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yeojaa · 5 years ago

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ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears. You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard. The best part? You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main. He might just love you.

alt summary. Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing. jeon jungkook

genre + rating. fluffy crack. general, for now.

warning / tags. long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish), eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch. tags are hard. :(

reading. n/a. a three part one-shot.

word count. ~3400

part i.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 10 November, 2019. 2:13 AM.

It’s 2:13 AM when Jeon Jungkook finally finds a match, the familiar in-game sound dragging his attention away from the illuminated screen of his iPhone to the monitor before him. He studies the SR - 3779 and 3761, respectively - and skims burning eyes across the members on each team. Four rocks, including himself, and two Masters.

One of them has a strange name - BIGMELON - that he stares at until he's zoning out, trying to make sense of it. Was his teammate a pervert or just hilarious?

"Good luck and have fun, everyone!"

Your cheer filters through his headphones crystal clear but he's somehow still surprised, head tilting curiously to the side. He hadn't expected a girl to be playing Overwatch at quarter past two in the morning.

When there's no response - he notices no one else is in the voice chat, an oddity for such a high ranking game - he takes it upon himself to keep you company. His username lights up as his finger glides across the ALT key, sleep-worn words breaking the silence.

"Thanks, you too."

Nothing follows until BIGMELON appears once again in the upper left-hand corner of his screen. You have a nice voice, he thinks. "Are you sticking with Widow?"

Jungkook takes in the team comp: Sigma, Hog, Genji, and Lucio. A little unconventional but not wholly un-doable. They're on King's Row, too, which is one of his favourite maps. Balanced enough that people aren't too salty when they get headshot but with enough coverage that he can get clear picks.

"Should I?"

"If you want." A pause and your hero slot is filled with Mercy's portrait. "I can damage boost."

He thinks he can hear the teasing. It's soft and sweet and a little rough - like you'd just woken up.

"Who says I need it?" Comes his immediate response, question chased out of his mouth by a laugh he can't help. It echoes, filling the quiet of his bedroom. He hopes you don't take it the wrong way.

"O—kay, Widow main. We'll see if you get anything from me."

It's an empty threat because you're giggling along with him. It's distracting in the strangest way. The sound bounces around in his ears and he can't help but focus on it, realizing belatedly that he's still sitting in spawn as the timer runs down for setting up defence.

"Are you going to join us?" You quip, emoting right beside his stationary sniper. "I didn't queue just to have someone go AFK."

Mischief colours your words and he laughs again, snorting as he finally presses W. Two sets of footsteps echo in game and he presses SHIFT once he's hit point - and with just a few seconds left to spare - launching Widowmaker's body onto the balcony overwatching it. Mercy follows, Guardian Angel carrying her into the air to alight behind the blue-skinned hero.

As the timer hits 0:01, Jungkook right-clicks, scoping in on the second-floor spawn door.

BOOM.

The kill feed reads DDEOKKOOKI x STRIKER007.

"I guess you didn't need the damage boost."

He can't help the sound he makes - a marriage between a witch's shriek and a pig's snort. It leaps out of his mouth, louder than he intends, and he feels equally bad for you and his hyungs. He's definitely going to get an earful in the morning - or any minute now, when one of them bursts into his room to berate him for being so loud. "I told you."

"Yeah, yeah." The way you speak has him grinning from ear to ear, nose scrunching in amusement. Mercy is flying across the map, healing stream trained on Genji as the cyborg ninja just narrowly misses an errant Hanzo arrow and dashes back to point. "I'm gonna take care of the rest of our team. Let me know if you need anything, O' Headshot God."

You're clowning him hard but he knows it's all in good fun. Still, he likes the nickname and decides to keep it, effectively picking off the attacking team's stealthily half-hidden Junkrat and Ana right after.

"Show-off!"

Then he's dinked in the head - health dropping to 30 from the partially-charged shot. He needs heals like yesterday.

Unfortunately, Lucio is up at choke with the tanks, skating circles around the base of the statue as they hold point. Jungkook doesn't see you immediately - he’s scanning his screen for your witch skin (of course) - only realizing you've appeared at his side when his health bar begins to climb. "Try to stay alive, yeah?"

"My bad," he drawls, scoping in the same instant the kill feed announces two more enemy deaths.

There are only a critical Reinhardt and protected Zarya left. The former falls the moment he drops shield and her bubble doesn't reset in time; the Russian tank dies in the next instant, his charged shot firing the moment it hits 100%.

"Thanks for the damage boost."

"Any time."

Then you're gone, off to support the rest of your team again while he grapples onto a different ledge and continues his oppressive gameplay. He feels a little bad when the opposing team goes double shield tank and swaps their Junkrat for a Pharah. He feels less so when he's slept out of nowhere. Four seconds feels like an eternity when he’s out in the open - vulnerable as a baby lamb in a den of lions.

"Looks like you're really making them mad." You'd been relatively quiet when not tending to him - likely because it was only the two of you in voice chat - and he startles when your comment breaks the quiet lofi he has going in the background.

"I don't know why. I'm just having fun." He's lying. You're laughing.

"Too much fun, I think."

"Maybe they should be better." Jungkook says this like he's commenting on the weather or the colour of the sky - offhand and nonchalant. It makes your giggles come harder. He can hear the scratch of your mic as if you've doubled over and it's now pressed into cotton clothing. He can't help but pat himself on the back.

"Please don't tell me you're going to 'gg ez' them when we're done."

Now he's feigned offense, gasping at the mere thought. "Of course not. I'm not that rude!"

"Well, you never know." You're right. People could be the worst when it came to online gaming, spewing vitriol and hurling insults the moment their egos were bruised (or inflated).

"I promise I'm not an asshole." He's not really sure why he feels the need to make this abundantly clear. After all, he'd probably never play with you again. Korea's density of players was just too great - you were just one in hundreds, thousands, millions.

Still, he smiles when you reassure him you don't think he is. "I'm just teasing. You seem nice."

"I am nice." Spoken in the same instance he lands two consecutive headshots - one on the bouncing, wall-riding enemy Lucio and the other on the momentarily grounded Pharah. You must see that, because you're mocking him in that dulcet tone of yours, caramel coating words and turning them soft like toffee.

