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merakiui · 4 years ago

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I was reading through your tags and you mentioned at some point the kazuscara roommates finding your onlyfans and I think I completely combusted—thus i present to you my brain rot of late: you attend the same school as them but you’re not actually friends, all you know about kazuha is that he’s the friendly regular at the cafe you work at, who makes polite conversation every now and then but otherwise is nothing of note. In reality he’s been stalking you for weeks ever since your first encounter, and is dead set on the idea that you’re this innocent, weak thing that needs to be protected (maybe he stepped in when you had a bad customer and your meek reply helped fester his delusions?). Scara, on the other hand, is only aware of your presence since you’re his favourite cam model that he recently found. (Since he’s a harbinger he’s probs loaded) Weeks of funnelling money towards you cause him to feel this unwarranted possessiveness, believing that since he’s been providing so much in your “relationship” that it’s time you reward him in turn. However, despite the unbridled interest they have toward you neither are aware of each other’s feelings for you— that is, until you happen to run into the both of them heading to your class. While both are known for maintaining their stoic masks, they’re friends for a reason— and instantly can tell the attraction their roommates have towards their own “lover”. After kazuha finds your onlyfans he’s certain that you’ve been coerced and wants to save you, while scara thinks it’s time that he’s stopped letting other plebeians look at his possession—so, despite their initial reservations, come together to form the ideal plan. When you find yourself waking up groggy in a room you don’t recognize, all they can do is look on with glee whilst planning their next course of action with their new belonging. They’re friends after all, and good friends share though, don’t they?

This is v long srry lol you can ignore this ofc!!

AAAH, ANON!! YES!!! <3 I couldn’t resist writing more on this concept. orz They make for such a terrifying pair when they work together!

(cw: yandere, stalking, nsfw, implied kidnapping/drugging, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, delusional thoughts, savior complex, implied violence)

What if Kazuha and Scara were just acquainted with one another and actually became closer through their mutual obsession with you? Yes, they’re roommates and ought to get along because they’re living together but they haven’t exactly clicked yet. They talk every now and then and know little things about each other. Nothing too special. They don’t really hang out outside of their dorm either, what with their class schedules being vastly different. And Kazuha’s always out of the dorm doing who-knows-what. Most of his time is spent at a café, where he’ll write and read and stare at you while you work. On the other hand, Scara prefers to stay inside if he doesn’t have a good reason to go out. He likes his alone time. Although he has enjoyed going to the library every now and then to study.

So maybe they need to find some common ground. Maybe they need a push in the right direction before they get closer.

Kazuha likes to stare. Talking to you is great, but he worries he’ll say too much and then he’ll be a nuisance, or you might not want to talk to him at all since you’re working. But you always regard him with a warm smile, happy to scribble his name on the plastic cup because you remember him. Because you recognize his familiar face and soft, gentle eyes. He’s the one who saved you from that rude customer, after all, and he’s a polite regular. Why wouldn’t you know him? You might look like you can handle those types of situations, but what Kazuha saw that day was something entirely different. You were nervous—so soft-spoken and scared. He absolutely has to protect you from those kinds of people now, doesn’t he?

And he does exactly that. He’s your second pair of eyes—your valiant knight in shining armor—who sees and hears all. Sometimes he goes to the café with the intention to simply watch over you and make sure no one’s bothering you. He can recall one time when a customer was speaking rudely about you because her drink hadn’t been prepared in a ‘timely manner.’ In reality it’s impossible to make a drink within a few seconds, especially when you’re already preoccupied with making another customer’s drink. She must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe she’s just a hateful person in general. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such fiery insults, though.

Her eyes just can’t see your perfection and therefore she does not deserve to see out of them.

Kazuha’s willing to wrestle with all of this darkness if it means you’ll stay safe, oblivious, and pure. You’re like a defenseless kitten, unable to protect yourself from the scary world. He writes about you a lot in his journal; you’re his muse—someone who constantly shows up in poems and short paragraphs where he tries to describe what your dream date might be or what type of wedding you’d prefer. Things get darker the deeper you delve into his writings, where you’ll find entries in great detail. Kazuha writes a lot and he doesn’t even mean to. He just has to get all of his thoughts on paper before they abandon him and he’s left with emptiness.

Everything you do is pure; you’re almost an equivalent to a holy being. Your smell is pure. Your body is pure. Your actions are pure. Your smile is pure. Even when you’re on the verge of crying from harsh customers or when you’re turning down a confession, you’re still pure. And Kazuha likes that about you because it’s special. There aren’t many people in his life who are completely pure. He’s been through a lot of rough things and has seen firsthand how impure people can be. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to protect purity itself.

He might have some impurities, but that doesn’t deter him from watching over you. As gentle and unassuming as he is, there are times when even he loses his composure. Not many are privy to these dark emotions of his. His smiles are sharp and venomous and his eyes fill with a gloom so dark it can swallow you whole. You’ll never see this side of him; he won’t allow it. Instead you’re treated to his sweet, calm side, where he feigns perfection in hopes of catching your interest.

As for Scara… He doesn’t really care about Kazuha in the beginning. He’s just someone he has to live with. It’s not a big deal and as long as he doesn’t try to make lots of pointless conversation everything will be okay. He prefers the peace and quiet, considering he’s acquainted with people who are far from peaceful and quiet. Scara’s relieved that Kazuha leaves the dorm so often because it gives him an opportunity to watch his favorite cam star’s most recent video. He’s your most loyal follower—someone who’s paid lots of money just to have access to the highest tier of rewards and such. He even got a private video where you addressed him and moaned out his name with lustful thoughts of him. Having lots of money comes in handy.

When he finds out that you go to the same school as him, he’s a little shocked. He didn’t expect you to be so close. You’re practically within touching distance. If only he knew your schedule. If only you were in one of his classes. It’s really annoying that he only knows your online presence and not who you might be in your personal life. The last thing he’s going to do is consult Childe, that popular athlete who knows literally everyone in the school for whatever reason. Surely he knows you. But he’ll die before he ever asks Childe for a favor.

Scara loves you out of every other cam model because you’re different. You’re not just trying to get fast cash. You’re genuine. You listen to your subscribers and their feedback. You do your best to improve and do even better streams than the previous ones. All of your hard work is overlooked by the other fools who watch your streams, but it isn’t overlooked by him. Scara appreciates your attention to detail and the way you’re able to hook him with your breathless voice alone. You’re very skilled at what you do, so it’s only fair you get paid for it.

But buying your services isn’t enough. It’s not a real relationship, but it certainly feels like it when he buys preferential treatment. Private shows, special requests, odd favors—you do it all because he pays for it. But this relationship isn’t going to be one-sided forever. You’ll have to pay him back in full eventually. Scara likes to think he has patience and that waiting is fine. It gives him more time to plan his next move—to figure out what he should do to finally have you all to himself. So that those private shows he watches through a screen can finally be real.

Scara finds the journal sitting innocently on Kazuha’s bed, its maroon cover and maple leaves pulling at his curiosity. He might not know everything about Kazuha, but he’d recognize this journal anywhere. His roommate almost always has it on his person. Scara wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with it. To say he’s curious would be absolutely correct. He can only wonder what Kazuha writes in that thing. Perhaps it’s just notes for a class. That’s what anyone would think, right?

Scara opens it and flips through the first few pages. They’re normal for the most part. Just a bunch of haikus and other useless scribbles. When he skips over some pages, he starts to find things that are far more interesting than poetry and doodles of cats. He finds the majority of the journal is comprised of information. More specifically, there are facts and other knowledge about you—the cam model he’s been obsessed with ever since he stumbled upon your onlyfans. He reads through as much of the journal as he can and instantly learns so much: your address, your roommate, your workplace, your friends’ names, names of any potential exes. The list goes on and on.

Scara doesn’t have anything against Kazuha. His first impression of him wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He thought he was a pushover at first. But now that he knows what this journal holds… Well, it sheds an entirely new light on his roommate.

Just days before Scara took a peek inside his journal, Kazuha discovers your secret online life. He snoops through Scara’s laptop when he steps out, having left it open and unlocked. He’s just trying to find what could have caught Scara’s interest, as he’s almost always glued to his laptop on specific days at specific times, with his headphones on and his gaze unyielding. He doesn’t intend to find the file of one of your private videos—something that was meant only for Scara’s eyes.

He clicks on the video out of interest. He’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t this. Kazuha sits there and stares at the sight before him. You’re dressed in skimpy lingerie and you’re muttering the dirtiest things while coating your fingers in lube. And your hands are stroking a thick toy and you’re addressing Scara and you’re lining it up to your hole and— He shuts the laptop before it can get even more explicit than it already is. He’s so conflicted, fraught with a betrayal so strong it weighs his heart down.

Why would he have this sort of video on his laptop? Did you give it to him? Did he make you do this? Are you in danger? Are you still pure?

Kazuha can’t kill on campus. It’s way too risky and he’d be one of the first suspects if Scara’s body is found. Besides, it’s not like he has the full story. He doesn’t know whether or not Scara’s done something that’s worthy of death. You could just be in a tight spot. He knows how easily you give in when you’re under pressure. Maybe you’re just doing this because you feel like it’s the only thing you can do. Not to worry; Kazuha will save you before Scara can ruin your purity with his twisted fantasies.

They confront each other when the time feels right. Kazuha struggles to keep a smile plastered to his face for the sake of politeness, while Scara holds in his raging temper so that he can bear some semblance of cooperation. Neither of them is happy to hear that the other went through their stuff, but they force themselves to make up because a more pressing issue is at hand: their connection to you.

Kazuha says he’s your secret admirer. Scara says he’s in a relationship with you. There’s no way you’d ever date someone like Scara—Kazuha knows this for a fact. Yet he falters at the confidence in Scara’s tone. That can’t be the truth, right? Despite this, Kazuha still strikes up an offer: If they work together to get what they both want, they’ll be unstoppable. With Scara’s riches and his influence and Kazuha’s charisma and clever thinking, they can easily get their hands on you. Of course this means they’ll have to share, but it’s not a big deal when they’re already in so deep. They both know the other’s secret; now they’re swearing to keep it in the pursuit of having you all to themselves. And luckily Scara agrees to the deal, but that doesn’t give Kazuha a reason to lower his guard.

However despite how well they work together when it comes to planning the kidnapping and actually executing it, they both have their own reasons for wanting you. Scara wishes to make his relationship with you a reality—to toss aside the screen that once held him back and finally do all of the things he could only do in his dreams. Kazuha seeks to protect your fragile heart, lest you crumble under Scara’s intense way of doing things and cling to him for salvation. You can’t do those sorts of things with Scara; he won’t allow it. Your purity is meant for him and no one else.

But sharing is caring and some have to learn that the hard way. It definitely brings Kazuha and Scara closer together, even if neither of them will admit it. If they look past their desires, they can be friends. And soon enough they’ll have to accept this new friendship if they want to avoid any unnecessary complications.

However there are times when they’ll cooperate in order to do things with you. They’re a packaged deal you can’t get rid of.

#chit chat #yandere #yandere kazuha #yandere scaramouche #kazuscara roommates #ty for feeding me anon orz #i like the idea of them being friends on the surface #but beneath that they're willing to abandon the other in order to meet their desires #but when they come together they're a force to be reckoned with #aaah i could go on and on with this concept #but i don't want to ramble #ANYWAYS TY AGAIN ANON <3 YOUR BRAIN IS SO LARGE #🧸 anon

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perpetual-stories · 4 years ago

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How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #original writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writersconnection #writersofig #writersofinstagram #writings

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hitodama3 · 4 years ago

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The Consorts Go Feral

Story ideas someone please please please write this I need it.

So there's some kind of competition where all the different regions of the demon realm get together. So of course SQQ and SQA have to go with their demon husbands.

At the competition SQQ and SQA are just chilling when they over hear their husbands stating that they'll win the competition for them. It's a pairing based competition where all the high rank demons do some competitions and scavenger hunts and stuff like that So of course the demon lords and their consorts are going to compete together.

Now they don't mean it in a bad way it's just demon instincts that they want to show off for their consorts and provide for them so that they don't have to actually participate but will still win and get the prizes. Especially considering they didn't want to come to the competition.

Now both SQQ and SQA are millennials and even though they didn't want to come if they hear someone making fun of them and saying they couldn't actually do the thing they didn't want to do they're going to do it out of spite.

Enraged that their demon husbands think they're such delicate flowers that they could not win the competition they declare then and there that they are going to be on a team together and they'll see who wins the competition then.

Combining SQQ's monster knowledge and SQA's world knowledge they make a formidable team. Then the system decides to make it interesting and make it a quest for b points or some kind of reward at the end but once the quest is activated LBH's protagonist Halo is turned off so that he won't automatically win the competition.

So since the north is the one hosting this event and SQA had to set most of it up he knows the entire schedule for the event. So on the first day SQQ is left to win the first competition while SQA sets up for the second day. You don't need both competitors to be there to win the competition and just one of them has to do the work to win.

So the teams or the three teams that the stories mainly going to focus on is SQQ and SQA, LBH and MBJ, and a surprise pairing that showed up to crash the competition TLJ and ZZL!

So first day is a killing competition there is some kind of sensor or something that tracks how many beasts that you kill. SQQ using his knowledge of flora and fauna finds the blood trees that inhabit the area of the competition is being held and since he can use leaf attacks he's able to infuse the slightly sentient trees with his qi communicating to them that they can use him as the lure flower to attract prey and they'll get to consume any of the beasts and the blood that is attracted by him. So not having to do any work SQQ sits down in the middle of these trees like a lotus flower in his bright green robes and flares his qi drawing monsters to the trees that then kill them and the blood starts soaking into the ground so eventually his robe gets stained with blood. So his counter keeps going up for kills because he is technically the one bringing in the kills even if he's not doing it himself. SQA has gone off on his own to bring them a last-minute win if needed and also to prepare for tomorrow's competition.

Team demon lord and team former demon lord are still heavenly demons and so they are the only ones at the top of the scoreboard that are battling super hard. SQQ is still keeping up with them but is remaining in third place and it's kind of annoying him but he's also not actively putting in any work trusting that airplane is going to pull through.

The day is almost over and both team demon Lord and team former demon Lord are baiting each other as they're trying to find even a little bit more prey and they come upon SQQ in the middle of the cove of blood trees just looking transcendent in his light green robes as the entire floor of the forest is just covered in blood and you see that his robe goes from its nice translucent green to the bright red of blood and he looks amazing.

LBH and TLJ try and tease him for being in third place when there's only a few seconds left to the competition about to end when suddenly team consort score skyrockets and airplane pokes his head out from behind a tree shaking his hands complaining about an ant hill or whatever the proud immortal demon way version of an ant hill is that had gotten flooded and eventually drowned them due to the blood building up in the cove of blood trees which is what airplane was betting on. Though the ants aren't impressive to kill they still count as lives taken and So team concerts score considers that as lives taken and puts them in first place.

Team demon Lord are of course very impressed and infatuated with their consorts but SQQ and SQA are still peeved about the earlier comments and snub them for the night and have a sleepover but of course demons being demons think that the concerts are sleeping together because of the fact that they're snubbing their husbands.

The other demons are also impressed by them winning and thinks since they are mad at their husbands they might get a shot with the consorts and that just makes team demon Lord very mad. Of course team former demon lord specifically TLJ is going to rattle the beehive because he enjoys chaos and likes to tease his son so will be flirting with SQQ and inciting ZZL to flirt too.

