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misiwrites · 3 years

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Beyblade Week Day 4

i'm sorry i'm out here still posting things so late but here's my fourth and final 4kingdoms-verse oneshot for @beybladeweek2021, mostly this is late because i was out of town last week but these prompts were also the hardest to make a oneshot about, somehow i managed to make a quirky little story about max anyway.

this takes place probably somewhere right before the beginning of the main fic, or close to it anyways. and i feel like this needs the small explanation that 4kingdoms max looks a bit different because the north has no sunlight (don’t ask me how that works. it’s fantasy)

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Fears / Animals / Winter

“Aaugh!”

As patient as Max is, the strange sound of Giancarlo’s sudden scream followed by a soft, barely audible thump of something hitting the floor in the walk-in closet is enough to snap his attention from the game console in his hands. He casts a curious look across his bedroom to witness the striped leg of a plush toy sticking out through the narrow crack of the closet door.

Now he can already tell what has happened. Regardless, he drops the game on the couch and jumps to his feet to see what his knight has gotten himself into in the closet.

“You opened the forbidden door!” Max gloats at Giancarlo, now standing ankle-deep in a sea of plush toys. “I told you the games are in the second from left, not from right.”

“Is this why you call that door ‘forbidden’?” Giancarlo asks, one hand still on the handle of the closet door that the avalanche of toys descended on him from. “I expected something more... I don’t know... scandalous... or personal.”

“This is personal. They’re all mine.” Max crouches over to pick one of the plush toys up, the yellow mascot character of a popular Eastern children’s game franchise. “Oh man, these take me back. I haven’t really seen them since Mama ordered them to be put away. She said I was too old to keep them in my bed. But I refused to have them taken out, so I got this closet for them instead.”

“Aha. I don’t mean to judge your decisions, but I think there’s a few too many for a closet of this size.”

“Well, they fit in just fine before you opened the door like an idiot.”

Max lets his eyes scan the colourful blast on the floor, admiring the chaos of all the scattered shapes of different stuffed creatures, some more nostalgic than others but each and every one so familiar to him; some expensive and store-bought, some hand-made by his father or someone else, he hardly even remembers at this point; it’s been so long since he was gifted these toys, and at least a couple of years since Judy wanted them sealed away.

And then one of them catches his eye over the rest, one that makes his heart skip a beat of bittersweet joy and longing. He tramples and kicks his way past other toys to get to the middle.

It’s a plush dog, one whose tattered, worn-out shape isn’t particularly distinguishable as a dog. It has an elongated body and small stubs for legs, folded ears – well, one ear, as the other has come off and been lost to time – and a small, thin tail that’s also on its way to come off its stitches but is barely hanging on, miserably drooping down from the back of the caramel brown animal that’s so thoroughly covered in dirt and dust that it looks grey. The dog’s black button eyes are intact, at least, and it still has a red little tongue sticking out of its mouth.

Max is momentarily frozen in place staring at the dog. This toy brings back so many memories, some of which threaten to turn his stomach as the long-forgotten anxiety rushes back in one tidal wave, it climbs up the ladder of his spine like an unwelcome visitor from the past; but at the same time, he loves this little dog so very dearly, his childhood favourite.

“Look at these, Your Highness!” Giancarlo suddenly yells, snapping Max out of his thoughts. “Really fitting, aren’t they? Doesn’t it make you think of something?”

Max turns to see his knight holding three plush animals on his arms: a snake, a fox, and a miniature horse. Max does remember all of them, but none were his favourites. They must have been gifts from his earlier childhood, he has no memory of actually getting them or ever feeling particularly attached to them.

“Umm,” he says, “no, not really.”

“Don’t you remember? The fairytale? A guy talks to a fox, a serpent, and a horse...”

“No, can’t say that rings any bells.”

“Really?” An idiotic grin spreads on Giancarlo’s face, the same one he flashes every time he gets to feel smarter than his young king. “It’s a traditional Northern folktale! Each animal represents one fear that the dude has, and he has to face them one by one. Well, I don’t really remember the details, but it was something like that.” He lifts the tiny horse closer to his face, as if to study it more closely – or to face it, to stay true to his own words, Max assumes. “Was the third one really a horse? I think it was. I guess horses can be scary to some people. They’re big animals and all.”

Max rolls his eyes, truly wishing that Giancarlo would shut up for once and clean up the mess he’s caused in the walk-in closet – or just do anything else and leave Max be, to sort out the sudden, fairly uncomfortable onslaught of memories caused by the discovery of his old stuffed dog toy.

Instead, Giancarlo keeps talking, as he always does.

“If there was a story about my fears, it would probably be... hmm... never eating cannoli ever again... and never going on another date...”

“Some incredible fears you have,” Max comments. “Tells a lot about your psyche.”

“And what are you scared of, Your Highness? What would you face if you met this guy? Nei-i-i-igh.” Giancarlo waves the tiny horse at Max, truthfully not the embodiment of terror by any stretch.

“Me? Well, nothing, really.”

“Come on, now, no need to be shy. You can tell the good old Gianni.”

“I mean it – I have my magic, so there’s no reason for me to be scared of anything.” There’s nothing that Max can think of that he wouldn’t be able to shield himself from with his magic powers, especially his ability to turn invisible. If nothing can catch him or do as much as touch him, what reason would he have to be afraid? If anything, he loves the thrill of almost being caught but disappearing out of sight on the last second. Max prides himself in being bold and resourceful, the master of stealth, and the youngest Genbu-ou with the ability to summon the holy beast of Genbu in the known history of his kingdom.

As long as he has his magic and the golden locket of Genbu around his neck, he cannot think of anything that could cause him fear; and as the king, he can have all the materia he could ever want, so he never needs to worry about running out of cannoli pastries or whatever else.

“Okay then, tough guy,” Giancarlo snorts. “And what’s that you got there?”

Max’s gaze returns to the dog on his arms. It stares back at him with its pitiful button eyes, black and lifeless.

“This used to be my favourite,” he replies, finding the words coming out of his mouth with slight hesitation. “Papa made it for me...”

“Oh? Prince Tarou knows how to sew stuffed animals? Well, I guess that makes sense, since he’s such a talented craftsman – but still... It’s hard to imagine a burly man like him making something like... that thing.” Giancarlo forces down an obvious cackle, raising a hand to his mouth to hide his amusement. “I mean...”

Max knows what he means, the puppy with a hot dog-like physique is a pathetic sight, but he cannot help feeling just a little insulted by Giancarlo laughing at it. This puppy brought him so much comfort during a time of turmoil, and it was specifically made by his father for that very purpose. Tarou most likely stitched it together over a single night all those years ago.

“You mean what?” he challenges the royal knight, his tone arrogant.