"Not according to them." And not that you mind, it seems, because you're damage boosting him as he catches their out-of-position Rein in his sight. He whoops in triumph, eliciting another bemused sound from you.

"You know they're going to do everything to counter you when we go on attack." Which was in sub-one minute, the timer counting down the last thirty seconds of your team's defense.

"Who says I'm going Widow again?"

You're scandalized. "You mean you're not just a filthy Widow main?"

For a moment, Jungkook wonders if this is how his older members feel when he (and Jimin and Taehyung) mercilessly rib them. He thinks it must be and oh, how the tables have turned. He decides he doesn't really mind, though. It's all innocent fun and it's keeping him awake, aided by the cold brew he'd chugged at midnight.

"Woah - says the Mercy player?"

"Mercy is a respectable support, okay!"

"Sure, e-girl."

"Take that back!" How the words explode out of his headphones makes him momentarily worry he might've overstepped but by the way your laughter chases it forward, he knows he hasn't. You can take it just as well as you can dish it.

"Okay, okay. You're a not bad healer." Because he hasn't died yet and last he checked, neither had your tanks. Genji had once or twice - to be expected, given his playstyle - and you had, but that was still pretty respectable.

He can practically hear you rolling your eyes. "Oh, thanks."

"Any time, BigMelon."

"That's ‘daebak’ to you, pal." Had he heard you wrong?

"What'd you say?"

There's a long pause - he's not sure whether it's for comedic purpose or something else. You sound muffled on the other end, as if you're repressing sound. "Because watermelon? Su-bak? So big melon is dae-bak?" Whatever you had stifled earlier disappears, torn away by the pride that shines bright yellow and boisterous in your peals of laughter.

It's such a bad joke that Jungkook feels like he's about to have an aneurysm. Were you Jin moonlighting as a Master support player?

"You're kidding me." He wonders if you hear him above your own glee, giggles making it hard for him to hear himself think. "What're you - a dad?"

You scoff now, parroting his words back to him. "What're you - the pun police?"

Another one?

He briefly considers ALT + F4-ing his way out of this match and away from your corniness. Considers it but ultimately decides against it, instead remaining stoically silent and choosing McCree when the hero selection screen slides into place. His silence will surely speak volumes.

"You know that was funny!" By the way he can practically hear your pout - it's endearing, much to his chagrin - he thinks you know where he stands.

"Not the word I'd use."

"You just have bad taste, McCree." You say it scathingly yet full of mirth, a sniff punctuating the end of your rebuttal.

"Do not!" He returns, just as quickly.

"Prove it. Laugh at my joke!" You're shameless, confident, reassured - it makes him chuckle.

You take it as his surrender though, your own laughter blending seamlessly with his. It goes on for longer than is strictly speaking necessary, crowding like cotton balls in his ears as you leave sprays of your hero - Ana this time - across the spawn walls. He wrecks every one of yours with his own, BAMF displayed in 1440p.

"Hey - stop that!" It doesn't matter that the round is about to start - you're spamming your melee button into him. He immediately does it back, toggling between that and his voice line.

The rest of your team is probably wondering what the hell you're both doing.

"Stop distracting me!" He barks into his mic, deep dimples on full display, nose scrunched adorably. He doesn't really mind - it's clear by his hyena cackles that follow - and he likes when your chorus of shut up's pitch and leap with your giggling.

As he navigates McCree out behind your tanks, he can't help but wish - maybe a little selfishly - that they'll lose this round and go into a best of three. When the opposing team's healers both die - one to Ashe's dynamite and the other to Zarya's high-charged beam - he knows that's not going to happen. Your team's going to cap point and then you're going to be gone - off to the next game and never to be matched with again.

"We did it, McCree." You sound deeply pleased as the last of the defenders fall, leaving point uncontested. The Lucio on your team lingers by the choke, ready to boop any last minute hoodlums; Echo hovers just above the enemy’s spawn, dealing damage the moment any hero comes in view. One of your tanks is already emoting.

VICTORY flashes across his screen.

"We sure did, BigMelon."

The cards come next - they're all for your team, though he isn't surprised. You'd gotten 37 defensive assists whereas he had 27% Infra-Sight uptime. He's sure you both vote for each other, the remaining four going to your other support's Sound Barrier casts.

"Thanks for the carry." He doesn't mean it facetiously. This is some of the most fun he's had in-game in ages.

"You're welcome," you chirp. He thinks you'll leave right after.

Instead, you both sit in voice chat in silence, watching the timer in the upper right-hand corner.

"Do you want to duo?" You ask in the same instance he does, breaking the both of you into a fit of laughter. It's more distracting than he realizes, the FINDING MATCH countdown replacing the end game statistics while you’re both still cackling.

Luckily, you invite him to a group right as he removes himself from queue.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Tuesday, 24 December, 2019. 11 PM.

It’s six weeks and a good three dozen games later - a feat for him, considering how much of his time is eaten up by literally every other obligation he has - when he asks for your name, not realizing the consequences of his action.

“Most people call me Jinny.” He thinks it fits you, bright and pretty and punchy. “What’s your name?”

Jungkook's unprepared for the question, though he shouldn’t be. Of course you’d want to know. Anyone would, if they’d already given their own answer.

He's silent for the longest time, quiet stretching on and on over group voice chat. He applauds you for your patience, how you don't press him on it when the hesitation has descended from appropriate to downright awkward.

"Uh." The word drops like a weight, crashing through the tentative friendship you've built over the past weeks.

"You don't have to tell me," you supply as softly as he's ever heard you. It's the first time you've seemed uncertain - and it bothers him that he's the reason. "I get that we haven't known each other that long."

As if that's actually the issue. He would've told you the night you spent four hours together, taking wins left and right, filling the time in between matches with silly banter that had his jaw aching from laughter. He would’ve told you on that random Thursday, when you’d listened to him talk about his busy day, effortlessly keeping him occupied - and amused - while your SR nearly descended below 3500. He would’ve even told you yesterday, when you’d said you were going to bed, only to be roped into another six games by Jungkook’s eagerness.

It has absolutely nothing to do with time - or the lack thereof.

But he can't say that - can't tell you who he really is - so he improvises as best he can. "My friends call me Jay."

"Jay, huh?" You turn the sound over on your tongue, like you're tasting it for the first time, trying to decide whether you love it or hate it. He hopes you don’t hate it. "Then I guess we're the best J-duo to ever exist."

