give a damn if you recently discovered this place or not, che…Anyway,  it’s a no.”

ーー Well then…Guess it’s time for your punishment?”

You try and reason with him one more time.

“Nah, I’m not waitin’ and I’m not goin’ either. Even sleepin’ would still be better than that!”

You pout.

“…The fuck you gettin’ all depressed for?  Ahー Geez! Fine!! I just gotta go, right!? Fine, fine, guess I’ve got no other choice then. I’m a total gentleman after all!”

You thank him, smiling.

“...Hmph. Look at you gettin’ all happy over small things like a lil’ kid. Ah, but...”

Ayato looks out of the window.

“Take a look. It’s pourin’ like crazy outside. Doesn’t seem like it’ll clear up any time soon either. Havin’ to go on a walk with our umbrellas seems like way too much of a chore.”

You ask if you can go on a walk some other time. 

“Fine. Next time then, okay? ...It’s a fuckin’ pain in the ass, but whatever.”

You seem happy.

“Don’t rejoice just yet. You’re draggin’ me outside, so you’ll at least make sure I’m entertained, right? If not, I won’t have any mercy. You better be prepared to get sucked dry by me if it’s boring. Hahaha...Suddenly I’m lookin’ forward to this.”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 甘い or ‘amai’ usually means ‘sweet’, but it can also be used to call someone ‘weak’ or ‘naive’. 

(2) Ayato literally says something along the lines of ‘the parts which can stick out should do so’, which refers to curves (or the lack thereof) on girls. 

(3) In Japanese, he calls her 勘違いチチナシ女 or ‘kanchigai chicihinashi onna’ which literally means ‘misunderstanding titless woman’. 

[post-nuclear-sweetheart]

Tranquille Moments In Chaos (1)

The start of several moments that fill in the gaps of developing a friendship, then relationship, with Hancock.

Hancock x reader/sole.

Find it on ao3 as well!

(1853 words)

“Come with me.”

You had begun to question your sanity before the words fully escaped your lips. You leaned against the wall of the State House in Hancock’s disorganized bedroom, attempting your best not to look like a complete mess inside.

You saw how his blackened, clouded eyes looked you up and down. It was casual, and it reminded you of how the “cool kids” - you deemed them - would look through your flimsy persona back in high school. His dry and malformed lips stretched into a grin, and you could see amusement play across his face.

Hancock let out a short, breathy chuckle, before reaching into his back pocket of his trousers for the crumpled pack of cigarettes. “So lemme get this straight,” he started as if you were merely having a casual conversation. He pulled out his lighter from his other pocket, leaving you hanging off his words, until he lit up the cigarette and took the first drag.

“This is your… what, second week? Roamin’ around the Commonwealth like a stray dog?” That amused look slowly turned into a scrutinizing smirk. “Fahrenheit told me all about how you turned on Bobby. Can’t even hold a gun without the recoil throwin’ your arms all over - and you wanna run with me?”

The heat of embarrassment crept up to your face. True, you still weren’t terribly handy with a gun, despite your ex-spouse having military experience, but you made plenty sure they kept that sort of violence outside the house, what with the arrival of your newborn. Oh, how you would come to regret that rule.

But if there was one thing you were good at, that you honed over your college years, was how to fake confidence. You steeled yourself and pushed off the wall, standing your not-so-tall stance against Hancock. Sure, your cheeks were still very red, but you fronted a coy smile and a raised brow.

“I dunno, Hancock. You said it yourself - you’re soft. I may have been out here for a few weeks, but you’ve been lounging around longer than I’ve been surviving. Are you sure you can run with me?”

You stared into his dark eyes, appearing so sure of yourself. You began to falter inside, however, when his playfully degrading look turned to one that was serious. He took another painfully slow drag, starring you down all the while, then blew a puff of smoke into your face. You suppressed your cough, but the tears from the stinging smoke escaped.

Hancock chuckled darkly. “I can admire a babe willing to stand up to the man. Alright, hot stuff. I’ll tag along and maybe give you a few pointers.” He winked at you then, deciding he was done with his half-burnt cigarette, tossed it down and squished it out with the heel of his boot.

“First I gotta address the people; give ‘em a big mayoral speech. Don’t wait up.” He pressed the tip of his tricorn hat down, as a way to physically show he was switching over to his “business side”, and disappeared through the white door next to the wall you had leaned next to.

You released a sigh. There was no way you could keep up that air of confidence for long, especially around the man who radiates pure confidence. Pair that up with his natural ability to remain cool and keep it all from going to his head, and you looked like a nervous teenager on the first day of work next to him.

You heard the guards that stood outside the door to his bedroom snicker. You didn’t blame them. There was one thing that made you feel a little better about devolving into a mental puddle around Hancock. Irma had told you all about how he used to be a major hit with the ladies, and sometimes the gentlemen, and it wasn’t unusual when a person or two would fall at his feet. Of course, this was all before he turned into a ghoul, and yet…

Something tells you his ghoulification only amplified his charm.

-

He made good on his promise, even if it was made in jest. In your days wandering with this alluring ghoul at your back, he had taught you how to properly hold your 10 mm gun, and when you felt ready for rifles, he taught you how hard to press the stock against your shoulder and how to safely handle them. Although seeming to be intimately familiar with most common place guns, he himself preferred the ol’ reliable shotgun.

You’ve also come to be acquainted with his way of life and his morals. He lived up to his self-proclaimed title of “freedom fighter” with his rebel-rousing, tough guy nature who kept an eye out for the little man. He tried telling you after he shanked Finn to death, but you didn’t quite believe it then. A mayor, fronting as a freedom fighter? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t until one dark day with a downpour to rival a waterfall that would change your mind.