“Uh... Well, you know... Oh, never mind.”

* * * * * *

When he was younger, Max had no objections over his sheltered life in the Snow Glory Palace, as it never even occurred to his child’s mind that it could be anything but; and the thought only came to him as he entered the rebellious years of puberty and by the questionable ideas that his whimsical knight planted in his head, the thought that it would be exciting to sneak out of the palace every once in a while and wander around the royal capital out of sight.

Max has always been adored by commoners, as the only son of their beloved (by now former) king, the strong yet beautiful and hauntingly intelligent Mizuhara Judy, the only female Genbu-ou of their lifetime; and as much as Max loves the attention and savours the constant awareness of his status of importance that doesn’t escape anybody in his kingdom, he’s equally entertained by the idea of walking among all these people on a lower social ladder without their knowledge, freely entering spaces where his appearance would normally cause a considerable brouhaha. The complete control over whether he’s perceived or not gives him a great amount of satisfaction.

And, most importantly, his ever-so-predominant mother has no idea about it happening right under her nose. As much as Max loves his parents, like any teenager, he has an innate need to break free and seek independence from them, do as he pleases without their scrutiny, without any adult paying attention to him...

at least sometimes.

How many times has he traversed the narrow streets of the ancient royal capital, heard the snow crunch under his shoes without anyone seeing it’s the young king leaving a trail of footprints on the ground covered in white? And when the snow is quietly falling from the sky, the shield of magic around him reflects his surroundings, camouflaging him from other people’s line of sight, he blends perfectly into the arbitrary dance of the snowflakes in the dark.

Then, sometimes, when he finds a suitable corner or shade or hideout for himself, he plans a delicious little display of seemingly appearing out of nowhere into the spotlight. And all the attention is once again drawn to him.

It’s borderline addicting, that calculated spectacle, the thrill of a surprise and act of rebellion that Max is perfectly aware he’s not allowed to do. That his ice queen of a mother would be absolutely furious if she knew.

Now he’s again walking down a cobblestone street, the stone fence of a cemetery on his right-hand side. There’s a layer of powdery snow on the stone, like the icing of a sugar cake.

A cake, oh, a cake sounds excellent to him; and he’s now across a bridge, and the familiar sight of a cosy little coffee shop greets him some feet away. It has a sign outside, a metallic one, shaped like a kettle that’s hanging above the entrance, the shop’s name written on it in cursive.

Max walks over to one of the shop windows and takes a peek inside, bathes in the golden light coming from the other side of the glass. As expected, nobody pays him any attention, none of the people sitting around the lovely little tables inside see him.

He’s ready to be seen, however, and decides to step inside, greeted by the ring of a bell attached to the coffee shop’s door.

“Good evening!” he says cheerfully upon his entrance, flashing a wide grin to everyone in the shop.

People turn to stare at him. Nobody is smiling back at him.

“Er, good evening,” replies the person working behind the counter. Their voice is polite but wary, they stare at Max like everyone else in the shop, with an expression of wide-eyed confusion.

This is not what Max expected. Where are all the delightful gasps, all the “Oh, Your Highness!” and “It’s the young king!” and “This is such an honour!” – all the surprised smiles and the rush to be the first to shake hands with him? He darts some quizzical glances around the shop, eyebrows raised, but his grin remains.

Maybe he’s come here a few too many times. He should have gone somewhere new instead, not the closest place he could think of.

A bristly feeling that he’s very much not used to suddenly spreads all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes: embarrassment. He’s embarrassed that his magic trick failed, the trick he was so confident in, so proud of.

He needs to get out of here.

And the next moment, he’s walking down a different street, this time in the heart of the city of Resting Palace. The lights here are so bright that they illuminate the black sky and give it a hue of light purple instead, almost a dirty tone, it looks dusty and devours the stars and even the Moon.

He’s walking past numerous people, but nobody turns to look at him. Nobody does as much as grant him a smile of acknowledgment, no faces light up with recognition when he passes by.

He stops to stand in the middle of the street. Someone immediately bumps into him from behind.

“Oh, sorry,” the stranger says and hurries away without looking at him. He doesn’t even have the time to say it was his fault for stopping so abruptly.

Max turns on his heels, lets his eyes wander aimlessly in the scenery. There’s a hotel to his left. There are people everywhere, but none of them are looking his way.

Now another person bumps into him. This is an older man, staggering on his feet and visibly losing his balance for a moment, and he turns to stare at Max with a sullen face.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man groans, “stop blocking the walkway, will ya?”

Max only stares back, not knowing what to say or think. Kiddo? What is this? Why is this person talking to him like this? He’s so dumbfounded by this behaviour that he simply hangs his mouth open without making a sound. Nobody in his entire life has acted this way towards him, and it’s making his blood run cold under his heavy cloak.

On a bewildered whim, he suddenly turns to whoever is passing by his left-hand side on that very moment. “Did you hear how that person talked to me just now?” he asks the passer-by. “How dare he?”

The person he’s talking to casts him a look of utter confusion. He can immediately tell this person doesn’t recognise him, either.

“No, I’m sorry,” the person mumbles hastily and hurries away. Max stares after their disappearing back.

What is happening? What is happening? How could this possibly be happening to him? Now panic is seeping into his heart, he arbitrarily grabs the sleeve of whoever happens to pass by him next.

“Excuse me,” he says breathlessly, “you know who I am, right? Right?”

Another astonished stare, but at least this passer-by is polite. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. Are you perhaps lost?”

“No!” Max’s words now escape as a desperate eruption of discomfort, “I’m the king! The Genbu-ou! Don’t you recognise your king?!”

The stranger’s expression changes slightly – to that of pity, to Max’s horror.

“I’m sorry, boy, I don’t have time to play around with you,” the person says, and the next moment he’s gone.

Max spins around, glancing wildly in every direction, looking for anybody who recognises him. This is the royal capital, isn’t it? It definitely is, he knows the exact street he’s on, but for some reason nobody knows him, he’s only a mile away from the Snow Glory Palace and nobody knows that he’s the king, how could such a bizarre thing ever happen?

“I look like the Genbu-ou, don’t I?” he asks yet another stranger, this time a younger person, a teenager just like him.

The person stops to stare at him, evaluates him with her eyes for a moment, as if she has to think about it first.

“I guess you do,” she finally says, “a little. But Genbu-ousama has spots of black in his hair and skin as clear as snow.”

What? What?

Max drops down to his knees into the snow and now he’s on the riverbank; he hauls his shaking self closer to the aquamarine glow of the water, and he crouches over to look down at his own reflection on the surface.