"Woah, we?" He's only doing it to rile you up, finding it cute when you huff and puff and threaten to let him die in-game. You never make good on the threat anyway; you just like to see him sweat, watching as his health bar drops to measly single digits. "I don't think I agreed to that."

It's your turn to mock him, that same edge turning your words into sour candy. "Fine. You can find yourself a new healer. We'll see how your SR likes that, Bronzie boy!"

Neither of you really take the game that seriously but he gasps like he's been shot.

"No! Don't leave me with them!" The way he howls the plea is enough to return you both to your rightful place - one filled with boisterous laughter and things he never thought would see the light of day.

Because somehow, he's found somewhere he feels safe - a place he feels like himself, with no pretenses or expectations. It’s where he can rant and rave, bouncing from topic to topic like an energizer bunny with no end in sight. It’s, oddly enough, with you.

Connected through voice chat and built by an endless stream of communication - sometimes productive, other times not - the space you’ve carved out together has come to feel like a third home. It isn’t quite what he has with his family or his members but it’s just as nice.

Different, but nice.

"Fine. You're forgiven." You sniff in that peculiar way of yours and he snickers loudly. "How was your day?"

And this is why it is - because it's ordinary. It’s where Jungkook can rest his head and drift for a while without worry of what’s over the horizon, ready to swallow him whole the moment he takes his eyes off the calm blue sea. He's not raised on a pedestal with you, all the weight of his choices resting on his shoulders. He's just a normal guy playing games.

It might not make up for all the years of normalcy he's missed out on - the movies after school, the street markets on weekends, the holiday parties with classmates - but it's enough.

He eats it up like he's been starved of it.

"Busy. Really busy. I had dance practice all afternoon and forgot to eat so I'm dying now." There'd been a time - about three weeks in - when he'd chosen his words more carefully. He'd been worried he might let something slip but he's found what feels like the sweet spot now, where he can tell you about his day without thinking he’ll suddenly shatter the image you have of him.

It's not always easy - he has to remember to never mention names or intimate details - but it's better than nothing. He can finally tell someone about his day like he wants - all of the good and the bad, too.

"You should make something to eat!"

He's used to your reprimands but he still laughs, crossing his long legs beneath him as he readjusts in his computer chair. "But we're in queue."

"Jay!" It comes out devoid of static, clear as the waning sunshine that filters through his blinds and reflects particles of dust that drift lazily through his bedroom.

"I'll make something after we win." He knows what you're thinking - that he's gone and jinxed your whole night. You’re weirdly superstitious, something he's learned only recently.

As if right on cue: "Shut up!"

Your words sweep his expression up with glee and giddiness, like a kid on Christmas morning; lines dig themselves into the bridge of his nose and the delicate skin beneath his eyes. Jungkook tells himself it’s the usual pre-game jitters but he knows it’s more than that.

It’s you and that infectious giggle that careens through his headphones, making him see everything in a pretty haze of warmth.

He’s not sure when you’d started having this particular effect on him - maybe since the beginning? - but he feels it now, clearer than ever. Every tinkling laugh makes his heart speed up, thump around his chest like a baseball missing its mark. The sight of you logging in elicits the biggest, possibly dorkiest smile, all slightly too-big front teeth and deep dimples. You have him rushing through his post-practice showers and devouring dinner in half the time he usually would just to get online a minute more quickly.

There's just something about you.

And sure - a part of him wonders whether it's all in his head (as if it could be anywhere else). Wonders if he's seeing you through rose-tinted glasses, doing to you what so many do to him. Was he in over his head, praying to a deity that didn't even know he existed?

Sometimes it felt that way - a little out of reach, like childhood crushes and summer love and wishing upon a star. Certainly far too much for a blossoming friendship of just a month and a half.

But then you laugh and it's Pop Rocks fizzling in his stomach and he knows that no - it's there and it's real.

Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

notes. i love overwatch and i love jeon jeongguk. what more can i say? :)

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onepiecereactions · 4 years ago

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Vice-Admiral Smoker and the joys of administration, OS

Smoker, Tashigi, Garp, Kizaru OS.

Humour.

Warning vulgarity.

2100 words.

English Version

Vice-Admiral Smoker and the joys of administration

Smoker hated coming backfrom a mission. Don't get me wrong, he loves his job! But two things annoyed him the most about these moments.

On the one hand, that meant not going on the sea for at least a few weeks. Indeed, Marineford had established a complex system of turnover of vice-admirals so, with some exceptions, at least 3 vice admirals are always present on the base in case of necessity.

The feeling of freedom, feeling the air on his face, not being locked, that was what made Smoker happy deep inside him. That and the feeling of having helped the citizens and brought some justice back to this damn world, obviously.

On the other hand, returning to base meant a horrible administrative mountain. And just thinking about it, headaches were already migrating through the vice-admiral's head. Luckily, Tashigi was always ready to help him and do some of his duties to let him rest.

So it was with a heavy heart that Smoker set foot on the base for the first time after months of mission. While Tashigi was already rushing into his office with the firm intention of working all night to do her report on time, Smoker was walking mechanically to his private apartments. He threw his dirty jacket on the floor, took a long, hot shower, and get into his bed, already cursing tomorrow's hellish day.

The next morning the vice-admiral woke up in a bad mood. He grabbed his jacket that he had left on the soaked bathroom floor and sighed: it was ruined. As resistant as the clothes made by Marineford are, staying intact when you get cannonballs in your back is complicated. And Smoker, unlike many of the women on the base, hated walking around topless.

So his first resolution of the day was to go find a new jacket. And of course, he was going to ask Tashigi to do it for him. At first, as a man of integrity, Smoker was remorseful about leaving so many of his tasks to his colleague, even if the latter was doing wonderfully. But after several years in Marineford, honestly, now he didn't care.

So he grabbed his den den mushis and called the brunette. After several seconds of waiting, Tashigi did not pick up. Smoker worried, it was very unusual for the young woman who had a reputation for answering even when she was asleep.

He then quickly took two cigars from his desk, threw his dead jacket over his back, and walked quickly to his office.

Misfortune never happening alone, of course, on the way he passed Admiral Kizaru. The latter joined him in his race to his office and took the opportunity to discuss. The Yellow Admiral had the reputation of loving to talk, much to the misfortune of Smoker who loved calm above all else.