SQQ Will ignore it or be oblivious as usual. SQQ is under the impression that since demons are might makes right if he wants to make a impression he needs to be very aggressive instead of his very calm demeanor as a peak lord. SQA who is a gremlin and enjoys causing chaos and is still mad at his husband is not going to tell SQQ any different. So SQQ on the second day is channeling all of his anti. fan hatred and his S tendencies to verbally and physically destroy the other demons when needed. Demons who are might makes right society meaning they're attractive to people who are powerful meaning that they're all slightly M's under all that bluster are very attracted to this. SQA who sees his son LBH wanting to tear all of them apart for looking at his consort and feels vindictively pleased for all of the anxiety his son has caused him.

Now because SQQ acted as the lure flower and brought them such great amounts of food that the blood trees will probably not have to eat for another year means that the trees have taken a very great liking to him. So to improve his image of terrifying the blood trees have started interacting with him just as he walks around or doing things for him like picking up his fan if he drops it or if he needs something the roots will spring from the ground and bring it to him and finally to make him more demonic to go with his aggressive approach he's taken to the vines weave a crown of branches around his head making him look like he has his own set of horns.

The demons are very curious if SQQ is a demon that has been parading as a cultivator. Now the second day of the competition is a battle campaign where the top three teams from the day prior will be put in charge of the other teams based on a lottery and will wage war. The top teams being the generals in the war. SQA knew this and prepared in advance for it setting up a bunch of booby traps and acquiring a certain animal for SQQ to tame with cucumber bros ability to cause anything demonic or non-demonic to fall for his charms. SQA Will lead the army in the front to utterly decimate team demon lord and team former demon Lord while SQQ is to stay back and look intimidating.

Essentially make all of the focus be on cucumber bro while airplane bro is able to work behind the scenes and take down the armies while they're too focused on cucumber bro. To assist with this since cucumber bros outfit is soaked in blood from the day prior airplane prepares a more demonic outfit meaning there's very little cloth involved in black and dark green to give cucumber bro a bit more demonic aesthetic. He gives a BS reason to assist with cucumber bros misinterpretation of demonic culture that cucumber bro will be valuing the culture by dressing like this. SQQ is aware there's a trap involved but not where the trap is so just goes along with it because he is still mad at LBH.

So cucumber bro comes out in this dark black and dark green outfit with his striking face especially making him look very disdainful & beautiful due to the color change and the demons are taken with him. Especially because the blood trees have weaved the branch horn crown into his hair this morning instead of him putting in his normal hair piece and so he looks very demonic.

Airplane puts into action his second part of the plan and gives cucumber the hellhound babies that he had acquired the day prior. Cucumbers immediately smitten with them of course and fawns on them all day completely ignoring his husband and his increasingly desperate attempts to get cucumbers attention.

Now it's time for them to wage war and cucumber sets up shop in his blood forest now and looks like he's the one leading the army but really airplane is working his magic in the background and suddenly destroying everyone while they're paying too much attention to cucumber.

ZZL tries to capture SQQ on orders TLJ but he's trying to be respectful and not touch him too much and apologizing for having to be rough. SQQ has a soft spot for ZZL and the care and loyalty he's shown and does not want to harm him either. Now airplane was expecting this so had made sure that cucumber had a container of that rice wine whatever alcohol was used in the book to intoxicate ZZL after hearing about SQQ's misadventures in his plant body.

Because of this ZZL is intoxicated and immobilized by the blood trees think very much the tentacle hent*i after all this is airplanes world. He is struggling a lot and even though they were enemies SQQ does really like ZZL And doesn't want him hurt So what does Mr I need to hide LBH who has snuck onto the premises from his father of course I'll throw a bed sheet over him and sit on him do? But sits on ZZL's back while he's struggling using him like a chair or bench. Then completely oblivious to the sexual overtones and quite sadistic overtones of what he's doing he says something like ZZL makes a very comfortable chair and that he shouldn't struggle so much placing the container of wine or alcohol right in front of his face so that he stays intoxicated and the trees tighten so he can't move from his position.

LBH is chugging vinegar at this point. Eventually LBH and TLJ Make it to where SQQ is enthroned in his circle of trees but because the protagonist Halo is taken off SQQ is able to fight them to a standstill until the blood trees are able to immobilize them because the second benefit of these trees is that they are one of the few flora that can take out heavenly demons and are unaffected by heavenly demon blood outside of drinking it makes them stronger.

After immobilizing TLJ SQQ Will come up to him and lightly stroke the fan across his body up to his chin saying that he won't go any further or something similar because TLJ is quite breakable while cucumber is referencing the plant body thing where TLJ would fall apart everyone nearby thinks something entirely different and in the much more S category.

SQQ Then turns to his husband and lightly taps his fan against his chin mockingly asking what he thinks he might be able to do now that he has completely taken over both generals of one team in the war game and has one general from the other team. LBH is slightly confident that they'll come to a tie because MBJ will obviously be able to take out airplane but just as he says that airplane comes trotting into the cove of trees with MBJ tied up and immobilized on the back of a cerberus like hellhounds that is apparently the mom of the litter that airplane left with cucumber bro. Seeing that cucumber bro treated them so well and that they liked the two cultivators the mom decided to help out just as airplane planned. The hellhounds are fire based demons and were able to absolutely destroy the ice-based demons MBJ included.

So at this point team consort has won two out of the three events so they're obviously the winner and at this point the third day is just all of the demons trying to prove they would be good partners for the two consorts since obviously there husbands aren't satisfying them if they are participating in the event together.

The third day is a scavenger hunt for rare items and I haven't thought of what would happen during that day past that is a scavenger hunt so you can have free license with that day on what happens. Whether they sweep the competition and then have their wicked way with their husbands or if they decide to sleep with someone else.

This post had no structure and was very voice to text so I apologize for probably the large amount of grammar mistakes I just needed to get this idea out.

#sqq #sqa #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shang qinghua #luo bingmei #luo binghe #mobei jun #tianlang jun #zhuzhi-liang #svsss #scum villian self saving system #as you can tell im LBH and am a shizun main since i focused on him so much #sqa mains add on how sqa would look badass and beautiful too

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whump-town · 4 years ago

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Will You Take Me Home?

Here is some heart-warming fluff to make up for what I did with the cancer fic. I would do it again so I’m not sorry but I do feel remorse for hurting you

Word Count: 5055

Retired Hotch’s Birthday

The normal temperature of the room outside his nest of throw-blankets and heating pad causes goosebumps to break out over his exposed arm. He groans, not even bothering to check the caller ID as he puts his phone to his ear and answers “Aaron Hotchner”. His voice has taken on the gravel of disuse, fogged by the painkiller-induced nap he’d accidentally fallen into. If he was following his doctor’s orders, that wouldn’t happen. His body would have acclimated to the drugs and the pain wouldn’t leave him so exhausted that he can hardly keep his eyes open when it dulls to throbs. Which, he’s not aware of just yet, but is the very nature of this call: his detrimental habits.

“Sleeping beauty,” the other person greets and he leans back against the pillows behind him, rolling his eyes. The phone rustles and Hotch shakes his head as he hears the faint scratching and rustling of keys at his door. “I knocked four times,” he’s informed. “I was starting to think--” the door comes free and Hotch doesn’t even look up. “I thought I was going to find you dead in here.” The call ends and from the other side of the couch, he hears, “which, by the way, would be a hell of a thing, you know? Dead on your own birthday.” He closes his eyes but feels the cushions get pushed down, the telltale sign she’s leaning over the back of the cushion overtop him. “Speaking of which,” she beams. “Happy Birthday, old man.”

He looks up at her, taking in the full effect of mischief he could only hear before. The expressive lines of her smile spread across her face and it’s a distinct moment when all he can think about is how truly awful things had been between them at the beginning. How mean he was, really, because it wasn’t her. It was his own inability to trust. Yet, here she is before noon on his sixtieth birthday leaning over his couch and no doubt about to start a pot of coffee that she’ll consume over three-fourths of. Suppressing the smile tugging at his own lips, he raises a more important matter at hand. Far more pressing than why it is that she’s letting herself into his home. “How long until they come?”

Retired doesn’t mean born yesterday (whatever the opposite of that is, really). He’s not around the office anymore but given Garcia’s questioning last month of his favorite cake flavor, Dave’s inquiry into his schedule for this week, and Emily’s early arrival he knows exactly what they’re doing. To her credit, Emily pretends she doesn’t and she might be more convincing if he didn’t know every tell she’s had for the last two decades.

“Who?” she asks. “How long until who comes?” He just looks at her. A stand-off, really, to see who caves first. They’re assholes so this could go on forever and if she were looking for the thrill of watching him break and she would press on. She cracks but not because he’s better at this game, just because she’s excited. “You have an hour. I’ve been sent to get you ready so you’re not a crabby old bastard when they arrive.”

He groans, sinking back into the couch and pulling his blanket up over his head. Effectively locking her out. Well... not really. She just leans further over him, not caring when he grunts tries to burrow farther away. “Come on,” she shakes his shoulders. “Aren’t you the least bit excited? Penny made you those cookies you like and Derek is bringing Hank, who, I might add, is very excited to see Hops.” And she’s only buttering him up because-- “I’m not supposed to tell you this because it’s a huge surprise but Dave left this morning to go pick up Jack. He’ll--” she can’t even get it out. He peaks out, just the top of his head so he can narrow his eyes at her. To see if she’s just fucking with him, using his feelings against him but he sees only sincerity. She grins, she knows she’s won. “So up and at ‘em old-timer! You’ve got a gaggle of people to entertain!”

Old-timer? He’s four years older than she is. That’s not what he comments on. “Gaggle?” he repeats back to her, grunting as his knees protest his standing. “Really showing your age there,” he mumbles and steps out of the way of the pillow she throws at his head. “What?” he defends. “You said it, not me.” He shakes his head, heading back to his room and leaving her to entertain herself. Which she will and he can hear her rustling around the coffee machine. Nearly surprised that she doesn’t complain he still hasn’t set up the Keurig she got him for Christmas (which they are rapidly approaching him having owned now for a year).

Though he isn’t sure how to express it anymore, he’s excited to have them here. Even if he knows that it will get overwhelming, he can’t deny that the night will end far too soon and he’ll find himself missing them all over again. But that’s not what’s important. In an hour (less than that knowing Penelope and her strict party-throwing agendas) he’ll have them all right here. Reid with his never-ending knowledge, quizzing him on the book recommendations that Hotch has been slowly working his way through. With Derek and Savannah and Hank, the latter of which can’t pronounce Hotch and it makes his heart do a funny little thing when the toddler sees him and screams in pure delight “Hops!”

JJ will pour in with Henry and it’ll be like old times watching Henry and Jack slunk off together (and they all pretend like they don’t know they’re smoking pot in the backyard). Emily and Dave force him to mediate the same four fights that they always have and then they’ll stick around long after the others have gone home to talk about whatever comes to their minds.

And Penelope.

His house is about to be flooded with baked goods and meals in containers because despite being alive as long as he has, she denies the notion he can feed himself. She’ll organize them in specific ways and each will be labeled in her neat handwriting so he can tell what’s in each. Most of them will be vegetarian because she’s worried about his cholesterol (and the environment) and a few will be spicy and chicken will make its way into a few of the dishes. He’ll thank her and kiss her cheek and she’ll remind him like she always does, that all he has to do is ask. He won’t but he does appreciate how much she cares. As smothering as it can be.

He showers quickly, giddy in a strange way to get out and be properly ready when the others arrive. Not too quickly, the last thing he needs is to bust his ass while Emily is here. She is far too comfortable with herself and with him and he knows that she will come in here if she hears him. The other thing about that woman is that she might have a distaste for constantly being touched but she can put that aside to annoy him. Which has created this weird mind-game thing he knows he’s losing when he doesn’t even notice her encroaching on his personal space.

Everything is a battle with her.

He decides to save himself the trouble of being bullied and searches through his dresser for a pair of jeans. He owns maybe two pairs of jeans both purchased forever ago and just to help him fit in with the parents at Jack’s school during field trips and soccer games. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he was a kid and he knows he still does but he won’t be the reason Jack gets weird looks. Emily had raised an eyebrow at that (why he had even divulged this to her is beyond him) so evidently it didn’t really do the trick but Dave assures him he looks fine and Garcia thinks he looks like a DILF so… he’s fairly certain that’s good. He’s not really sure what that means but he’s learned it’s better not to ask her to clarify.

Emily is fixing the couch when he comes out, the apartment filled with the scent of the coffee she’s brewed while he was showering. “You’re going to burn the house down with this thing,” she tells him. She holds up his heated blanket as it offends her. “You need to go to the doctor, there has to be something they can do.”

What surprises him isn’t her apparent anger-- with Emily, it’s a diversion. Her anger is rarely that, it’s to distract, and right now he knows he’s to perceive her anger and not the way she fears for him. The way that she can’t say “I love you” like the others but can, instead, be outraged that his body has been working against him for so many years. She’s not angry at him for needing to be tucked up in that blanket all the time, she’s afraid of a vascular issue that might kill him or that he’ll leave untreated until they’re all being reunited at the closest general hospital. Waiting for a doctor to tell them that he waited too long or that his heart can’t handle another surgery or a million other things.

He takes the blanket from her, clumsily folding it over and tucking the cords into the folds. “I have gone to the doctor,” he assures her. Not for that specifically but he did bring it up. He leaves it at that for now and she understands that means maybe later. It’s not worth getting into and he doesn’t feel like thinking about George Foyet and his knife today.

“Hey,” Emily hums, smirking at him. “Your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

He stops dead in his tracks, frowning as he looks back at her but just as he’s about to inquire what, no doubt, awful thing she’s done to make her feel the need to compliment him to compensate for it, the apartment door opens. They both turn to the noise and Garcia steps in and freezes when she notices the two of them standing there.

Looking at the bags full of things she has in her arms and then to Emily and then to Hotch she sheepishly smiles. “Happy Birthday?”

With a sigh, having accepted this defeat a while ago, Hotch steps to help her with bags. He tries to hide his amusement but he cuts Emily a glance, three bags in his left hand and more still coming, and he can’t help it. Garcia turns back just as the smile eats its way up his face and he shakes his head. For a split second, he can see her apprehension, the way that her fear of going overboard or embarrassing herself washes over her before she carefully masks it (and to think he gets all the shit about masking). “Thank you,” he whispers so sincerely that he has to avert his eyes. Adding softly, “you know, you’re the only person who ever cares to make me celebrate it?”

Which just makes her sad. “Sir,” she whispers frowning. “You deserve the world, do you know that?”

He blushes, shaking his head, but he can’t get the words out in his shock.

“Oh,” she tsks. She stands on her toes and pulls him down so she can wrap her arms around him. “I love you.”

Emily makes a sound of disgust behind them and he’s glad for the distraction before all this undue attention gives him a heart attack. “Bleh,” Emily rolls her eyes. But she brightens when she sees the red Tupperware container holding the cookies. “Are those the--”

Garcia sees Emily zero in on them and hands them right to Hotch, holding them to his chest. “Are not for you,” she says to Emily with a nod of her head.