His hair is yellow like the Sun, bare, the splashes of black brush strokes gone. But his face – his face is covered in something – small dots everywhere, his skin is infested with them, they spread from the centre, the bridge of his nose, in every direction on his skin, he lifts his hands to his face and—

* * *

He opens his eyes. The ceiling of his bedroom is covered in cotton candy clouds of pink and purple, they rotate ever so slowly around the axel of the chandelier in the middle, with stars blinking in and out through the veil.

He rolls over in the four-poster bed that feels like an entire ocean to him. The pillow under his head is wet, it feels gross and he grabs it with two tiny hands, tosses it away as hard as he can and it lands on the edge of the bed. It knocks a couple of his plush toys to the floor.

He can hear voices from behind the bedroom door. It’s Mama and Papa, they are yelling at each other again.

Max rubs his tear-stained eyes and crawls out of bed, wrapping his enormous blanket around him like a cape, he drags it along across the carpet as he makes his way to the door. He stands on tiptoes and opens the door as softly as he can.

He makes his way to the hallway’s railing just in time to see his parents walk into his view downstairs. They’re not yelling anymore but still arguing, in quiet voices now, Max can tell they are spewing arrows of poison at each other even if he can’t make out the words.

He’s staring through the narrow hole in the railing as Papa spots him, it’s probably a subtle sniffle that gives him away up there.

Seconds later, Papa has climbed the stairs and has knelt down to talk to Max in a voice that’s meant to be soothing but is seeping with recently suffocated agitation, and it makes him uneasy.

“Are you having trouble sleeping again, buddy?”

“I don’t want Papa to go away,” Max says, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his orange sleeping gown.

Papa gives him a lopsided smile, pats the top of his head. “I’ll come visit you often, I promise. And – this is only temporary, okay? I will keep talking to Mama, and maybe I’ll be back home in a couple of moons. Papa will bring you lots of presents then, but for starters...”

Now something appears from behind Papa’s back, he’s holding a plush toy dog that has a silly face with a tongue drooping out, its body so long that it nearly matches Max’s height. Papa hands it over to him.

“I made this for you, to help you sleep better. I call it Sleepy, but you can call it whatever you want.”

Max stares down at the dog’s face. It has plain black buttons for eyes, and a third one for a nose.

He presses his own little nose against the button, immediately smearing the dog in the snot and tears of a six-year-old.

“Take me with you, Papa,” he says, the words muffled against the dog’s snout. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“You won’t be alone, Max, Mama will be here.”

“She’s always working, she never pays attention to me.”

“That’s not true...”

“I don’t want to be alone, Papa.”

* * *

He opens his eyes. The ceiling of his bedroom is velvet blue, with the silver sickle of a crescent Moon glowing faintly in the night’s silence.

His heart is beating in an anxious rhythm inside his chest. He quickly sits up in the bed, driven by the panic of the lingering terror of his nightmare that makes his fingertips tingle and his stomach turn, and he gasps for air.

It was just a dream. Just a dream.

The momentary urge to rush to his feet, to check that he actually is who he’s supposed to be in the mirror, recedes quickly upon the realisation that he’s in his own bed, in the royal palace, exactly where he should be. He’s covered in sweat, the blankets feel uncomfortably sticky against his skin, he tosses them aside.

Then he notices three shapes in the darkness, sitting at the end of his bed. A row of three plush animals is staring at him from a distance.

A fox, a serpent, and a horse.

#my writing #4kingdoms stuff #LetItRip2021 #iconic that i had to stop in the middle of posting this bc i saw a spider and was too fucking scared to sit down again

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whumpy-tales-and-thoughts · 4 years

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I am yet to read your stuff but could I request 'Be Careful What You Wish For' and 'Carved Mark' from your BTHB card? :D

Okay this is quite a bit into the story but I’m not planning on writing it chronologically so here we are! Thank you so much for the request!! <3

TW: captivity, knives, blood, burns.

It was an especially bad day for Leo. He watched the sunrise through the window on the opposite wall. Every day, cuffed to the wall, he’d either wake up to it or waiting for it, when he couldn’t sleep. It was his only contact with the outside world in -ah, he didn’t know how long. He dreaded the day that was starting. Marcus’ birthday. He’d been teasing that something big would happen, for days now, so when the metal door opened, hours later, the younger man could only hold his breath in anticipation of what the other would do.

Marcus entered the room with a big, innocent smile, one that would look silly on a man of his build, if Leo didn’t already know what he was like. He was like a small child, this 6’2 man that could make Leo disappear in one mood swing. “Good morning, love! Today is such a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Sure”, Leo sighed, trying to calm his terrified thoughts.

“Let’s get you off these, shall we”, Marcus said to himself, unlocking the cuffs, allowing Leo to fall onto him for a couple of seconds, until he regained his balance. He may have been used to this by now, but that didn’t make it any easier. His arms were in more pain every day.

“Today is my birthday, you know”, said the man while the both of them were walking down a hallway and then some stairs to reach the basement.

“I know, you didn’t really shut up about it”, said Leo, although the second part of the sentence he chewed up.

“You’re, y’ know, kind of obligated to do what I say today. But I’ll let that slide, because I want you to see the present I’ve prepared”.

“You made yourself a present? That’s kinda sad, Marcus”.

“I’ve only thought of the idea,” he said, “you’ll be the one to execute it, babe”.

Dread appeared in the form of cold sweat over his body when Leo heard that, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Involuntarily, he slowed his pace, but Marcus gave him a dangerous look. That was enough to get his speed back up. “What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, you’ll see in a moment”, Marcus said and patted the shorter’s hair gently. He opened the door to the basement and half turned his body towards Leo. “I’m going inside to prepare it. Do not. Move.”

He needn’t say anything more. Despite the thoughts running wild inside his head, he knew he couldn’t try running away. The doors would be locked, same with the windows, and this was a lake house, he’d likely not see any roads or other people for miles. Leo had given up on escaping after the failed attempt, which’s consequences still made his body hurt. He could feel his breaths getting shaky, could feel his legs twitching, beginning to tremble, but he tried to stay still. He tried to calm himself. He didn’t know what was behind the door. It was the first time Marcus had led him this far from his room, and he didn’t think anything good could have come out of that.

The door handle creaked, yanking him out of his thoughts -for the better, probably, because they were only causing him panic.

“Come inside, sweety, here”. Taking his hand, Marcus led him to the interior, which was mostly empty, save from the metal chair in the middle of it, a small table with wheels, and a hanging light bulb. He chose not to look on what was on top of the table. The setting was ominous enough already.

“There’s usually more stuff in basements. Isn’t yours way too empty for a rich man?” he tried to joke, to keep up appearances, but as Marcus was pushing him down, tying his limbs to the arms and legs of the chair, he couldn’t help his trembling body. “What are you going to do”, he asked again, still refusing to look at the tabletop.

“Well, A, nobody has used this place before us so there’s not much stuff around and B, I’m going to make you my birthday present!”

