#you are quietly just like let my short name french have it bro

[gonzodangerfeels]

Praise be thanks to the algorithm which chooses which picture to show me when I hover and lock the start button

[penguintransporter]

A Sunflower (Leon Goretzka imagine)

a/n: This is a quite short imagine (well, short for my style of writing) and it was requested by this lovely anon who sent me an ask a while ago, and I deleted it before being able to answer it. But, as wished, a cute Leon Goretzka imagine for you that includes a sunflower, plus I made this banner because I was feeling inspired. Hope you like it ❤

He knows straight away who is at the door as soon as he hears the doorbell of his apartment ring – at first shyly, as if the person behind the doors barely touched it, and then the second time a tiny bit longer, and dare he say, more confident and impatient.

Still, he doesn’t move even if he wants to.

He sits in the middle of his sofa, glancing at the large flower pot next to him before he moves his eyes back to the enormous screen where he was in the middle of a very difficult battle in this new multiplayer game – letting Benjamin Pavard join the server and making him shoot on target proving to be a more difficult task than him and Joshua thought it would be. The Frenchman was hopeless.

The bell rings out once again, and he curses a little as he tries to hide from the shooter.

“Aren’t you going to get that, bro?” Joshua asks, half-shouting, as Leon moves and dodges slightly, as if that’s going to help him avoid the enemy’s bullet.

Press of a button – target shot.

Then another, and another.

“No, she can wait until we finish the battle,” he responds hurriedly as he presses the button on his controller fiercely.

“She?” Benjamin asks – French accent obvious like the storm that was raging outside.

“Neighbour,” Leon replies absent-mindedly before dropping his controller in his lap, leaning back. “Fuck! You were supposed to cover for me, Kimmich!”

**

When he finally opens the doors, barefoot and in sports socks, wearing a fresh t-shirt, she’s standing there – eyebrows slightly narrowed.

“Hi,” he starts, running a hand through his curls, trying to pretend that he was curious about why she was there. “May I help you?”

Holding back the triumphant smirk, he looks down at her.

As if he didn’t know who she was. As if he didn’t know her name, last name, age, and the time when she usually arrives home from her work every single day. As if he wasn’t thinking about her lately, more than he dared to admit. As if it wasn’t him who stopped the delivery guy when he walked back with her order of a huge flowerpot with sunflowers after not finding her home.

But, he just couldn’t help it.

She looks so cute – too cute for his own good – all flustered in her sailor-striped long-sleeved shirt and a pair of high-waisted jeans as she looks up at him with doe eyes.

So tiny and delicate, compared to him.

“Hello,” she mumbles and he can swear that her cheeks turned rosy for a moment and he likes it. “I believe you’ve got my order?” she asks with hesitation, lifting up a yellow post-it that had a note scribbled in his messy handwriting. He nods, leaning against the door-frame – arms folded on his chest. “Sorry about that. I should have remembered that it was due to be delivered today.”

“That’s fine,” he smiles comfortingly at her, trying to ease her nervousness. “Want to come in?” he asks suddenly before he could stop himself.

She widens her eyes for a second and he wants to slap himself – what are you even thinking, Goretzka?

“Uh, sure,” she quickly nods, brushing away a stray hair that fell out of her low ponytail. He nods as well, moving away to let her walk in, and she does so but he can feel her reluctance, so he quickly decides to leave the door open, thinking that she probably needed some kind of reassurance that he wasn’t a maniac of some kind.

“I watered it,” he admits as he walks past her, inviting her into his sparsely furnished living room. 

Despite having money to make it less sterile, he had no motivation. 

His taste was probably questionable as well.

She looks around the empty apartment walls as he lifts up the large and quite heavy container with a bunch of smaller sunflowers planted inside.

With a smile, she walks closer to where he is standing and presses a finger into the soil. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful of you,” she admits as he takes a whiff of her perfume. Or was it shampoo? It didn’t matter because she smelled exactly how he imagined – flowery and light.

“I can help you carry it, this is quite heavy,” he begins and she looks up at him with genuine curiosity.

He has hard time looking into her eyes and not at her lips.

His neighbour only smiles shyly, nodding again, and couldn’t help himself but do the same before they make their way through his apartment, and out into the corridor where he quickly puts on his shoes. They take the stairs, despite having an elevator on disposal, but he doesn’t mind even if the pot feels slippery in his hands – it still buys him more time with her.

“I didn’t know footballers lived in this area?” she asks apprehensively, glancing at him from under her eyelashes. “I thought you all lived in Schwabing or Grünwald.”

Leon smiles at the thought that she knew who he was, and for some reason he feels even more proud for his achievements with the club. He wonders if she liked football, and if she would look good in his jersey? 

He laughs a little as they reach the landing where her doors were, “Yeah, most of my friends from the club do. I prefer this area. It reminds me of the one where I grew up in Bochum. Also, I like the all the cafe’s around the block.”

She nods, silently confirming her own liking of the very same places as she pulls a key from her jeans pocket, twisting the lock and letting Leon walk in first.

It hits him like a train.

Compared to the bare walls of his apartment and no such thing as a single plant in any of his rooms, her place looked like a mini-jungle to say at least. There were plants everywhere – on the floor, on the shelves, around the small TV, on the coffee-table, window sills and hanging from the hooks along the window.

She giggles lightly, covering her face.

“You get used to it the more you look at it. It’s always the initial shock,” she jokes, walking around him and stepping closer to the doors that led to a small balcony. “You can put it down here and I will move it outside once it stops raining.”

He nods, doing as she asked him to, and when he straightens himself he cannot help but smile, both because he was polite and because he couldn’t stop thinking how nice would it be to hold her tiny frame in his arms. He was sure that he could even fit her in his pocket if he wanted to.

“Well,” he begins, brushing his hands against his jeans, “hopefully, I will see you around.” She nods with a smile and he turns around, ready to make his way through the maze of different plants, but she stops him by calling him by his name. For a second, he is confused, but then he remembers that he is not just any random guy in Munich and that she probably knew his name even without the note he left on her door. “Yeah?” he questions, facing her again.

She kept smiling, reaching out a small pot with a green plant that she took from her window sill. “Here, as a thank you for taking care of my sunflowers. This is peperomia. Doesn’t grow as big and it’s easy to take care of it. Forgetting to water it once or twice won’t kill it.”

He doesn’t know what to do or what to say, so he grins as he takes the small pot and takes it home.

**

He stares at the plant that is now on top of his coffee table as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Oh what the hell,” he mutters quietly, getting up and going for his entrance doors – not bothering to put on any shoes or to lock after himself. Each step is every second stair – his training schedule and being a professional footballer giving him advantage in still having a normal breathing tempo as he reaches her doors, knocking lightly.

She opens them just a few seconds later, looking at him slightly confused. “Hi again,” she greets with a small wave, holding a watering can in her hands.

“Hi,” Leon breathes out, running a hand through his curls. “I am off tomorrow, and I wanted to ask you if you want to have breakfast with me?” he blurts out, not beating around the bush. He can feel his own cheeks flaming up ever so slightly as she looks down at his feet – clad in only white sports socks, and he gets nervous. “I mean, we can just get a coffee if you are not feeling like a breakfast. Or lunch… dinner maybe? I make a great lasagna… are you vegetarian or vegan?” he rambles, unable to stop.

She gently laughs, and he stops talking, feeling all sorts of emotions in his stomach; in his heart.

“I’d like to. We can have breakfast, or get a coffee, or lunch, or dinner maybe?” she repeats his words, tilting her head to one side.

He breathes out yet again and takes a step backwards and away from her door. “Great, I will pick you up tomorrow. Is 10 am too early, or too late?”

“It’s perfect,” she answers shyly, blushing.

“Perfect. I’ll let you tend your plants,” he stops again, grimacing at his own words, “not that I think that’s all you do. I am sure you have other wonderful hobbies that you can tell me about some other time. I mean bye, I will see you tomorrow.”

She giggles as she starts closing the doors slowly, looking at him the entire time from behind it. “You know where to find me,” she adds before she blushes deeper red and finally closes the doors completely.

Leon takes a deep breath, making his way downstairs before pumping his fist in happiness, unaware that a pair of eyes were still looking at him through the peephole of the plants-filled apartment – an equally excited grin plastered across her face.

***

a/n: I hope you like it. Tell me what you think ❤

[dream-of-kpop]

Tokyo [2/2]

Tokyo: "Did you guys talk about me while I was gone?"

Jhope: "Only a little-"

Jin: "Yes."

RM: "Uh, only about how much we missed you."

Tokyo: "Awe, my big Korean daddy how sweet." *the cringe hurt my heart but i had to*

*the rest of the group look at each other baffled*

*Suga was the most surprised*

*Jhope almost vomited*

Tokyo: "Hey, do you guys want some candy? They had it in the bathroom." *pulls some out of her pockets*

V: "They have candy in the bathroom?"

Tokyo: "I just said that, yeah."

RM: "What? They don't have candy in the bathrooms...I think that's soap..." (pls get this reference)

*Tokyo shrugs then eats another piece of "candy"*

*RM stares at her like she's crazy*

Suga: "Ahem, Tokyo, let me ask you a question."

Tokyo: *clearly annoyed* "What is it hoe?"

Suga: "What do you love the most about Namjoon?"

Tokyo: "Bby got coins."

V: "So...you only like him for his money?"

Tokyo: *inches closer to RM* "Sweetie, I don't like them anymore- In fact, I don't like any of your friends. They're rude."

Jungkook: "You haven't even met Jackson yet-"

RM: "No...Toni, it's not like that. They're just worried about us."

Jimin: "Yeah, we're very worried about Namjoon's mental health right now."

Tokyo: "Namjoon?"

Jimin: *confused laugh* "Yeah, your boyfriend."

Tokyo: "OHHHH- *loudly cackles* BABE, I THOUGHT YOUR NAME WAS CORY!"

RM: "Heh, no...it's Namjoon..."

*Jin laughs quietly to himself*

Jungkook: "Do you even know his last name?"

Tokyo: *thinks for a second* "..." *observes RM for a while* "Lee?"

RM: *awkwardly clears his throat* "Tokyo, honey, can you give us a minute?"

Tokyo: *gets up from the table* "Sure. I'll go ask where the fuck our waiter is at. I want some french fries..." *smiles at RM before walking away*

Jhope: "...She does realize this is a Japanese restaurant right?"

V: *sighs* "Namjoonie listen...tsk tsk I get it. She's...she has a 'good' personality let's just say that...but just...no. This girl is like the opposite of what I expected for you."