So Emily just looks to Hotch and he passes them to her with a shrug and weakly defends, “they’ll go stale if she doesn’t eat half of them.” They’re his birthday cookies but she’ll get her hands on them anyway. If not today then the next time she lets herself in. If not her then Reid when he gets bored and wanders over here for entertainment. If not Reid then Dave then Derek… you get the point. He’ll never finish them on his own.

Garcia lets it go because she knows that’s how he is and because she has a crapload of other things to make sure he eats. He leaves her to mess with his fridge, it’s better to let her do her thing. She’ll move his almond milk to the side door because that’s its proper place (even though he’ll move it right back) and come in about five to ten minutes to fuss with him about a specific something she notices he’s lacking. Today it will be the complete lack of breakfast foods in this house when she knows for a fact that his doctors are giving him hell about eating more than once a day.

He’ll have no excuse, never does, but she won’t give him a chance to provide it either way.

Reid arrives next and actually knocks and waits for someone to let him in, something none of the others will do. He sheepishly offers Hotch the books he’s artfully wrapped in a newspaper and Hotch ignores it for a moment to hug him. If they don’t do it now Reid will just wait in anxious anticipation for it because he knows it’s what people do and he likes being hugged by Hotch but he doesn’t know how to initiate it himself.

“The Sultan of Brunei spent $27.2 million on his 50th birthday,” Reid tells him as soon as Hotch lets him go. “Michael Jackson was there,” he says with a nod. And Hotch smiles and listens to him anxiously work his way around the point that he’s trying to make. Which is that by the standards of the Sultan of Brunei, this party will be exceptionally small and quiet… the way Hotch would want it to be.

They are still standing at the door, talking about what the act of giving a card means. The way that the stories get warped and it thrills Reid to slide the pieces of that puzzle together through-out various cultural ideals until you have them. And that America has a very strange, above-average affinity for birthday cards.

Derek nearly hits Reid with the door when he comes in. Too distracted with a squirming Hank on his hip and Savannah behind him fussing with him for not knocking. He brightens the second he places his eyes on the two of them, a face that Hank matches perfectly upon seeing his favorite people.

“Weed!” the toddler greets throwing himself into his godfather’s arms. Reid takes him happily, laughing at how tightly Hank holds onto him. He just loves that Hank never gets tired of him. He could still see Hank every day for a month and Hank would still greet him with the same enthusiasm as the first day.

Derek is kicking his shoes off, offering Savannah his hand so she can do the same when he notices Hank still excitedly talking to Reid. That’s by all means not abnormal but-- “Hey,” Derek mumbles Hank. He nods his head to Hotch who is standing watching Reid and Hank with a bright, wide smile. “Don’t you have something for Hops?”

Reid puts Hank down before the toddler can start to squirm and Hank immediately glues himself to Hotch’s leg. No one knows why it’s just what Hank likes to do but not just, in general, he only does it to Hotch. He stands for a few seconds, both arms wrapped around one of Hotch’s legs, face pressed into the material of his jeans, and Hotch stands still to allow him to do it. Hops is a nickname he has no control over, the same way that Reid doesn’t fight that he’s been “Weed” now since Jack was two and stumbling over his name.

Hotch got off easy. When Henry was younger he just sort of kept his distance from Hotch. Hank… just really loves him.

“Is that a hot wheel?” Hotch asks softly when Hank finally peels himself away enough to offer the bright toy clutched in his hands. Hank beams up at him and stretches to hold it higher, trying to get Hotch to take it. “Oh wow,” Hotch gasps, shaking his head and pretending to just be so impressed by this toy so severely dwarfed in his hand. “Do you know what colors these are?”

Derek holds his hand out for Savannah to take and guides her through the house. Moving them to the kitchen to talk with Garcia and Emily knowing that he won’t be getting his son back this afternoon. Both because Hank won’t want to leave Hotch or Reid’s side and because Hotch and Reid won’t want him to leave. The Hotwheels was entirely Hank, they spent twenty minutes finding the perfect one when all Derek needed from the store was stain. Though they all agreed to no presents because Hotch would already hate them invading his home with cake, they all got him presents.

The others all got him books because that’s what they know he likes and he really does love to receive books. They’re fun entertainment and they all say something about how not only they perceive him but also the sorts of things that they like and he… well, he loves that.

Derek built him a new bookshelf. It’s sitting in the back of the truck and he’s waiting on Will to get here to drag the thing in here. Derek had noticed two weekends ago that one of the shelves Hotch uses in the hall was bowing under the weight of the books on it so he’d made something to replace it. Thin but heavy-duty-- he’d considered all the ins and outs of the current shelf. Things he didn’t like about it until he has a higher shelf that doesn’t stick out so obscenely.

Which doesn’t matter, really, Hotch will love it either way.

Hank keeps “Hops” distracted while the others pull dinner together. Emily is set to ice the cake but she’s awful and she’s sent to sit in the living room with the other three. Hotch is sitting in the recliner, Hank sitting on his knees and telling him about what he did in preschool this week while Reid pokes through the bookshelf Hotch keeps by the door.

JJ knocks as she comes in but still lets herself in. Henry is bummed to see Jack isn’t here yet but he’s quickly distracted and swept right back out the door to help his father and Derek move the bookshelf into the house. They don’t really need Henry’s help but it’s an effective way to ensure Hotch doesn’t try to help. Not because he can’t but because… he’s old and they don’t want to break him.

They’re just buying time, anyway, until Jack and Dave get here.

With them comes the party…

Hotch only puts Hank down to hug Jack, biting down his tears when he realizes that his son now stands just as tall as he is. Probably bound to be taller. He’s grown out his blonde hair in college and just as Hotch is opening his mouth to ask about school, how seeking out that Master’s Degree is treating him, he spots--

“A puppy!” Hank shouts.

Jack smiles timidly, stepping back to show his father the dog still held back by Dave’s hold on her collar. “Her name is Scout!” Jack kneels down, beaming up at his father while the thrilled puppy licks his face. “Do you get it?”

Oh, he gets it alright. Emily had snitched him out two weeks ago (to his own son, of all people) and admitted she was a little worried. He still doesn’t think there was ground for her fears. It’s not abnormal for him to shut himself out and if his therapist doesn’t think he’s any crazier than normal then that should mean he’s fine. At least, that’s how Hotch feels about it. That’s ignoring the way that everyone else feels. Which is that he’s visibly more on the edge and jumpy. That he gets irritated in public spaces and his anxiety is getting worse despite starting therapy and medicine he swears is helping.

Jack had done his best to get through to his father but sometimes Hotch makes those conversations like talking to a brick wall. That conversation had ended rather badly, honestly. Jack had yelled, shouting mindlessly that he’s twenty-five and he’s too young to have to be taking care of Hotch like this. Too young to have to fear that each day he’ll receive that phone call and the crazy thing is that Jack wouldn’t even be surprised-- everything about Hotch’s life is damning proof to the fact that he acts impulsively, reckless, and without care to his own well-being.

Jack had called later and he’d apologized, they both had. It had been careless on Jack’s behalf, Jessica had explained to him at sixteen some delicate things about his father. He’d come to understand just what it means for everyone around Hotch to love him. The way that his mother had tried to stifle that urge in his father and Jessica and Dave and Emily and Derek and everyone who has ever loved a man like Aaron Hotchner has tried to walk him back off that ledge. But it’s as if he was born there and you can move him but you can’t take that fundamental calling away. Can’t wash his darkness away.

Jack had spent his entire childhood likening the characters around him to his father, just pulling at strings to understand the man. Sometimes he’d earn himself a smile and other times a grunt. He’d bring his father the books or replay scenes in movies all to just see his reactions to know if the man he sees his father as is the same one Hotch sees himself as.

Freshman year of high school they’d read To Kill A Mockingbird and he’d thought his father to be a man like Atticus Finch. In many ways, he is but he keeps coming back to that book. Until during that heavily apologetic phone call, Jack had laughed and realized his father might be a bit like Atticus Finch but he’s a Boo Radley. The recluse that always represents unwavering good.

Hence Scout.

What had driven Boo Radley from his home? Little Scout Finch.

He lets them into the house, not really sure what to say. “You know,” Hotch mumbles, shaking his head. He watches the puppy eagerly work her way around the others. Snaking between legs and nearly knocking Hank over in her excitement but the boy is around enough dogs to only laugh harder. “You could have just got me a… gym membership of something.”

Derek huffs at that and now, he’s sitting in his living room watching his closest friends snickering at his son’s clever book reference. With a sigh, he leans down and offers his hand to the puppy, frowning when her first instinct is to lick him. “Hi, Scout.”

Jack squats down, petting Scout while she continues basking in Hotch’s attention. “You don’t go to the gym, dad.” Jack rubs behind her ears, smiling when Scout doesn’t divert her attention from Hotch. She’s zeroed in on him and he’s fairly content with that. “Besides I got Scout from that program that they run in Richmond.” There’s this dog training thing they do down there that his friend actually works at. Scout failed her training-- as it turns out she’s a bit of a reject. They’d tried to start her out as a service dog but she’d been too smart for that too. Too eager.

Hotch raises an eyebrow at that, not liking the sound of what he thinks is happening. Those dogs are expensive and it’s already enough that she’s a German Shephard. “What do you mean?”

Jack glances at Dave, “well…”

Dave steps up and soothes it out. “I made some calls and Jack’s friend helped us out. Scout is a reject from two academies, a failed service dog and from the police dog academy in Richmond. So she’s too smart for them to just send anywhere.”

Great, Hotch thinks.

“It’s perfect,” Emily snickers. “Hotch loves to take care of things and now he’s essentially got a toddler again.”

“She is potty trained,” Jack offers quickly.

But Emily is right and the idea is brilliant. Hotch does like to take care of things and having Scout will prompt him to start taking walks in the morning again. It might help him implement a strict eating routine, place him in the kitchen to feed her. He won’t go do things for himself but he will take her to the dog park and sit there until she’s tired. Throw balls for her to retrieve and (what had been the killing stone) is that she’s far too smart for her own good. She’s got other training. Senses anxiety and depression and is very protective.

Hotch frowns down at Scout, she’s placed her head on his knee watching him as he takes this in. Hank is leaned up against her side, fingers trailing through her short fur, and she’s entirely unbothered by it. She’s only worried about Hotch and Hotch is worried about her. He’s never had a pet before. Jack had a goldfish he fed occasionally but… there’s no way that counts.

“Thank you,” he says softly, rubbing at his fingers anxiously and frowning when Scout smacks his hand with her nose. He sighs and puts his hand on her head, scratching like he thinks she wants. Too distracted to note what she’s effortlessly just done. Put off by her clinginess, he’s not even thinking about the curling hot ball of nerves in his stomach. His mind does wander but she nudges him again and he sighs and keeps patting her head.

Dinner goes well and Scout and Hank are glued to his sides. Hank to his left feeding him chips and Scout green beans which Hotch sees and chooses to ignore. Her immediate allegiance to him is a little strange, she’s not too bothered with Garcia or Derek no matter how hard he tries to win her over (feeding her green beans just like his son). Scout does like Hank, Henry, Jack, and Reid. She takes to them like it’s nothing. She’ll go from ignoring Derek’s attempts to get her to sit to trot right over to Reid and lay over his feet.

Hotch does enjoy that, it’s funny.

They funnel out slowly after eight. Hank has already fallen asleep in Hotch’s arms and Savannah has to wipe his tears up and shush him back to hazy contentment with the promise he’ll see Hops soon. Derek will probably be over in a day or two to make sure that the shelf is holding up well and to transfer the books and he’ll bring Hank along to distract Hotch to do it.

JJ and Will trickle out not too long after. Henry and Jack conspire together to get Dave to take them for ice cream and he caves-- Jack promises to text him before he falls asleep to tell him where he landed for the night.

Garcia takes Reid home, won’t let him take the subway back at this hour and Hotch doesn’t even have to ask they just know to text him when they get home safe. He promises to eat the food Garcia left and she already has the date in which he should run out marked on her calendar. She’ll give him a week to bring back the Tupperware before coming over here herself and seeing what he has and hasn’t eaten.

Emily sticks around until ten. The two of them picking up meager things and she promises to come by early tomorrow and the two of them will go to PetSmart to figure out what kind of food Scout should be eating.

And before he knows it…

“I guess it’s just me and you then.” Scout tilts her head at him. “You want to… go to bed?”

He’s not really sure how the dog thing works. TV has shown him plenty of times they’re not supposed to sleep in your bed so he makes her a blanket bed of her own and marks down a dog bed on his list of things to get tomorrow at the pet store. He tells her goodnight and then blushes at how silly that sounds.

He’s in bed, changed into pajamas, and yawning into his book but he’s committed to reading a chapter every night. He hears her get up but he still jumps when his bedroom door is opened. She doesn’t wait for a command and doesn't listen to his “no” before jumping up into the bed alongside him. He’s trying to grumble, to get up but she lays right across his hips. Turning her head to look up at him and he gives up. “Only tonight,” he says.

Tonight turns into the way she sits between his legs, when they’re listening to the guy at PetSmart help them pick out food. To the way she looks up at him when he tries to estimate how big she’ll be to get her a properly sized bed. Which ultimately turns into him giving up and Emily hiding her smirk at just how whipped he already is.

Tonight turns into every night and if his nightmares stop coming as frequently because she’s laying atop him he doesn’t say anything. If he starts going out more and the team starts picking out pet friendly places to meet him for lunch or to have a coffee break then he also doesn't say anything but Scout is right there.

So… what exactly does it take to draw Aaron Hotchner away from the ghosts? A puppy.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jack hotchner #hank morgan #savannah hayes #jennifer jareau #will lamontagne #henry jareau #david rossi

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 4 years ago

Note

🌼 any of them

Whoops, wrote a fic

Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

An optimist would look at the world of divination with wonder. The universe is a but a magnificent hall of tapestries, beautiful pieces of art woven into anything you could imagine. Tapestries where you are a hero, tapestries where you are royalty, tapestries where your people live with riches, tapestries depicting your eternal victory over your enemies. The universe is endless and bountiful, for in the future, all futures are possible.

This is how Astor usually can depict the good fortune tellers from the worse.

If they’re an optimist, they’re most likely a faker.

The only true divinator that he had met that was even a bit of an optimist was his mother, and even then, he had always had the sinking feeling that she hid a deeper sorrow behind her simple shoes of colorful flames and shining moon and starlight. No, it was quite hard to stick to true, unfiltered optimism in this field, as while it was true that all futures and choices were possible, that freewill ran its course through all who walked the vast possibilities of the universe, the issue came in the fact that you could not travel it to and fro.

There are futures where you live, there are futures where you achieve your wildest dreams, timelines where your childhood is happier, and timelines where you find true love and satisfaction.

But you aren’t in those timelines. The future you have is this one, and it is set in stone.

Walk all the roads you want, say all the words, read all the stories, but when a seer analyzed exactly what world we live in, exactly what end is destined for this string of the universe, there will be no holding back. There is only the unfiltered, raw, typically pessimistic truth of the end. Savor it.

“In truth, Elane, I hate my job. Fear it, even,” Astor set his teacup down, looking out the balcony towards the inky, midnight view. “I fear one day I will find the prediction—the true, ultimate glimpse into the night, that seals in the fact that we’re doomed.”

The Queen only cocked her head with a smile. “Well, I’m flattered that there’s still a ‘we’ in this scenario. Good to know I’ll be joining you in the lockup when my mother find our contraband cucco nuggets—“

“I’m serious, Elane.”