“W-what do you mean…”

“A birthday present should be something that can stay with you forever, something you can look at and remember the day it was gifted, right? So then, what better a gift than something on you, who’ll stay with me forever, than a… tattoo, of sorts?”

Leo inhaled. A tattoo? I’ve had more of those, they don’t even hurt, where’s the need for him to tie-

The agonizing pain cut off even his trail of thought. Without warning, without preparation, Marcus had begun slicing the skin on his exposed right arm with a small carving knife. Leo bit down on his cheek until he could taste blood. He tried to hold back his scream, but with every passing second, the knife went deeper inside his arm. Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god, I can’t, I can’t do this… make it stop!

“Aaugh!”

His nails clawed to the chair’s arms, his feet were outstretched, his mouth was bleeding from the inside and he was downright screaming, hot tears feeling cold against his burning cheeks.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby! You have to do anything for me today, remember?”

“Fuck you!” Leo screeched, immediately feeling the knife plunge deeper into his skin.

“Oops, that was an accident.” Marcus’ voice was stern again. He probably wasn’t too happy with Leo cursing at him.

Leo didn’t know how much time had passed, but he could count the letters. In the beginning, at least. There were small, seconds-long breaks Marcus took between each letter to clean the blade -and then that hellish pain would start again. But Leo couldn’t keep count after a while. After the fifth letter, his voice broke, his throat too sore, too tired to give him any other means to complain. Soon after that, he stopped moving -not that he could move much at all, either way. He stopped struggling. He hung his head and prayed for unconsciousness, but his wish was never granted. Each time his body was ready to give up, a new pain was added, and it jolted him awake again.

“There we go. Look at how much better drawn the letters are now that you’ve calmed down”.

By the time Marcus was done, Leo was but a shell of a human. His cheeks wet with tears, the entirety of his body soaked with sweat, dyed blue hair stuck in strands on his forehead, eyes half closed, shallow breathing. Marcus didn’t bother checking on him. He knew there was still one more step to completing his piece.

He used a long lighter to warm the knife’s blade enough for its heat to seal the wounds, and gently pressed it on each of the letters, warming it anew each time. Leo did open his mouth to scream, but nothing more than a grunt and a soft “please” could come out of it. The only indicator of his consciousness were his tears, flowing non stop on his cheeks, falling on his sleeveless shirt.

Once he was done, Marcus cleaned the blood off Leo’s arm, untied him and picked him up, ever so gently. He carried him to his room, to his bed. He didn’t cuff him, knowing that would put too much strain on the younger man. “Get up, love. Don’t you want to see? It’s quite beautiful”.

Leo’s eyes were covered by his fringe, his mouth half open. “Leave me be, please…”

“Come on, get up”, Marcus demanded, without sugarcoating his tone, and moved to touch him.

Leo managed to react, slapping Marcus’ hand away with the arm he could move. He used the same arm to push himself up, however little he could. He enjoyed the surprised expression on the older’s face, he couldn’t lie to himself about that. “Get out. Leave me alone. Fuck off. How do I need to say it for you to understand?” his voice was hoarse and small, and some vowels weren’t audible, but he certainly got his point across.

Marcus wore a raged expression. He stood up, grabbed Leo by his wrists and cuffed him back on the wall, slamming him against it. “Alright then, love, but remember: you wished for this, you demanded this. You’re in no position to make demands but, I’ll just have to teach you that the hard way. You want alone time? Sure. Get it, then. Just don’t cry to me when I return to you -if, I return to you”.

With those sharp words as his last ones, Marcus turned his back on Leo and closed the door loudly, locking it. The click of the key echoed through the room. It would take many days for Leo to hear that clicking sound again.

#whump #knife tw #burn tw #captivity tw #intimate whumper #My writing #leo and marcus

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namjinsanswer · 6 years

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youtube

The Try Guys Crash Test A New Roller Coaster

they all dressed up in suits to ride the rollercoaster. snazzy bois.

they’re at Knott’s Berry Farm ... cries in berry boys

they’ll be riding the steepest and the first and only dive rollercoaster in california ... “HANGTIME.” 150 ft tall, 5 inversions, 57 mph, and a 96 degree drop

Keith rolls out the first “berry” pun @ 0:52

Ned: “today, it’s daddy’s big day out.”

Zach hated and avoided rollercoasters all his life until beautiful Keith forced him to ride one 2 years ago. now he’s addicted.

Eugene admits he has an irrational fear of rollercoasters

Eugene: “it’s one of those rare moments when the other try guys go ‘hey, Eugene’s the loser right now’.”

Keith is normally a scaredy cat but feels comfortable in physics’ never-failing hands

Eugene is not scared, just irrationally concerned

Zach’s goal for today is to get a fucking hawt pic while on the rollercoaster. i love my zaddy

RIDE 1

Ned and Zach on the ends, Keith and Eugene in the middle

everyone’s freaking out

Eugene glares in ‘i told you fuckers so’

Ned just wants to be with his baby

cut to Eugene monologuing over his fear of things he doesn’t have control over, Ned holds up a ‘good grief!’ thought bubble

back to the coaster, they’re all preparing for the worst during the vertical lift

the ride pauses just before the 96 degree drop.

Eugene is screaming in terror

FUCKIGN KEITH HIS FACE IM CRYNIG WAHHHHH

Zach is cursing

Ned regrets this decision

and THEN ... it DROPS

they’re all screaming. Keith’s tie and Eugene’s hair are flying

Keith is undergoing some kind of exorcism now

Eugene is praying to Jesus

Ned and Zach are having the time of their lives

Eugene continues to scream as the rollercoaster slows down

Ned is crying

‘THAT WAS SCARY” COUNT: 11

the doctor doesn’t know what would happen to someone if they rode a rollercoaster 10 times in a row. she predicts she’ll have to call the emts

Zach is excited to partake in this new scientific investigation

Eugene got Zach ready for his bar mitzvah with the vomit bag

by ride 3 Zach and Eugene have their hands in the air. Keith and Ned don’t look too good

Zach doesn’t know how much more his little heart can take. adorable

by ride 4 Eugene cherishes that 96 degree drop

Eugene’s motto: “the front gets the view, but the back gets the action.”

Zach had to poop before getting on the ride, now he doesn’t have to. concerning.

after ride 5, Ned is close to vomiting/can’t stop burping, Keith’s had enough, Zach is dead on Gene’s shoulder, and Eugene is just laughing

Keith feels drunk

Ned is getting his blood pressure taken

Eugene wants to go again. i think someone is starting to like rollercoasters...