Jin: "Yeah, you can do way better dude *stares intensely at RM, batting his eyelashes*

V: "Absolutely. We get it, you have a thing for black girls-"

RM: "Wait I-"

V: "Shhh- let me finish. I get that, but this girl, she isn't for you. Understand?"

RM: "It's been a while since I've felt this way, you know?

Jimin: "My guy, you've only been dating her for like 2 weeks."

RM: "Techinically 2 weeks and 4 days when we met at a 7/11 in Cali."

Suga: "Dude, she has a daughter who is older than you and she also has a daughter. If you got married you would literally be a grandfather."

Jhope: "A grandaddy in BTS? Not cute. We are too young for that."

Jungkook: "Mhm. You saw the proof. She flirted with us and wanted to smash. Not wifey material bro. I mean unless you're into that. Not kink shaming."

RM: "What? No...*shakes his head out of frustration* So what do I do?"

Jin: "We leave this bitch in...where are we Kookie?"

Jungkook: "Kyoto."

Jin: *snaps his fingers* "Yeah, we leave her here in Kyoto and go to...Idk. Any place far from here."

*Tokyo swiftly returns with a drink and seats herself inbetween RM and Jin once again*

Tokyo: "These hoes don't understand a drop of English, annoying motherfuckers."

*the table is still silent*

Tokyo: "I'm hungry as fuck-"

V: "Yeah the restaurant is pretty busy. They probably forgot about us."

Tokyo: "Whatever. What are we doing after this?"

RM: "Um, not sure. Maybe sightseeing? Right guys?"

BTS: "Sure."

*while RM speaks to Tokyo, Jungkook whispers to Jimin beside him*

Jungkook: "Dude, stop rubbing my leg..."

Jimin: "I'm not doing that..."

*Jungkook looks across and realizes it's Tokyo doing it*

Jungkook: *jumps up* "I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE JOON, BREAK UP WITH HER NOW!"

RM: "Woah- happened??"

Jungkook: "HER GROSS ASS FOOT WAS MASSAGING MY LEG-"

Tokyo: "Chill bruh, my leg accidentally touched yours..."

Jungkook: "NO. SHE'S RUINING THE VIBE. SHE'S MAKING ME FEEL GROSS-"

*the customers in the restaurant stare at them*

RM: "Kookie, stop it. You're causing a scene."

*Jungkook looks around, bows, grabs his picture and sprints out the restaurant*

*the rest of the group, one by one, follows Jungkook out of the restaurant, leaving RM and Tokyo alone*

Tokyo: "Are your friends on drugs or something?"

RM: "No they're just concerned."

Tokyo: "I still don't like them. That one short dude was creeping me out."

RM: "Please don't disrespect them. They're good to me."

Tokyo: "Not to me- fuck them. I hate this restaurant, they don't have an Arby's around here??"

*RM suddenly stands up out of his chair*

Tokyo: "Cory, where are you going?"

RM: *sighs* "Uhhh- to see if they have an Arby's around here."

Tokyo: "Ok, I'll be right here." *sees a man staring at her* "Bitch, what the fuck are you looking at?"

*RM leaves and sees the rest of the group standing outside*

RM: "Hurry up guys, let's walk. Fast."

Jimin: "WHAT HAPPENED?"

RM: "I left her in there. She was disrespectful to you guys. Well to everyone honestly."

Jhope: "Yeah and ruined my picture..."

Suga: "And ate soap-"

RM: "I feel kinda bad...I left her with the bill and she doesn't know any Japanese."

Jin: "It's ok. One of her thots can pay for it."

*the group continues to walk (pretty much run) to the nearest subway station*

.

. pt.1 

hyungwonthefraud

ok, time to crawl back into my hole

[rebeckalindahl]

Summer night in the cafe

He stood a little ways away from her, watching her.  She had been with him all night,  sitting and walking and talking and stopping to dance for a moment and then taking his hand as they went to get something to drink.  But he wanted a chance just to watch her, and she was so at ease with anyone who approached her, she was a marvel to him.

“You being a perve, bro?” his twin brother said as he knocked his shoulder into him.

“Shut up.”

“Nah, my guy, she’s hot. No harm in watching.  But are you…doing?  A woman like that…she will want to do some doing…”

Magnus closed his eyes and shook his head.  His brother could be crude.  They were so different.  And so when a girl ran up and grabbed Ansgars hand and pulled him away, Magnus was relieved. He didn’t want to spend anytime dealing with his drunk brother.

Magnus leaned against the table, one hand behind his back, the other holding his beer, his legs slightly in front of him and crossed at the ankle.

God, she was beautiful, and not just…like his brother would say ‘hot’. He wouldn’t deny that she was physically beautiful, her green eyes the exact color of the meadow by the lake after a summer shower, bathed in bright sunlight.  But she was so much more than that.  She was bubbly and warm and intelligent and for some reason, he couldn’t figure out, she liked being around him.  She had liked him from the moment she met him.

Magnus had just come back into town for a short holiday before heading back to Malmo and more training. He was meeting his brother before they went to their mother’s house, just to catch up before the onslaught of questions from their mother, and he had stopped at the bakery to grab a cinnamon bun.  He always grabbed a cinnamon bun when he came back to Trollhattan, they were the best he had ever had.  The old woman behind the counter looked up from helping the blond young woman when Magnus walked in and she smiled and waved, happy to see him after his long absence from the town.  He had worked for her for a short time and she was always telling everyone that her place was never so clean as when Magnus Martinsson was cleaning it. Magnus had waved to her and stood behind the blond woman as she ordered the last cinnamon bun in the case. The woman reached for it but then looked at Magnus, her eyes sad and sorry.

“It’s the last one for the day, I’m afraid.”

The blonde woman blinked and nodded but then realized that the woman wasn’t speaking to her, she was speaking to the man behind her.

She turned and her eyes fell on him, and she gasped.

Magnus blushed and looked down.

“It’s okay Amelia, I can come back tomorrow.  I’m here for about a month.  If you need any help with the cleaning, just let me know,” he said as he shoved his hands in his pockets nervously.

The young blonde woman looked between him and the old woman.

“Did I… I didn’t know…” she stammered.

“Of course not dear, how were any of us to know!  But Magnus Martinsson is back in town and I will have to make more cinnamon buns for the next month!”

The old woman laughed as she was boxing up the young woman’s cinnamon bun.

“Would you…?” she asked Magnus as she gestured to the cinnamon bun “…I don’t need it.  You can have it, if you like,” she said, her face flushed out of both attraction and embarrassment.

Magnus raised up his hands and shook his head.

“No, no.  It’s yours, fair and square.”

The young woman swallowed hard as she looked at Magnus.

“No, please…”

Magnus only smiled and backed away.

“Tomorrow, Amelia. I’ll be earlier tomorrow.”

And he left the bakery, his heart beating faster and his cheeks blushing pink.  He tried to cool his skin by pressing the backs of his fingers against his cheeks, but then his brother was running at him down the sidewalk and tackling him, hugging him roughly.

The next morning he went into the bakery and Amelia was smiling at him as she handed him a cinnamon bun and coffee.

“She bought you one today,” the old woman said with a knowing look.

Magnus frowned.

“Wh-who?”

Amelia laughed and shook her head.

“Always the same…” she said as she handed him a piece of paper with a name and number on it.

“R-Rebecka Lindahl…”

And then he called to thank her and she suggested they meet for coffee the next day, and then the next day she asked him to lunch, and then Magnus found himself asking her to come have dinner with him while his mother and brother and sister were away for the evening, and then he invited her for a hike and to go fishing…and to his astonishment, she said yes every time.  And the conversation flowed and when it slowed, it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just a breath, and a calm and sometimes a brush of their fingers… and she seemed interested in everything about him.

She wasn’t like anyone he had ever met.

But Magnus was cautious, and he held onto his heart fiercely, having been hurt before.

Rebecka Lindahl didn’t mind though.  She still smiled at him and listened to him and talked his ear off.  She seemed wholly unaware of how he saw himself. All she saw was the handsome young man who was interested and attentive and there was a softness in his eyes, one that was lacking in his twin brothers.

And so they spent all their time together, all the way up until this night when there was a party in the café and the courtyard was lit with fairy lights strung from the trees. And people sat at tables and stood around in groups and laughed and drank and ate the appetizers that were offered.

And Magnus Martinsson watched her, and his mouth pulled ever so slightly upward on one side at the way she shifted on her feet and looked over at him.  When her eyes met his, his face broadened into a wide smile, all without his knowledge or permission.  The smile that she returned to him made his heart skip a beat and he looked down and away from her.

She was so bright, so lovely, and in that moment Magnus knew that she wasn’t really his.

It wasn’t because she didn’t want to be, or because Magnus had high walls built around him.  

It was just fate, and timing.

And even with all they had in common, she was her own, solely.  

Magnus looked at her again and smiled.

She was her own, but she shared herself with him.

She was leaving for America in a week, and he would be back in Malmo, training and studying and working.

He pursed his lips as he looked down at his feet and when he looked up, she was in front of him, beaming and reaching for his hand.  The coolness of her skin was jarring, though not unwanted.

“That’s enough time on our own.  You are the only one here I want to talk to anyway…”

With one fluid motion she leaned into him and pressed a kiss to his lips.

It wasn’t the first time she had kissed him, and it wouldn’t be the last.  But Magnus let the kiss linger between them and he smiled softly at her.

“You wanna go back to my place and I can make you some real food?” he asked her quietly.

Rebecka pushed her hair behind her ear and looked down.  Magnus Martinsson realized that he wasn’t even worried that she would say no.  He knew her answer.

“Ja,” she said as her fingers played with his shyly.  “Will you make me French toast?”

“For dinner?” Magnus chuckled.

“For…whenever…”

Magnus blushed again and looked down from her, watching the way her fingers played with his.

“Sure, I promise.”

Rebecka beamed at him, even though his eyes were on her hand in his.  Her pinky found his and she hooked her pinky around his.

“Pinky Promise?”

Magnus looked up at her and inhaled a deep breath.

A ‘Pinky Promise’ was the strongest promise, she had explained to him as they sat watching the sunset one day.  She had wrapped her pinky around his and showed him how to do it, but she hadn’t voiced any promise.  

Or so he thought.  

But looking at her now as she raised his  hand to her lips and kissed his fingers… perhaps she had promised…

“Pinky Promise, Ms. Lindahl.”

Rebecka pulled him into a kiss again and then they were leaving the café, leaving everyone behind as they cuddled together, nestled close, walking back to his house.