"Oh, tell me dear friend, are the holes in the jacket a new fashion? I know that I am no longer very young but still, I don’t understant. Is it to provide a ventilation system? Don't tell me you have a fever my dear friend? Do you want me to call the dear caregivers of the "

Kizaru didn't even have time to finish his monologue when he got the door of Smoker's office in the face. The latter had already crushed his cigars to refrain from hitting the high-ranking officer in the face.

Once he was sure he heard the yellow monkey leave, he got into the chair across from his desk and reached into the second drawer to extract two new cigars.

After a few seconds of enjoying the smoke reaching his lungs, Smoker grabbed the stationary den den mushi of his desk and, as he went to call Tashigi, a note stuck to the back of his device intrigued him.

"Even though I warned you last night, that I sent you an official mail 48 hours before and that I slipped a note under the door of your apartment, I want to remind you, just in case, that I am absent that day until 7:30 p.m. All the captains have a meeting. I wish you a very nice day. Captain TASHIGI. "

Oh shit. For a little Smoker could have cried. It was certainly one of the worst announcements he could receive. No Tashigi. No Tashigi for a whole day! One more day after a mission! All the calls and assignments she receives today will go straight back to him, her boss! In addition to her work he was going to have to do his own! With holes in his jacket.

Smoker decided to go on strike. The schedule for that day was already far too scary to be able to live it. A thousand times he would have preferred to fight against Monkey D Luffy rather than going through it.

He then decided he would do what was necessary. He got up quickly from his seat, crashed out of his office and almost ran towards Building C. It was barely nine in the morning but the Vice Admiral thought he was fainting when he saw the huge queue in front of the door. . Obviously, it was Monday, and those morons in the administrative sector never worked weekends.

He then did like everyone else, walked over to the door to grab a numbered ticket, sat down on one of the few free seats and waited.

To his left was an ordinary soldier, without a shirt and pants, just his underwear. Smoker could smell a familiar scent of magma. Akainu had made his own again during the training of his subordinates.

Smoker looked at his ticket, number 38 and sighed. As he was about to improvise a nap while waiting his turn, his portable den den mushis rang.

"Vice-Admiral Smoker, I'm listening. » He said wearily.

The soldier at the other end of the line looked surprised to find the Vice Admiral and not the Captain. “Captain Tashigi is in a meeting, her calls are being redirected to me. If it's not urgent hang up ". Without further ado, the soldier hung up to the vice-admiral's delight.

1 hour later.

"I swear in front of Gol D Roger that if that damn den den mushi rings one more time I will blow his head against the wall." Grumbled the marine for the third time in a minute.

After an hour of waiting and 15 calls, the Vice Admiral was finally called into the room.

He almost tore his jacket from his back, put it violently on the desk while trying to keep his nerves and glared at the woman in front of him who remained unmoved.

"Vice Admiral Smoker, registration number XXXX, I need a new model 3 series AB size 98 jacket with option 13". Smoker had been clear, to the point, and hardly angry.

The woman, who was well into her fiftieth, looked at him indifferently.

“It doesn't work like that, vice-admiral. She said in a weary voice, as if she was talking to the first moron in the area.

Smoker struggled not to crush his cigars again but revised himself to think it would be difficult to face this without cigars.

"So how do you do in this case?" He asked sharply.

The woman didn't even bother to answer him, she just gave him a form. Smoker thought it was a big joke when he found himself with a five-page double-sided document in his hands.

" Are you kinding me ? Five fucking pages for a fucking jacket? Can't you just write 22 fucking words on a fucking post it note and talk about it? Bellowed the Vice Admiral who was already starting to turn to smoke in annoyance.

"Blblblbl, blblblbl, blbllb" The den den mushi began to ring, straining Smoker's last strength to stay calm.

" It's not my fault ". The woman began in a slow, boring voice.

Blblblbl, blbllblb, blbllb

"If you are too stupid"

Blblblb, blblbl, blbllb

"To complete a simple form"

Blblbllbbl, blblbl

"That even Kizaru gets to"

Blblbl, SCRATCH.

The vice-admiral's den den mushi flew across the room, finishing its course into the wall.

To the slow voice of the woman was added the tears of the den den mushi.

"FUCK OF," Smoker yelled as he stormed out of the room to make sure his fist didn't end up in the woman's face. He went out like a madman and locked himself in his office to try to find calm and serenity.

He grabbed a third cigar and after about ten minutes of relaxation began to fill out the damn form. He was only halfway through when the door to his office slammed open, knocking out the lustrous wood that had already received quite a few knocks.

"Ah my dear friend, I went to the infirmary and got you some medicine to lower your temperature. But beware, this is a suppository! ".

Smoker felt his heart stop beating when he saw the yellow admiral's face in front of his nose.

Blblblb, blbllb

"Oh my dear friend I think someone is trying to reach you on your stationary den den mushi. "

Blblblb, blbllb

"Maybe you should answer, maybe it's urgent, don't you think? "

Blblblbl, blbllb

Smoker had a vision. The den den mushi stuck, smeared with haki, right in the middle of the admiral's face, his nose bleeding.

It took phenomenal self-control for the vice-admiral not to reproduce his impulses. For the second time, he chooses to escape.

He took a pen with him to finish filling out the damn file that had become completely unreadable so much he had massacred it.

He found himself in front of the lingerie door, walked past all the soldiers and walked into the office. He barely had time to put a foot inside when he felt a stapler cross his face with its smoke.

"I DON'T THINK I CALLED YOUR NUMBER!" Yelled the woman who had "briefed" him earlier.

Smoker crushed the doorknob but stayed calm. He turned around, took a ticket from the machine, and sat down in the only seat available: the one next to Vice-Admiral Garp. "

Smoker sighed and prayed to all the gods that this old fool would leave him in peace.

So he settled down next to him and inspected him discreetly. He then realized that the old man's uniform was impeccably worn if the traces of grease were omitted from his shirt from all the donuts he had. But the Marineford hero wasn’t wearing socks.

"Don't ask questions kid." The grandfather simply told him when he met Smoker's gaze.