Eugene goes on ride 6 all by himself, wishes his friends were with him, declares himself the master of hangtime

Korndaddy got the sexiest rollercoaster pic ever

after riding hangtime 6 times, Eugene has gone from ‘good grief!’ to ‘AAUGH!’

them at the end: I LOVE FOUR (4) IDIOTS

#the try guys #ned fulmer #keith habersberger #zach kornfeld #eugene lee yang #the try guys crash test a new roller coaster #these just keep getting longer and longer wow

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trifoliate-undergrowth · 7 years

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Crisco 129: A Dystopian Sansby Dream AU-pt 5

Grillbz appeared to take a moment to process the change of scenery. Slowly he looked up. “Wh…??” “I can teleport.” “You can..?” “Teleport. Space-shift. Jump travel. You know, the thing. That thing you do where you don’t need stairs.” Grillbz stared at him. “How long have you been able to do that?” “Since I was a kid. Dad made sure nobody but him knew about it. Heheh, I’d be in trouble if anyone did… find out… yeah.” Grillbz smiled. “I already said you can trust me. No one else will know, not if they freeze me to death for it.”

“Yeah thanks.” Those were words. Words were easy. But he’d always been able to trust Grillbz. He wanted to believe that he still could. And anyway, no going back now. “Where are we?” “You know that shaft that leads to the old wine cellar?” A look of sparking realization appeared on Grillbz’ face. “But it’s been boarded up for years. And there’s no ladder.” “Lucky I can teleport. Double-lucky, because the top of the shaft looks like it hasn’t been opened in years, which it actually hasn’t. So if someone does find it hopefully they won’t look too far, or it won’t implicate any of us too heavily even if they do find my stuff.” Sans’ equipment was set up behind a stack of empty crates in the farthest corner from the disused shaft that led into the restaurant’s storage room. “Won’t implicate us too heavily?” “Well I mean if anyone does come all the way down here the gig is up but I’m hoping that doesn’t happen.” Grillbz stepped away from Sans and walked carefully around the mini-room that he’d made of crates. “I stacked them so they don’t look too suspicious from the outside and I haven’t been out there since, so the dust is all undisturbed out there,” said Sans. “It should look completely abandoned from the outside.” “This isn’t safe.” “Eh, nothing is safe really.” Grillbz stopped abruptly and looked at him. He started to say something, paused, shifted his weight and looked down at the floor. “What?” Asked Sans. Grillbz looked back up. “I don’t.. w… It’s not safe.” An icy calm settled over Sans. This was a fitting end. “Are you trying to tell me something?” “Wh… I’m, I’m telling you that it’s dangerous, and…” he looked at Sans. “Sans no!! What—why would I betray you?! I just—I want you to be safe…What do you think I am?” “I don’t know, actually.” “I’m a coward. I just want to live, that’s all. And I want you to be safe. When it’s some disembodied voice on the radio, someone you don’t know, you feel like they can never be hurt, somehow, and... but it's you. I know you. I.. want to say I’m proud of you but I’m just terrified. No, I am proud of you. And scared. I don’t know…” “I’m careful, believe me. I don’t broadcast from here, I send the data to my contact, and she has her own setup for broadcasting. She hasn’t told me the details but she says it’s secure. And she seems pretty sharp, so I trust her not to get caught. As long as she doesn’t I don’t think anyone will come here.” Grillbz nodded vacantly. “What is that?” “A computer.” Grillbz looked blankly at it. “Built it myself and it’s crap, but it works, and that’s enough. It runs on that generator there.” Grillbz glanced at the generator with something more akin to recognition, then did a doubletake. He stooped and hooked a bottle out from under the table with one finger. “It runs on moonshine?” “Yep.” Grillbz looked at Sans and cracked a smile. “Heh…. Thank God, I was worried you were an alcoholic.” “Ah, so you did notice—“ “I knew it had to be you taking it, I just didn’t know what you were doing with it.” “Ah geez.” “But you seemed fine, and I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.” he tapped his fingers on the bottle and chuckled. “You actually built a generator to run on moonshine.” “Actually, no, I bought this from someone whose identity will remain undisclosed. Though at this point I might as well have built it myself with all the repairs I’ve been doing.” “You can buy moonshine generators?” “Well, what else are we gonna run them on? There is an underground, you know.” “Yes, I’m well aware, since we sell massive amounts of—“ he froze. “Sans.” “Heh?” “Is that it? I’ve always wondered where it all goes to. There are either a lot of invisible alcoholics in this town or people are using it to run generators.” “Yep.” “…I’ve been a party to illegal activity all along.” “In more than one way.” Grillbz gave a ragged laugh and put the bottle down. “Can we go? I’m… still getting used to this.” “Not yet, this is the safest place in the house to talk, I think. How did you know about the broadcast?” “Found it. There’s not much on the radio anymore, it wasn’t hard.” “So you were just… searching radio stations, listening to static?” Grillbz nodded. “Static is a sign that there’s something out there. Sometimes I’d hear scratches of music that couldn’t quite get through. And then one morning there was suddenly music coming through loud and clear, and I had to turn the volume down because I was afraid someone would hear it. I don’t remember what it was. I think I was too happy to notice. And then your broadcast came on.” Grillbz snorted. “I’d never been that happy to hear puns. The next day I checked to see if it would happen again, I thought it had to have been some kind of fluke, but it did. That time it was piano music. Beautiful.” He half-smiled. “You like piano music?” Grillbz nodded. “My sister used to play, once. I’d plink on the keys sometimes, trying to figure out a tune.” He covered his face with his hands. “I can… almost see her.” He looked down at Sans, flames swirling slowly. Good God, he was beautiful. Sans stared up at him, willing himself to speak but strangely unable to think of anything appropriate. Useless phrases flickered and died in his head: I’m sorry, are you OK, I love you, who are you, talk to me, kiss me. He gave up: he’d place all his trust here, he’d done it before and never been let down. If Grillbz wanted to betray him Sans wouldn’t even fight. He’d go with a smile, because they’d had this moment and it seemed only reasonable that it would end. It couldn’t be real. “Sans?” said Grillbz. “Huh.” Grillbz frowned. “Is there something I can do to convince you?” “What?” “I want you to trust me.” “You don’t have to convince me. I should have told you years ago.” Sans walked forward, took his hand and kissed it. The room grew a little brighter. Sans looked down at the hand still cradled in his. Magic and light danced across his fingers. He kissed Grillbz’ hand again, then his wrist, then his arm, and Grillbz wrapped the arm around him and pulled him close. He nuzzled into the front of Grillbz’ vest and laced his fingers around his belt. Grillbz folded the other arm across his back, a warm weight. Sans sighed. They stood like that for several moments. “We should go,” said Grillbz finally, “Or we won’t have time for breakfast.” “Mm.” Sans released one hand from its grip and snapped his fingers, teleporting them at the same instant. They appeared in the kitchen. Grillbz only tensed a little bit this time. “Nice.” “Yeah, it’s pretty nifty.” “Yes… hmmph.” He chuckled as he bustled around the kitchen. “What?” “Moonshine. All this time I was taking pride in my work, making something edible out of completely shit unwanted grain rations, and nobody actually ingests it anyway.” “Eh I wouldn’t say nobody. Just… the bulk of it may find other uses.” “All of my work has been for naught.” “I like it.” “Don’t you start now, I’m still getting over the alcoholism scare.” “C’mon, me? Where do you think I’d fit that in my schedule?” Said Sans, pressing up beside him as he fidgeted with the griddle. Grillbz looked down at him, then smiled. Sans smiled back. “Hey, are you thinking about what I—“ Grillbz leaned down and kissed him briskly on the edge of the mouth, then walked away. Sans teleported onto the counter directly in front of him. “One of these days you need to do that and not run away afterward.” “AAUGH! ..Please don’t do that.”