After one particularly bad firefight, you both found shelter in a half-dilapidated, vacant home. You had a friend in this neighborhood many years ago, although he moved away to another town to attend high school.

You sat on a dust covered cushion near a fairly in-tact windowsill, watching languidly as the rain fell heavy. One leg was tucked under you, while you stretched the other so that Hancock could remove the bullet deeply embedded in your thigh. You didn’t feel much of his makeshift surgery, what with the drug concoction he fed you. You were more entranced by the rainfall, and how the droplets pattered on the crumbling road not far from the house. The only light you had to serve was the half burned candles from the last squatter at the residence; five waxy candles that illuminated a warm, flickering orange against the cold darkness of the rest of the house.

“Hancock?” You quietly called for him, never moving your stare from the outside world. He hummed in response.

“Did you-“ you paused yourself. Your drug-filled mind struggled to figure out how to word your question. “Were you… Did you grow up here, before the war?”

Although the pain was completely numbed, you did feel an intense pressure from his work. You felt that pressure stop momentarily, before starting again.

You heard Hancock let out a scoff. It didn’t sound rude, but baffled. “What makes you think I’m one of those pre-war ghouls?”

“You’re a ghoul.”

Hancock laughed quietly. “Would you believe me if I told you I’m in my thirties?”

“Thirties?” You lulled your head, rolling lazily on your shoulders to face Hancock. Your vision was blurred by the pain killers, but still you could see the deep ravines in his skin. His eyes appeared exceptionally black, and where his nose rotted off long ago appeared darker. At the sight of what would have frightened you 200 some years ago, you smiled. “You look amazing for your thirties.”

“You should’a seen me before.” He looked up to wink at you, before reaching for a roll of bandages he kept hidden away in his coat pocket. “Drugs are a hell of a… drug.”

“Drugs can make you a ghoul?”

“Not just any drugs. This stuff,” he blew air from between his recessed lips as his mind dove back into his memories. “they didn’t even have a name for this stuff. Picture it - a vial of this scary glowing liquid that promised to give you a high that was outta this world. And get this, there was only one more hit of it left. You know what I did, doll?”

There was something so charming, so endearing, about the way he spoke. It was old school, but his rumbling voice, no doubt caused by their decay via radiation, kept you enraptured. Your smile grew more silly and enamoured. “What did you do, Hancock?”

“I shot it up.” He began to wrap the bandages around your thigh. “Lemme tell you, there’s nothing else in this whole damn world that’ll make you see - no, feel - the things I did. Everything else pales in comparison.” He tied them off with a yank, and gave your leg a light pat before continuing his story. “‘Course, it came with a price. That price is this gorgeous mug you see before you.”

You giggled at his display of gesturing to himself and giving you an exaggerated smoulder. He shifted over to the cushion that was beside the one you sat on and took his place beside you. You came to an agreement to wait, guns ready, for the rain to pass before moving on. Hancock leaned his back against the wall from where he sat, and in your drugged-up haze, you slumped over against him.

“Good Neighbour didn’t mind a ghoul for a mayor?” You asked, unaware of how your line of questioning came across. Still, Hancock answered freely.

“I wasn’t a ghoul yet.”

“How did you become mayor?” You asked him, moving your head to look up at him.

Seeing no harm in telling you, Hancock regaled you in the bigotry of Diamond City, and the reign of terror Vic held over Good Neighbour. He told you, laughing through it as he explained how the red coat of John Hancock could speak to him, and with the courage of drugs and a take-no-bullshit attitude on his side, he and a group of fed up people stormed the town hall. He went into gruesome detail of gunning down Vic’s men, and how they tied a noose around Vic’s neck and hung him over the same balcony Hancock would give his speeches. It was then, with unanimous decision, that John Hancock became mayor of Good Neighbour. It stayed a safe haven for everyone Diamond City rejected, and the rest was history.

It was then, as you stared up at Hancock with a mixed look of disbelief and admiration, that you truly believed he was, and is, a freedom fighter.

“And you traded a life of gunning bad people down for office work?” You nudged him playfully.

“Hey, I can do both, can’t I? Good Neighbour’s full of good people. They can fend for themselves while their fearless mayor cuts his teeth on some raiders.”

You attempted to nod in agreement, but found your head heavy and comfortable against his shoulder. You let out a yawn, the last thing you remembered, before the haziness you felt finally took over your senses and dragged you to sleep.

Hancock glanced your way and lightly chuckled at your slumbering form. He gently moved your wrist in your lap to peek at the time on your Pip-Boy. It was getting well into the evening, but still it was early enough that raiders and gangsters didn’t roam quite yet.

He reached up to tip his hat down over his eyes and slouched against the wall. There was a long night ahead of you both, and if there ever was a time to nap, a dark rainy evening was certainly it.

“Sweet dreams, vault dweller.”

[strabbyshortcake]

champy’s charhouse

Gramble and Boots meet for the first time.

tw for mild violence.

Champy’s Charhouse sat smack dab in the middle of a whole lot of nothing, along a lone strip of highway that ran east to west through vast cornfields and strips of forest and swampland. True to its name, the steak was always overdone, but the potato skins were to die for.

Gramble usually went with one or more of his housemates, but Wambus was tired, Triffany was busy with grading papers, Yosie had a cage match tonight and Bronica had plans with her girlfriend already. That was alright, though. Gramble could have a good time on his own.

He borrows Triffany’s car, pulling up in the dusty parking lot as the sun’s about to set. The parking lot is already full of various mud-splattered beaters and pickups, many of which he recognizes. Funny that he could think of himself as a local now and feel a hit of pride about it. The bright orange neon sign buzzes above his head as he walks in, heading right for the bar to find a seat with a good view of the stage. True to form the place smells like burnt meat, but even as a vegetarian, it’s a comforting smell, mixed in with sweaty fur and soil and beer.