She only laughed quietly, before leaning back in her chair, and gazing out into the pleasant evening. “I know...”

There was a quiet between them, not quite awkward or stiffening, but quiet in the way that you might hold your breath after someone embraces you warmly. Quiet in acceptance, quiet to make room for the sounds of something rare and fickle.

“I swear, I might retire early,” Astor finally said. “Quit while I’m ahead. Head off to Hateno or Mabe and bury my head in the sand.”

“You might want to try Gerudo then, if sand is what you’re searching for. I’m sure Urbosa would be thrilled.”

“Tsk. I am inclined to disagree.”

Elane chuckled again, and she let the quiet embrace her for a moment.

“Eternal doom aside, for a moment, I would posit that there’s hardly anything to fear. You’ve foreseen my daughter’s growth, analyzed the future livelihood of the kingdom, and predicted our victory over Ganon. I’d say it’s hard to bargain with that.”

“Maybe, but I could be wrong.” Astor circled his finger on the lip of his cup. “It happens, people make a prediction, but miss one star, or slip up one word...or perhaps one cow suddenly dies, or one ember quickly fades, and suddenly we’re actually in an entirely different timeline than predicted.”

“Didymos Astor? Wrong about something? Oh my, I never thought I’d see the day...” Elane smiled to herself again as she lifted her cup for another sip.

Astor clicked his tongue. “Well. You should hope I’m not wrong about anything. If someone of my skill makes an incorrect prediction, it would probably be disastrous for everyone.”

Elane winked as she set down her cup. “Well, good thing you’re a prodigy, then.”

“Good thing, indeed.”

Quiet keep their third company once again. Astor still had not sipped from his cup, but Elane was already heading for her fourth refill, no doubt begging for any energy after tucking her daughter to bed. A young toddler with enough energy to power a Guardian army, Elane has always found it quite odd that she used up a lot of her energy to annoy the Royal Seer. It was charming to see him get put off by a Mallory’s boundless curious aura, but mostly relieving in the sense that the Queen could get a moments rest and trust little Zelda would be alright.

Elane looked back inside through the half open door, and smiled at a bundled sleeping figure, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. She then turned back and finally noticed Astor’s continued silence on the next refill.

She sighed. “Although I would be saddened to see you leave,” she began, “If a retirement would make you happy, Astor, I would loathe to do anything to stand in your way.”

He looked up at her, analyzing her body language and expression. She was genuine, of course, as she always was in these sorts of talks. Astor finally let himself exhale in peace, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Unfortunately I don’t think it would do me much good, anyways. Location won’t let me escape my own thoughts and visions.” He took a sip of his tea—a bit citrusy this evening, a hint of apple—and relaxed. “I’d imagine His Majesty would miss me dearly, and I simply wouldn’t want to leave him in distress.”

“Ha! Oh yes of course, Rhoam would be crying tears if you left us...” she replied, sarcastically. “Tears of deep, deep sorrow.”

Astor looked out into the night in silence again, not touching his cup.

“But I’ll tell you what Astor,” Elane began again. “If you ever receive that world dooming prediction, whatever may happen that may instigate your view of the deepest hells,” she raised her cup. “You come find me, and we’ll have a drink.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A drink? What sort of drink?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you like. Tea, wine, beer, water or juice if it’s your fancy. Whatever will keep your spirits high.”

Astor smirked, solemnly. “I don’t think you understand just how severe and dreadful certain predictions can be. When we say ‘all futures are possible,’ we do mean all possibilities.”

“And I understand, dear seer. I truly do.” She tilted her head as she kept her cup in the air. “But the way I see it, is that with divination or not, doom and hell come into people’s lives one way or the other. But it hasn’t really stopped the majority from loving their lives now, has it?” Her eyes twinkled like starlight. “Dearest Astor, if our destined doom is predicted one day, I command you to at least smile through our tea party.”

Quiet.

He finally sighed, the corners of his lips perking. His protests drowning in her expression.

“I suppose if you’re the one pouring, it’d be difficult to refuse.” He raised his cup and clinked it with hers.

She was dead eight days later.

With her death came the final factor. The final star.

“Your daughter is destined to fail us,” he said again. “The Calamity shall rise and consume us all, and she won’t stop it in time.”

Rhoam slammed his fists on the desk, but the seer did not flinch. “We’ll train her hard, we’ll start now, even! I’ll get those clerics from the temple to teach her the starting prayers!” he yelled.

“It won’t work.” Astor replied, simply. “Perhaps she might attain them down the line, but she most certainly won’t awaken her powers by Ganon’s rise. It’s over.”

“You told me we could do this!” Rhoam pointed a finger, accusingly. “You saw our prosperity, our victory!”

“That was what I initially saw, yes. But unfortunately we live in world where the Queen of Hyrule is dead, and thus the threads of our future weave accordingly.”

“You’re a liar!” Rhoam bellowed again. “You saw her death, saw our end and lied to us since the beginning, haven’t you?!!”

“Don’t you think that if I knew Elane would die, I would say something?! That I would give ample time for her to say goodbye to you and her daughter??” Astor finally raised his voice, met with equal silence. “I failed to correctly analyze our timeline the first time around, and for that I am sorry. But I can not control what pieces of the future fate allows me to see. It’s not an open novel for you to give me a bad book report grade on. It’s a museum of endless tapestries, of which I am task with analyzing one stroke at a time to identify which is woven to a singular man, and the fact that I have given you a complete enough answer now is a gift within itself, so don’t even try to accuse me forgery and lies.”

The two men clenched their jaws, staring angrily at each other.

Astor finally whispered. “Overtime I might gather more specifics, but overall—this is over.”

Rhoam balles his hand into a fist. “We’ll start a new schedule for Zelda first thing in the morning—“

“It won’t work, it’s futile—“

“We’ll make it work—“

“This is set in stone, this is the world you live in—“

“Well what if you’re wrong again?”

“I’m not.”

“But what if you are?”

“I’m. Not. I’ve read the signs again and again and again, in fact I’ve been reaching the same conclusions repeatedly for the last four weeks. It. Is set. In stone.” He tapped his finger on the wood with each syllable to emphasize. “Perhaps the futures of prosperity are accurate for the Rhoams and Mallorys that live in a different time, but unfortunately for us, we live in one where Elane is dead. This is our reality and you’re doing no good denying as such.”

Silence.

Rhoam made his way towards the door. “You’re a liar.” The seer scoffed. “You’re a liar and you don’t know what you’re saying! Borderline treason if I’m being honest! You’re pathetic, and a rotten fake—“

“If it pleases His Majesty to confirm the integrity of his humble subject,” Astor cut in, sarcastically, “It might be good to know that also I’ve predicted you won’t imprison me, or exile me, or execute me, given you’re still ever reliant on my uncontested skills for more personal matters. That, and you wish to try and keep me around to hopefully prove me wrong, in which you can then tell yourself you’d be in the right to truly punish me.” He stared the regent dead in the eyes. “But don’t worry, you won’t.”

Rhoam slammed the door shut as he stomped off.

That night, Astor has another dream. Or perhaps it was a vision, he wasn’t sure, as the details were so surreal and horrific and captivating that it would have surely been a blessing to chalk it up entirely to vivid imagination.

There were screams and the sound of rocks crumbling. Bones were cracking and monsters were squealing and shrieking. And be felt his arms burn, and he felt his soul drain, and he looked down to see his skin peeling into dark flakes, his muscles, sludge. And in the distance, a young woman with golden hair laughed at him, but her eyes were hollow and gold. And she laughed and laughed as his body was slowly broken to pieces, bones torn asunder, skin burned to smoldering malice, senses vivid until the final moment when he woke.

But the good thing about nightmares, was that...that was it. There was no where else to go. There was nothing left to offer. No more pain to fear.

It made sense of course. Of course, of course. He never went to the funeral, he never offered his sympathies. There was no longer anything to mourn, as he allowed himself to view the world in its true, disgusting form. The people were doomed, and the dead, well...perhaps they might have deserved it. Yes, that was the only way this all made sense, of course. He even stopped trying to warn other folk after a few too many dozen harsh rejections to his character. No, now in complete isolation and resignation of his path, there was nothing else that could possibly drag him back to—

“How do I die?” Zelda Mallory Hyrule asked, one day.

At first, he was confused, and he turned in his chair. “What?”

She was seven at the time, and it was truly an odd and concerning thing to be coming from a seven year old girl’s mouth. Or perhaps it wasn’t, given the circumstances.

“How do I die?” she said again. She was laying down on his worn carpet, fiddling with the frilled edge.

Was she truly that bored? Already out of other questions? Hmph, he had always warned her to stay away, as a seer’s office wasn’t really meant for childish entertainment. Yet still she always came and asked to hide away from her father, and, well...anything to spite that man...

“Why do you ask?” he finally replied. Had someone said something to her? A threat? He clenched his jaw. I swear, if that fool tried to force her powers by—

“You’re always going on about how I’m wasting my time with praying and stuff...but father says I still gotta to stop the Calamity or else we could all die.” She didn’t look up from the bits of carpet string she was playing with (and contemplating on popping in her mouth), “So I figured if you tell me how I die we can settle the debate for good!”

Astor just sighed. “Well, of course you d—“

He stopped himself, but not for the reasons a more put together person, might. Not because of the generally frowned upon action of telling a child how she dies, no, that was not exactly beyond him. No, Astor cut off his sentence simply because it had crossed his mind that—

“...I’m not entirely sure...” he whispered.

He suddenly stood. Walking towards the other end of his office, carefully stepping over the child. “E-Excuse me a moment.”

Why had he never considered this? Of course, he had seen the signs clearly enough, the visions, the stars. A girl cries over a corpse, a light vanishes in the night. Malice plagued the sky and dooms the day. But did the Calamity actually kill her? Does she drown in rubble and malice like the others? Slain by a demon or monster perhaps? Or if not, then, would that mean...?

The princess soon forgot about the question by the next day, and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next.

Astor spent nearly eight sleepless nights into finding an answer.

But he never truly did.

These things happened more times than one may think, when it came to predictions. Vagueness was commonplace, but specificities and straightforward answers were about as rare as a green sunset. Of course, he knew she would die, goddess blood or not, she lived the life of a mortal. But how? When? While it certainly wasn’t impossible to predict a person’s death, but whatever the circumstances of Mallory’s was made the process was infuriatingly impossible.

It was possible she would die of malice or suffocation under rubble, even circumstances where she dies at the Ganon’s hand himself. But then there were clear visions of her living, walking through a grassy field, ruins in the distance covered in leaves and moss, her turning and calling to a friend to keep up with her pace.

But no, nonono. She would die during the Calamity’s rise, that was the majority of what the futures offered to her were. That was the probable outcome.

But the factors and visions and signs and alignments were so fine and minuscule in difference, that Astor truly couldn’t a true statement, a true prediction, a true answer to the question. What timeline did we live in?

It taunted him.

Maybe it was better if the question was put to rest, did it even matter?

“Mallory?” he asked. “That’s a stupid name.”

“What?! No it’s not!” Elane laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Please, YOU’RE not one to talk.”

“Well as a victim of stupid first names, I think I’m qualified to speak accurately on the subject.”

“Aha! But it’s not technically a first name.” Elane tapped his head. “It’s a middle name, her first name would be ‘Zelda,’ of course.”

“Yes, and that is also a s—“

The queen shoved his shoulder into the wall before he even finished the sentence. “Oh would you shut up...”

He laughed, unconventionally carefree. Her Majesty’s happiness these days truly was contagious. Or perhaps that was a side effect of pregnancy? Did all expecting mother’s give off this aura?

“I think it’s a wonderful name.” Elane said. “Reminds me of a cute little duck, like a mallard!” She tucked her arms and flapped her elbows to imitate as such. “Quack, quack!”

“This is further adding to my argument actually”

“Hmph! Ok then Mr. Overseer of all names” She tapped a finger to his chest. “If it’s such a stupid name, then when she starts getting bullied for it around the castle, I shall expect you to take care of her in full.”

He scoffed. “Oh, I’ll be sure to do so. She’ll definitely need it.”

Elane pecked his head with a kiss.

“Good! I grant you my blessing lovingly tease her, as well. And I expect the best from you, Astor!”

His face suddenly warmed for some reason, and he couldn’t form words.

“What?”

“.....W...”

He was suddenly whack in the head with a rolled up piece of paper. Astor sprang awake from his desk. “...W...What...?”

“Morning, Mr. Astor!!” Princess Zelda-Mallory beamed. “And happy birthday!!! Sorry I woke you up early, but I needed to give this to you before the winter solstice festival later and—“

She continued to ramble on and on, but Astor simply opened the rolled up paper she had handed to him. It was simply filled with dozens and dozens, arguably hundreds, of hand drawn stars. In the corner was written, “You always look at the same stars so here’s some new ones!” in crude purple crayon. At the time, he failed to notice the accompanying note on the back that read “One for each year of how old you are!” Thankfully he was too busy looking through the different stars, with varying degrees of sparkles and smiley faces.

He finally looked back at the princess, who was still rambling on and on about her day, and her father’s day, and her newest stuffy dress, and her latest adventures with her stuffed toys, and—

“Why are you always here, Zelda?” Astor finally said. She stopped talking, looking at him, quizzically. “I mean...” he grumbled, “You know I don’t really like you, right?

“Eh, I don’t care. I think you’re neat!!” She held out her arms as she zoomed around his circular office. “Your room is so cool! And you got fun books!”

“Necromancy isn’t necessarily what I would consider ‘fun’ reading material—“

“Plus your outfits are cool, and you’re super smart, like my mom.”

He blinked.

“Plus, you’re the only one that’s not mean to me about my dumb powers. But really that’s just a chair on the top!”

“Do you mean cherry on top?”

“No! I meant chair! Watch me!! I’m gonna do a backflip off of this—“

“NO.” Astor immediately stood up, and snatched the girl off of the wooden chair. “NO. No backflips.” He set her down on the rug and pointed to a side of the room which held a broken table, stool, and a few old chairs—the victims of the princess’ previous acrobatic attempts.

She crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. “You’re no fun!”

“I’m running out of furniture, is what I am.”

“But I’ll let this slide since it’s your birthday! Hmph.”

She started pulling at the loose threads of the carpet. “Don’t know why you had to stop my birthday backflip! Who cares if I get a little scratch?”

“I do—“

“YOU DO?!” Mallory was immediately up and clinging to his robes.

Astor sputtered, instinctively waving his arms to free himself from the child’s grip. But then he finally processed her question, and...

“I...” He looked at her starlight eyes. She had that stupid, naive grin that he always remembered from her mother. A stupid, pathetic, horrible, terrible, optimistic smile.

He finally scoffed. “I just can’t have you getting hurt on my watch, as otherwise, I’d probably be a dead man. That’s all.”

The princess lifted her hands in a “hooray!” fashion, and yelled the exclamation, accordingly. She then resumed her zipping and zooming around the room, much to Astor’s unexpected relief.

That night, he visited the question again.

Why? He didn’t really know.

The question wouldn’t offer him anything, it wouldn’t relieve him of anything—in fact it really did just the opposite. If he found that died miserably, it would be another scream in the nightmare, another nail in the comforting coffin of despair. But if he someone found that she lived, that there was a day after the Calamity, where even a child such as her could possibly prosper...

Having hope and seeing it fail anyway would probably be the most torturous of all.

Again, he had a dream, of a world tainted by blood and malice. But this time he was floating. He was floating and watching the end of it all.