Several days passed more or less normally, except for a strange light that seemed to charge everything around Sans. Between running the restaurant, checking the mash in the shed in their backyard and getting some amount of sleep before the broadcast, he didn’t have much free time, and life stayed confined to its set patterns—except that sometimes Grillbz would rest his hand on Sans’ head or shoulder as he passed, and their nightly conversations were getting longer, despite the need for sleep. Sans looked forward to Saturday, when they closed early—it was a café, not a bar (legally).

>do you have any piano music we could play?

He asked the old lady.

>Piano music? Yes, I believe so. I’ll check. Why? I didn’t think you had preferences.

>it’s for a friend.

>Aaah. Is it ‘that’ friend?

>the one we talked about? yeah.

>So how are things going?

>pretty good. I told him.

>About?

>the broadcast. he’d already figured it out, actually, from my voice. evidently it’s not as hard to identify as I’d hoped, heh. though he says it’s only because he knows me well.

>Well. If he already knew and hasn’t done anything I think we can trust him.

>one would hope. I don’t have a choice now. and I’m glad that he knows, anyway. I like him a lot and it’s nice not to have secrets.

>Good. Just let him know that if I ever get a sniff of something not right in any respect whatsoever on your end I’m coming over there with a frying pan.

>haha thanks.

>I mean it. He better treat you well.

>he always does.

>Mhm. Play the music.

>all systems go, captain.

>So tell me, what’s your honey like? I want to know.

Sans stared at the screen, then laughed. He couldn’t tell any important details—they had agreed not to, it was safer. He didn’t know the old lady’s name or race, and she didn’t know his. But they had discovered little things about each other, such as that she liked to bake whenever she got the chance and he was short.

>mmmmm. physically, he’s taller than me, dresses sharp and is very warm.

>From all the jokes you’ve made about your height I would expect that many people are taller than you.

>well yeah. but not everyone pulls it off with style.

>I see. ‘Warm?’

>warm. like a fireplace. a very attractive fireplace.

>…I see?

>yep. and he’s quiet, usually. he can talk if he wants to, but generally doesn’t. neat and orderly, but patient with er, less-neat people. gentle, I’ve only seen him get angry once. sort of casually graceful in the way he moves. he just. aaaagh. he’s gorgeous.

>He sounds lovely.

>aaaaaaaaaa.

>Is your broadcast just going to be lovestruck screeching today?

>aaaaaaa nnnoooo I can stooooop I sweaaaaarrr

> :)

> ;] >you’re taking this well I thought you would be horrified

>Oh I am very horrified! I’m just struggling to be an optimist! For you! I’m sure he’s very nice and very trustworthy if you are! I trust your judgement!

>that is a lot of exclamation points and a lot of implied uncertainty and now I am uncomfortable.

>Oh don’t be, I’m just being a silly worried old lady who thinks too much about how things could go wrong. I’m glad you have this relationship. Have fun. I think? Is that what one says? Good luck? Congratulations?

>….please desist.

>If you have babies can I be their honorary grandmother? Please?

>………………. ewdsxc

>Moving a bit fast? Sorry. I love babies. Humor an old lady.

>edkfjjaweskdzcnxvkejrfdc yes. >wefdscdgjerjjsd >this literally just happened pls no I’m still trying to figure out what our relationship is now

>Hahahaha poor dear, I’m sorry. You have less than a minute, get ready to gab.

>aaaaaa!

>Compose yourself dear, surely my untimely request for substitute grandbabies hasn’t unsettled you that much?

>aaaaaaaaaaa!

>Hahahahah oh my. Have you discussed it at least? >shoot you have tendseconds

>aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa no! nothing1 we have discussed nothing h e l p ineedtogodoabroadcastnowbye

>SOrry >*Sorry. >I’m laughing. I’m terrible. Sorry. Sounds good so far.

Sans viewed the completely normal broadcast which followed this conversation as one of his greatest achievements.

Thursday night Sans was awoken by a crash from downstairs. He checked Grillbz’ room and found it empty and, reassured that it was probably not a burglar, went down to find Grillbz draped across a still that was lying on its side in the hallway. He was covered in mostly melted snow and panting. “Heya. What’s the still doing inside—is that our still?” “It is now. I found another one.” “ ‘found’.” “…Yes.” “You bought another still? Why?” “Sans, we make drinking alcohol. It can’t be the best fuel.” “It’s really not. But hey, desperate times.” “is it safe?” “Eh. If you know what you’re doing and have a good filter.” “We’re going to start multiple-distilling batches for fuel.” “No. We can’t sell that. It’s too obvious, even if we pretend it’s for something else. And when are we going to find the time?” “Alright, then you can have it all. I don’t want you to blow yourself up while you’re down there. And as for time, that’s what the second still is for. It’ll take the same amount of time if we work on it together instead of taking turns.” “You bought a still because you were worried about me?” “I never do anything with my money. Help me move it if you want to make it up to me.” “Heh. Will do.” Sans teleported from the stairs into the shed in the backyard, double-checked where everything was so he didn’t try to teleport himself and a still directly into the fermenting mash or the wall, and reappeared on the carpet next to Grillbz, who was struggling to right the still. “Let me do it,” said Sans. Grillbz let go and looked questioningly at him. Sans lay down next to the still, wrapped his arms around it, and then teleported himself—and the still—into an upright position. Grillbz whistled quietly. “Yeah it’s hella useful. Or would be if I could do it in public.” “Mm. Do you ever slip up and do it anyway?” “No. Never.” “Good.” Sans held out his hand. “The time-and-space-disregarding Sans Express is leaving the station. Come with?” Grillbz took his hand. A moment later he, Sans, and the second still appeared in the shed. It was brighter than Sans had expected. He kissed Grillbz’ hand before dropping it and the white flush threw sharp shadows across the walls.