Triffany had gotten him into one of her favorite rock bands, the Velvet Knives, so he’d borrowed one of her old band tees to wear for the sets some of the local bands were playing tonight. He settles in, orders his potato skins and a coke, and watches as the first band gets their equipment set up. Once the music starts, everybody seems to be having a great time, clapping or singing along. That is, until the front row starts getting restless.

“This sucks!” calls a bright orange grumpus from the bar several seats down. His buddies laugh, a few of them hurling their own insults to the irritation of the other patrons. Several of them wear jackets with the letters of a nearby college fraternity on them. Rowdy college kids were nothing out of the ordinary though. Gramble was sure they’d be kicked out if they kept on heckling.

The band, in good humor, plays on, finishing their song before the singer decides to address them. “Sounds like we got a couple ornery hogs in the audience,” she says, grinning, showing her fangs. “Well, ain’t nobody keepin’ you here. If you go on squealin’, someone’s liable to shut you up.”

One of the frat kids hurls a bottle. It smashes against the back wall of the stage.

“Hey, now!” the band’s drummer calls, ducking. “C’mon, there’s no need for that!”

The grumpus next to Gramble, who seemed to be a part of that group, grabs his own bottle and starts to move his arm back. Gramble grabs him by the wrist, using his other hand to yank the bottle out of the other grump’s paw. “Cut it out!” he tells them, baring his own teeth. Out the corner of his eye he can see the two coolers the bar employed moving toward the bar. They’re both big, but so are the frat kids…

The guy he’d grabbed snarls, ripping his arm out of Gramble’s hold. He’s got golden fur, and two sets of slightly-crooked fangs. “You want me to throw you instead, pipsqueak?”

“You wanna lose a hand?” Gramble snaps in return. “Quit actin’ like you were raised by raccoons, you goddamn fool!”

He hears glass shatter as one of the other frat kids jumps off their stool, swinging a paw at the cooler who’d reached him. The rest of them seem to take this as a sign to do the same, converging on the coolers with teeth and claws bared. However, Gramble doesn’t see what happens next as the grumpus next to him grabs him under the arms and slams him onto the bar. Gramble yelps, coughing as the wind is knocked out of him.

“You hicks take everything too personal, you know that?” The frat kid growls, looming over Gramble. “Ain’t even worth it to bite you. I’d probably get some kinda disease.”

Gramble kicks him in the chest. He grunts and staggers a little, enough to give Gramble a second to sit up, only for the frat kid to come back and punch him directly in the nose. Gramble sees stars, reeling and nearly tumbling off the bar, digging his claws into the marked wood of the counter to keep himself from falling. Blood dribbles from his nose and lip, bitter and metallic. Hopefully the jerk had cut his knuckles on one of Gramble’s teeth.

Still dizzy from the punch, he feels strong hands seize him by the shoulders and twists around, blindly snapping his jaws shut over frat kid’s arm. The frat kid curses, grabbing Gramble by the neck with his free hand. He digs his claws into the thick ruff surrounding it, either to try and yank Gramble’s jaws off or strangle him. Gramble had let his fur grow long and shaggy around his neck and shoulders and it thankfully keeps those claws from getting in too deep.

“Asshole! You’re gonna wreck my jacket!” he hears the frat kid cry as they struggle together. Maybe, Gramble thinks, he should have thought of that before starting a bar fight. In the darkness of the roadhouse he can see the other kids still embroiled in a brawl with the coolers and several of the other patrons, though it’s impossible to tell who’s on what side by now. Nothing he can see but a lot of flying fur and flashing fangs under the neon lights. He shoves the frat kid’s arm away from his neck, wincing as those claws tear some of his fur out.

A building roar from outside catches the attention of some of the patrons, who extract themselves from the brawl and look towards the door. It’s the guttural growl of a motorcycle, a huge one from the sound, drawing closer until it stops in the parking lot and sputters out. Most of the patrons scurry back to their tables, leaving the frat kids standing by the bar, puzzled and disheveled. The guy holding onto Gramble lets him go so he slides off the bar and falls onto the floor with a thud, knocking one of the stools over.

“What?” he hears one of them grunt.

The doors swing open as another grumpus enters, ducking slightly just to get through the doorway. Even from the other side of the room, Gramble can see she towers head and shoulders above most of the other patrons and is broader by at least half, and these were not small grumpuses. Each thump of her dinner-plate-sized paws on the floor makes the cutlery laid out on the tables jingle musically as she approaches. Her fur is the color of pine needles. The bar lights glint ruby in her eyes.

She frowns down at the frat kids, at their neon orange leader. “Is there a problem, here?” Her voice is a deep, husky growl, the sort you could feel in your ribs. In the bar lights Gramble can see the glimmer of a badge pinned to her leather jacket.

“No problem,” the leader holds his hands up defensively, a cowed smile on his face. She doesn’t even have to bare her own teeth. Her sheer bulk is enough. “We were just havin’ a good time.”

“I know your kind. You’re too stupid to have a good time.” She lashes out, grabbing a fistful of his scruff and dragging him towards the door like a kitten. He briefly tries to struggle before giving up, letting her hurl him out of the roadhouse like a sack of stale hamburger buns. As she turns back to the rest of the group, they sheepishly file out, the one Gramble had bitten clutching his bleeding arm.

“Thank you so much for comin’ by, officer Timberheart,” Gramble hears the bar’s owner (not Champy himself, but his son, Shester) say as he emerges from the office he’d been hiding in. Timberheart, huh, Gramble thinks to himself. So that was her name. It sounds so sturdy. A perfect fit for her.

“Aw, it’s no problem,” Ms. Timberheart tells him. “I was already in the neighborhood.”