Castle Town was nothing but ruins and ash, and no colors existed but red, black, and grey.

He couldn’t hear anything but a shrill hum in his ears, but he knew there was screaming. He looked to his hand, expecting to see malice or blackened skin, but instead found a strange floating device in his palm. It spin slowly, pink constellations drifting across its surface.

The hum in his ears turned into a groan, and then a whisper. It said something familiar, but he was sure he had never heard it before.

It is time.

The next night he had a dream of a girl standing in a green field, calling out to her friends somewhere behind her. She rested under the ruins of a collapsed pillar, and ate a homemade sandwich with a memorable smile.

Astor reached a conclusion.

In most futures, the girl dies horribly. He wrote in his journal. To be expected, I would assume the rise of the Calamity isn’t exactly easy to survive from.

But what I have discovered is a very specific set of circumstances that lead to a more favorable outcome, at least for her.

I have no way of knowing if it accurately depicts the comings of our time, or another. There are too many variables and specifics. Too long I have spent trying to discern our fate, but the probabilities and possibilities for doom are so interchangeable that it really go either way. The only truth I know is that she lives if—

He paused, tapping the dry quill to the desk again in thought. He dipped it once more.

I’ve decided that if I ever find myself in the scenario where I can solidify her a more favorable destiny, I will take it. I can only hope dare to alter my existing nightmare into something different, there’s really nothing left to lose, is there?

Astor leaned in his chair for a moment, savoring the silence of his office. He looked out the window and took in the night. The stars were gorgeous this evening.

Although if it fails I hope it kills me.

Call it arrogance, but I don’t think I can handle being wrong again.

The seer sighed, then suddenly flipped to the next blank page, angrily.

If I had never met her it would have been fine. If I had just minded my own damn business and continued to work in being resigned to our fate, at least then I could have—

There was a soft knock at his door.

He knew who it was.

Astor pinched the bridge of his nose as he opened it. “It’s past 2am, Princess, what could you possibly have to tell me?”

She looked down and shuffled her feet. “I had a nightmare...”

“Yes, people do have those sometimes.” He immediately closed the door.

Another knock.

After a moment, Astor opened it again. “Don’t you have guards outside your room, how did you sneak up here?”

“Secret tunnel!” She grinned, proudly, as she replied with a sort of sing-song tone.

“That’s nice.”

The door slammed shut again.

She knocked once more. There was the longest pause.

“FFFFFFine!” The world was out of his lips before he even fully swung open the door, and Mallory happily scrambled inside. “But no touching anything, I’m working.”

“It’s ok, I just wanna stay up all night and read your books!” She was already scrambling for the necromancy section, again.

Astor sighed, and went to slump back into his desk. The princess was already sprawled across the floor, distracting herself with another stack of wondrous, ill-recommended book. He didn’t really care.

I don’t really care. He wrote once again. I know there are futures where I dedicate myself to the Calamity, and she dies anyway. I know it doesn’t really matter, I know it’s hopeless to care, and that’s why I don’t.

He looked back at Zelda, he saw her slowly blink back her tiredness. He knew in a few hours or so, he’d have to drop her sleepy figure back off to those useless guards, and berate then for letting her wander off again, as it always was.

If I do this and it’s all for nothing, he began, I fear it will be worse than if I had just stood to the side and perished. It’s already doomed, and this pathetic, foolish optimism might cause me to turn this nightmare into something even worse.

He sighed, and the hours passed as he just sat with his thoughts.

Zelda was using and open book as a pillow.

Astor opened the door, and went to pick her up.

I’m not living through another nightmare. He thought, as he descended the stairs from the observatory. The girl’s breathing was steady as she wrapped an arm by his shoulder.

If it fails I hope it kills me before I see it. He repeated again.

I can’t handle being wrong again.

#Didymos Astor #out of character #oc ask game #I’m actually really proud of this I might shove it into canon story one day

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thewritewolf · 4 years ago

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After the End Chapter 11: Take A Break

Chat Noir pays a visit to someone near and dear to him.

First | Previous | Next | Last

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Chat Noir - or, more accurately at the moment, Astro Chat - flew between the low Jura Mountains. They weren’t nearly as high as the Swiss Alps, but they did let him know that he’d finally crossed the border into Switzerland. It wouldn’t be much longer before he reached the facility.

Not for the first time, he was grateful for Ladybug’s insistence not only on rediscovering how to make the transformation potions on her own, but making so much of the stuff that even after blasting through their resources in the final battle he still had enough of the space cheese for things like this. It was definitely useful - after all, Adrien could hardly be seen on a Parisian train bound for Switzerland when he was supposed to be somewhere in Italy. Although the English tabloids insisted that he was in their country, forgetting that Adrien had an identical cousin.

As for Chat Noir - well, Astro Chat’s suit blended in perfectly well with the cloudless starry night, especially after some alterations to remove some lime green highlights. There was probably only one, maybe two people in all of Paris who might notice that he was gone tonight.

Instead of reassuring him, however, that fact only caused him to frown.

“Claws in.”

Plagg’s bright green eyes appeared in the dark. “You gonna be okay, big guy?”

“Yeah… she’s been getting better, after all. She even recognizes me! Well, most days at least.” Adrien gave Plagg a smile. “And its good to see her again after thinking she was gone for so long.”

“Like seeing a ghost,” Plagg commented. “You sure you want to do this?”

“I have to, Plagg.” Adrien opened his jacket and his kwami flew into his inner pocket. “She’s my mom. I can’t just pretend she isn’t around somewhere.”

He walked onto the main path that lead into the facility, a long term hospital of sorts. Finding it had been a godsend for Adrien - a place that specializes in people waking up from years-long comas? One specifically dedicated to restoring mental and physical wellbeing? It was almost too good to be true. With all the progress she had made so far, it had been worth every euro sending her here. And really, what else was he going to spend a dirty fortune on anyway?

Eventually he made it through the checkpoints and entered through the front door. One of the nurses at the front smiled warmly at him when she noticed him. He placed his hands on the elevated desk.

“Hello, Adrien.” She began checking something on her computer. “Late night visit again?”

“You know how it is,” Adrien said with a sigh. “If any tabloids caught me here, they’d probably start going after my mother.”

“Which is exactly why we have guards.”

“True, but I’d rather not cause you guys any trouble if I can avoid it. You already do such a good job - I don’t want to make it harder.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” The nurse finished whatever it was she was doing on her desktop. “It looks like you’re in luck. Emilie is in therapy right now. Do you need me to take you to her?”

“No, that’s fine.” He gently tapped the desk. “I know the way by now.”

Adrien followed the twisting corridors mechanically, his thoughts back in Paris, split between recent discoveries and the battle that had changed everything for him. What had his father done that had caused him to be immune to the miracle cure? Was it the same thing that turned him into a giant monster? And who had helped him do it? Because now he was almost certain that he’d gotten help - likely from these “Gentlemen” mentioned in his records. But they didn’t appear often. He was working with little more than the whispers of a dead man.

It would have to be enough. He didn’t have any other choice.

Those depressing thoughts took a backseat when he entered the little therapy room where his mother was seated in front of a woman in a lab coat. The doctor glanced at him and gave him a nod before turning back toward his mother.

“Alright, Emilie, we’ll stop there for now. It looks like you’ve got a visitor.”

“Adrien?” She turned toward him and gave him a radiant smile as she held open her arms. He eagerly hugged her, crouching down so she could reach around his back while she sat in her wheelchair. “It's so good to see you sweetheart.”

“Same to you, mom. How’re you doing?” His eyes darted between her and her doctor.

“Every day she can walk a little further, Adrien.” Doctor Lara had learned early on not to call him Mr Agreste. “She’s making phenomenal progress given how long she was in her coma, but it will still be some time before she can walk without support. Mentally… well, she is improving but prognostications are harder given the non-mundane origin of her affliction.”

“Thank you.” He shook her hand as the doctor stood. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing, I know it can’t be easy.”

“Just doing our jobs.” She smiled and walked out of the room, leaving Adrien alone with his mother.

He took the seat the doctor had just left. “So… how are you doing?”

“My memories are still… fuzzy and there are holes in it. Like a bunch of moths built a nest in my closet and ate away at my gala dresses.” She winced. “Sorry, dear. Poor analogy.”

He forced a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Now, my memory may not be what it used to be, but I believe the last time you were here, you were filling me in on your time in high school...?”

His mother always did have a talent for changing the subject, even before everything that happened. But, if she wanted something to talk about to get her mind off her recovery, then Adrien would happily oblige her.

Besides, it didn’t take her long to get tired again. Barely half an hour had passed and she was looking ready to fall asleep. She’d take naps throughout the day to counter it, but that just lead to her being up at all hours of the day. Eventually she’d need to fix her sleep schedule but for now it wasn’t as pressing an issue. Especially since he could visit her under the cover of night.

Eventually he managed to pull the topic into more dangerous ground - Gabriel and his side practices. Getting any leads had been a large part of the reason he’d made this trip now, second only to checking in on his mother.

“Mom?” Emilie turned from the window she had been staring out while listening intently to him and looked him in the eyes. “Have you ever heard of some people called… the Gentlemen?”

His mother frowned and he braced himself for the moment he was expecting - that she either didn’t know anything or that she had forgotten what she had known. This was a shot in the dark for him, a desperate grab for any possible leads. Who else besides Gabriel’s wife would know the intimate details of his business?

Well, besides Nathalie. But she… wasn’t around any more for questioning.

He was pulled out of those morbid thoughts when his mother responded.

“That definitely sounds familiar.” His eyes widened, which went unnoticed by Emilie as she tapped her chin and looked off into the distance. “I seem to remember something about the Boutonnière Noir?”

“What was that? Some kind of group or…?”

“It was a place, but…” She began to glare, annoyed. “I can’t remember where it was! Or even what it was, to be perfectly honest. But it definitely had something to do with them. Maybe it had something to do with an academic too? Someone in your father’s line of work, I think.”

She put her fingers to her temples, rubbing them gingerly. He put a hand on her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, mom. That’s already way more than I had - I’m sure it’ll help.”

“I’m glad, dear.” She gave her a weak smile. “And as much as I would love to keep talking, this has really taken it out of me.”

“Of course.” He stood up after giving her another hug. “I’ll let the nurses know you’re ready to go back to your room.”

“Thank you, sweetie. Come back soon!”

Adrien looked back at her from the doorway and offered a smile. “I’ll do my best!”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Emilie Agreste #Plagg #ml fanfiction #MarichatMay2021 #my writing #After the End

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self-loving-vampire · 4 years ago

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Ultima VII: The Black Gate (1992)

Ultima 7 was pretty much my introduction to RPGs, and I could not have asked for a better pair of games to ignite a lifelong passion into that genre. There is a real reason why this is still considered one of the best RPGs ever made.

While Ultima 7 is often discussed as a singular entity, it is actually two separate full-length games with one expansion each. For this post I will focus on the first one, Ultima VII: The Black Gate, as well as its expansion: Forge of Virtue.

I recommend playing the game using Exult, which adds some quality of life features (such as a feeding hotkey and a “use all keys” hotkey) as well as the option to use higher quality audio packs, implement bug fixes, and change the font into something easier on the eyes.

Summary

The protagonist of the Ultima series is “the Avatar”, a blank slate isekai protagonist from our world who has previously travelled to the world of Britannia several times and saved it from many threats, also becoming the shining paragon of the virtues meant to guide its people.

In this game, you once again cross the portal to Britannia to save it from a new and mysterious extradimensional threat. As soon as you arrive, you immediately discover two things:

1- A violent ritualistic murder has just taken place.

2- There is suspicious new organization called “The Fellowship” gaining adherents throughout the land.

It is up to you to investigate these developments.

Freedom

In terms of freedom, the Black Gate has plenty overall but there are areas where it is not quite there.

Once you can manage to get the password to get out of the locked-down town of Trinsic you are free to go nearly anywhere in the game right away and have multiple means of transportation to accomplish this, such as moongates or ships.

And there are some very real rewards to exploring like this as well, such as various treasure caches and other interesting findings.

The world is actually very small by modern standards, especially when settlements occupy so much of it, but both the towns and the wilderness areas are dense with content.

Notably, the game also allows you to perform various activities. From stealing to making a honest living by baking bread (which is something you can do thanks to how interactive the environment is) or gathering eggs at a farm.

Where it falls short is in terms of having multiple possible solutions for quests. Generally there is only one correct option for how to complete them.

That said, there is a bad ending you might be able to find in addition to the canonical good ending.

Character Creation/Customization

This is one of the big minuses of the game. While you can select your name and gender (and with Exult also have a wider selection of portraits) that is about it for character creation.

All characters will start with the same stats and there are no character classes. You can develop your stats through training and specialize through your choice of equipment, but by the end of the Forge of Virtue expansion you will have maxed stats and the best weapon in the game (a sword) regardless, and you will definitely need to cast a few spells to progress the main quest as well.

This can make every playthrough feel much like the last, as there isn’t that much of a way to vary how your character develops or what abilities they’ll end up having. You will always be a master of absolutely everything in the end unless you go out of your way to avoid doing the Forge of Virtue expansion.

Story/Setting

While the game is a bit too obvious and heavy-handed about its villains, there are still many interesting storylines in the game that deal with mature subjects that remain relevant today, such as cults, drug abuse, workplace exploitation, and xenophobia.

However, the setting as a whole is greater than any individual storyline taking place within. With the exception of most guards and bandits, every single NPC in the game is an individual with a name, schedule, living space, and defined personality. This was not the norm in 1992 and even today there’s not many games that really implement this well. The world is also very detailed in terms of things like the services available to you, the general interactivity of the game world, and the sheer amount of things that populate every corner of it.

The initial murder is not only a strong hook for investigation but also a shocking scene in its own right. The Guardian also proves to have a significant presence as a villain, using a mental link to remotely taunt you based on the context of what is happening. For example, if your companions die he may offer you some exaggerated, mocking pity.

Immersion

There is something very interesting and comfortable about just watching the various inhabitants of a town just go about their daily lives. They work during the day, eat at certain times (either at home or at one of the many taverns in the land), and sleep at night. They don’t just strangely repeat one single action during the day either, they may do things like open windows when the weather is nice or turn candles and streetlamps on at night.

In terms of immersion, Ultima 7 is my primary example of a game that does an excellent job of it even if there’s some weirdness going on with the setting. Even after having played so many more games throughout my life, only a few are on the same level as either part of Ultima 7 when it comes to immersion.

Gameplay

There are three broad aspects to the gameplay here that I want to discuss.

The first is combat. It is actually simple enough that you can call it almost entirely automatic. You simply enable combat mode by pressing C and your party will automatically go and fight nearby hostile enemies based on whatever combat orders you have selected for them (by default, attacking the closest enemy).

This is certainly better than having an outright bad or annoying combat system as the whole process is simple and painless, but I still wish there was more depth to it. Your stats, and especially your equipment, still play a role but other than things like pausing to use items or cast spells the whole process is very uninvolved.

I kind of wish there was more depth to it, but at least the other two areas of the gameplay are reasonably good.

The next aspect of gameplay is dialogue, which uses dialogue trees for the first time in the series. Previously, it required typing in keywords, which are retained but as dialogue options you can just click on rather than remember and type.