Friday night Sans came back into the main café from putting away the mop he’d just used and found Grillbz wiping down the last of the tables. “Friday night. Are you tired?” Grillbz straightened slowly to look at him. “No more than usual. Why?” “We should go dancing.” Grillbz lifted an eyebrow, amused. “Where?” “Here. Dancing around tables is easier than dancing around other couples anyway.” Grillbz smiled. “That’s antisocial of you, but I’m inclined to agree. But I’m not sure if I can remember.” “OK, stand right there.” “What are you planning?” “Lift your arms up.” “…Like this?” Grillbz circled his arms like a ballerina, frowning in confusion. “Yeah.” Sans trotted towards Grillbz from across the room. After a few steps he vanished, appearing at Grillbz’ chest level. Grillbz gave a startled squeak and caught him. “Heya.” “You’re going to give me a heart attack.” “…Did you just—?” “Hm?” “You did. You squeaked.” “Sans, I am a mighty and fearsome fire elemental. I do not ‘squeak’.” Grillbz said it with a straight face, but Sans knew from his voice that he was struggling not to smile. “You definitely squeaked. Like a rubber ducky.” Sans squished Grillbz’ cheeks. “Squeek squeek squeek.” Grillbz gave a choking laugh. “Stop. I thought you wanted to dance?” “I did.” “Well then.” Grillbz adjusted his hold on Sans, supporting him with an arm behind his back and lifting his hand with his free hand. He stepped into a waltz step, carrying Sans around in a circle twice, then drifting over to a table, setting him on it and spinning him. Sans finished the spin, caught Grilbz’ hand and guided it onto his back, taking his other hand instead and reversing the step. He led Grillbz in a small circle with Sans’ half covering an arc from one corner of the table to the next and then spun him, flames licking under his arms. Grillbz reversed the step. “I didn’t realize you could waltz,” Grillbz said. “I haven’t in forever. Please don’t make me do anything complicated.” “I can’t even remember what I would try. You are safe.” Grillbz spun him again, and Sans spun twice, ending pressed against Grillbz’ chest. He pulled Grillbz’ glasses off, kissed him on the cheek, pocketed the glasses and reversed the step, leading again. “Sans I can’t see.” “Yeah you can.” “Everything is dark, except for things which are blurs.” “You’re doing fine. Trust me.” “Alright.” It worked perfectly, until Sans spun him. He spun at a wonky angle and Sans realized he was going to hit the table. “Shit wait—“ There was a thump and the surface he was standing on tilted. He clung to Grillbz. “Gaah!” He fell on his back and Grillbz fell over him, stopping himself with his arms. “…Oh.” He said, blinking down at Sans. “Uh, hey there.” “Did you do that on purpose?” “Surprisingly, no. I merely obey the mighty laws of gravity.” “Ah. You mean, the attractive force between objects.” Grillbz let his arms go limp and flopped on the floor next to Sans. “Oh dear. Your gravity is too strong. Help. I can’t move.” Sans laughed, banging his head against the floor. “What? You cannot argue with gravity,” said Grillbz. “No, of course I do not presume. Oh, but you’re responsible for a horrifying breach of etiquette. Who lies on the floor in a nice bowtie? The poor tie. All it’s done for you and this is what it’s come to.” “Alas.” Snorted Grillbz, and let Sans undo his tie and loop it around his wrist. “Better?” “Much better. Perhaps the bowtie gods will have mercy on us.” Grillbz snorted, which made Sans laugh, which made Grillbz laugh. They clung desperately to each other for a few moments, choking. “Stop being so damn funny, I’m trying to flirt with you but I can’t stop laughing,” wheezed Sans. “But you look nice when you’re laughing. At least, I think? Judging from past experiences. You still look like a dark blur to me.” Grillbz put his hand out, feeling Sans’ face. Sans folded his hands behind Grillbz’ neck. “You look kinda like a bright blur.” “Really?” “Yeah. So bright. Like, I can look straight at you without hurting my eyes, but it still feels like I’m missing stuff, cuz you’re just… so bright. It turns into blurs.” Grillbz traced his finger over Sans’ brow ridges. They were pursed. “What?” he asked. Sans was running his fingers over a spot at the base of Grillbz’ neck. It felt odd. It took him a few moments to figure out why. There was a patch which was noticeably cooler than the surrounding area. “What is this?” “A scar.” “Does it hurt?” “No. It just feels a bit off.” Sans turned the collar down and kissed the cool patch. His entire vision blazed white. “Better?” “…Not worse.” Grillbz’ arms tightened around him, enclosing him in warmth. Sans snuggled in. Grillbz slowly rubbed circled on his back. Suddenly he stopped, tensing. “What?” whispered Sans. Grillbz remained tensed for a few seconds before relaxing. “Nothing. Thought I heard—“

Someone pounded on the door. He flinched. Sans balled his fists in his shirt.

“Shit.” Grillbz stood, setting Sans on his feet. “Go upstairs, I’ll get it.” “What? No—“ “Hush. It’s probably nothing. It’ll look strange if we’re together.” “Er—? I don’t see why—“ Grillbz carried him to the kitchen, set him inside and closed the door. Sans cracked it open and watching him walk to the door, bumping a table one and putting out his hands to check for more. Whoops… He still had his glasses… He hesitated at the door, and glanced back at the kitchen. ‘Probably nothing’ my ass. He was scared. Sans contemplated running out to join him, but that would probably make him more upset and not less. He was opening the door. Whoever it was hadn’t knocked more than once, that was good. It probably wasn’t too… urgent. …

He couldn’t see very well around Grillbz, but it was someone in a Guard uniform. He couldn’t tell how many more there were, but it was unlikely that there was just one. “What do you want?” said Grillbz, with exactly the right blend of politeness, thinly-shrouded irritation and exhaustion. The Guard didn’t answer immediately, which was.. vaguely menacing. Grillbz took a half-step back and raised his hand. Sans tensed, magic balling in his chest, then saw with confusion that Grillbz was running a hand over the Guard’s face. “…Papyrus?..” “CAn I cOme iN?” Sans’ soul raced. But it couldn’t be, the voice was wrong, wasn’t it? Grillbz stepped quickly to the side, giving Sans a clear view of a tall form that filled their doorway. It seemed to be alone. A red scarf was tossed over its shoulder. “Please do.” Papyrus(!??) didn’t move, but stood on the threshold. “Is SAnS hEre?” Sans pushed the door open and ran across the café to the door. “Hey, bro.” Papyrus looked at him in a way that made Sans wonder momentarily if his memory was intact, but then his face cracked into a smile. “HELlo BROTHeR.” He knelt and pulled Sans into a tight hug. Over Papyrus’ shoulder Sans saw Grillbz push the door shut and lean against it. He appeared to be hyperventilating.