“Can I get you anything? Something to drink?”

“Maybe next time, but thanks.”

With the commotion now died down, the conversation of the other guests begins to filter back in as everyone takes their seats again, resuming whatever they’d been doing before the fight had started. Gramble starts to pick himself up but stumbles, grabbing for one of the barstools. Maybe he’d been hit harder than he thought…

The noise gets Timberheart’s attention. She turns towards him, picking up the downed stool as she crouches. Even now she towers at least a good two feet over him when he’s standing. He blinks up at her concerned expression. She’s got a very soft face, now that he can see it clearly. Her eyes are big and gentle, her features framed by her thick, fluffy coat. Her nose is even shaped like a heart.

“You alright there?” She asks him. “Looks like they roughed you up good.”

“Ah…” Gramble’s not sure if he’s still reeling from the punch, but his stomach for sure feels knotted up, and he hadn’t even been hit there. “…y-yeah, I’m alright. I tried to stop one of ‘em from throwin’ stuff at the band. He didn’t appreciate it...”

“Good of you to try.” She grabs a handful of napkins from the counter, handing them to him. “Here, get yourself cleaned up. I swear, these out-of-towners think they can just swagger in here like they own the place, cause a ruckus and then leave when things start to get a lil’ too spicy.”

Gramble presses the napkins to his bleeding nose, noting with a twinge of disappointment that she’s got a gold wedding band around one of her fingers. Ah, well. Nothing stopping him from getting to know her. “I dunno how some folks can act like that… Like they were raised by wild animals.”

“That’s a little unkind to wild animals, don’t you think?” She chuckles. “What’s your name? Haven’t seen you around, I don’t think.”

“Oh, it’s… I’m Gramble.” Sniffling, Gramble smiles, hoping there’s no blood still on his teeth. “I guess I’m kinda new in town. Been livin’ here for about a year, now.”

“Gramble? You’re a friend of Wambus and Triff’s, ain’tcha? They said they were entertainin’ some sorta house guest when I saw ‘em a while back. Anyway.” She offers him a massive paw, one he could easily fit both his own in with room to spare. “Name’s Beautricia, but everyone just calls me Boots.”

Gramble accepts the paw, giving it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Boots! I hope I’ll see you around?”

“Oh, you will.” She smiles, showing just a hint of her fangs. “Take care now, Gramble. Enjoy the rest of the show.”

[eldritch-hall-asylum]

can i get some headcanons- er, facts about Charles’s concerts? Did he like to include his fans? y’know like Harry Styles’s concerts?

Oh, his concerts were delightful back in the day.

They were usually full of a few jokes in between songs (such as a band member starting their instrument early, and Charles pointing at them and saying "Not yet" or playing an incredibly annoying, catchy song (such as the duck song)).

Charles actually came out as bi at a concert, he just held up a flag, wore it as a cape and said "this is me, btw".

There would be a lot of call and response stuff as well, and having fans sing choruses with him.

Also, one time, the bass player and Charles kissed on stage - the two had discussed it, and thought it would excite the audience - and also help Jaeson come out.

Also, some stuff about me under the cut.

I hate one direction. Like, a pure and primal rage wells up inside of me when I hear their music. Its like someone is waking up the hulk.

Harry Styles, and the rest of the lads (I can't remember their names) all individually? Cool dudes, swell even. I'd give them a slice of Christmas cake if they asked for it.

But all of them together? I'm throwin hands. I'm Rocky Balboa. I'll make them all run in separate directions.

And while nowadays, I'm not a big fan of Harry Styles' music, I can tolerate him as a person.

Sorry, I rambled a little here.

Looks like seven year old me finally said what I always wanted to.

Oh, and don't even get me started on Just-!

*end credits*

[queenlua]

finished Great Ace Attorney game 1; some scattered thoughts

((gonna be the last post on this for a while, because i REALLY need to get some other shit done for a week or two before i start game 2, lol))

* that’s... the end? of the game??  i mean, okay i know i can technically start playing #2 right away, but that wasn’t the case at the time of this game’s release, and GOD i’d be pissed if i thought that was all i was getting.  like, we still don’t know Kazuma’s mission? the importance of that Baskervilles manuscript? (and how the fuck Susato knew about it?) what made Holmes all cynical on London?  fuck’s sake, we don’t even know van Zieks’s deal yet!  normally Figuring Out The Prosecutor is the beating heart of an AA game, and here it’s like... “we’ll vaguely hint at some deal with him and Kazuma in the last five seconds” and that’s it.  (not that i’m opposed to the games changing up the formula, but none of the other major relationships are fleshed out enough to replace it... Sholmes is delightful but spends a lot of time off-stage, Susato’s charming but we just don’t know much about her, and i think those are basically the only viable candidates, lol.)

basically it feels like Takumi conceived the whole game as an extended prologue... idk, feels similar to the error he made in AA4, where he’s just plain keeping too many cards close to his chest.  that game suffered hugely from never really digging into Klavier (despite setting up the best potential plot hooks on the planet)... c’mon Takumi you don’t have to play the long game every time; this is supposed to be entertaining video game nonsense :P

er, okay, NOW THAT I’VE GOT THE COMPLAINING PART OUT OF THE WAY:

* pulling a fucking Edward Snowden in the middle of a courtroom, while the proto-GCHQ is yapping “STOP STOP” and the judge just shrugs like “well what do you want me to do about it, i can’t stop lawyers from lawyering,” was SO fun.  perfect combo of “absurd” and “badass” and “just plain fun,” which is indeed these games’ sweet spot.