"Hey Smoker, I heard you're after my grandson. Did you know that when he was young he used to have fun sticking his finger up his nose to eat his boogers? Except that this stupid pirate, as he is elastic, he always ended up bleeding from the nose. Suddenly he would start screaming and running in all directions. Most of the time he would smash into a tree or a wall and fall apart, by the time the bleeding ended. Did you also know he got clean very late? I had to buy him pyjamas with an opening pocket on the buttocks because he never managed to undo his buttons and ended up pooping on himself? Ah and also the time when ”.

Smoker wanted to: die.

Blblblb, blbllbl

A mirage ? a hallucination?

"Vice-Admiral Garp, I'm listening. Ah hi Sengoku, how are you? A fishing trip? Now ? Ah I'm coming. By the way, don't you have pairs of socks to lend me? »And so the Vice Admiral disappeared through the maze of hallways, much to Smoker's delight.

It took no less than forty-five additional minutes of waiting for Smoker to finally put the damn file in the damn good drawer which, by chance again, was in building A and, as it happened, no administrative soldier was available to take the paper which he therefore had to deposit himself.

The same day, at 10 p.m.

"A call for you Vice Admiral Smoker." The bartender handed the den den mushi to the vice-admiral, who took a last sip of sake before answering.

"Good evening Vice-Admiral, I hope you had a good day! » Tashigi began. "I was wondering why you weren't answering den den mushi... I received an official document for you. It involves a fine for "disrespecting an administrative colleague" as well as a two-week ban from returning to the lingerie office. Is everything okay ”.

"I STILL PREFER TO WALK NAKED THAN TO RETURN TO THIS OFFICE".

#one piece #vice admiral smoker #monkey d garp #tashigi #Kizaru

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wolfontheloose · 4 years ago

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If there was something Ryden hated with a passion, it was the day after coming back from a long trip. Not that he travelled often really, this was the first time he’d been away from home for a while. Apparently it’s never too late to acquire a new pet peeve. The day after coming back home was the day when you realize that your fridge is empty, that you have no toilet paper stashed and no clean underwear. So the sooner he did some shopping, the better.

Wandering down the So-op’s ever crowded streets with a paper bag of groceries in one hand and his phone in the other, he rushed to get all the stuff on his to do list done as soon as possible so he could move on to some more important things. Like afternoon naps and maybe gym. Work definitely, he had to go down to the car shop and the Den asap.

Mumbling to himself and making notes on his phone, his quick pace faltered when a tempting smell tickled his nostrils. A hot dog stand, just opened for business, no queue and ready to take his order first. Feeling his mouth water, Ryden took a step back as if hypnotized, drawn in by the delicious prospect of meat in a bun lathered with mustard and mayo. Or maybe two of those and one to go.

Entranced like that, it hadn’t occurred to him that some pedestrians may be walking behind him, now put in a grave danger of walking into a retreating wall of a man who wouldn’t blink twice if an SUV bumped into him.

@selenerosefae

#::RydenxSelene #hope this is fine!

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chaletnz · 8 years ago

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Christmas in Prague: Day One

Only one month into my new job in Frankfurt and they were already having me lock in my vacation days for December! I planned for four consecutive days off and then somehow also ended up with three days off together also with one day off connecting with I’m the weekend of the following week. Michael told me that he and Vik had booked tickets to Prague and they invited me along with them. Since I did in fact have some days off, and the bus ride isn’t actually too far or too expensive I decided to revisit a city that I had thoroughly enjoyed seeing a little over a year ago. At midnight I boarded the trusty Flixbus at Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof which was crawling with creepy people on a Saturday night. I sat uncomfortably in my seat trying to get some sleep despite this annoying girl behind me coughing and sniffing every 20 seconds to keep me awake. I dozed off at some point near Nuremberg and had a weird dream about working in a restaurant where I was serving food but all of the orders were wrong and I had to take them back to the kitchen but we’ll never know how it ended as my alarm was waking me up as we were nearing Prague. This was my second arrival to the city in the early morning and freezing cold and I clearly hadn’t learned my lesson! I stopped at the ATM for a quick cashup in local currency and then hit the streets in search of an open breakfast spot - not the easiest feat on a Sunday morning at 7.30am. I passed a few nice looking (but closed) places before I settled on the Bake House. I remembered this cafe from when I took the walking tour last time and we stopped here midway for a coffee break. It was already quite busy so I lined up and ordered my breakfast feast of a cinnamon yoghurt muffin, apple croissant, cappuccino and gingerbread man. I sat in the warmth until a huge Italian family arrived and dominated the cafe screeching loudly to force out most of the other visitors. I continued along the main road towards the Jewish area then crossed over the bridge taking my scenic shots of Prague and the Charles Bridge along the way. I followed Google maps and a German tour group to the Lennon Wall which was a little disappointing by my street art standards! The Lennon Wall had been the only main attraction of Prague I hadn’t seen the first time I’d visited so it was vital that I went this time but I realized I wasn’t missing out on much. The original Lennon portrait has been painted over it seems, the one featured on all the postcards is no longer on the wall, or maybe I missed it… the entire wall is a mish mash of different coloured tags and the most common graffiti with random tourists adding their names to the mix. Overall quite unimpressive when you compare it to the art in Berlin or Ljubljana! I crossed back over the Charles Bridge noticing immediately how much less crowded it was compared to when I was Prague at the end of September 2016. It was almost shoulder to shoulder last time but now I could actually see the street vendors and their wares as I walked trying to keep out of the way of the large Asian tour group brandishing their selfie sticks around obnoxiously. The Christmas markets were just setting up for the day and lighting the coals to start cooking all of their hams and sausages. It seemed that each square I passed had its own small Christmas market; a few small stalls decorated with logs of wood freshly chopped for the fire and huge pans and grill plates. There was hot chocolate, wine, cider, punch, and various other warm drinks being served out of large thermos pots. While I waited for Michael and Vik to arrive from Berlin I decided to keep warm in the mall and do some shopping. Since I didn’t really have space, or cash to throw around it ended up being mostly window shopping. By some odd coincidence Michael, Vik and I all arrived at the hotel at the same time and then headed out for our prearranged pancake brunch. The cafe I had chosen was quite far away and we ended up passing a cat cafe - let’s just say that the excitement on Vik’s face was reason enough for us to change our plans! Inside we ordered three hot chocolates and sat downstairs in the cat den. The three of us were the only guys in the cafe, it seemed mostly a crowd of older women and young students. Vik was chasing the cats around the room and taking photos of them all while Michael and I sat back, sipped our hot chocolates and tried to read the little biography book of all of the cats (in Czech of course). With the lack of pancakes leaving us hungry we headed back into the market area for lunch. We joined the longest line believing that a queue like this doesn’t happen unless the food is good! Eventually we reached the front and Vik ordered a ham baguette and sausage while I waited and observed. The three guys working there were clearly feeling under pressure, and didn’t have any proper system for ordering. As I was waiting I saw a woman being handed her ham baguette and told the price is 500 crowns which she reluctantly paid. I could understand her frustrations as the price on their sign said 89 crowns (per 100g of ham) plus 50 crowns for the baguette. Vik took his baguette first and then Michael stayed back and took the sausage but they were preparing another sausage while I ordered, carefully tapping exactly on the price so they knew I wanted the 100 grams. Michael stood beside me and they presented another sausage towards him saying “for your friend?” To which Michael quickly replied “no he already got his.” Of course I was given my roll with him telling me the price was 370 crowns. I quickly refused to pay that and said I’d asked clearly for 100g, he angrily took out the extra meat, wrapped it back up and still overcharged me by 11 crowns. Once I was reunited with Vik and Michael we discovered that actually Vik hadn’t paid for his ham baguette at all and, like the tourist trap it is, was completely loaded with ham! We hustled the hustlers! After our cheeky cheap lunch we headed back to the hotel to check in, shower and nap. We met up again a few hours later in the executive lounge where we had our usual alcoholic treats and some bites before braving the freezing cold again and going out for dinner. We couldn’t resist a walk around the central streets and Christmas market before we found a nice traditional Czech restaurant with a large menu and cheap beers. Michael opted for the goulash while Vik and I had a potato soup each which came served in a hollowed out loaf of bread. It was an interesting meal, and an oddly traditional feeling restaurant. Vik’s ears were freezing off so we decided to walk back to the comfort of the hotel and get an early night to make up for our lack of sleep the night before!