[anoddconstellationofthoughts]

so. here we go again folks. sit down and strap in tight.

geraskier fic

jaskier is a massage therapist

geralt is an mma fighter and constantly gets Broken

so he and jaskier become friends through that

and soon geralt is coming to see jaskier even when he’s not hurt

and they both grow crushes n start to fall whatever it’s cute

but then a fight goes wrong

like really wrong

geralt’s in the hospital

jaskier’s just a massage therapist, not his bf, not family, not even an official pt. he has no claim on geralt. he can’t go see him.

geralt has only ciri (she’s probably 18/19 in this fic, just for convenience), and she’s heard about jaskier, but never met him. she, therefore, can’t sign to let jaskier in.

geralt’s in something of a medically induced coma, to keep his brain in shut down mode while it tries to heal. idk how body work.

yennefer is geralt’s manager/pr person, and jaskier’s “friend” she knows ciri and therefore is able to get updates on how he’s doing. she passes them along to jask and he hangs on her every word.

three days short of a month, the doctors deem geralt safe enough to bring out of the coma. he doesn’t wake up right away, bc, yknow, coma and sleeping, but when he does, he’s alright.

except he’s not alright.

because he doesn’t remember jaskier. or yennefer. or anyone else. the only person he remembers is ciri, and even then, he sometimes calls her pavetta. he’s never done that before.

jaskier is heartbroken. HEARTBROKEN.

but hey, maybe, yknow, this could give him a chance. 

geralt’s finally down and out from fighting, ciri and yennefer will make sure of that. vesemir and the wolves (geralt’s trainer/fight bro buddies) will too.

so maybe, now, jaskier and geralt can actually get to know each other, instead of small talk while one rubs oil and wishes into the others’ scarred and knotted flesh.

and it works.

geralt begins to remember people. slowly, but he does.

he makes references he should have forgotten about, is able to recognize and name fighting moves and techniques, can list yennefer and ciri’s exes and everything he hated about them then and continues to hate now.

there’s not much for him to remember about jaskier. they never really got to know each other anyway.

but they get to begin anew.

jaskier learns that geralt has a horse, named roach, who’s his pride and joy. geralt learns that jaskier is allergic to peanuts, but has done the “shove in a reeses and stab with the epi pen” move at least twice.

they both learn that neither of them likes to talk about their parents or their past.

geralt eventually Remembers most things. there are still holes and gaps and such, as there always will be. brain trauma really fucks with you.

geralt discovers he likes french toast, which yennefer and ciri both SWEAR he hated with a passion before the injury. jaskier only smiles and looks up recipes.

(he’s a shit cook, but that’s okay. they’ll find that out together, at a later date.)

so geralt got discharged from the hospital a week or two after he woke up, as his body had healed, only his mind had not. he goes go see a therapist (triss, probably) who he doesn’t fully trust, but she knows yennefer and has good reviews on RateYourShrink.com. so he goes with it

she, of course, unearths some deep seated trauma.

geralt knows that since she’s his therapist, he should talk about the trauma w her, but he also wants to do it w someone he also Actually cares about.

since the injury, vesemir and the wolves have grown distant. geralt guesses it’s due to guilt. they’re all still fighting. he’s the odd one out.

ciri is his daughter. absolutely not.

he and yennefer don’t quite have that kind of relationship. they talk about feelings, sure, but the feelings they talk about are mostly “i’d like to burn down a building but i can’t” or “i wanna stick my dick in it” or “i think that perhaps one of us is misreading the situation here.”

they don’t really talk along the lines of “i don’t know who i am anymore. i don’t like what i went through to get here. i don’t know if i like who i am.”

it’s a conversation they absolutely should have, as the two of them specifically would be very good at it, but they don’t. that’s just not where they’re at right now.

so jaskier it is.

jaskier sits quietly and listens and holds geralt’s hand and head and body while he cries. 

sometimes, just so geralt doesn’t feel weird about it, jaskier unloads a little too. he talks about his love for music that his parents forced him to abandon for A Real Career. tells geralt about the scars his father left, both mental and physical. about his mother’s blind eye and slow descent into drug related madness. about his sisters abandoning him in their haste to get away from their parents and leave the house.

geralt nods. he knows what it’s like to be abandoned.

through their mutual trauma, they bond. jaskier tells geralt he isn’t sure he knew him all that well before the accident, but he’s very much in love with the person he is now.

geralt absolutely does not cry at that. no way. ciri buy more kleenex, please. yes, the ones with lotion.

(he has a sensitive nose)

jaskier moves into geralt’s huge mma money fighter mansion. yennefer (who doesn’t live in the house but might as well start paying the mortgage) threatens him with bodily harm if he hurts geralt. ciri only narrows her eyes and makes no attempt to hide the knife strapped to her thigh.

they’re happy.

jaskier adopts a dog, a lil jack russel terrier who has the personality of a million year old rabbit on crack cocaine. geralt pretends to be annoyed by him, but jaskier walks in on geralt napping with the dog curled on his chest far too many times to believe it.

he takes up music again. relearns how to play the lute and the guitar and the ukulele and the piano. the house is almost always filled with music.

they’re really happy.

geralt remembers little pieces more and more every day. and sure, he’ll never remember everything. but that’s alright. he doesn’t need to.

he has everything he needs right here.

[lallemcnt]

go ahead and watch my heart burn (part one) 

“Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward.”

 ― E.E. Cummings

Lucas Lallemant didn’t appreciate the party scene. Since he’d reached the age of fifteen and there was a house party every weekend thrown by someone at his school or a distant, distant acquaintance of a friend of a friend, his apprehension towards nights outs had begun, and his feelings hadn’t change since starting university. But no one cared about that, so he acted the part of the typical teenager, probably fulfilling it a bit too well, if tonight was any indicator. He was drunk enough that he’d overcome the hoard of butterflies in his stomach, and the incessant thoughts of you look stupid, everyone is staring at you, no one likes you had disaparated alongside his desire to leave. He was drunk enough that when Basile left him to go and mix himself another drink, his body didn’t tense up, he didn’t immediately pull his phone out and pretend to be doing something important or texting someone important. In fact, Lucas was drunk enough that he was fine just people watching, and not at all uncomfortable or upset with Yann for ditching him to dance with Chloé or when Arthur found himself pulled into a game of darts. He was vibing with the shitty house music, slumped on a velvet sofa in the corner of a room that seemed too big for any place in Paris.  

The house was a fucking joke, in Lucas’ opinion, he marvelled over the sheer size and opulence, all sharp points and smooth lines — this world of ostentatious wealth and economic privilege he’d stepped into seemed to increasingly blow his mind in his current inebriated state. The disparities between his own life and this house are insurmountable. Lucas isn’t poor, he knows that he’s lucky: a meal on the table every night even if it’s not the most nutritious, a hard-working mother who adores him. He might live in a run-down area of the city, and not have the laptops, video consoles or holidays his friends do, but he’s been okay, fatherless but he doesn’t want to think about that. And he’s definitely not so drunk anymore.

Lucas presses his face into his palms, dragging his hands across his face before he sweeps them through his hair and stands up. He’s on a mission.

-

“McDonald’s!” Baz yells into the chilly early morning air before turning around to face the rest of le gang and walking backwards, nodding his head towards the golden arches which glow like beacons of hope — both literally and figuratively — to those seeking a reprieve from the cold and the others starving during drunken nights out.

Lucas chuckles out a laugh when Baz stumbles over his feet but steadfastly continues his campaign of encouragement to go to the fast food place. Yann and Arthur exchange a glance before looking at Lucas in askance, who shrugs his shoulders back in confirmation.

As they enter the restaurant they’re immediately hit with blinding florescent lighting and the smell of greasy fried food. Lucas inhales it all in, while feeling for the money in his pocket he doesn’t have. He sighs inwardly, his stomach gnawing at him, but he knows he’ll just have to wait until he gets home.

Basile is already sauntering towards a table in the back, and Yann and Arthur are heading towards the order stations.

When Lucas doesn’t follow, Yann looks over his shoulder and calls. “You getting anything?”

Lucas shakes his head, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, looking down at his feet. He’s embarrassed. He knows he could ask either one of the boys to get him something and they wouldn’t even expect Lucas to pay them back. It’s not pity or done at the expectance of a favour in return. They would pay for Lucas, as they’re paying for Basile because that’s how they are.

Yann frowns, considering Lucas’ posture. Knowing, in part, how Lucas thinks because he’s known him forever. Best friends these two, and you can’t be best friends and not know when something’s off with your other half. Whether due to the sudden self-consciousness that overcomes him or the growing desire to sit down because he’s tired as hell, it’s 1:30am after all, Lucas begins walking over to Basile, eyes on the floor as they scan the dirty tiles. He looks up when he feels he can, when it’s okay to, when the sudden feelings of insecurity have diminished marginally, and he notices Basile has commandeered a table with Manon, Imane and Imane’s brother’s friends. Lucas slips onto the bench beside Manon, letting out a small salut before he’s resting his head on her shoulder. He isn’t paying attention to the conversation, only hears boisterous laughter, Basile’s deep tenor and Imane’s sharp tone, presumably calling out Basile. He wants to go to the bathroom and scream at himself because of how his mood deteriorated so fast.

It’s not until Yann and Arthur appear at their table, pulling up chairs and trays loaded with fries and ketchup and mayo, and Yann nudges Lucas’ arm that Lucas looks up. He blinks at Yann who indicates the food with his hands, Lucas shakes his head.

“Come on, we’re all sharing.” Yann encourages, raising a fry to his mouth.

Lucas just stares at the food. Manon, seeing this, reaches for Lucas’ hand and squeezes before whispering quietly, so no one else can hear. “Are you okay?”

Lucas looks down at their hands and nods his head. Manon squeezes his hand once more before rejoining the conversation, but her hand remains laced with Lucas’s. It’s a small comfort this contact, but it’s a very welcome one, especially coming from her. Manon is one of the anchors in Lucas’ life, like Yann, who keep him steady and grounded and know when and when he doesn’t need to talk. They are the stakes to Lucas’ growing rose, sturdy and supportive, allowing him to breathe and talk on his own.

“Little sister!” Idriss yells, indignantly. “You can’t speak like that to me!”

Imane narrows her eyes at Idriss, folding her arms as she responds, red lips pursed. “But I just did.”