* the level of polish in this game is absurd and makes it so viscerally fun to play.  the animations are delightful (in a way that, say, FE3H could stand to learn from, cough cough).  the music is fantastic.  the feel of stuff like cross-examinations, the “logic and reasoning spectaculars”, and jury examinations, is so satisfying.  reminds me of some of the joy of playing Persona 5; just a really lovingly- and carefully-crafted thing

* sholmes is, of course, fantastic.  whether he’s cheerfully blackmailing randos to book express trains, or stealing all the credit for your accomplishments like Your Neighborhood Dudebro Project Manager, or declaring life to be a joyless farce due to “not practicing violin for a long time and thus becoming bad at it, how cosmically unjust” (HIGHLY relatable bit, that), he’s just the perfect final form of Energetic Big Loud Dumb Excitable Occasional Genius

* all math departments should be renamed “LOGIC AND REASONING SPECTACULAR.”  next time i’m debugging code with a coworker i’m calling it a “LOGIC AND REASONING SPECTACULAR.”  those are so fun oh my god i just want to run out into the street and find things to LOGIC AND REASON ABOUT

* amazing how many times this games caused me to curse the concept of democracy itself.  started with that lol-worthy Reverse Twelve Angry Men in the first fifteen minutes of 1-3 and just did not stop.  god.  those juries.  the pain

* so many fun old-timey britishisms.  gotta figure out how to incorporate “what ineffable twaddle” into my vocabulary

* Iris and that eight-year-old chick in Leif Enger’s Peace Like a River should form a Club for Absurdly Precocious Preadolescent Girls.  who would win...

* can’t believe i didn’t make the Natsume-Soseki-you-know-like-the-irl-Natsume-Soseki connection until i finished playing.  amazing.  love nerds throwin in their fave novelist as an OC

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Twelve Days of Holly Jolly Tidings - Day 6

Disclaimers: I watched “Dash & Lily” the other day on Netflix. This story is LOOSELY based on that book and Netflix series.  I do not own “Dash and Lily” or Newsies or anything recognizable within the series.  There are occasional curse words throughout the series, nothing too horrible but there’s some.  

Wednesday, December 18

Gathering her stuff, she trudged over to the elevator, happy to finally be leaving her work behind. It had been a shit day and it didn’t help that one of her articles was sent back to her desk with red ink all over it.   

Walking out of the elevator, she smiled seeing a man standing there waiting for her. “Thank God you’re still here. I thought you might have snuck out.” 

“Nope . . . just got my ass chewed out and an article was just redlined back to me.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Not that I don’t love seeing you, but what are you doing here, Spot?” 

He held up the familiar green notebook, grinning. “I’ve been recruited to deliver this to you. But there’s something you need to do first before you can get this.” 

“And what’s that?” Her eyebrow rose in curiosity, Spot holding the notebook just out of her reach. 

He smiled, tucking the notebook in his back pocket. “Have dinner with me?” 

“So I’m guessing today’s adventure isn’t on some sort of time table?” She guessed, looking over at him. 

Shaking his head, he started walking, not waiting for her to catch up. “No, there’s not. Something has to be done tonight but not a strict schedule. Now can we go get dinner?” 

She looped her arm through his as they made their way down the street. “And what’s for dinner, oh grumpy one?” 

“Just for that, you can pick up the bill.” He stuck his tongue out at her as she scoffed. “Kidding but I’m thinking Chinese.” 

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way, dear sir.” She grinned, trying to avoid the hip check that was coming her way; she was unsuccessful. 

Holding open the door, he motioned for her to go in first as he followed behind her. The door shut with a gentle bang as the hostess led them over to a table. Taking off her coat, she threw it in the booth before sliding in it as Spot did the same on the other side of the table. 

“Have you been here before?” She asked, giving him a look as she opened her menu. She immediately knew what she wanted, closing the menu with a snap. 

Spot looked up briefly before returning to his menu. “Once, Race took me here for a date a couple of years ago. I remember this place having really good food.” 

Nodding, she tapped her nails on the table watching him trying to figure out what he was going to order. “You figured out what you want to eat already?” 

“I tend to get the same thing when I go out for Chinese so it’s not rocket science.” She shrugged as the waitress reappeared with two glasses of water and a pot of tea. 

Quickly ordering, they were left in silence as Kat looked at him. “What’s been up with you? Seems like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” 

“You saw me last week for our annual lunch date. Hospital has been busy so I’ve been pulling more shifts.” Spot grinned, shaking his head at her. “What’s up with you?” 

Kat motioned to him. “You know what Jack’s been doing?” 

“He mentioned it last time Race and I saw him.” Spot shrugged. “I think it’s sweet that he’s planned this out just for you. He just wants to see you smile, Kat.” 

She nodded. “And it’s been fun to follow his adventures and I’ve had a great time with them.” 

“So what’s the problem?” Spot asked, as their order of Crab Rangoon were delivered to the table along with a couple of plates. 

Picking up a Crab Rangoon, she put it on her plate, pulling it apart and popping a piece in her mouth. “It feels like something is missing or I’m not picking up on something.” 

“So you’re putting an expectation on this?” Spot picked up exactly what she was doing. When the two had met, they had instantly connected and had become fast friends. Spot was her best friend, outside of her group she still hung around from college. 

Kat sighed, giving him a look. “I am trying not to but my brain keeps doing it.” 

“You need to tell your brain to knock it off. There shouldn’t be any expectations along with this.” Spot reached over, grabbing her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Jack is doing this to bring a little more holiday cheer to your life. He wants you to be happy and he designed this for that sole purpose. You need to get out of your head this time and just go with the flow. Maybe that’s what Jack is trying to teach you with these adventures - letting go and letting loose.” 

“Letting go and letting loose?” Kat raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you met me?” 

He chuckled. “Yes, I’ve met you. You’re one of my best friends. Don’t put yourself down but I’m challenging you to let go and let loose.” 