#Czech Republic #Prague

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charlesjening · 6 years ago

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The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over

For weeks on end now your entire existence has revolved around busy season and all the misery that brings. Your significant other hasn’t heard from you in days and even your dog is suspicious of you when you finally arrive home late in the evening, suspecting you might be a burglar. Your best friend is the Postmates guy who probably knows more about you and your habits than your own mother. Suffice to say, you’ve rearranged your life around this trying time of year.

And now it’s over. So where do you go from here? After a well-deserved nap, of course. It’s normal to need a bit of time to decompress, kind of like when hostages are rescued and slowly introduced back into society.

I’m a Terrible Pet Owner Regret

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Hey, remember that furry little critter that shares your home with you? Yeah, that’s yours. You pledged to care of it for a lifetime, but shit happens (quite literally, actually, when we’re talking about pets), and thanks to busy season, you might be a few months behind on grooming. Don’t beat yourself up too bad, just be sure to take that good boi to the park this weekend to catch up on some quality ball-throwing time.

I’m an Entire Season Behind Regret

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The underrated gift of modern times is binge-watching TV on demand. I’m old enough to remember when we had to sit in front of the VCR and manually press play in the hopes I could catch “Headbangers Ball” on time, assuming grandma wasn’t tying up our only TV by falling asleep on the couch to CNN yet again. You kids don’t know how good you have it, seriously. Still, if you’ve been neck-deep in busy season, chances are you may have missed entire seasons of your favorite show. Lucky for you it’s right there at the press of a button. Settle in and indulge, you earned it.

The Spores Have Set In Regret

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Why the hell don’t you have a maid? Did playing The Sims not teach you anything? Even just a monthly deep clean is so worth it, especially when you spend a mere seven hours a day at your home, the majority of which are dedicated to sleeping. If you’re not the maid-having type, chances are busy season did a number on your home. Do yourself a favor and just hire someone to take care of that disgusting mess.

The Stranger in My Bed Regret

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Your wife/husband/significant other/fuckbuddy is a gosh darn saint for putting up with you all these weeks. If you’re extra lucky, they walked your dog and took out your trash while you were aimlessly wandering from a den of spreadsheets, home to bed, and then back to your hellish work nest again. Maybe it’s a good thing you’ve hardly seen them through busy season; your relationship will be like new again! Or not. Maybe it’ll be creepy when you find this stranger spooning you in the middle of the night. Whatever. Take them out for dinner and get re-acquainted. Or better, have them take you out.

The Text Queue Regret

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Just like your dog and your SO, your friends have probably been missing you while you’ve been held captive by busy season. You may have dozens of text messages that you thought you responded to or meant to get to but never did. Time to hit up all those third-rate pals and let them know you’re still alive. Don’t bother with the “sorry, I was busy” explainer, you’re cutting into all important GoT binging time by explaining yourself to people you can barely be arsed to speak to a few times a year.

The Vitamin D Deficiency Regret

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Look, we know you’re eager to get outside during daylight. You’re looking pastier than a slab of pastry dough in a Tasty cooking video if you’re on the low melanin spectrum. Look on the bright side (no pun), the lack of sunlight means your skin isn’t aging as fast as those losers who actually get outside from January to April. Still, you need some Vit D. Get your ass outside and soak that shit up.

Look, now that busy season has ended. you probably regret a lot of things, from neglecting your relationship to not cleaning your toilet in far too long. At the end of the day, who cares? Unless a colony of roaches has moved into your house while you’ve been grinding away in the name of client service, fuck it, it is what it is.

Congratulations, you survived another year!

via GIPHY

The post The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over appeared first on Going Concern.

republished from Going Concern

#Technology #Finance

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ashleydpalmerusa · 6 years ago

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The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over

I’m a Terrible Pet Owner Regret

via GIPHY

I’m an Entire Season Behind Regret

via GIPHY

The Spores Have Set In Regret

via GIPHY

The Stranger in My Bed Regret

via GIPHY

The Text Queue Regret

via GIPHY

The Vitamin D Deficiency Regret

via GIPHY

Congratulations, you survived another year!

via GIPHY

The post The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over appeared first on Going Concern.

from Accounting News https://goingconcern.com/the-six-kinds-of-regret-youll-experience-now-that-busy-season-is-over/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=the-six-kinds-of-regret-youll-experience-now-that-busy-season-is-over

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lisarprahl · 6 years ago

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The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over

I’m a Terrible Pet Owner Regret

via GIPHY

I’m an Entire Season Behind Regret

via GIPHY

The Spores Have Set In Regret

via GIPHY

The Stranger in My Bed Regret

via GIPHY

The Text Queue Regret

via GIPHY

The Vitamin D Deficiency Regret

via GIPHY

Congratulations, you survived another year!

via GIPHY

The post The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over appeared first on Going Concern.