While the keywords are not really written as natural language most of the time (requiring some imagination to determine the specifics of your dialogue), the system is very easy to use regardless. It definitely lacks depth compared to something like Fallout: New Vegas, but so do most games.

The third and most notable thing is the way you interact with the world in general. It is both extremely simple and very immersive at the same time.

Ultima 7 is a game that can be played entirely with the mouse (though keyboard hotkeys make everything much more comfortable). You can right click a space to walk there, you can left click something to identify what it is, and you can use double left click to interact.

For example, double left click over an NPC to talk to them (or attack them, if combat mode is enabled), double left click a door to open it, double left click a loaf of bread to feed it to someone, and so on.

But there is more. By holding your click over an item and dragging it, you can move it. This has various applications beyond just being how you pick things up and add them to your inventory. For example, sometimes objects may be hidden beneath other objects, or objects may need to be placed in a specific location.

There are some downsides to this system. Particularly, the issue that keeping your inventory organized can be time-consuming when it has to be done by manually dragging objects around, and this can also make looting relatively slow.

Despite this, I think this kind of interaction system has a lot of potential. It just has some clunky aspects to be ironed out.

Aesthetics

Ultima 7 was very good-looking for its time, and although modern players will not be very impressed by how it looks or sounds, it still remains easily legible in a way that some other old games are not. That, and the ability to identify anything with just a left click, makes this a very easy game to make out at the very least.

Some of the music of this game is very distinctive too, and will likely stay with you after a full playthrough.

In terms of style, the Black Gate does have a bit of an identity while still having a very familiar medieval fantasy setting with things like trolls, animated skeletons, dragons, and liches. While there are aspects that help the setting distinguish itself a bit, they are relatively subtle.

If I had to describe the feeling of playing this, I’d call it “open and laid back”. While the main quest deals with a looming threat to the entire world, the game does not follow this overly closely at first, letting you deal with it at your own pace and without having your exploration options limited by the story.

In fact, when I was young I often just ignored that and went to live in a creepy ruin in the swamp.

(Don’t expect many pictures in these reviews, but have one of my “childhood home.”)

I’d say that Ultima 7′s second part (Serpent Isle) has a much stronger and also darker and more isolating atmosphere overall and that has a lot of appeal to me in particular, but the Black Gate is definitely more open and less linear, and I also appreciate that.

Accessibility

It pleases me to say that Ultima 7 remains extremely easy to pick up and play. Even setting up Exult is not complicated in the least.

The gameplay is intuitive and simple, the UI is minimal, stats are basic (and not even that important), and the combat is automatic. I expect that this is not only the easiest point of entry into the Ultima series as a whole but also likely even easier to get into than many modern RPGs!

It does have some aspects that may be a bit clunky, like all the inventory-related dragging, but it’s definitely not obscure or complicated even to someone who has not read the manual (though I’d still recommend doing that). I literally played this game as a tiny child who could barely read or understand English and still got really into it.

The one thing I’d like to point out is that the game uses a type of copy protection where at a couple of story points (including an extremely early one to leave the first town) you will be asked some questions that require using the manual and external map to answer. You can just google the answers for these.

Conclusion

As I write more of these reviews there will be many games that are interesting, but deeply flawed. Games that are worth trying out but maybe not finishing, as well as games that had interesting ideas but that I can’t entirely recommend due to serious problems that will easily put people off.

But I do not think the Black Gate is such a game. I can easily recommend it with no qualifiers despite the fact that it is almost 30 years old. This is really a game that all RPG fans should at the very least try for a few hours, and not only for its historical significance. It is genuinely a good game worthy of its praise.

I will review its sequel, Ultima VII Part 2: Serpent Isle, next.

#vampire reviews rpgs #ultima 7 #the black gate

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aknosde · 4 years ago

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Fátima I’ll have you know that I wasn’t actually going to drop all of this but then you told me to and I can’t fucking resist you. This is really long I’m sorry. Percy Jackson tiktok au:

This au is like 99% fluff. The only thing that keeps it from being 100% is that I’m maintaining Percy’s history of child abuse, Annabeth's tenuous relationship with her parents, Leo’s mom’s death, The death of Carter and Sadie’s parents, as well as Hazel’s issues (minus the dying), but these things don’t actually come into play.

As you can deduce above, the characters are Percy, Carter, Sadie, Hazel, Annabeth, and Leo. For the sake of my sanity, they are all sophomores in high school.

Character Histories

Percy and Hazel met when he was five and she was four. Hazel’s mom brought her into Sweet on America while Percy was hanging around Sally. They quickly became inseparable, had playdates most weekends until they could control their own schedules, and at around 8/9 years old they started referring to each other as siblings.

Percy: *standing, having a serious conversation with another child at the park*

Hazel: *climbing him*

Percy: WHy are you doing this? The jungle gym is right over there?

Hazel: *continues to climb him*

Percy: You’re a gremlin *pats her affectionately*

Annabeth and Leo met when they started middle school. Annabeth’s relationship with her father and stepmother has reached a nice area, not perfect, but good, and she doesn’t really talk with her birth mother. Leo’s mom died when he was in fourth grade, he’s fostered by a middle class family, and goes to private school with Annabeth on an academic scholarship.

Leo: –so the problem is that this formula doesn’t work with the diameter of a cylinder but I need...

Annabeth: speak english please

*fifteen minutes later* Annabeth: I think I’ll put vertical supports her, although triangular would be more stable, but according to the building codes...

Leo: I beg of you,,,

Cater and Sadie’s history stays much the same, they were raised separately until Julius died, except he died during a cave in on one of his digs, and Ruby died in a construction accident. (She was walking by when the supports failed) They started living with Amos in eighth grade. Yes, Amos still has a baboon, an alligator, and an indoor basketball court.

Carter: And so that’s why Amos named his baboon Kufu.

Sadie: You are literally the most annoying person alive, can I have your fries?

Carter and Percy met on the subway when they were ten, going to a day camp in the summer while Julius was giving some lectures in the city. They were inseparable for the week, and then didn’t speak to each other for four years.

Hazel’s mom has a few mental illnesses that developed when Hazel was around 10, she’s still present in Hazel’s life, and they live together, but she’s not always all there. Once Gabe is out of the picture Hazel spends a lot of time at the Jacksons’ apartment, enough where she keeps a toothbrush there.

As for Gabe, he remains his normal abusive self. Things come to a climax when Percy is 11/12 after Gabe throws a bottle at him. There’s no reasonable excuse for this, and Sally comes home while Percy’s still crying. Gabe’s dealt with swiftly, but Percy has some scarring on the left side of his face.

Also quick note: in this au Percy is 1/2 black, 1/4 moreno, and 1/4 native american. (Moreno and native from Sally and black from his dad)

Their Accounts

So as in the post that got this all started, Percy’s account is largely Ancient Greek and Roman mythology and history. He also does some stuff for indigenous mythology, but he’s super into the greek and roman stuff. (Insert this meme (it’s the thirteenth one down)) He also does skateboarding and some light gymnastics/parkour/acrobatics.

Hazel is a gymnast. She’s also just super nice and supportive so she makes those motivational videos, but mostly it’s gym stuff and her and Percy hanging out. She’s not quite as popular but she doesn’t really care. She is also the #1 horse girl, and rates horses. Percy would tease her, but he’s also a horse girl.

Sadie does comedy. Some if it’s scripted or little skits, but there’s a lot of her just ranting at her camera. Also her life is just weird (*cough* alligator and baboon *cough*) so people just like to see what she’s doing. Also a theatre kid™, sorry, I don’t make the rules.

Carter gives detailed accounts of every Egyptian myth he thinks is cool (all of them), but he makes more comedic abridged versions too. He’s also known to make videos laying out archeological digs. About a quarter of his videos feature Sadie insulting him in the background.

Leoooooo! He has a lot of comedy, the first video of his to do well was a situational comedy, he always has a sarcastic comment or a bad joke. Most of his stuff now is for robotics. He’s on the robotics team at his and Annabeth’s school, but he does a lot of stuff on the side just making crazy cool contraptions. He has a series of him going scrounging for parts because he doesn’t exactly have the money for a lot of his stuff. Also skateboards occasionally.

Annabeth’s account in verging on booktok. Every time she reads a book she reviews it, and if it’s popular she’ll record herself reading it and put the best clips together. She’s still really into architecture, she talks about it often, shows some of her sketches, and has a series where her followers can pick videos in New York and she’ll go and critique them. Also has some lifestyle videos about staying organized, but only for school stuff because otherwise she’s pretty messy.

Prequel Stuff

Carter and Percy reconnect when they start duetting each other’s mythology busting videos. They have two series together, one on parallels between Greek and Egyptian myths (called Percy and Carter’s Mythological Mashup) and another about hellenistic culture, specifically about Egypt during the Ptolemaic Dynasty. (Working title: Colonizers suck,,, but the Aesthetics)

Them getting closer forms a friend group of Percy, Hazel, Sadie, and Carter, and they hang out most weekends. Their parents are all friends now.

Okay, The Actual Thing

I lied, there’s a prologue: everything starts at the very end of freshman year when Percy posts a video of him, Hazel, Carter, and Sadie at central park. (caption yet to be determined). It ends up on Leo’s fyp and his though process goes something like ‘oh, it’s a bunch of pretty people who aren’t white.’ He follows Percy and forgets about it.

So Leo’s life is going pretty normal, Percy’s videos pop up on his following and for you pages. Nothing really happens until Percy makes a video detailing a type of ancient greek technology (im thinking torsion catapult but its not set in stone). Leo thinks it sounds really cool, so he makes it and duets Percy’s video

From there, their friendship develops. Leo keeps making models and prototypes of ancient tech for some of Percy’s videos, and eventually he starts doing his own research. And in turn, Percy duets Leos videos and talks about the historical significance of certain mechanisms or their origins. By now, they’re mutuals and talk pretty often.

Annabeth also follows Percy after one of his videos appears on her fyp, but much later then Leo. In fact, he’s on her page because she follows Leo. She’s with Leo when this happens, and asks him about Percy and checks his profile before following him. He follows her back the next day.

The first time they interact beyond liking each others videos is when Annabeth takes part in one of those ‘creators are struggling like you’ with her ADHD and dyslexia, which Percy continues from her.

One day Percy and Leo (quite literally) run into each other, and as they’re mutuals and do text, they decide they might as well hang out in person, thus Leo is indicted into Percy’s friend group.

Leo eventually brings Annabeth along too

And the rest of it would be shorter 4+ panel comics and maybe a few mini arcs. I have specific videos outlined for each of them.

#i spaced this out because i can't read big blocks of text so sorry if its annoying #this is literally my comfort au #also all of the characters are queer #i don't have any percabeth plans #its purely friendship fluff #this is basically just a master post #tiktok.pj.au #long post #riordanverse #max.txt

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standarrow · 5 years ago

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abbacchio essay under the cut because he’s so important to me (god this is so long im sorry i have adhd i hope this is readable<3)

tl;dr being on how i think he healed and handled up until part 5 :”) + thoughts on his relationship to the team

tw!!! for all of the usual things that pertain to his backstory including: [death, alcohol abuse, police, ptsd/depression, etc]

i may be projecting<3 its fine

to start:

im not a fan of the way a lot of people handle handle abbas trauma and illness. the "entering a relationship fixes your problems<3" shit. or the romanticization of depression...i see both a lot, along with utilizing his substance issues as like a catalyst. i dont have to say why that shit isnt ok or healthy.

getting into it (because i want it to be this deep):

there is ... a lot of guilt that he shoulders around the death of his partner. someone he was friends with (and relied on him as a literal partner) died because He fucked up. that person wanted to protect him and died selflessly while he'd broken his own morals and he feels like it should have been him to pay for it.

but he wasnt. and now he suddenly has two mistakes and blood on his hands. getting fired doesnt even Begin to fix that, so he withdraws because he cant trust himself, cant trust the institution he was already disillusioned from, and imo hes angry that he didnt get punished worse for his own crimes (but cops always get off easy)

bruno finds him in the worst place of his life and gives him a chance to put schedule in his life, to protect even if its not in the way he originally thought he would. he still doesnt trust himself, i do not think he takes to working with a partner easily (what if he fucks up again. he'll get bruno/narancia/fugo killed.) and i think that reflects in why moody blues isnt meant for combat. combat = danger.

obligatory moody blues being an allegory for his trauma and ptsd surrounding the death of his partner.. constantly haunted by his own mistake and reliving that moment. heavily referencing his wish to redo, to know every detail of that prick he let bribe him that killed his partner, to have Control. because abbacchio isnt really about The Moment -- he's making sure the Moment doesnt have a chance to come to fruition. its nipping it in the bud before the weed can kill. he wants to make sure he can figure out whats going on First and protect. to figure out past events and prevent future danger.

starting to heal:

i’ve done a timeline previously: he graduates high school in 1998, six months for the police academy, 6 months before hes out again.. joins passione in december (rainy season) of 1999, and by december of 2000 (~4 months before part 5) hes like.... well. doing better in terms of his alcoholism. we see abbacchio by part 5 occasionally and seemingly comfortably enjoying a glass or two, which speaks that after some time working hes sort gained some..... confidence in his ability to keep his intake low.

working for bruno means he cant drink as often or binge as much, hes needed and that structure keeps him in check, its not easy and yes he slips but its about and overall upwards climb because any progress is good progress... he builds a rapport with the team, comes to appreciate brunos role in giving him a chance and some peace of mind, sees himself in fugo, treats narancia like a little brother. relationships with others cant Fix your problems but friendship and structure can help, they can be there when you need it.

hes starting to trust himself more. and his relationship to fugo and nara were as crucial as his one with bruno is.

in purple haze feedback we see that he's been teamed up with fugo, and he knows fugos stand ability very well (see mirror man fight)... they Get each other and abbacchio sees a lot of his anger and distrust at himself in fugo, and easily calms fugo down when he gets upset (see mirror man episode in the car)

fugo helped him trust himself and others more .. that other people arent Fragile and arent going to die on him every time they get into danger and its not His fault. he relies on fugo and vice versa. the kid is powerful but also a smart tactician and extremely capable. they Get each other and it helps abbacchio trust himself in combat situations and helps calm his paranoia about getting someone killed while working ... and nara is just sunshine. hes an annoying little brother but it helps him retain normalcy. some sense of like. not everything is doom and gloom

his depression and general self? depreciation perhaps doesnt leave him because those kinds of thoughts mould your brain a certain way.. they dont just go away without some work. but perhaps time with bruno helps him start to realise his worth, the way the team appreciates him and his ability. his self consciousness can start to fall away a little bit. i think by the time december of 2000 (a year after his recruitment by my timeline) hes like... a lot more comfortable with the schedule of his life, it helps him get out of bed, gives his brain a structure to latch onto. the responsibility of overseeing the younger ones and helping bruno gives him the sort of hope for this original goal of wanting to protect

@ bruno (in a more romantic sense perhaps + why i think he distrusts giorno so much)

his relationship to bruno isnt fucking “godlike savior<3″ because thats.... needless to say Very unhealthy.

their relationship doesnt reach a point by where i think Either would even want to enter a relationship until about a year in (~4 months before part 5 begins)... theres a certain uncertainty i think bruno has with wanting to help abbacchio, he respects and cares about the other man and canonically sees him as his senior.. and i think theres a certain wall there that bruno isnt sure he wants to try to knock down, meanwhile abbacchio isnt sure when he built those walls but theyre safe (and what happens if you try to reach out?)