“Ugh . . . alright.” She sighed, nodding her head as their food arrived. 

Spot raised an eyebrow, looking up at her before he dug into his meal. “If you’re going to be like that, then I triple dog dare you to let go and let loose tonight.” 

“How old are you?” Kat asked. She should be shocked by his response but they had known each other long enough that it didn’t even phase her. 

“I’m the same age as you.” He stuck his tongue out at her as he laughed.  “Are you going to shy away from a triple dog dare?” 

Biting her lip, she pushed her food around on her plate. “No, I’m not going to shy away from a triple dog dare!” 

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” He teased, putting his hand near his ear. “Can you repeat that?” 

“I’m not going to shy away from a triple dog dare, old man!” She raised her voice a bit as he laughed, nodding his head. “Make sure those hearing aids are turned up.” 

Looking around them, he quickly flashes her his middle finger as she laughed.  “Love you too Conlon.” 

“It’s Higgins-Conlon, Plums and it’s been that way for the last two years.” He gave her a quick smile, shoveling another forkful in his mouth.

Pushing her plate away, she gave him a tentative smile. “I’m sorry, my apologies Mr. Higgins-Conlon.” 

“Thanks, love.” Sending her an air kiss, he grinned. 

He signaled for the bill, quickly paying it before he leaned back in his seat. “So where is he sending you tonight?” 

“Not sure.” She laughed. “I actually have to read the notebook.” 

Grabbing the notebook from his coat, he tossed it across the table to her. He signed the receipt, watching her crack open the book. 

Hello love, 

I hope you had a wonderful sixth day of Christmas and I hope you had a wonderful dinner with Spot. 

“You told him you were taking me out for dinner?” Cocking an eyebrow she gave him a look. 

Shrugging, he put his credit card back in his wallet. “It may have come up.” 

You’re going on a night adventure tonight. I’m changing it up for today’s adventure. Spot’s going to give you something before you leave him and that’ll give you the ticket to where you need to go.  You’ll need to get on your beloved D-train and take it out to 79th Street and Utrecht. 

You told me that one of your favorite childhood memories was going to look at Christmas lights with your parents and siblings when you were younger. I’ll let you in on a little secret, that was one of my favorite childhood memories as well. It was so cool to see how people would decorate their houses with simple strings of lights and a few blown up characters. 

So tonight I’m sending you to the ULTIMATE Christmas tree lights display in the city.  Once you get there, continue reading the notebook. 

Closing the book, she looked at Spot. “You’re supposed to give me something.” 

“I did . . . I gave you the notebook.” Spot gave her a look, tilting his head. 

Pointing to the notebook, Kat gave him a look. “Jack mentioned that you were going to be giving me something else.” 

“Oh, you’re looking for this.” Grabbing something from his back pocket, he handed it over to her. Accepting it, she saw it was a ticket. Flipping it over, she saw that it was a ticket to the Dyker Heights Christmas tour. 

“He’s sending me to Dyker Heights.” She said, as Spot snorted. 

“Have fun with that one.” Spot chuckled, shaking his head. 

Giving him a look, Kat tilted her head, not understanding why he was laughing.  “Why do you say that?” 

“Have you ever been to Dyker Heights during Christmas?” He raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly what she was getting herself into. 

Shaking her head, she slid the ticket in the notebook, before slipping that into her bag, giving Spot a look. “Do I dare ask what I’m getting into?” 

“Nope, you’re not getting that out of me. Just let loose and go with the flow tonight, okay?” Spot gave her a look. “Now go have fun and I cannot wait to hear all about it.” 

Putting her coat on and grabbing her bag, she leaned over and kissed Spot’s cheek before making her way out the door. Walking to the nearest Subway station, she paid before waiting for the train to arrive.  She looked around at the few people who were on the platform, bouncing on her toes to try to stay warm. Finally, the train arrived, as she boarded and found a spot. 

The train ride was quicker than she thought. Before long, she was walking off the train and through the station. She walked a couple of blocks and her eyes went wide at the brightness of the street. Everywhere she looked were covered in multicolored lights. Every street lamp, every fence, and every square inch of the houses were decorated. 

Hopping up on a brick wall fence, she dug the notebook out of her bag, opening it up. 

So you’ve made your way to the Dyker Heights Christmas Extravaganza.  This is the jolliest street within Brooklyn. Apparently people flock from all over the city every year to take in the brightness and cheer. 

So, my challenge to you, lose yourself in the wonder and the awe of the street. Listen to the history on the tour and join in the singing. Just enjoy yourself and have fun. 

Wish I could see your face right now - I’m sure your face is a mixture of fear and pure happiness. Look for Max, he’ll have a surprise for you. 

Closing the book, she looked around her.  Jack was really throwing her for a loop. The past 6 days, he had hidden the surprise in some random places but Max was a new one. 

“Are you Katherine?” Looking up from the notebook, she gave him a look. 

Jumping off the wall, she slowly nodded. “I am. And you are?” 

“The tour guide, Mitch.” He introduced himself. “And we’re about to start the tour.” 

She nodded, making her way over to the group.  Mitch started by greeting everyone before starting the tour.  “The Dyker Heights Lights displays started in the 1980s and it’s been a yearly tradition for many families since. Lucy Spata started the Christmas Lights tradition when she moved to the neighborhood in the 1980s. She decorates her house to carry on the tradition her mother had started.” 

She made her way with the group as they stopped at each of the houses along the street. Mitch would give them a brief history of the house and the family. He described that there usually was a theme that the neighborhood would decide on, leaving it up to each family to decorate their houses how they saw fit. 

Her eyes went wide taking in the Polizzotto’s house - it had a 15-foot-tall Santa Claus, and even taller nutcrackers. 