Lucas, hearing Imane’s blunt tone, can’t help but smile because of its familiarity and, really, it’s the small things that encourage positivity in him. Because he’s hungry and, rationally, he knows he’s only hurting himself by refusing the offer of food, he dunks a fry in mayo and munches away as Idriss looks to his friends for support. Lucas’ eyes follow Idriss’ movements to the two boys sitting to his left. Sofiane he recognises with his tight black curls, eyes dipped in honey and defined arms and shoulders. Those were the features Lucas noticed the first time he met Sofiane at Imane’s house one day after school. Imane had glared at him and shoved Lucas into her room because he’d been staring apparently. Sofiane is attractive and Lucas is only human after all. Next to Sofiane sits a boy Lucas does not recognise. His eyes are the first thing Lucas sees because the hospital lights in here are bleeding them of colour making them appear almost clear. He’s wearing a pink patterned short-sleeved shirt with the first few buttons undone, and a silver skull ring reveals itself on his middle finger as he sips from a straw. His nose is strong and curved, and he’s laughing along with Sofiane at Idriss, but all of that is incongruous with his posture, all rounded shoulders that suggest a shyness, as though he wants to make himself smaller. He’s gorgeous and Lucas wants to know his name, all the negativity from before has been steam-rolled by this boy.

Lucas feels his groove coming back. He takes in the sight of his friends, Manon snorting out a laugh beside Imane who is grinning, Arthur engaged in a deep conversation with the no-name boy, Yann teaching across the table to slap palms with Basile, and Idriss gesturing empathetically to Sofiane. He feels all warm, his anxiety seeming so ridiculous, which he knows it is but can’t help how quickly and intensely it grips him, and can go within several minutes or stay with him for days. These are the people he lives for, who help drive away the self-doubt.

The thing with Lucas is that he’s a contradiction. That’s what his anxiety has made him. He is extremely comfortable around his friends: obnoxiously loud and sarcastic, but new people put him on edge. He’s met Idriss and Sofiane before, but never this other friend. This new person combined with Lucas’ weird mood, something he’s regretting already and damning his brain for has him dialled down a few notches. He wants to speak to him, but how? Pretty boys make him nervous.

“Eliott, dude, how can you say that? how can you do this to me, bro?”

Eliott. Oh.

Lucas looks over at Eliott, pretending to search for a fry he wants so as not to be obvious, even though they’re all identical because they’re McDonald’s french fries, and it’s not like Eliott is even looking at Lucas, he hasn’t even glanced at him once, Lucas thinks, but that’s beside the point.

Eliott shrugs his shoulders, an amused smile on his lips at Idriss’ outraged expression.

“This is the guy who made us watch Lost in Translation and Pride and Prejudice a hundred thousand times.” Sofiane interjects, laughing.

The question slips out Lucas’ mouth before he realises the thought has turned into actual spoken words. “2005?” His voice quiet.

Green-grey eyes meet his. Eliott. His brows are furrowed, his eyes curious, like he’s just seeing Lucas for the first time despite having been sat opposite him for the past forty minutes.

“See, you’re saying he ‘made you’ but all I’m hearing is that you wanted to given how many times you’ve watched it.” Imane smirks, Sofiane barks out another laugh, and Idriss’ glare redirects towards Imane, all of them not having heard Lucas’ question.

It’s strange how it happens. As the rest of the gang continue their conversation in vivacious voices, Lucas and Eliott hold eye contact, like looking away would cost them a great deal, like a black hole will open up and swallow the world if they do.

“What did you say?” Eliott asks, an arm on the table, his face resting on a closed fist.

Lucas scans Eliott’s arms, sinewy and smooth and dusted with light hairs; he avoids looking at his chest because he doesn’t wanna ogle the guy when he can see. He’s not an idiot.

“2005.” He could elaborate but he wants to hear Eliott speak, and it’s obvious what he meant.

“Hm.” is all Eliott says.

Lucas is feeling slightly flustered, but he’s not anxious and his cheeks aren’t heating up, thank fuck. He looks away from Eliott’s eyes because it’s a lot to take, the look in Eliott’s eyes — all heat and curiosity like a particularly inquisitive bird. But heat for what? Lucas knows where his is coming from because look at him, Eliott is all model-looking and soft-spoken. Hopefully he’s not an asshole. That would just be Lucas’ luck.

Lucas steadies himself, hand no longer in Manon’s grasp. He mimics Eliott’s position because he’s trying to fill the silence and he’s thinking over Eliott’s response, wondering if he should’ve just kept his mouth shut, but Eliott’s still looking at him — he hasn’t turned away, rolled his eyes or ignored Lucas — and he can’t deal with this silence because what does it mean? So he breaks it.

“It’s the only valid version. Nothing beats that hand flex.”

Eliott breaks his own silence. “Thank you for validating my taste in films.” A small smile, almost shy.

“I love you, most ardently.” As soon as the words leaves his mouth, Lucas wants to take them back, who comes out with that to someone they’ve just met?

Yann glances up at that, confusion clear on his face, he looks from Lucas (cheeks finally beginning to blush) to Eliott, and motions for Lucas to switch places with him.

Lucas utters no words but does as he’s told, now sitting firmly beside Eliott, and avoiding the backward glance Yann gives him before rejoining his conversation with Manon and Baz.

“Have you seen Moonlight?” Eliott inquires, his whole body shifted to face Lucas, leaning against the side of his chair. His eyes have retained their curiosity but there’s also a spark of mischief there.

Strands of Lucas’ hair fall across his face, forming a partial shield and he lets them be. A sort of mask protecting him against unknown intentions; these strange feelings swimming around in his head and stomach. He shakes his head no in response.

It’s like Lucas’ admission has turned a switch on in Eliott’s brain because he’s suddenly speaking. A lot. There’s a palpable excitement behind his words, a passion at odds with his precious calm and brevity.

“Well, I’m not an expert or anything, not like you so I don’t know if it’s a valid opinion,” he teases. “But it’s a fucking beautiful film. Not only the story and the themes it explores, but the acting: the verbal non-communication; the yearning and the fear and the hope. The cinematography? I’ve not seen anything like it. Ok, I need to stop before I start crying. Trust me, you have to see it.”

“It’s not going to make me cry is it?”

“Will that stop you from watching it?”

Lucas ponders a second too long because Eliott is leaning forward into Lucas’ space, elbows on his knees, serious expression on his face, like Lucas’ response will hold a secret to the universe.

“You’ll have to show it to me.” Lucas quips.

Eliott’s eyes widen a fraction. He’s sitting back and Lucas feels a tug in his gut he ignores. Maybe it was a bit too forward? God, he’s probably in a relationship and Lucas has made him feel entirely uncomfortable and that’s the power of Lucas Lallemant, turning the good into the bad. Well done, congratulations to him, he’s done it again.

“You can stream it. I mean, I don’t have the dvd because I saw it in the cinema, but I’ve watched it at home too, on my laptop, which is what I meant to say. We can watch it online. At mine. On my laptop...?” Eliott looks about himself, dragging a hand across his face and sighing before glancing up through his lashes at Lucas.

Lucas is grinning. “Yeah, we should do that. At yours. On your laptop.”

Lucas is rewarded with a sheepish smile, pink tongue wetting the softest looking lips, and a light laugh that is cut off short.

They both lock eyes and look away immediately, a shared embarrassment of sorts. The formulation of words a convoluted task in the presence of this new and intriguing person. But slowly, as if pulled by magnets or the cosmic forces of the universe, their eyes dance their way back up to each other, tethered by a feeling — not that they know each other but that they’re meant to. Lucas doesn’t admit this though.

“I’m guessing you’re a fan of Lady Bird, then.” Lucas rushes to speak before he’s consumed by thoughts of pink lips.

“Maybe I am, and what about it?” There’s a teasing lilt to his words, deep lines emerge around his eyes: his eyes are laughing.

“Manon’s obsessed. She loved Moonlight, too.”

A furrow of the brows. “Manon?” Eliott asks.

Lucas indicates Manon with a thumb. “The pretty brunette.”

“Ah.”

Before he can try to interpret that look, and he wants to, they’re both cajoled back into conversation by their friends. They exchange mutual expressions of disappointment, gift the other with a secret smile.

“Basile, you can’t speak like that about girls.” Manon scolds.

As the night wears on and Lucas is wishing he was home all tucked up in bed in a blanket burrito, his eyes find themselves on Eliott once again, who is drawing on a napkin. Blunt, black lines mar the white fabric; long fingers folded pressed around a biro. Lucas can’t make out what it is until a few moments later when he feels a brush of soft fabric against his knee. It’s a raccoon and a hedgehog at a cinema? Thoroughly confused, he looks up in askance at Eliott, but Eliott is nodding along to whatever Sofiane is saying.

Yann is shouting his name, because apparently embarrassing nicknames are ripe for use in social situations such as these where there’s a cute boy.

“Lulu!”

Lucas rolls his eyes and glares at Yann. Yann doesn’t have the courtesy to look chagrined. Nope, he is grinning like a buffoon (in Lucas opinion), all mischief and purpose in his expression.

“Remember when-“ Satan’s words, let’s be real, nothing good can come of them so Lucas intercedes.

“Nope, I don’t.”

“But you didn’t let me-“ Yann protests.

“Goodbye.” Lucas stands abruptly and goes to the bathroom. His departure probably won’t prevent Yann from spilling whatever embarrassing thing Lucas has done, and let’s face it, the possibilities are endless, but Lucas doesn’t have to be there to hear it and see the look on pretty Eliott’s face, just the thought makes ugly butterflies crowd his stomach and his underarms begin to sweat.

He breathes out evenly when he enters the bathroom. Not actually needing to go, he glances about the space, and notices his reflection in the mirror, he almost doesn’t recognise that look. He hasn’t felt like this in a while: happy. And there’s something else there, something he’s never felt in all his eighteen years, reflected in his sharp, blue eyes that hold a glow of hope and wonder. He notices his hair, unkempt and longer than he’s ever worn it before, but he likes it. It’s new. If Lucas believed in signs he’d take this new look of bright eyes and long hair and the feelings as an indicator of a new beginning.

His thoughts are disrupted by the swing of the bathroom door and Eliott is there. He’s tall, Lucas notices, around a head taller than him.

Eliott nods back to the table where their friends are sat. “Everyone’s leaving, I think.”

“Oh, okay.” Lucas nods his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his blue bomber jacket.

They look at each other for a second longer than necessary completing their dance of quiet looks for the evening, before Lucas nods his head again and starts towards the bathroom door.

“I was thinking, and I know we’ve only just met,” A nervous laugh punctuated by a hand brushing through hair. “But, if you’re still up for it, I was thinking that maybe you might want to watch Moonlight today.”

He stops a foot away from Eliott, tilting his eye back to look him in the eye. “Later or...?”

“Now.”

That’s how Lucas ends up on the quiet streets of three am Paris walking towards a stranger’s apartment.

They drifted off in the opposite direction to everyone but Manon to hoots and hollers that were certain to dampen the mood in Lucas’ opinion, alas, he was still reeling from his accepted invitation, his mind much too preoccupied to roll his eyes at le gang or bite out a sarcastic retort. Manon leaves them at the next street, venturing off in the direction of Lucas’ own home, she squeezes his hand before wishing them a good night and she’s off. Gone. Alone.