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lembastour · 7 years ago

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Grüsse aus Wien

Když máte volný den a nevíte coby, vyrazte třeba do Vídně! Hana se tam vypravila a vrátila se moc spoko.

(English Friendly)

Naskočte na ranní vlak, prospěte se, posnídejte v jídelním voze a až vás vlak vyplivne ve Vídni, zamiřte procházkou do centra. Třeba k oblíbenému tržišti Naschmarkt do Café Drechsler a dejte si svou první vídeňskou kávu melange. Pokud jste snídani ve vlaku přeskočili, protože Vás vzhled jídelního vozu úplně neinspiroval, tak se ani nemusíte pokoušet odolat snídaním, které na velkých tácech číšníci roznášejí ostatním hostům kavárny - vejce benedikt, vejce do skla nebo čerstvé houstičky s šunkou a máslem? Stojí to za to. Malá rada – nenechte se rozhodit, pokud je číšník trochu grumpy nebo má své tempo. Je to tak trochu součást koloritu vídeňských kaváren. Prostě jako doma!

Když se budete cítit dostatečně posilněni dopoledním občerstvením a máte rádi umčo, navštivte jednu z mnoha vídeňských galerií. Vypravte se třeba do Kunsthistorisches Museum, kde právě probíhá jistě skvělá výstava Wese Andersona, nebo do Albertiny na Moneta. Pokud vás zajímá design, tak lze doporučit Muzeum užitého umění MAK, za moderním uměním vyrazte do Muzea současného umění mumok. Já jsem se vypravila do Kunsthistorisches Museum a protože moc ráda testuju muzejní jídelny, tak jsem tam v rámci přestávky rovnou poobědvala v místní très chic restauraci. V galerii lze snadno strávit i pár hodin, takže pokud poté potřebujete provětrat, vydejte se na procházku městem. Po Vídni se moc dobře chodí a taky jezdí na kole (nebojte se vyzkoušet tamní síť Citybike a prozkoumat i jiné vídeňské čtvrti než je centrum, pokud třeba nejste ve Vídni poprvé nebo vás centrum neláká).

Mě ale centrum lákalo z jednoho konkrétního důvodu. Nebyl to obligátní Sachertorte, byl to obložený chlebíček. Vždy, když jsem ve Vídni, tak nemůžu nenavštívit vyhlášené lahůdkářství Trzesniewski na adrese Dorotheergasse 1. Tenhle legendární podnik založil začátkem minulého století Franciszek Trześniewski, polský kuchař z Krakova, a jeho specialitou byly právě chlebíčky. Tyto Brötchen jsou menší a výrazně střídmější než ty naše, na hranatých plátcích chleba a nejčastěji s rybičkovými či vajíčkovými pomazánkami. Já jsem si dala jeden s matjesovou pomazánkou a nakládanou cibulí (ŇAM) a jeden s lososovou. K chlebíčku si samozřejmě můžete dát třetinku piva či deci vína a jí se tam na stojáka. Připravte se na frontu a tlačenici, tenhle podnik je prostě top.

Pokud máte větší hlad a chuť na nějakou opravdovou klasiku, tak určitě vyzkoušejte restauraci Figlmüller, další z vídeňských stálic. Tento podnik je pro změnu nejznámější svými Schnitzel – představte si menší kola od vozu, tenoulinké a do křupava osmažené řízky. K tomu báječný bramborový salát s octovou zálivkou. A pokud nejste na řízky, tak já doporučuji Tafelspitz – dušenou hovězí špičku podávanou ve vývaru s kořenovou zeleninou. U tohoto jídla je aspoň větší šance, že porci sníte celou.

Zbytek času, který Vám ve Vídni zbývá, můžete strávit bloumáním uličkami jen tak nazdařbůh nebo si dojít na drink na rozloučenou – nabízí se Cafe Hawelka, rodinný podnik založený v r. 1938 a kdysi místo setkávání umělců a spisovatelů, či nedaleký American Bar, legendární (a nejmenší vídeňský) bar navržený architektem a umělcem Adolfem Loosem, který funguje už více jak 100 let. A pak už jen nasedněte do vlaku domů, nechte odpočívat uchozené nohy a dumejte nad tím, kdy se do Vídně vypravíte příště.

English Friendly:

If you have a free day and you don't know what to do - go to Vienna! Hana went there and came back again oh so satisfied.

Jump on the early morning train, have a nap, eat breakfast in the dining car and when the train spits you out in Vienna, head for a walk to the center. Ideally to Café Drechsler near the popular Naschmarkt market and enjoy your first Viennese melange coffee. If you missed breakfast on the train (because you didn't really trust the look of the dining car), don't even try to resist the breakfast plates distributed by the waiters here - eggs benedict, eggs in glass or fresh Semmel with ham and butter? Must have. Little advice - don't be surprised if the waiter is grumpy or he has his own pace, it seems to be part of the Viennese café culture. Just like at home!

If you feel like a champion after your heavenly breakfast and you're into art, visit one of the many Viennese galleries. Go to the Kunsthistorisches Museum to see its latest exhibition curated by Wes Anderson or to Albertina for Claude Monet. If you're into design, we recommend the MAK Applied Art Museum, or if you fancy modern art, the Mumok Museum of Contemporary Art is your place. I went to the Kunsthistorisches Museum and - because I love testing museum restaurants - I had lunch at its trés chic cafe.

You can easily spend several hours in the gallery, so if you need fresh air, take a long stroll around the city. Vienna is great for walking and even better for cycling (don't be afraid to try the local Citybike network and explore other Vienna districts than the center if you have time). I was attracted to the city center for one particular reason. It wasn't the typical Sachertorte, it was a sandwich. Every time I'm in Vienna, I MUST visit the famous Trzesniewski delicatessen at Dorotheergasse 1. This legendary company was founded by Franciszek Trześniewski, a Polish cook from Krakow, at the beginning of the 20th century, and his specialty were the open sandwiches. These Brötchen are smaller and significantly simpler than ours, on square slices of bread and most often with fish or egg spread. I took one with matjes spread and pickled onion (YUM) and one with salmon. You can, of course, have a small beer or wine with your sandwich here and eat while standing. Get ready for a long queue, this place has reputation.