They continued down the street and stopped in front of another house. A giant Grinch was in the yard along with his dog, Max. Kat’s eyes went wide thinking back to the notebook and Jack’s note - Max. 

Her eyes swept the house, trying to figure out where Jack would hide the box. Nothing jumped out at her at first until her eyes landed on a divet in the brick wall. Leaning over, she grinned seeing a purple wrapped box, where a brick should’ve been. Pulling the box loose, she backed away from the group, letting them walk ahead without her.  Pulling the wrapping paper loose, she tucked it away in her bag before cracking open the box. Inside, laid a red Christmas bulb charm. Grinning, she closed the box back up and tucked it away. 

Grinning, she looked up and down the street and felt absolutely happiness. She grinned, letting herself go, just like she promised Spot, and twirled around as snow started to lightly fall. Throwing her head back, she caught a few snowflakes in her mouth, giggling the entire time.

So that’s day 6. What did you think? Feedback would be amazing and wonderful! 

[bubbl3sworld]

The hardware store (Belch Huggins x black! reader)

“Y/n!!” 

She groaned hearing her name get shouted through the house, it was her second day spending the night at cousin Mike house, or farm rather. And so far, she hated it. She slip the covers over her face, trying to ignore her grandfather shouting her name. Just when he stopped, footsteps were heard leading up to the room she was sleeping in. She balled herself up further in the bed, hoping for no one to come into her only safe space.

It wasn’t until the door creaked open was her cover blown

“I know you’re up Cuzzo” It was Mike, you could tell by his voice. 

Y/n removed the covers, sitting up slowly. Her eyes dragged up to his face, giving him an annoyed stare. “What does that man want now?” She asked reaching to fix her bonnet only to feel that it wasn’t on her head.

 “It’s on the floor” Mike points out smiling, “He wants you to go get some things from the hardware store since you can drive” She leaned over to pick up her {color} bonnet. “Mike you don’t got no friends to take you? Back home I always got a ride somewhere” She shakes off the bonnet before putting it on the dresser. “That’s what happens when your home schooled” She rolled her eyes, ‘It’s not my problem he’s a loner’ She thought 

“Well, it sounds to me that you and granddad got personal problems. Tell him I’m still slumped” Mike sighed shaking his head seeing the girl’s head hit the pillow. “Come on Y/n, you’re lucky enough that granddad ain’t making you work” She grumbled curses under her breath, damn that man. “The least you can do is run into town!” “Goddammit Mikey, Fine! Give me like, an hour. I wanna shower” Mike nods, leaving the room for her to get ready. “God I want to go home already” She got up and opened the dresser drawer to grab a shower cap

~

“Listen hear girl, you only going to the hardware store!” 

Y/n hums as she skillfully laid her edges with the toothbrush in the bathroom, barely hearing the old man yell at her. She knew she had more plans then just to go to a damn hardware store, like seriously. If she wasn’t going to be confined in the house, the least she can do is explore. 

“Are you listening to me Y/n!” Y/n sits the toothbrush on the sink, grabbing her black bandanna and walking out the bathroom. She laid it across her edges and went into the kitchen. “Of course granddad” She replied, sarcasm hinted in her voice. “Now what am I exactly going to the hardware store to get? Sum bolts or sum?” Leory shook his head at the girl as he handed her the keys

“My tractor needa oil change, I need you to go grab oil, spark plug, and a wheel” Y/n eyebrow furrowed at the mention of a wheel. “A wheel? Like a Wheel Wheel? The wheel for that big thing?” Leory nodded much to her annoyance. “Grandad, how am I supposed to get it in the back of the pick up?” She whined. Leory laughed, dismissing her by waving his hand. “Figure it out girl!”  Y/n walks out, grumbling to herself. How the hell is she supposed to get that big ass wheel in the back of the truck? She walks outside to the driveway, unlocking the door and starting up the car. “Hey Y/n!” She looks over her shoulder to see Mike running over to the old truck. “What do you want brat?” She teases with a smile, her smile soon dropped seeing him rubbing the back of his head. “I forgot to say, If you see a blue trans am stand clear. You do not want to get in their path” Y/n rolls her eyes, putting the her foot on the brake as she shifts the gear into drive.

“You think I’m scared of some white kids? Boy please. I’ll be back!” Mike backs away from the truck, watching her pull out of the driveway and down the road. 

~

Y/n spent the first hour searching for the store, Leory didn’t even give her any directions to the store. “At least this town is nice” She shrugs as she circles the block once again. A honk behind her made her check her rear mirror, only to see the car pulling up next to her. She looks over to see a man rolling down his window, she was hesitant to do the same but did follow suit. 

“Aye, you lost?” Y/n blinks, getting a good look at what she could see of him in his car. He was wearing a band tee and a yellow hat, he also had a bandanna that matched hers on his wrist. “Yeah” She finally replied leaning out the window. “You know where the hardware store is ‘round here?” The boy chuckled, clicking his tongue in amusement. “I’m actually headed there right now, you down to follow?”

“Hell yeah” Y/n cheered seeing him take his foot off the brake and move forward. This might be easier then she thought

~ 

As the strange boy in the blue car promised, he lead her to the hardware store. She missed the place by a mile given where it was at. Y/n parks the car, taking the key out of the ignition. She got out to greet the boy who led her to the place, to at least say thank you. But she saw him already walk in the store, she sped up to meet him. 

“Hey!” She smiled tapping him on his shoulder. He turned around and looked down at her, man he was tall. “You seriously walked off before I could thank you dude” That word felt funny coming out her mouth but she rolled with it. “I mean, It’s the least I could do after seeing you aimless circle the block” He chuckled, the both of them began talking and walking together

“Oh, so now you throwin shots?” She laughed as she watched him look up on the shelves. “If the shoe fits princess” Her heart slightly jumped hearing him call her that, but yet she was slightly freaked out. “Oh shut your mouth” He laughed as he turned back to her. He scanned her up and down before his eyes landed on her shirt. “You like Metallica?” Y/n looks down at her shirt, she forgot she had this old thing. 