He’s looking down at their shadows — his and Eliott’s — illuminated by lamp posts, elongated and distinctive in their varying heights. He watches their hands brush together while his own, very real hand, is met with a cool breeze instead.

“I like this time of day.” Eliott voices.

Lucas looks up finally and shrugs. “Seriously? Aren’t you cold?” He points towards Eliott’s chest, revealed by the open buttons of his shirt, and turns, walking backwards so he can look Eliott in the eye without being blinded by the yellow superficial light lit at intervals on the pavement. “Who wears a shirt like that in this weather?” He teases.

Eliott shrugs in return. “You don’t like it?”

There’s something in the air, now completely and entirely sober, his thoughts are running straight for his tongue. “It looks good on you.”

A grin. “Just good, huh?”

Lucas looks down, retreating to his spot beside Eliott and bumping his hip against his. “More than good.”

Eliott bumps Lucas’ hip back, sliding a hand down his arm, and Lucas’ breath is caught in his throat at the feather-light touch, culminating in a shaky out-breath of disappointment when Eliott’s hand doesn’t make contact with his.

He needs to catch his breath. It’s all so new and thrilling. The anticipation.

They pick up their pace as a light patter of rain starts to fall on them. If anyone awake in the city of Love were to stop and listen, they might hear the delirious laughter of two boys, tired and hearts-pumping and alive. If they were to pull open their shutters and push up their windows, they might see these same two boys kicking dirty, puddle water at each other, brushing shoulders and gazing shyly at one another. They would notice that while this is all new, made obvious by the daring but hesitant hand holding, there is a spark of something in the air that seems to have caught these boys up in its spell.

[shapeshifting-arch-mage]

Port Town Grillby’s RP, Part 2

Well... after all of that, we finally have our fries. We'd better eat them up quick- the sooner we finish, the sooner we can get down from Baku's lap. But before we can take a bite, the free-roaming parasite spits its fries out! What the-?!

[Haze] Haze honestly wasn’t completely sure how or why he was here, but, hey, he was a curious parasite, and this area was new to him, may as well explore. The scene he walks in on does a mix of cause a grow in curiosity, and just weird him out a hint, adjusting his sunglasses and glancing over the few others in here, namely pausing his eyes on Baku- the only one he knew- before hesitantly strolling all the way in, hanging back to watch this interesting scene with furthering curiosity, eye-lights shining behind his sunglasses.

[Frisbee] Frisbee would quietly watch, he doesn't know what to say, neither does mun. So he just watched.

[Baku] Baku startled when he felt a sudden biting pain in his arm, nearly knocking Temmie out of his lap but managing to keep them in place. However once the bite strengthened and he felt some of his energy draining he growled as the lights in his eyes flared up for a second before stabilizing once again. He then yanked the creature off his arm without toppling Temmie and slid it across the counter despite wanting to throw it into the wall but managing to keep his cool. "Little pest, again wit the bs o' me gettin' funkin' attacked when I did nothin' wrong." It was clear Baku was irritated but he managed to calm down after taking a deep breath. "Just tryin' ta relax while enjoyin' a bro an' a fan's company fer funk sake, is dat too much ta ask jeez." It was at this point Baku heard the familiar sound of the door opening and turned to see who had entered, grinning when he spied a familiar face. "Yo Haze, how's it hangin' haven't seen ya in a while, whatcha doin' at Port Town broseph."

[Johan] Johan watches from a bit aways as his parasite is yanked off in a way that makes it painful just to watch. It rolls slightly before getting its bearing and looks up to Baku, clearly upset about that, before slinking away. Johan tries not to react, but the word pest echoes through his mind. Finally, the squeaking of the opening door pulls him out of it and he looks over to the newcomer. “Hello?”

[Rave Witch Temmie] "awawah!1!"

Baku's reaction to the parasite startles us, and reminds me a little of our first meeting... except of course, that yellow thing obviously wasn't trying to protect me from Baku like Carrie was. Pfah.

Oh, no... some of the fries spilled. Ugh...

We scoop out a handful of the fries that didn't spill and stuff them in our mouth. We need to start eating, now.

[Haze]  Haze watched this all with confusion, but jumps some when finally addressed, giving his normal smile to Baku, shifting where he stood a moment, before walking up and offering a simple high five in greeting, "Yo yo bro, uhh... Dunno exactly, jus' uhh, checkin' shiz out, lookin' round ya know??" He says simply, before glancing at the other voice that gave a soft hello, grinning some, "Heyo broski, names Haze, what’s your name??" This time, a hand is outstretched in more of fist-bump gesture, looking to the new face curiously.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Nom nom nom... Huh? Someone else is in here? And he knows Baku, too? We can't ask him who he is just yet, as we haven't finished chewing our fries. We need to focus on that. Just forget about Baku for a second... just chew the fries, just chew the fries...

[Frisbee] Frisbee would keep spectating, growing anxious again, so many parasites from what he can tell, even if they were friendly, he was thinking on how this group should be enemies, ah he's thinking too hard again, rip.

[Baku] Baku makes a noise of surprise when the food spilled but quickly cleaned it up before his favorite shorts got stained. He then huffed at the peep, "Don't like it than don't bite me next time aiight, it was a jerk reaction so sorry but deal." It was at this point Haze greeted him and he grinned as he returned the high five, "Ah gotcha, well this is a p' cool place so can't blame ya." This is when he noticed the other person in the room and grinned, waving slightly, "Yo didn't see ya there, what's up my man?"

[Johan] Johan watches everything going on silently, but when he’s greeted he can’t help but let off a small smirk. He reaches his hound out in a fist as a response of sorts. “Heya! My name is Johan!” before the impact of the fist bump by now, his hand suddenly shifts before clasping the other’s hand. He grins innocently as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong. “But you could call me Dedtimee!” the yellow parasite by now decided to get away from the crowd and looks around for some random person elsewhere in the pub. An NPC you could call it. If it finds one, it latches onto the back of the person’s neck and starts doing its thing soft enough to somehow not be noticed. It’s basically just a neon leech at this point.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Nom nom... gulp. We finish our first mouthful of fries. We take a second handful, trying to keep any more fries from spilling out of the container while Baku jostles us about as he moves.

[Haze] Haze looks at them curiously-if he was a dog his tail would be wagging for sure-smiling big before letting a slight hint of confusion dawn onto his face as they grasp his hand, "Uh..heh, 'ight broski!! Nice to meet ya...??" He says simply, "That ain’t quite how ya do a fist bump though bro, ain’t gonna lie, but you do you," Seems Haze doesn’t care too much about the failed fist bump, though he does cast another glance down at his hand as if he'd been hoping for one for some inevitably non-important reason.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Who is this guy.

Why does he know Baku.

Why are we still sitting here on his lap.

We put our second handful of fries in our mouth. Nom nom nom...

[Frisbee] Frisbee was uh.. sitting there, quietly having a sudden panic attack, yep he's uh... not okay, so... don't mind him shaking in his seat and being in the corner of said seat now.

[Baku] Baku turned back and relaxed in his chair once more. However shortly after he noticed Frisbee freaking out and raised a brow bone. "Yo you aiight broseph, ya don't look so good, maybe you should get a room at the hotel an' crash fer a bit or heck maybe even head home, seems like that skele you were wit before has forgotten 'bout ya anyway." As he was talking his arms wrapped around Temmie once more so that she wasn't jostling about as much.

[Rave Witch Temmie] "mmrrrmrrrgh... mmmrghtr rrt mrrr..." We can't talk with our mouth full. We quickly finish chewing the fries and swallow hard. Ouch... that took more effort to swallow than I would have liked. Too bad we don't have a drink... "awawaaa... Bakuuuu... i gotta eat my friiiiies..."

It's a little harder for us to get the fries out of the container and to our mouth with him hugging us like this. I can already feel my heart- or is that my soul- shaking like a leaf. Wait, maybe he's doing this on purpose to prolong our stay. Ugh, that scumbag... His hug does feel kinda nice, though... 

[Johan] Johan soon lets go of the other’s hand and nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” after a moment his hand goes to fidget with his necklace nervously as he stares at what the other is wearing. At this moment he finally wakes up completely and realizes what the others are wearing. God does it hurt his eyes. “Excuse me for a second.” Johan stands and goes over to Baku and RWT and tries his best kind smile, a bit nervously. “Hey, Tem? I just wanted to see if you were OK. Last night you... well I don’t remember quite clearly but I do remember worrying about you. I’m not sure what it was but I do know you left and I blacked out, woke up under a table or something... How are you today?” He didn’t realize he was about to ramble until the last part where he just skipped to the point. He looks tired still. None of this has woken him up at all.

[Rave Witch Temmie] "t-today?? awawa... i was realy hungry... i gotta eat my fries but Bakus makin it kinda hard..." Looks like Temmie and I are getting back into the habit of speaking as one. Baku's unexpected return last week had thrown off our coordination and has been making it hard for us to act in unison lately, due to our conflicting feelings about him. Good to know that we're making at least some progress on being able to act like one individual again...

[Haze] Haze wasn’t entirely sure as to what to do right now, eventually settling with sitting beside Baku, the ears of his hat flopping some as he just plops himself down, glancing curiously at the Temmie in Baku’s lap, head tilting some.

[Rave Witch Temmie] "Hnnnn, this is so creepyyyy...

Baku's hugging uuuusss... It's so creepyyyy... It's kinda nice...

But it's so CREEPY...!! Maybe we should hug him back...

Ugggh!! We need to finish our fries!!"

Our minds are racing a mile a minute. We need to eat our fries. Baku is distracting us. The others are distracting us. We need to eat our fries.

Baku is hugging us~  WE NEED. TO. EAT. OUR. FRIES.

[Frisbee] Frisbee would take a minute or so to reply, shivering.

"Th-thinkin' too much yo." He would glance to the others, attempting to relax again. "Oh he never seems to forget, he'll find me sooner or later..."

[Rave Witch Temmie] We attempt to grasp a single French fry from the container with the limited amount of space our arms have. Once we have it in our grip, we sneak it into our mouth. munch, munch...

[Baku] Baku lowered his arms so that they were wrapped around Temmie's waist so that it was easier for her to eat and then nodded. "Well either way maybe ya should head home fer a bit, get some time ta yerself before he comes back."