If you're a bit more hungry and want a real treat, try the Figlmüller restaurant, another Viennese classic. This place is best known for its Schnitzel - imagine a veal chop as big as a wagon wheel, thinly cut and crispy fried. And a wonderful potato salad with vinegar dressing with it. If you're not into Schnitzel, I recommend Tafelspitz - stewed beef served in a broth with root vegetables (with this meal, you have a better chance of actually finishing the whole thing).

Before you need to say farewell to the city, have a goodbye drink somewhere - try Cafe Hawelka, a family-owned company founded in 1938 and a former meeting place for artists and writers, or the nearby American Bar, a legendary (and Vienna's smallest) bar designed by the architect and artist Adolf Loos that opened its door more than 100 years ago. Or just spend your time left by randomly wandering the streets. Later, on the train home, you can let your feet finally rest - and think about when you can come here again

#vienna #wien #daytrip #lembaseni #foodie

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redfoxstims · 1 month ago

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Shadowheart (Baldurs Gate 3)

🦊 / 🌸 / 🦊 / 🌸 / 🖤 / 🌸 / 🦊 / 🌸 / 🦊

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starting-with-a-mouse · 7 years ago

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Devasting beginnings, make magical endings

'Rome-Brussels-Atlanta-Orlando. Cost $1056. Would you like for us to find another itinerary?'

In less then 24 hours, she had to be in Orlando. Her head and heart pounding rhythmically to the beating concotion of infinite emotions.

‘No it’s perfect.’

While she still hadn’t grasped the surreal grandeur of the journey she was about to embark, she celebrated letting spirits and, not only, penetrate the night away.

4.30 a.m. of a warm italian summer morning thickened by her mother’s despair. She carried her luggage out the door and her dog started howling desperately: the dog knew she would be gone for more than a day, she felt it. The dog’s sadness crushed her, making her weak in the knees.

She couldn’t get herself to walk another step as the tears in her eyes made her entire body freeze to place. She walked back in to give her ginger labbie mix just one last hug and kiss, to gain that one last ounce of courage to carry on.

‘I will be gone for just one year. You won't even realize i'm gone. 365 days and we will back running on the beach together. I love you furball. I will miss you and your feline brother the most.'

That was when it sunk in, like a ball of metal dipped in a glass of water.

Believing that the hardest part was over, she picked up the luggage again and walked down the stairs, not realizing the worst had yet to come.

As dust swivered through the air breaking chaotic silence, her mother uttered no sound. They reached the airport two hours before departure only to realize the spectral emptiness of their surroundings, there was no one to be found, not even security, while the check-in clerk arrived with the same yearning of a cow in a butcher’s den. She hysterically handed over the tickets checking-in the luggage.

Her mom started crying while she hugged her and crossed the metal detector where she could finally start to breathe again.

Commotion and lack of sleep made her eyes heavy and as she closed her eyes, she was already landing in Brussels, overflowing with tourists. Endless queues of people, serpentine loops of infinite Automated envelopes of bones walking with the sole assistance of inertia. While she waited her turn for yet another security scan, she looked at her ticket only to realize there was barely an hour of layover...shit.

She zipped theough the entire airport to reach the Terminal where she was greeted by the joys of the middle seat. 'Are you seriously kidding me?!'

She had been awake for more then 48 hours and at this point all she needed was a place to sleep.

No can do. her flight inmates? An extremely loquacious Hindi who held the world record of words per second and a 350 pound man whose nervous twitches made him strap himself in.

In Atlanta, her fate with impossible layovers didn’t budge and while the immigration officer suspiciously checked her visa, desperation catalyzed by wariness took over, ‘Please officer i need to catch a flight...' She interupted her with an evil grin and hysterically declared 'i've never seen this type of visa i need to check with my supervisor.'

'Of course because if i was to fake a visa i would completely create a visa that doesn't even exist!'

Fortunately the supervisor arrived, looked at the visa. He looked at the officer and said 'she's clear, the visa's fine. Let her go'

Her desire to shout ‘see ya bitch!’ Was never going to win over fate.

She recovered her luggage and passed security where she rapidly handed over the lighters she had forgotten in her purse, ironically she doesn’t even smoke. She reached the terminal gasping for air, realizing the friendly check-in clerk back in rome placed her on the wrong flight. In lack of oxygen, thristy and sweating, her phone gasped for credit, Payphones only accepted dollars, her debit card empty, her only currency euros. She asked a couple of people if she could make a quick call to warn the bus that had to pick her up that she would be on the flight after. They all magically had dead batteries.

She asked the information post where she could change euros: two terminals down. She ran for it.

Once again queues. She managed to change money and ran back to the gate but they were already boarding and there was no time to reach the payphone.

Desperate and exhausted she dropped defeated on her seat.

Maybe life was magically gaining up on her and as she lost it all: the kind man in the seat next to her asked what was wrong. Crying and sobbing she described the nightmare she had been through. Without saying a word, He handed over his phone.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and said 'you had a long day, take a nap and relax. I will wake you up when we get there.'

She finally smiled and relaxed for the first time.

Not all heroes wear capes.

Her apartment was in the last building of the complex, apartment 2814 where she was greeted

By the Japanese roommate, Eiko, trying one of her culinary coctions that seemed fried burned and used gym shoes.

Uttering random syllables, she plunged on her bed.

‘Lavinia.

Italy.

Pleasure.’

While she thought she could finally take a break, her mother called sobbbng begging her to come back while her brother and sister jealously called saying that they would not take care of mom and that it was her responsibility.

She clenched to the last spectacles of force left in her body.

‘This is my time. My year, don’t you dare take this from me!’

She avoided the numerous calls after that, hoping, praying and begging that the saying 'if good beginnings make good endings...' wasn’t true.

Mr. Sandman brought a dream, as no night is endless and the sun rose on the start of the most memorable and spectacular year of her life.

#disney #magic #spectacular #starting over

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