“Yeah, what about it” Y/n questioned as they walked to the next isle. “I didn’t know that someone like you likes that type of music” She rolls her eyes at that sentence, somethings are too good to be true. “What? A black girl like me can’t listen to ‘your’ type of music?” She said doing air quotes, the boy rubs the back of his head. “I never really said that, but alright” “But you were implying it” She counters. “What’s your name, white boy?” “White boy?” He questioned picking up a pair of pliers. “You’re white, are you not?” She teases glancing at the shelf, her eyes landing on a big jug of oil. 

“The names Reggie, but my friends call me Belch” He watched as she picked up the jug of oil, a confused look appearing in his eye. Why would she need that? “Oooh! We friends just like that?” She grins holding the oil container in her hand. “Why they call you Belch?” An evil grin spread on his face, he leaned down to her to ear, Y/n backed away at this. “The hell you doin?” She asked slightly irritated. “Damn! Calm down, Does it look like Imma hurt you?” He saw how the girl gave him a sarcastic stare. “The sixties weren’t that long ago” Y/n started to walk out the isle, Reggie trailing not far behind. 

“Seriously, You asked why they called me Belch! I was gonna tell you!” Y/n rolls her eyes, how stupid does he think she is? “What? Were you gonna burp in my ear or sum shit?” Reggie fell silent, he cracking a half smile that made her laugh. “Oh my god, You seriously was gonna burp in my ear?” “What? Noooo I would never!” She couldn’t help but smile seeing him on the verge of laughter. “Okay, maaybe I was” “Asshole” Y/n shot back, reaching up to press his hat over his eyes. “Don’t do that!” He moved her hand, she laughs backing away. 

“You know where the spark plug isle is? I need one for a tractor” Reggie was a bit taken back by that, a girl like her is a farm girl? “Yeah uh, Next isle over” He said taking her over to the isle. “You a farm girl?” “Hell no” She quickly dismissed. “Im spending the summer with my cousin who happens to live on a farm” Y/n looks up at all the spark plugs lined up. “You a white male, pick which one would work for a tractor” “Just because I’m white doesn’t mean I know how tractors work but” Reggie reaches up to grab a plug, “This might work” He looked and saw how full her hands were with the container. “I’ll hold it for you” He reassures making Y/n smile.

 “So, Are you gonna tell me your name or what?” It went over Y/n’s head that she didn’t tell him her name. “I’m Y/n, I thought I told you my name earlier” She shrugs as they walked to the cash register. “Nah, I was hoping that you tell me sooner” Reggie smiles as they placed their things on the counter. “Hey, Can you ring me up one of those tractor wheels?” The cashier looks behind him grabbing the wheel and rolling it on the floor. “Get that for me Reggie will you?” Y/n said as she pulled out the cash her grandfather gave her. 

The two of them walked out of the store, Reggie rolling the wheel for Y/n all the way to the truck. “So tell me Y/n, You in a gang?” Y/n coughed, that question caught her off guard. “You do know that the black bandanna doesn’t mean your gang affiliated right?” Y/n watched as Reggie puts the wheel in the back of the truck, strapping it down to make it secure. “Not true” He said pointing to his black bandanna. Y/n rolls her eyes, of course the white boy thinks he’s gang affiliated. “Boy please, You ain’t White boy Rick” She cackles, “You probably have a close group of friends and yall probably started calling a gang” She saw how he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes were avoiding hers. 

“Which, May I add, isn’t what a gang is. But you do you boo” Y/n walks over to him, smiling. “Thanks for your help today man, I had no idea how I was gonna get that wheel back there” Reggie lets out a laugh. “It was no problem, I was wondering why a girl was going to the hardware store” Y/n rolls her eyes, of course he had to talk about that. “I know stuff about cars” “Oh really?” Reggie challenged. “That Blue car over there, what type is it?” Y/n looks over at his blue car, squinting her eyes. “I don’t know the breed of cars, the hell I look like? You?” She laughed seeing him roll his eyes. “But I do know how to change a tire!” 

“Good enough for me” Reggie shrugs. “So, Are you gonna be in town tomorrow?” Y/n thinks, Mike did ask her a day prior to take him to hang with his friends. “Most likely, Why?” She asked, she leaned on the side of the truck. “How about I show you around town since your from the city, or at least I’m assuming” Y/n smiles, nodding quickly. “Better than sittin in the house doing a whole lotta  nothin, I’ll meet you here around twelve!” Reggie grins, “Yeah! I-I mean” He coughs, trying to die down his excitement. “Yeah, I’ll see you here” Y/n started to get in the truck, closing the door. 

Reggie had moved away and when she pulled out and went her own way, he mentally screamed. “Hell yes” He grins going to his car, he couldn’t wait to tell the guys. 

~

“What’s with your sudden change of heart and taking me to see my friends?” Mike watched as Y/n went through the closet to pick out some clothes for tomorrow. “What? I can’t just be a good cousin?” Y/n smiled throwing a shirt on her bed. “I didn’t know you actually had friends, like seriously I’d thought you were some loner weirdo” Mike crossed his arms, “Are you trying to throw digs at me? Like you aren’t the one who listens to heavy metal like you’re white?” 

“Music has no race, Mikey” Y/n hums picking out a pair of shorts. “I may or may have not met someone, and they wanna take me around town. Mind ya damn business” “Your business IS my business” She rolls her eyes. As she went through her closet, she could only think about what Reggie really had in store for tomorrow.