[Johan] Johan sighs and smiles. “At least you’re alright then.” He looks to Baku and considers just stealing the tem out of his arms and walking off with them. Of course he can’t do that though. “Well... I don’t feel comfortable here and you don’t seem comfy either... I would suggest to go elsewhere but I’m starving and I need food so... I guess that’s out of the question?” He shrugs nervously. By now that NPC from before would faint, causing a cluttering sound from falling headfirst into the table. The parasite jumps off and slinks into hiding before anyone can suspect anything hopefully, but that sound might’ve just attracted unwanted attention.

[Haze] Haze glances over some at the clatter of some random person falling against the table, casting a glance around... Was no one else put off by this? Because he sure as heck was, tilting his head some more and glancing to Baku, "This place is all up freakin' wacky..." he mutters simply.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Okay, phew, we can move our arms again. Just a few more fries to go, and then we’ll be done. Our throat’s feeling a little uncomfortable from being made to swallow so many fries so quickly (up to six or seven at once), but if it can just hold out for two more mouthfuls, we’ll be home free. We scoop out our third handful of fries, but before we can put them in our mouth, we hear someone’s head bang against the table.

“EEEEP!1!!1” Startled, we squeeze our paw around the fries we’re holding, hug the container against our chest with the other, and whip our head in the direction the loud bang came from.

[Frisbee] Frisbee was about to say something, but the noise caused him to jump and look over, confused once again, but he would quickly look back at Baku, frowning. “Yeah brah I really should, but this place intrigues me. I feel like I should look ‘round a bit while I still can, then go back home.”

[Baku] Baku looked at the person who was talking to Temmie and raised a brow bone, though the curiosity on his face soon vanished and was replaced with a glare. He then moved to say something but was cut off by a loud bang which startled him slightly and he instantly turned his head to look at where the sound had come from. When he saw the person fainted at the other table confusion flashed across his face before it went completely stoic. It was at this point Frisbee distracted him with talking and Baku turned his attention to that, nodding. "Yeah like I said this place is full o' cool stuff, walkin' around can be real interestin' so I totally get what ya mean bro."

[Johan] Johan heard the sound and seeing everyone react he then pretends to be startled, not making any sound along with it though as to not draw attention to his delayed reaction. Soon he looks around for a place to sit near RWT, feeling like he should talk to them. He also goes to order food, not seeming very sure of what to eat. He ends up getting chips. The parasite peeks out of hiding to see that everyone but Johan seemed to hear the sound. Dang. It can’t get away now can it? It then slinks back into hiding hoping to wait the attention out.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Who was that? What happened to them?? Are they okay?! As worried as we are about the person who just fell, we can’t check on them yet because we’re not done with our fries! We move our fry tray back into our lap and stuff the fries we were holding into our mouth.

munch munch, nom nom... Only a few more fries left after we get this mouthful down. We can eat the rest of them in one more bite.

Just keep chewing, just keep chewing... Let’s hug Baku after this- no, just keep... chewing...

[Haze] Haze seemed a hint more curious about the passed out bar patron than everyone else apparently, because he actually walks over, poking at them some, though he wasn’t observant enough to notice the nearby hiding parasite.

[Frisbee] Frisbee would soon get up, going over as well, silent as he thought on what to do, he couuulld pick them up and place them somewhere... but honestly he didn't want to, he couldn't be bothered to do so, why did he walk over anyway? Hm...

[Rave Witch Temmie] Okay, phew, the others are getting up to check on whoever fell over. That means we can keep focusing on our fries. Munch munch munch... Just chew and swallow. Chew and... swallow. There we go.

Ow, our throat’s getting sore...

“We’re almost done, Temmie.” I think to her. “Just one more bite, okay? Just one more. Can you hold out for one more bite?”

“awawa... ok...”

“Thank you, Temmie. You don’t know how much this means to me, that you’re willing to do this. Thank you so-”

“can we hug Baku after th-”

“Just focus on the fries, Temmie.”

[haltandcatchfiretothemax]

It's cool cos we're like, adventurers: Cameron and Donna go about things differently than they normally would in "Adventure", or, a H&CF recap

The fifth episode of Halt and Catch Fire is named for a computer game that everyone (or, a good portion of the Cardiff staff) gets sucked into; in the end, the coders who cheated/re-coded (?) their way through the game are the only ones who get to keep their jobs. It is Peak Halt and Catch Fire Metaphor, in this case for an episode where our main characters are initiating or escalating a different sort of game, and finding out what kind of players they are. J*e toys with his father (and also Bos, who only has one scene in this ep?), unwilling and also not really able to see him, and vacillates between behaving as obnoxiously as his father does and trying to be a better, kinder type of executive. Gordon steps out of his hardware geek comfort zone and attempts to wine and dine his father-in-law and Japanese executives, and it works out in the end, but just barely, and because he begs for help. Ultimately, both seem to recognize their limits.

Donna gets very little screen time in this episode, and most of it is with Hunt, of all people (RosaDiazEyeroll DOT GIF). Her parents are all over this episode, though they interact more with Gordon, and the way Donna gets eclipsed feels significant. When we do see her she's making French toast for her father's birthday, or making peach pies for her parents' barbeque. Ever the perfect wife, she even buys her father a putter and tells him it's from Gordon. All of this elaborately sets up Gordon's arc, in which he decides his p.c. is worth asking his douche of a father-in-law for a round of golf so he can ask him to set up a meeting executives from a Japanese tech company.

By contrast, Donna's scenes with Hunt are one-on-one, with no major professional stakes. Echoing J*e's evil boss act, Hunt yells at Donna for not submitting the right report, and then after she explains that the report is under a supplemental report, he snaps at her for not putting the report he wanted on top. Let that sink in -- Hunt yelled at Donna because he's so entitled and incompetent that he couldn't shuffle through a stack of papers; again, how is he her boss? (LOL jk I know how, it starts with a 'p' and ends with 'atriarchy') -- but later he calls her at home to talk about it, just after Donna has hung up on a drunk Gordon who's panicking about offending the Japanese executives. (Which sounds mean, but anyone who's been paying attention can see where Donna would be tired of having to endlessly listen to and reassure Gordon.) Hunt compliments her work and her efforts, and then he apologizes for taking his frustration out on her. They have a weird conversation about 'peach pie' (…..), and because Donna is so starved for halfway decent conversation with a vaguely grown up, emotionally responsible person, she gets out and ~plays her electric piano~ that night. Which sounds funny and like a cheesy, too on the nose metaphor, but this is one of the first times we see Donna by herself, not doing some kind of domestic labor, and it's when she starts to lean into and enjoy the tension between her and Hunt.

It seems like Cameron is always doing what Donna wishes she could do (as in, what Donna wishes she could do professionally, not in terms of 'piano playing'…), and this episode is no different. Cameron spends most of "Adventure" assertively claiming credit for her work, arguing with coworkers, and figuring out how to get herself promoted. She comes back from a business trip (which she understandably worries was another of J*e's set ups, even without really knowing what happened in the previous episode) to an office full of new people and a short lecture on how corporate and tech culture don't accommodate anxious introverts who'd rather do all the coding on their own so that they don't have to try to communicate with other human beings. She goes directly from the lecture to The Kill Room where Gordon and his team are coming up with the most ridiculously cliche geek culture names for her code. "Excuse me? I wrote the BIOS. I name it. Lovelace." After she reminds them that Ada Lovelace was the first computer programmer ever, they test the BIOS and it turns on. They pop champagne and congratulate themselves; Cameron skulks out without a word before they can offer her some, though she probably would've had to demand that from them, too, to get any.

In the following scenes Cameron struggles to adjust to having a new boss, fellow coders, and, as America's Next Top Model Host Tyra Banks might put it, not being the prettiest girl at school anymore. Meaning, Cameron isn't the only young misfit software writer at the office anymore, and it's both inconvenient and genuinely emotionally challenging for her. The writers and Mackenzie Davis quietly add considerable depth to an already compelling character here, addressing and unpacking a lot of gripes that unsympathetic viewers continue to have about Cameron. We see her interact successfully, if awkwardly with Lev and especially Yo-yo, who invites her to a group hang, and she hesitates; so yeah, she's anti-social, but she's also scared, and seems like she really isn't used to people not judging or looking down on her.

She interacts far less successfully with her new boss, and yeah, she doesn't respond well to authority -- but with how both the boss and J*e treat her ("no need to get your panties in a wad"; "If I've given you the impression that because of this thing we've got going on that you're entitled to special treatment…") , she frankly has good reason to not trust them. (And yeah, I'm gonna be That Bitch and point out that neither of them would have spoken to a male employee that way.) And yes, Cameron in an entitled young white woman (though lets be real, no one would be calling a white boy genius entitled), but she also is apparently qualified, it's just that she has to be unattractively forward about showing it. File under: Before You Write Cameron Howe Off As An Unlikeable Brat.

Of course all of this sets up Cameron's unexpected meeting with J*e Sr., which is surprisingly satisfying despite being miserable and uncomfortable. We see a retread of the pilot scene where J*e figured out that the way to get to her is to paternally and warmly praise her work; Cameron is characteristically ~sassy~ with J*e Sr. until he tells her, "When my guys came back to New York they couldn't stop talking about this prodigy named Cameron Howe!" She's skeptical, and then he says, "They said you're the modern Ada Lovelace." Boom. In the next scene they're having drinks. It's going fine and Cameron is adorably geeking out over how J*e Sr. worked with Grace Hopper until he figures out that Cameron's father was killed in action while serving as a helicopter crew chief in Vietnam. Anyone who's lost a parent who actually took care of them feels Cameron's reaction. She excuses herself, and J*e Sr. smiles unctuously. Because of course he’s been playing her.

Cameron figures it out though, and it results in her eventual triumph. Or well, she mostly figures it out -- she uses her very real grief to act all wounded and emotional and pump J*e Sr. for more information, before calling him out on trying to manipulate her into convincing J*e to see him. I'm pretty sure J*e Sr. was trying to poach her because it would hurt J*e, and that Cameron is still underestimating just how comfortable they are with turning people into pawns. She gets what she needs, though, and the following day she uses her rarely seen practical knowledge to dazzle J*e into giving her her boss' job; in effect, she figures out the (corporate bro) code, and rewrites it into her promotion. Cameron is slowly learning what someone like Donna already knows about corporate structures and dealing with male upper management. Now they just gotta figure out how to not sublimate their ambitions into pesky crushes on the upper management!

Stray bytes:

I love how all we see of Cameron's business trip is her spending Cardiff's money on hotel amenities. #incharacter I still have weird feelings about her not knowing what a concierge is, though

The opening montage is brutal though, did you see J*e trying to put on his shoe? Reminder that yes, he's an out of control abuser, but that J*e was the victim of p*lice violence/brutality. The beating he got in the previous episode was no joke.