i think they sort of fall into it and its not... planned. its a little impulsive but it feels natural and they help each other because bruno is this comfort to abba, is the reason he has this structure and has made this progress himself and hes not....crediting it all to bruno obviously but bruno did play a Large Role. and bruno is all about little white lies, appearances. Yes hes fine. Dont worry, he has things under control.

and i think to an extent abbacchio knows of brunos softer spots (as does fugo, bc of the reason he and fugo team up as described in phf is to protect him) but abba doesnt realise to the extent that bruno is .... hiding his real fears. brunos a lot about compartmentalization (hi zippers) and being let into brunos internal... thoughts beyond the occasional worries he mightve shared is a big step for them. bruno buries a lot of his internal problems and worries. he has to. hes got to keep moving, keep working; people rely on him... but abbacchio is the person he doesnt feel like he needs to protect because theyre equals and maybe he can let someone in to shoulder his worries and vice versa. theyre partners.

which is why i think abbacchio initially distrusts giorno so much... its not tht he doesnt trust bruno, but bruno doesnt Tell him about this. he realizes he might not know all brunos fears (specifically @ his distate and hate towards the mafia i made the point about in the bruno isnt evil post where its like.. he Couldntve shared that information, otherwise he would endanger abbacchio)

and it scares him. it freaks him the fuck out because he doesnt understand who this kid is or why bruno trusts him so much but he trusts bruno so he goes with it, even if he doesnt Understand.

anyways thts my TEDtalk ty i love you for reading this if you got here<3

#EDIT: ok 2 rb if you want!!!#leone abbacchio #im not tagging it otherwise i just want this findable in my own tagging system LOL #all of this is from discord from dming adrian and simon so hi guys if youre reading the tags #i deal with a lot of the issues abbacchio does but i understand that that doesnt mean i didnt use language that might be incorrect #i understand and apologize !! feel free to send an ask but otherwise pls im not trying to start meta discourse over an anime character #i just wanted to get my thoughts out because im tired of seeing representations of him that i just. feel are SO so ugly #esp as someone whos struggled with the issues #caleb.txt #caleb meta hour

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hazbincalifornia · 5 years ago

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Yeah, yeah, more Stolas/Blitzo analysis. I want as comprehensive an understanding of their relationship as possible as I write the fic so the growth comes out of where they actually are in canon at the moment. This time it’s about the phone call in the pilot because Blitz is in a less freaked out place there than he was in Murder Family and thus it’s a better sort of ‘ground zero’, but there’s also a comparison of the two calls to see what may have changed (or stayed the same) in the transition between pilot and show. It’s capped off with how they might get to somewhere better in the future, since it’s pretty clear that they’re going to be A Thing.

Note that this isn’t in any way ship-bashing, I personally hope that they do get some development on-show and think that they’re a compelling ship.

His expression combined with ‘So, what can I do you for this time, Stolas?’ (on top of Loona’s comment about Stolas being clingy and sounding DTF-y and Blitzo snapping at her) heavily implies that this kind of call happens fairly often. (On insta, both Stolas and Blitzo have mentioned calls like it being regular, to the point of being incorporated into Blitzo’s schedule.) The strained smile and the fact that he was putting it off... even if he may play a bit dumb, he 100% knows the power Stolas’s got over him and probably the potential consequences if he isn’t at least somewhat pleasant.

With the first comment about the political candidate on Earth, I’m guessing (I don’t know if this is still a thing carried over to the main series) sometimes Stolas just sends IMP to do dirty work that he’s supposed to be doing because they have the book and it was part of the initial deal to let them keep it.

‘Okay, well, yeah, that makes sense.‘ He’s semi-bored but again is affirming Stolas. He’s probably used to hearing Stolas mentioning stuff like being lonely.

Realization when Stolas mentions ‘You know what happens when i’m lonely?’

‘Oh, God fucking dammit.‘ Yep, this is definitely going where he hoped it wouldn’t- if he was lucky, today’s call would just be Stolas asking him for a murder-favor or something, but nope, the guy’s going to just be really, really horny at him again. This isn’t an unusual occurrence but he’s got to put up with it.

This was what really sealed it for me as not just irritation- he makes this expression for a full ten seconds. I counted. And with how he feeds the phone-smoothie to Loona, he’s trying to get out his aggression at the situation in any way that he can.

I get that snapping the phone in half and blending it up is a comic exaggeration, but let’s take this whole exchange as flatly as possible:

There’s a person who owes his livelihood to being able to borrow a magic book from someone much richer and more powerful than he is. He has to repeatedly take calls from that powerful person that sometimes asks him to complete jobs that are already in his line of work, in exchange for the book since it’s needed to complete them. That can be considered somewhat of a fair trade. However, sometimes the calls devolve into sudden and extremely graphic sexual talk, something that clearly upsets the person a fair amount. He has to deal with this on a fairly regular basis in order to keep both his business afloat and himself from getting squashed like a bug if the word gets out to the wrong people that this whole affair is illegal and I doubt Hell plays nice with second chances when it comes to something like this.

Blitzo definitely knows he’s between a rock and a hard place here. He knows he’s got some wiggle room- he did end the call in the middle of Stolas ranting after all- but he can’t pull away entirely without risking everything and the sexual harassment is just par for the course when it comes to dealing with Stolas.

The call in Murder Family brought a new layer to this. It’s possible that Blitzo generally tries to be polite to Stolas but he was just really, really stressed- and even then, the worst he says is that this is a really bad time and he’s trying to not get fucked up at the moment. He snaps back ‘what did you call me?’ and that’s fairly accusatory, but consider how he talks to Moxxie vs how he’s talking to Stolas.

Stolas’s little cooed ‘When isn’t it a bad time, Blitzy?’ does some work of its own- it’s got that air of this being a thing that happens regularly enough that Stolas feels comfortable teasing Blitzo on the fact that he’s heard his excuses for not answering a call from him, and uses a nickname to show familiarity right off the bat. He expects Blitzo, to some degree, to drop everything for him. The point is, obviously, to establish this relationship to anyone who didn’t see the pilot, and Blitzo’s annoyance the whole call has the same feeling of ‘this is a regular occurrence and I just have to put up with it’. There’s the leveraging of the book for sex made even more explicit, and Blitzo just kind of agrees, probably only half-listening because he’s heard this all before and he’s got other concerns at the moment. The line delivery cements this.

‘Fine, whatever!’

His expression is definitely still uncomfortable when Stolas slips to the horny talk, even though it’s a little subtler this time, and his breathing is animated in a way that shows he’s still in panic mode.

He still actively grimaces and briefly glances at the phone before telling himself to shake it off and focus on the problem. I note that he doesn’t mute the call despite there being way more reason to here- maybe something shifted between pilot and episode 1 that he’s not supposed to do that?

There’s also the fact that Stolas is apparently willing to go on his horny rant completely undeterred by the fact that Blitzo isn’t responding at all. He isn’t even near the phone after the first minute or so, but he’s still clearly talking when Moxxie heads back to the house later. It can’t have been less than ten to fifteen minutes of radio silence from Blitzo and he’s still going. Blitzo’s participation isn’t necessarily needed here, and I don’t doubt there’s times where Blitzo just leaves the phone on and does other work in his office until Stolas burns himself out.

There’s a lot of subtle ways they used to make it clear that this is noooooot something Blitzo’s really that comfortable with.

Of course he was the one to start it by sleeping with the guy in the first place to get access to the book, which was a colossally stupid move (the hell did he think was going to happen when Stolas found it missing?) but it’s evolved into something beyond his control. He’s not great at conceptualizing consequences, I don’t think, and this is one he’s stuck with.

From how the instagram accounts behave, it seems pretty likely that they’re endgame, and I’m fascinated to keep watching and see how the relationship develops both of them as characters. It seems the biggest barriers here are both communication (Stolas seems to talk at Blitzo more than with him) and the fact that Blitzo doesn’t have much of a choice in having this relationship with Stolas.

If they were given a chance to bond on more even ground... well, Blitzo chases after Millie and Moxxie and their healthy relationship, he clearly wants something like that, but what Stolas is offering right now is leaned way too heavily on sex and seeing him as a singularly sexual object. Stolas clearly loves his daughter and can have a healthy relationship based off of that, it’s just a matter of actually listening to what Blitzo says and not forcing himself on him.

I don’t doubt that at some point, Stolas is going to have to confront that when Blitzo ends up having enough and blowing up at him.

I know, this is a lot of words for a comedy series, but the fact that in both calls, Blitzo is clearly and viscerally uncomfortable makes me pretty certain that they’re going to do something with this. If it was just ‘haha that dude’s horny’ they wouldn’t have played it the way that they did, Blitzo would have just been more annoyed and it would have ended at the ‘god fucking dammit’ in the pilot and Stolas wouldn’t have made Blitzo agree to full-moon meetings. That’s, again, specific, and one episode will probably address it again.

#helluva boss #shadow says stuff #I feel like I should tag analysis posts somehow #hmm #shadow's analysis #eh that works #hb #I mean the fact that I'm currently writing a fic where they have a child says I like it lmao #honestly kinda wish I'd done this BEFORE writing the first couple chapters but ah well #I think they still mostly work

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symphonicspecter · 5 years ago

Text

Subcon Family Headcanons

Have I mentioned that I LOVE the idea of Snatcher basically just adopting a hundred child spirits and all these kids hanging out in the forest and caring for each other as siblings? @birdsareblooming‘‘s post inspired me to get my butt in gear and finally write all the thoughts I have

These are going under a read more because there’s a lot

(Any time I say spirits, I mean both Dwellers and Subconites)

All those little dolls the Subconites possess? Snatcher made those. He’ll drop everything to repair them if they get damaged. He spent days making all of them early on. Some of the Dwellers just didn’t want bodies, and he respected that and let them be. He’s taught some of the Subconites how to sew, so that they can repair themselves or if they want to make modifications or clothes for themselves.

Everybody knows everybody’s names. Some of the spirits use the same names they did in life, others made up new ones. They think it’s very important to always spell and pronounce names correctly.

If an outsider makes anybody uncomfortable everyone else goes into Get His Ass Mode

The Minion/Boss relationship is mostly just for intimidation. Regularly, the spirits refer to Snatcher as “Snatcher” “Dad” , or a nickname they made up, some like how “Boss” sounds too, But when outsiders are around, he becomes ““The Boss” exclusively, and they pretend like he’s intimidating. They like taunting about eternal servitude and permanent soul removal in their idle chat. And Snatcher acts a little bossier with them. It’s all to scare whoever is currently contracted.

Snatcher is very adaptable for the spirits. Some of them are easily discouraged or self-conscious, so he speaks more softly to them and never has them talk to him in work mode. Others love to do tasks, so he gives them chores, even when nothing needs done. He knows which ones are mute, have trouble talking, are sensitive to certain words, like to rant about their interests...

Everybody is valid! When Subcon froze over and everyone became ghosts (some with memories, others without), it essentially became an opportunity to start an entirely new society. They all foster a ““you can do whatever you want as long as you don’t hurt anybody”attitude. Along with choosing new names, some of the spirits wanted new pronouns. Queer? Neurodivergent? It’s all cool with the Subcon gang they will accept and validate you

Subcon Village is where the most houses are. The spirits take up residence in old houses, trees, anything that can be a cozy shelter. They mostly live close to each other, and several live together.

Snatcher has a check-in rule...if somebody has gone unseen for several hours, it’s time to look for them. Even with everyone already dead, there are a lot of dangers in the forest. So anytime somebody plans on hiding away for a while or wandering off by themselves, they tell somebody else. They all keep tabs on each other to stay safe

One of the Subconites made Snatcher a #1 Boss mug

The Subconites get excited to show Snatcher things they’ve made/done and he always turns into Proud Boasting Dad for them

Like a Subconite could show him their drawing of a tree and he’d be like Wow That’s So Good You’re So Talented!!!!!

Some of them want to give him the things they make. He has a special little place higher up in his tree where he keeps all of it. Sometimes he just goes up there and looks through stuff

Some of the more musically inclined spirits get together to practice and play. And they’ll invite Snatcher too

Games! Whether it’s Tag or Uno or Monopoly. The kids are always playing something. Sometimes it’s a big group of dozens, other times it’s a little group of four or five. And of course, they invite Snatcher to play with them too.

They all talk to each other so much, any news, gossips, jokes, what have you gets spread to everybody in a few hours

Movie nights...They get a big cloth and hang it between trees for a screen, and hook up an old projector and some type of player. It could be a movie left laying around from old Subcon,or something Snatcher stole from outside. A big crowd will settle on the ground and in trees and they’ll watch one or two or five movies

Campfires! They make a fire and gather around it and tell stories. Maybe they’re scary, maybe they’re not. It could be a story made up on the spot, something from a book, something they wrote themselves..they pass stories around for hours. None of them eat but they’ll put various things on sticks just for the thrill of catching it on fire

The spirits know not to bring up Vanessa

Most everybody knows how to deal with Snatcher in a bad mood. Whether he’s depressed or angry..after enough time they’ve learned what sets him off, when to give him space, when to give him hugs and kind words

Hugs and cuddles galore oh my god

All the Dwellers and Subconites are like siblings and say ““I love you” all the time

Snatcher has a hard time saying or accepting the L word but that’s okay, there’s a hundred ways to show it

Snatcher will take recommendations on what tasks to put on contracts

Snatcher has a hard time saying no to any of the kids, unless he’s in a bad mood. If he says no or seems annoyed, it’s a clear sign that something is bothering him

Cuddle piles...this mostly happens amongst the Subconites but sometimes a Dweller or two joins in or some of them want to cuddle on Snatcher

Snatcher steals from people in nearby towns...In game he says he steals mail. That’s his main method of theft as it’s the easiest. He redistributes to the Subconites. They love reading gossip in mail. Even a bill can be used for an art project. The best is when he snatches packages...who knows what fun things are inside! That’s how some of them ended up with smartphones

If Snatcher finds out that any of them want something specific, he’ll look for that when he’s out, That’s when he breaks the mail theft routine and might steal from elsewhere or con somebody into giving him whatever the item is

Besides just getting mail that Snatcher stole, the Subconites like to send each other mail. Yeah they can easily go talk to each other, but writing letters and sending packages is fun. They take their mail to Snatcher and he distributes it once a week

Snatcher absolutely will tease the kids...pretending to not understand something they’re telling him, mispronouncing the name of whatever they’re talking about, terrible puns, holding something out of reach, silly voice imitations, standard horrible dad humor

If anybody so much as looks at one of the kids wrong, Snatcher will end them

How the Subconites respond to a contractor heavily influences how Snatcher treats them...if you make friends with them, he’ll consider letting you go, but if they don’t like you...

The spirits are just as protective of Snatcher. If a contractor talks bad about Snatcher or tries to hurt him, they go into defensive mode. They’re ready to make a little plush shield around him, to kick some ass, or to check on him and tell him nice things afterwards. Or, like in game, to be his cheer squad while he does the ass kicking himself

If anybody is having a hard time you can bet the rest of the forest is saying/sending nice things to them instantly

Subcon has its own inside jokes/memes..