J*e, who lied his way into a company, forced it do his bidding, and nearly destroyed it, calling Cameron 'entitled': L M A O

Today in "Oh my G-D Gordon STFU": "I'm not the one screwing Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!" You're not in a position to judge anyone's sanity OR sex life, GORDON, also just accept that Cameron is WAY OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE AND WOULD NEVER DATE YOU

How do we feel about how the show portrays the Japanese executives? Total Orientalist-type nightmare, or am I being overly-critical?

The storyline with the Japanese and their apparently strict corporate etiquette is very Mad Men, which is fine with me, tbh

"Donna was right, you're all hat and no cattle!" Speaking of which, Gordon is officially Halt's Pete Campbell/white dude who has ridiculous sounding outbursts, right? ("Hell's bells, Trudy!" "Not great, Bob!" "It's a shameful, SHAMEFUL DAY!")

As much as Gordon annoys me, his in-laws are terrible to him. Like, Susan really believed the putter was from Gordon? Gary thought Gordon wanted to spend time with him?! W T F. RICH WH*TE PEOPLE ARE SO WEIRD.

Compare Cameron's 'I name the BIOS' with Donna's facetious, "Don't you mean Susan Fairchild?"

According to the internet, a helicopter crew chief's primary job is to maintain the helicopter itself. Cameron's dad was basically a helicopter mechanic, which makes so much sense, if anyone needs me I will be tearing up over the idea of Cameron coping with her grief by taking apart computers as a kid

"You're both disgusting." Cameron Howe, Computer Programmer, Game Designer, and Misandrist

Steve, on Cameron: "She's got a real attitude problem." #THATSMYGIRL

The scene near the end where J*e seems to quietly panic at the idea of Cameron meeting his father. This…is textbook childhood abuse stuff. Just saying.

I'm just gonna say it, ICYMI: petition to make 'playing her electric keyboard' a common euphemism for female masturbation

‘It’s cool cos we’re like, adventures’: Be Your Own Pet, also fronted by a bratty, skinny, Southern bleached blonde known for heckling her own openers actually wrote a song called “Adventurers” back in 2006. How weird is that?!

[lepetitmondedeju]

Bruises, part 3 : Her bruises and cuts confuse my mind it seems she has left herself behind

Word count : 1101

Author note : Here is it part 3, hope you’ll enjoy and that you appreciate that story. As always feedback is appreciated as usual. Tag list is at the end and is still close till March 21st. Domestic violence is not normal, don’t let that happen even once because it’ll happen again, run away or go to the police or call special numbers for domestic violence.

Warnings : Physical and mental domestic violence, mentions of injuries.

Song of the title : My Little Sister, Cornholio (didn’t found a link for that song, so if someone knows that song, I’d like to have link but I found that the lyrics fit with that part)

Masterlist

Bruises masterlist

Part 2

Few hours later, I sneak back in my bedroom. She’s still asleep. She looks peaceful. That’s not the first time that she stumble in here in the middle of the night with some new injuries or bruises. She denies it all the time, but I know who did that to her, Adam, that jerk that her boyfriend is. He seemed to be a nice boy at first, but then everything changed.

I still remember the day Y/N left for college, she wanted to study in Europe at the same school I went, in France more precisely. I looked at my adorable sister and her Y/H/C hair passing the security gates of the airport, shouting me a big bright smile. She’s not even eighteen, her purple shoulder bag across her chest, dressed with a New York t-shirt, a bluejeans short and black Converse, she’s ready to conquer the world, another Stark on her way to success. She was brillant, always have been, since her young age, my smart little sister. I’ve not always been a good exemple for her, I must admit that I spent a lot of time partying and having a lot of conquests as soon as she was old enough to take care of herself. But, when she needed it, I was there, most of the times and then, she grew up and didn’t need me as much as she did. After our parents’ death, she saw a lot of doctors, took a lot of meds. It helped her but that’s when she started to swim that she began to feel better. She was good, still is, she had a lot of prices at school in addition of her good grades. My baby sister ready to be one of the greatest people in the world.

Until she met him, Adam. It happened when she was twenty, he was one of her classmate, American too, studying aboard thanks to a scholarship. He wasn’t my sister’s first boyfriend, but more confident than those she dated before, tall, handsome as hell, as she said the first time she told me about him, dirty blond hair and green eyes, polite, clever, he looked like the perfect son-in-law, except that he wasn’t. Once they graduate, they settled down in New York, Y/N wanted to come back home and he followed her. She had a place in Stark Industries with her name on it since her birth but after a few times, she decided to give it up, the job wasn’t for her, she didn’t fit in it, she wanted to do something else. She started to give French lessons to kids who needed help. Violences started something like a year later.

One day, we had a lunch date, she showed up with a black eye, pretending she bumped in the door. A few weeks later, she said that she twisted her wrist. And every time, she found a new excuse for a new injury. I didn’t like that guy from the beginning, from the first time I met him, I wanted to punch his stupid face and the satisfied smug he had on his lips, he wore a face saying : ‘Look at me, I’m dating Howard Stark’s only daughter, I won the goose that laid the golden eggs’, showing her around as if she was a trophy he won at the fair. I noticed the guy’s jealousy and comportment by myself a few weeks after the New York battle against Loki. I threw a party at the tower and all the Avengers were there and a few agents of the SHIELD. For once, Adam wasn’t stuck at my sister’s side and she was happily chatting and laughing with Steve. Adam was at the other side of the room and I saw his face changing when he spotted his girlfriend and the super soldier, her hand on his arm, her cristal laugh resonating in the room. I’ve never seen someone’s expression change that fast, he suddenly left the guy he was talking to to walk to Y/N and grabbed her wrist before pulling her in the hallway under Steve’s dumbfounded look and nearly threw her in a wall, her back making a thud when it bumped it. I followed them quietly.

“What do you think you’re doing ?”, he angrily asked.

“I was just talking to Steve”, she replied.

“Oh yeah, and since how long is he Steve ?”, he questioned, insisting on Cap’s name.

“He told me I could call him by his name.”

“And what about your hand on him ?”

“That’s nothing just a friendly gesture.”

“There is no friendly gesture”, he suddenly shouted, taking Y/N’s both wrists in his hands and pining them to the wall, his face merely inches from hers. “No one has the right to touch you, you’re mine, you understand that in that stupid little head of yours ? You. Are. Mine.”, he repeated insisting on every words. “Do you want me to make you remember once again ? Like I did the other day ?”

It was all too much for me, I couldn’t let him hurt her, not in front of me, not in my building.

“What’s happening in here ?”, I asked, doing as if I didn’t spy the conversation from the beginning.

“None of your business Stark, it’s between your sister and me”, he answered before leaving the hallway.

“Are you okay baby ?”, I questioned Y/N.

“Yes, I am, don’t worry about me, Adam just drank a little too much tonight. Nothing to worry, really”, she told me, a sad smile playing on her lips.

“You know that you can say anything to me, come here if something goes wrong. You also can find someone so much better for you, someone that is going to treat you well.”

“Everything is okay Tony, don’t you worry for me, I’m a big girl, I’m twenty-four years old, I can handle my life and my boyfriend alone”, she said before following the path of Adam.

A few days later, she landed at the tower, a bruise on her cheek, in tears, her lower lip bleeding. That was the first time of many. Sitting at the foot of the bed, the memories come to my mind. She suddenly stretches, blinks her eyes a few times before looking around her as if she’s trying to remember where she is and then her brown eyes land on me.

“Hey big bro”, she softly says.

“Have you sleep well ?”

She nods for all answer.

“Now we have to talk”, I tell her, before she can say anything else.

Part 4

Tag list :  @hellomissmabel, @marvel-ash, @bovaria, @howlingbarnes, @buckyandsebsinbin, @allandnothing90, @brighterlights, @sebbytrash, @feelmyroarrrr, @ciannabell, @bellejeunefillesansmerci, @hardcorehippos, @amrita31199, @yourtropegirl, @sallyp-53, @ghostssss, @totheendofthelinepal, @mrs-lamezec, @mrs-squirrel-chester, @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt, @caplanbuckybarnes, @poe-also-bucky, @belleetlabeast, @crazychick010, @lilacs-lavender, @buckysberrie, @dreamer1495, @marvelfanuniverse, @gondorgirl01, @james–bucky-barnes, @smilingwsoldier, @asirenscalling, @re2d2, @callingmrsbarnes, @writingruna, @iamthemaskhewears, @candycountries, @youandb, @sebbys-girl, @winchester-with-wings, @jarnesbrnes, @after-avenging-hours, @maybe-mikala, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @stormyfandoms, @kerzenphilosophie, @winchesterenthusiast, @vibranium-ass, @nenyakj, @buckysbackpackbuckle, @theycallmebucky, @oneshot-shit, @papi-chulo-bucky, @thatawkwardtinyperson, @marvelous-fvcks, @purplekitten30, @just-call-me-mrs-captain, @captain-amelia-bradley, @katbird787, @evilxcupcakexnik , @marvel-music-books, @thenightmarebeforebucky, @emilyevanston, @i-want-to-fuck-that-dorito-man, @queenllamamama13, @saffreelove, @learisa, @tequilavet, @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople

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[cinnalin-roll-blog]

annalise hamilton (part one)

a/n : omg i know this isn’t that big of a deal but i have 11 followers and i can’t believe that many people enjoy my writing ahhh. and i know the prologue said how she felt about our fave guys but i wanna describe how she met them. summary : anna and hammy arrive and meet the one and only aaron burr … and also the revolutionary set warnings : uhhhh i don’t think any except language, oh and badly translated french word count : 1,285 • Annalise and Alexander got to America with pretty much nothing except for dreams of making it big. They were looking for a way to go to Princeton, but it didn’t go as planned, thanks to Alex’s short temper. Anna loved Alex, but god, he got on her nerves. First of all, he really needs to work on his anger management. He was always getting them glares from people in public and kicked out of places. Second of all, he was always talking over her. Believe it or not, Annalise had some pretty good ideas. People liked to over look her because she was a girl, and now Alexander? It was annoying. Third of all, he was such a baby at times. He always thought he was SO cool, when really all he was doing was making enemies. But enough of that. They were walking around, trying to find Aaron Burr. She had heard his name before, and not just when Alex was blabbing about him, but Anna didn’t exactly understand why he was so important. She could easily be as smart as him. And she probably already was. They reached the tavern where Alex said Aaron would be. As soon as they got inside, he went straight for a bald man in the corner. Anna caught up to Alex and gave him a look that said, “Hold on a minute.” Anna tapped on the man’s shoulder and said, “Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?” He took her hand and kissed the back of it and then looked at Alex and quickly responded, “That depends, who’s asking?” Annalise started to respond, but was quickly cut off by her brother who said, “Oh well sure, sir. I’m Alexander Hamilton, I’m at your service sir. I have been looking for you.” Actually both of the Hamiltons had been looking for him. “We have been looking for you,” Anna thought, “We. Not just you.” After enough of Alexander cutting her off, Anna walked over the the bartender to get a beer. “What’s a pretty little lady like you drinking a beer in this part of town?” A man a couple seats down from her asked. “I actually drink beer, wherever and whenever I feel like drinking it. And I’m sure I can handle myself just fine,” she spit back. Anna wasn’t your typical girl. She was interested in politics, fighting in the war, and definitely preferred wearing pants over dresses. Thank god she was distracted by three men that walked into the bar, laughing loudly. Instead of staying by the pig that was sitting next to her, she walked over to the new men, and caught their names on the way. When she walked up, she saw their blue coats and immediately knew that they were in the military. Maybe they could get a good word put in for her. She was getting ready to introduce herself when the man with a bun, who was called Lafayette, said, “Bonjour jolie dame, voulez-vous venir avec moi? Vous semblez très sexy et je pourrais il son petit ami.” Little did he know that she was fluent in French, so she fired back with a wink, “Eh bien, nous n'avons pas encore rencontré exactement, mais vous êtes assez attrayant que je pourrais le considérer.” His eyes widened as soon as she was done talking, then he said quietly, “I was not expecting you to speak French, um, I’m sorry about that. Forget what I just said please, I am Lafayette.” “I heard you say your name, and these are John Laurens, and Hercules Mulligan, right?” She gestured towards the two other men, who were looking very confused. They nodded and she continued, “I am Annalise Hamilton. I came from the Caribbean with my brother over there,” and she pointed towards Alex, who was still chatting away with Aaron, “but we want to join the military. I see you all are already in it. Do you think you could introduce me to the general?” She knew it was a stretch but she didn’t know how else a girl could get into a war. Hercules spoke up, “Yeah, Lafayette and him are close so I’m sure we could but do you really want to be in a war?” Of course you did. Being a girl doesn’t change that. John looked from Herc to Anna and said, “I wouldn’t doubt her. She looks pretty damn capable to me. Plus, she’s good lookin’. What’s not to like?” Anna felt her cheeks get hot, but she really couldn’t help it. John was cute. Not cute, hot. The way he smiled and the way the little curls that framed his face. It really made her helpless. “So he can flirt but I can’t?” The frenchman said. “Well,” Anna said laughing, “I believe you asked if I wanted to go home with you. Then you proceeded to tell me how I was sexy and you could be my boyfriend.” John and Hercules looked at him at started laughing. “You really said that?” Hercules was dying of laughter. “I’m just kidding Laf. You’re pretty sexy too,” Anna said. She didn’t see John frown when she said that, otherwise she would have felt bad. But there was no way that he could think she was pretty, so Anna was enjoying her time with three attractive men. Who knew? Maybe she would end up falling in love with one of them. (a/n : haha FORESHADOWING) Hercules saw John frowning though. He got up from beside John and went to the side of the booth that Lafayette was on. “Why don’t you sit next to John and we can all get drunk?” Herc said. Anna giggled. John pulled her next to him, and kept his arm around her shoulder. Hercules winked at John and Laf shouted, “Bartender, can we get some Samuel Adams for me and mes amies?” Soon enough, they all were laughing and talking, and being told to shut up by the neighboring tables. Anna had found some friends. And some good ones too. ~ But what do you know? Alex came over and ruined it. Well, not ruined completely, just ruined the moment. He walked over and said, “Anna, there you are, we have to go.” She just looked at him, then said, “Really Alex? Guys, this is my brother, Alexander. He talks. A lot.” Everyone seemed to think it was funny except Alex. All he was doing was glaring at Annalise. She started again, “Really big bro? I’m kidding. Aw, don’t get mad because I got friends before you did. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you joined us.” The guys were all snickering until John said, “Yeah you can join us, but only if you pay for the next round.” This got more laughs from Anna, Laf, and Herc. “Whatever. Keep your hands off my sister,” Alex grunted. Anna and John didn’t realize that she was know leaning on his shoulder and they were holding hands. John started to let go of her hand, but she grabbed it back and said, “Don’t listen to him, all he will do to you is write a paper about how much he hates you.” Then, maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe she really wanted to but Annalise kissed John right on the lips. Everyone went quiet, then John smirked and kissed her back. Lafayette was clapping and Hercules was shouting, while Alex was rolling his eyes and muttering something about how Anna was too much of a flirt. Finally the bartender came over with more drinks and Anna and the guys all drank until they got kicked out. You could say Anna got a first good impression of America. • a/n : how was it? please, please, please let me know what you think, and don’t be afraid to send in requests!! also if you would be down with making a master list for me once i have more writing let me know.

[lodryons]

Zurich & Interlaken

The airport is really nice here. I’m already convinced we should all pay higher taxes just for that. An old man helped me get a train ticket from the kiosk. The train was very sleek and clean. It ran quietly and made me sad that nothing like this exists in America. Everything is so damn clean here. I witnessed the man who owns a bookstore near my accommodation sweeping up fallen tree leaf things (blossom tree ones not like American-style leaves).

The Swiss are all taught German primarily and of course, their English is really good too. They actually speak both German and what is called Swiss-German which I’m told is very different from German. A lot of Swiss also know a fair amount of French and Italian from what I’m told but I can’t say that for sure.

Everything here is very expensive. The minimum annual salary (as in required by law) comes out to be $53,000 a year. The currency is approximately 1:1 with the dollar so it’s quite easy to see how insanely everything is priced. A McDouble is $5. Lattes are around $5-$7 and beer in a bar can be anywhere from $8-$12 for a 33 deciliter or half-liter glass of normal beer. We did get a six-pack of beer for $10 last night so you can do just fine if you don’t go out.

The first night we went to this highly rated Thai place near us. It costed us $100 for 3 beers and 3 entrees. We then went to a bar near us and met a coy Irish guy named David. David wrote some poetry and gave it to two women near us when they were leaving. David is a chef. Other than that I cannot say what I know about David. He surmised that I was a spoiled kid and kept commenting on my hair and ears. We ended up taking a taxi to a dirty street of bars that he said was our only option on a Tuesday night. The taxi was $15 for a 5-minute drive. I spent $80 on a round of drinks. I’m making a lot of monetary mistakes here.

Today we went to a cafe called Bros, Beans, and Beats. It’s a nice cafe that has a 20% hipster vibe to it. The internet works well enough. I paid $6 for a latte. I learned that in France they do half espresso and half filtered coffee in their lattes. I finally know why I thought my latte was disgusting in the Charles De Galle airport. I hate normal coffee. I like my espresso diluted with a gallon of milk.

We walked around Zurich for quite a while. There were a lot of stores. I don’t find most stores interesting. It feels like such a waste of time to aimlessly go form store to store browsing shit you won’t be super happy owning. Every time I aimlessly browse a store and buy something I almost always regret it sooner or later and get rid of the item.

I’ve got a black swan story for you that is for the ages. Christian, Damian and I were sitting by the lakefront enjoying the sun and shooting the shit. At first, there were big ole’ white swans coming up to people looking for food. I’ve never seen a swan from behind swimming. They truly do have a caboose that is crafted for floating in the water. The efficiency of a swan gliding in water is astounding. Soon we spotted some small duck-sized black swans. The probably were not swans but they didn’t look like ducks and that’s the only two birds we really wanted to consider that day so we shall call it a black swan. After sitting for a while we noticed one of the black swans had scooped up a stick in its mouth and began swimming towards a little white boat that was docked perhaps 20 feet from the shore. You have to realize that we just got done shitting on this thing for a while and then it does a complete 180 and acts like a bird on a mission.

It begins ramming the stick between the boat and its rudder. It would inch the stick through so purposefully that we found it hilarious. What could this little guy possibly think he was doing? What was his goal in all of this? Was he trying to nest? Was this a game? We will call this damn bird Bob to inject some dignity into this story.

Bob pushes the last inch of the stick through the rudder and it shoots out the other side. Bob then swims on over, grabs the stick and again, pushes it through the rudder and again, it shoots out the other side. Bob then grabs the stick and instead of playing this boring rudder nesting game finds an inch-wide hole next to the rudder. He then pivots his body and begins ramming it up the boat hole. Bob seems to be enjoying this. Bob starts really going at it and lodges it successfully up the boat hole. We figured this was it. Bob had done it! Bob turns away and aimlessly moves back towards the shoreline bobbing with the waves as Bob loves to do.

About a minute later, Bob finds another stick. We were ecstatic!

It seems rather obvious to me now that I’m writing this that Bob was likely trying to build a nest but at the time it seemed like something much grander than that. Bob strolls up to the boat hole and begins ramming his stick in the same fashion, in the boat hole. Of course, the hole was already filled so only one stick could fit. This boat hole just couldn’t handle two of Bob’s sticks at once. Bob ends up getting the 2nd stick up the hole while losing the 1st stick. The 1st stick just began floating away. Bob then fetched the first stick, shoved it up the hole, and then, of course, the second stick would float away. This went on for a while. Eventually, Bob gave up and just swam away. This was much more fascinating yesterday.

We went to Interlaken yesterday. Interlaken means between two lakes because the city is between two lakes. Initially, we were going to go to Lucerne but Christian doesn’t care about money and wanted to go hang gliding. At $230 for a 15-minute flight, I couldn’t really justify the cost. I didn’t really put up a fight but I shouldn’t have even gone to Interlaken because the damn train ticket was $140 round trip. This is a 2-hour train ride mind you. I’m still sick and blame my lack of assertiveness on that honestly. Anyways I stopped the loss there and just watched for a few hours as hang gliders and paragliders came raining down from above me. The hang gliding company did let me have a few big beers for free so I tossed some shorts on, threw my shirt off and lounged in the sun staring at the landscape. This saved the trip for me. Afterward, we got some authentic Swiss food called Rochi (which is definitely not how you spell it). It’s melted cheese on ham on hash browns. It costed $23 which was oddly cheap to me. That is a sad statement.

There don’t seem to be any homeless people here. I seriously haven’t seen a single person that looked homeless or was just sitting on the sidewalk holding a cup in the air hoping for money.

I’m going to come back to Switzerland but with a few thousand dollars and the intention of doing some proper snowboarding and hang gliding.

I’ve been sick since about April 7th. I never get sick and even when I do it usually lasts a few days. I can’t believe people do this every 2-3 months it’s annoying as hell.