Several of them pitch in to decorate or host activities for holidays. Around a holiday, Subcon Village is covered in decorations. They have their own traditions, taking from what they remember from being alive, what outside towns do, and anything they think would be fun to add

They all teach each other..Snatcher taught some of them to sew, he teaches some of them about law, he’s shown a few how to play violin and cello...they teach each other about space, biology, painting, historical figures...it’s very common for them to talk about their interests and to want to learn about someone else’s

Sometimes Snatcher reads out loud for a group of spirits. He picks out books specifically for it, and then lets them pick from the collection

Every so often they plan events..maybe a bunch of them get together to write/make/perform a play, or the musicians hold a concert, or there’s open mic/creative writing readings, or dances! They always run it by Snatcher to get the okay and to get help planning/scheduling/reaching out/spreading word. There’s always a great turnout at these, with most or maybe even all of the spirits attending!

Sometimes Snatcher practices his Intro with a Subconite or two, and they give him some tips on how to be scarier

Yeah, arguments and misunderstandings happen occasionally, but they get resolved quickly

The kids tend to go to Snatcher for advice and with questions. He doesn’t like to bring up his own problems with them as he doesn’t want to bother them.

Snatcher, the Dwellers, the Subconites..they tend to just get a little burst of happiness seeing each other/saying hello

Snatcher just genuinely enjoys the company of the kids, and playing with them, and when they get so excited to talk to him it just makes him so happy, and he’s so protective of them...And just the same they respect him so much, and look up to him, and feel safe with him, and try to look out for him

They’re all there for each other and have a secure relationship 🖤

#ahit #a hat in time #evps #the snatcher #for someone who doesn’t like to read a lot on tumblr I sure do write a lot huh #apparitions

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lets-talk-appella · 5 years ago

Note

If you have time can you do the “You’re not mature enough to be a parent.” - “Try me.” prompt.

This is like… more than a year later. But! I feel that we all need some fluff right now, so here you go, with a small modification.

Bounding

Summary: Domestic Bechloe fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: G for gross amounts of fluff

Ao3 and FFN (posted as a chapter in a series of prompts)

Chloe stares atthe pile of soggy, smelly laundry in the washer in disbelief. She blinks once.Yep. It’s definitely been sitting there. For several hours, judging by thecrumpled state of their clothes.

That’s when theannoyance sets in.

“Beca!” she shouts.

“What?” Becacalls from deeper in the house.

“Did you forgetto move the laundry again?!”

The ringingsilence she gets in return is all the answer she needs

After having beenmarried and living together for two years, it’s safe to say the honeymoon phaseis wearing off.

With a growl,Chloe reaches into the washer and tries to extract the clothes, which cling toeach other and the inside of the machine with stubborn tenacity. A whiff oftheir damp odor wafts into her nose and she cringes; changing her battletactics, she shoves the clothes back into the washer and slams the door closedso hard it makes the machine rattle. Muttering angrily, she wrenches open thelaundry cabinet and, in her haste to find the detergent, knocks over severalbottles of various stain removers and carpet cleaners, some of which crash tothe floor.

She groans outloud and stoops, collecting each item and shoving it back in the cabinet,knowing the lack of organization will annoy her later but not bothering to carenow. She untwists the cap of the detergent and, not paying close enoughattention to her task, pours far too much into the measuring cap and spends thenext few seconds pouring it back into the bottle. Of course, some trickles downthe side of the bottle and leaves a sticky blue mess.

Clicking hertongue in annoyance, Chloe tugs open the machine’s soap drawer, pours thedetergent into the slot, then slams the drawer closed. Her movements sharp andquick, she screws the cap back onto the detergent untidily, causing even moreof the soap to run down the sides of the bottle and onto her hand. With a huff,she wipes the bottle and her hand clean with some tissue and slams thedetergent onto its proper shelf so it knows what it’s done. Kicking the laundrycabinet door closed, she pounds her hand on the washer’s “start” button, whosecheery wash cycle jingle only worsens her temper.

Chloe blows astrand of hair from her eyes.

Is it really thathard to remember to switch clothes over to the dryer in a reasonable amount oftime? Or, is it so hard to do the dishes? Or, heaven forbid, put them away? Achore that Beca had neglected all week. Beca’s been neglecting lots ofhousehold tasks, now that Chloe thinks of it. Vacuuming, bathroom cleaning,studio organizing, meal prep. In fact, Chloe can’t recall a single thing Becaactually has helped with recently.

Chloe clenchesher jaw. They’re supposed to be a team.They’re supposed to work together to maintain house and home. They’re supposedto slow dance while cooking. They’re supposed to throw socks at each other whenfolding laundry. They’re supposed to trade kisses while passing one another inthe hall, one armed with a broom and the other pushing a vacuum.

But no. It’s beenChloe pulling both of their weights around the house, doing all the chores,while Beca sits behind her laptop mixing and doing who-knows-what, a veritableBeca Show while Chloe slaves away.

And she’s hadenough.

Gritting herteeth, Chloe barks out, “Beca! Where are you?”

A briefhesitation, then a small sounding, “Studio,” comes from Beca’s generaldirection.

Chloe snortsderisively. Of course. She stomps toward the study, moving quickly throughtheir kitchen and dining room and into the hall. The door to the studio roomBeca has claimed as her workspace is open a crack already, but Chloe stillflings it open. She holds onto the handle so it doesn’t ricochet off the wall(the last thing she needs right now is a drywall hole to patch) but it stillhas the desired effect; Beca stares at her from her desk, eyes wide andstartled.

“Chl—”

“Beca, what thehell?”

“I—”

“I had to restartthe washer because the clothes you leftin there started to mold.”

Which isn’tstrictly true. They just smelled kind of bad. But still, Beca’s grimacedelivers no small amount of satisfaction.

“I know, Iforgot, and—”

“You’reforgetting a lot!” Chloe cries, throwing her hands into the air. “Dishes,floors, bathrooms, cooking—”

“Chloe—”

“We need to eat, Beca! Do you want us both toabsolutely starve because you forgot to meal prep? I mean Jesus,Beca, I could pass out at work fromhunger if I don’t have lunch!”

Beca’s lipstwitch. Chloe feels some of her anger deflate, but rallies quickly.

“And what aboutthe—the floors? If we don’t vacuum—allergens! Molds! Dust! Everywhere!” Chloelists, regaining momentum. “Dirty carpets lead to heart disease, Beca, I readthat in the—”

“I’m sorry!” Becamanages, hands raised in a peace offering. “Really. I’m sorry. Work has beencrazy lately, and—”

“I work, too!”Chloe declares imperiously, though she knows her regular 9-to-5 hours as amusic teacher are less demanding than Beca’s often-erratic schedule meetingwith rising singers seeking production. “And yet I do everything!” She moves,storming farther into the room to join Beca behind the desk to peer at herlaptop. “What could you possibly beworking on that’s more important than—”

Chloe cutsherself off with a choking noise, unable to believe her eyes. She stares at thelaptop screen for a long moment, then looks back at Beca, who grins sheepishlywhile seeming to shrink into her office chair.

“So, um, I’vebeen thinking—”

“DOGS?” Chloeshouts, pointing an accusing finger at the laptop. “I’ve been breaking my BACKaround OUR house doing YOUR chores because you’re too busy looking at picturesof DOGS?”

“Um.” Beca says.“It’s the Humane site? I’ve just been thinking, you know, it might be nice tohave a dog?”

Chloe sputterswordlessly, despite the tiny part of her that agrees with Beca whole-heartedly.It would be really nice to have a dog. But she’s on a warpath, damn it, and shecan’t stop now. So, she draws herself up to her full height.

Beca’s eyes widenstill further. “They’re so fluffy, Chlo, look.”

“You’re notmature enough to be a dog parent!!” Chloe spits.

Beca’s eyebrowsdraw together and she lifts her chin, defiant. “Oh yeah? Try me!”

The words comeout loud and challenging, and for a second, they glare at each other. A smallmuscle twitches in Beca’s cheek, and Chloe has a fleeting thought towardkissing it.

Just like that,most of her anger drains away. She’s never managed to stay angry at Beca forlong.

“Fine,” she huffs,pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. I’ll ‘try you,’” she says, and noteswith satisfaction the sudden uncertainty in Beca’s eyes. “Time to go mattressshopping.”

Beca’s expressionturns to one of mingled horror and devastation. They’ve been talking aboutpurchasing a new mattress since their wedding, having used Chloe’s same oncesince college—which had been purchased secondhand from her cousin before herfreshman year. Which was several years ago. It’s safe to say the mattress hadbeen solidly worn out for a long time, with actual dips in the spots theyusually sleep. It’s just that mattress shopping—spending at least a few hoursin some stuffy mattress store, trying out the hundreds of options and findingsomething they both agree on—is such a chore that they’ve put it off.

Chloe standstriumphant, positive that Beca will drop the dog thing and agree to help morearound the house; basically, anything to delay the mattress shoppingexperience.

However.

To Chloe’ssurprise, Beca’s consternation changes quickly to resolve. She stands from herchair to meet Chloe’s eyes and closes her laptop.

“Fine!” Becasays, wearing that smug, closed lipped smile. “Let me get my keys.”

************

It takes themalmost twenty minutes to actually get in the car, because Beca is too stubbornto admit she lost her keys and wastes fifteen minutes stalling. Chloe finallydigs out her own keys and drives them to the nearest mattress store in silence.

When they arriveat the mattress store, Chloe is relieved to see the parking lot is fairly quietwith few customers. Beca isn’t a huge fan of crowds, and the guilt over makingher mattress shop on a weekend is already starting to set in a little. If therehad been a ton of people there, Chloe would have felt worse about it.

Maybe Beca sensesher guilt; her hand smoothes over Chloe’s lower back as they enter the store.The small gesture tells Chloe she has nothing to feel bad for, and that Beca’sright there with her.

“Good afternoon!”an older, smiling sales associate greets them almost immediately. Chloe’s eyesflick to a nametag: Jerry. His easy-going demeanor and welcoming expressionbring a smile to Chloe’s face.

“Hi!” she greets.“We’re looking for a king-sized, please. Can you help us with that?” As shealways does with new people, she looks for any telltale flicker behind his eyesat the realization that she and Beca are a couple. Thankfully, nothing in hisopen expression changes, and a moment later, Beca’s hand slips comfortably intohers.

“Definitely,”Jerry nods. “Right this way, please.”

He leads them toa side room, where dozens of the king-sized mattresses are aligned perfectly,gathered by brand and further organized by mattress quality and specifications.Maybe seeing their overwhelmed expressions, Jerry begins talking them throughthe advantages and disadvantages of certain brands, as well as the importanceof lumbar support, firmness-to-softness ratio, and customizable comfortsettings. Beca’s eyes glaze over about thirty seconds into his speech, thoughChloe catches her occasionally blinking in effort to pay attention.

It really, trulyisn’t anything against Jerry. It’s simply that mattress shopping is horrible.

It’s a bit of arelief when Jerry finishes the information overload. “I can see that you havemuch to consider,” he says kindly. “I’ll check on some other customers and comeback in a few minutes?”

“That’d be great,thank you,” Beca says, pulling herself out of whatever loop of music Chloe ispositive was running through her mind.

Chloe smiles atJerry as he returns to the main floor, and then turns to Beca. “Fun, right?”

“Super fun,” Becasays. “Very adult. Very mature of us to be here. Purchasing mattresses.”

“Mmm.”

“King-sized,even,” Beca continues. “Upgrade.”

“I thought wecould at least get a nice one.” Chloe walks toward a mattress, sitting on theedge and bouncing a little. “Ooh, Bec, this one is springy!”

“Oh yeah?” Becaasks, wiggling her eyebrows and slowly pacing to Chloe. “That’ll be fun…”

Chloe feels theheat rise in her neck as Beca draws closer.

“…for bouncingon!” Beca finishes her sentence, jumping completely onto the mattress andstanding on it. Before Chloe can stop her, she jumps on it once, making thewhole thing bounce under them both. “See?” Beca asks proudly, looking down ather.

“Get down!” Chloehisses, even while fighting a smile. “Jerry might be back soon!”

Instead, Becaextends her left hand. “Care to join me, m’Lady?”

It’s really thesight of Beca’s wedding band that does it. Chloe gives Beca her own left hand,and Beca helps her to her feet so they’re both standing on the bed.

“Beautiful,” Becasmiles, and it’s the easiest thing in the world for Chloe to lean forward andkiss her quickly.

“You’re just asbeautiful,” she says.

“Mmm, very true,”Beca agrees with a crooked grin. “We’re both stunning. Now, wanna race to theother side of the room?”

“Oh, it is soon,” Chloe says, and before Beca can so much as blink, she’s jumping from theirmattress to the next, bounding along, aiming for the far wall.

“Cheater!” Becacalls out, and then all Chloe can hear is Beca’s laughter from behind her andthe regular squeaking of bed springs as Beca jumps on the mattresses.

They race, Chloein the lead, bouncing from mattress to mattress, focused on their end goal. Theelation of it fills Chloe, rises in her chest with every jump she takes, andshe feels like a child. Beca draws closer, until she keeps pace with Chloe, andthen they’re not so much racing as they are just keeping near each other. Themattresses are large enough that they can bounce a few times on each beforeleaping to the next, and by the time Chloe gets close to the finish line, herlegs burn with effort.

She arrives onthe final mattress barely an instant before Beca does, and the second Becalands, she wraps her arms around Chloe’s waist and falls, taking her down tothe soft display bed with her.

They’re bothlaughing and out of breath, and Chloe clings to Beca, who pulls her close, eyesdropping to Chloe’s lips, and—

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

************

The car ride homeis as silent as the ride to the store had been.

Chloe keeps hereyes resolutely on the road, both hands firmly on the wheel. Beside her, Becastares out the passenger window.

Traffic hasgotten heavier, people going out to dinner or to shows to enjoy the weekend.They get stuck at a red light. It’s the same one that Chloe swears she always gets stuck at; it definitely hasit out for her.

Beca clears herthroat softly. “So… he was kinda grumpy, wasn’t he?”

The dam breaksand laughter bubbles up from Chloe’s chest. Beca starts laughing too, real,rich laughter that only makes Chloe laugh harder. They laugh, and keeplaughing, each one setting off the other, and it doesn’t subside until Chloe’sstomach hurts and her cheeks ache.

“Oh my god,” shemanages weakly, wiping tears from her eyes as the traffic light turns green andthey inch forward with the crowd of cars. “I thought he was going to kill us.”

“Nah, Jerrywouldn’t do that,” Beca says, waving a hand. “He was trying not to laugh thewhole time he was banning us from the store.”

“He still bannedus though!”

“Only because hetotally had to,” Beca argues. “We still ordered a mattress, so at least wedon’t have to do that again for a while.”

“It was more funthan I thought it would be,” Chloe concedes, taking her eyes off the road onlyfor a moment to smile at her wife.

“It was,” Becaagrees. “Though, maybe you were right about me not being mature. I’m sorry,Chlo. I’ll help more around the house and with everything.”

“I’d appreciatethat,” Chloe sighs happily. “And then, you know, we can talk about being dogparents.”

Beca perks upimmediately. “Yeah?”

“Totes,” Chloereplies easily. “And, maybe, eventually… parent-parents?” she glances over,biting her lip.

Beca is lookingat her like she put the stars in the sky. “That would be nice,” she says.

“Then it’s adeal,” Chloe agrees. “Just… no letting the dog on the new bed, okay?”

Beca doesn’tanswer.

“Bec, I mean it!”

“No promises,Chlo.”

#bechloe #Anonymous #my writing #bechloe fluff #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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