Pt 1

Pt 6

#sansby #fanfiction #dystopian au #in which someone who was previously Mysteriously Absent appears

9 notes · View notes

shiny-the-strange-writes · 7 years

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Ohara Man and Matsuura Boy

Fandom: Love Live! Sunshine!!

Summary: After witnessing Mari terrorize their friends with constant SpongeBob SquarePants references, Kanan decides to watch the show for herself.

Genre: General

Rating: G

Featured Characters: Kanan, Mari, Dia

Pairing(s): None

Chapters: 1

Word Count: 2545

Publication Date: 14 May, 2017

Warnings: none

Extra Notes: Constant Spongebob references. Approach at own risk.

Alt. Links: AO3, ff.net

“All right pinhead, your time is up!” Mari, wearing a cowboy hat, leapt into the water. Her hat flew off and landed on Dia’s face.

Kanan frowned. She looked at Dia, then back to Mari. “Who you calling pinhead?”

Mari laughed. “Ooh, did you watch it again, too?”

Dia placed the hat back on Mari’s head and groaned. “Great, do I have to deal with both of you making references to that cartoon?”

“What are you talking about?” asked Kanan. “I didn’t realise there was a reference to a cartoon in anything we were saying.”

Eyes widening, Mari clutched Kanan’s shoulders. “You mean you weren’t playing along? How could this be?”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” said Kanan.

Sighing, Dia brought a hand to her forehead. “Didn’t you hear? Mari’s rewatching SpongeBob. She’s been quoting it non-stop for the past couple days. I’d never seen it myself until she made me sit through a marathon of it. I’m surprised you never got any of her texts while you were gone.”

“Oh, no, I got them. I just figured it was Mari being Mari.” Kanan raised an eyebrow. “SpongeBob? You mean that American cartoon with the talking sponge? I’ve never seen any of it.”

Mari gasped. “Kanan! How could you have never watched SpongeBob SquarePants?”

“I never watched many cartoons, you know that,” said Kanan.

“That’s going to change! You’re coming over to my room to watch my SpongeBob DVDs on my shiny new projector!” cried Mari, shaking Kanan as best as she could in the water.

Kanan grinned. “Okay, okay, I’ll come watch with you later this week.”

“Hooray!” Mari let go of Kanan and slapped her hat against the water.

“Hey, are we going to sit around talking about cartoons or swim out to that place you were telling us about, Kanan?”

“Of course. If we get there in time, we can watch the sun go down!”

“Yes! Let’s watch the sunset with Squidward,” said Mari. “Then we can swim home—at night!”

Dia looked as if she were on the verge of tears.

~~~~~

Kanan entered Dia’s house to find Mari and Ruby sitting on the floor.

“…And that’s how I lost me millionth dollar,” said Mari.

Ruby’s eyes lit up. “Wow! How much yen is a million dollars?”

Mari chuckled and said the exact number. Ruby screamed.

Dia entered the room with such velocity that everyone jumped. She glared at Mari, hands on hips. “Hey, what’s going on out here? Why are you screaming, Ruby?”

“N-Nothing’s wrong! I was just a little surprised,” said Ruby.

Kanan nodded. “You know what Mari is like with money.”

“Oh, hi Kanan!” said Ruby. Dia and Mari followed suit.

“Did you only arrive just now?” asked Dia.

“Well, I arrived in time to see you rush to Ruby’s rescue.”

A blush spread across Dia’s face. “A-Actually, the reason I came over so quickly is that I was already coming over to tell everyone that the pizza place called. The order is going to be ready soon, so Mari and I should leave to get it now.”

“Pizza? We haven’t had that in a while. Whose idea was that?”

“Who do you think,” deadpanned Dia.

“The Krusty Krab Pizza!” Mari stood and ran to the door. “You wanna come, Kanan?”

“I—”

“Stop right there!” Dia pointed at Mari. “Kanan hasn’t even sat down yet! Kanan, stay here and wait for us to get back.”

“You sure? I don’t really mind going back out.”

“Yes, stay here,” said Dia.

“No, come with us!” said Mari.

“I think I’ll stay and keep Ruby company.”

“Whether you come or not, penny, chip, and used napkin can keep her company!”

Silence. Nobody spoke for several seconds.

“…Let’s go, Mari,” said Dia, shaking her head.

“Aww, okay. See you two—” she made a noise that sounded like a dolphin— “later!”

Dia growled as she shut the door behind her.

Ruby turned to Kanan. “Was it really such a good idea to let those two go alone…?”

“I’m sure your sister will let Mari know when she’s had enough,” said Kanan. “Now, what should we do?”

“Well, Mari left this game that’s supposedly based off a real treasure map here,” said Ruby, motioning to the board game on the table.

The two played the game for some time. Kanan doubted that it had been based off a real treasure map, or at least one that hadn’t already been used to find treasure. Part of her wished that it was still intact and that there really was treasure to find, though. Throughout the process, the lights kept flickering on and off.

“Is there something wrong with the power?” Kanan looked out the window. Not a cloud was in the sky. “It’s not like it’s storming…”

“I-If Mari were here, she’d probably say it was something scary,” said Ruby.

“Like the Hash-Slinging Slasher?” said a voice that wasn’t Kanan’s.

Ruby shrieked.

At the door stood Dia and Mari, the latter holding the pizza with a shit-eating grin on her face. Was this yet another SpongeBob reference? Kanan really needed to check the series out.

Dia elbowed Mari. “Cut it out! You’ve already driven me mad with all your talk of pioneers on the way back home, can you stop making references for five seconds?”

Mari’s smile fell. “Huh? That wasn’t me, though!”

Alarm struck Dia’s face. “Wait, it wasn’t?”

The lights flickered once more. Everyone looked to the side.

There she was, next to the light switch – Yohane.

Mari waggled her finger. “Nosferatu!”

Everyone else screamed.

~~~~

Knocking on the door, Kanan waited. During the events of the previous night, Mari had accidentally left her board game at the Kurosawa house. Kanan volunteered to bring it back, as she had planned to visit Mari the next day anyway.

Opening the door, Mari beamed. “Yay! You made it!” She hugged Kanan before leading her inside.

“I brought you your game,” said Kanan, placing it on the living room table. “It was actually pretty fun. I had to convince Dia and Ruby to let me bring it back to you, rather than letting them keeping it for themselves and going on a real treasure hunt.”

“Ooh, that reminds me! Did you know I invited Dia over today as well? When I called her here, she screamed a ‘no’ out and hung up right away! She’s missing out…” said Mari, slumping onto the couch.

“I think she’s had enough of your memes for now, and we did hang out just last night,” said Kanan. “Now, where’s that essay you wanted me to proofread?”

Reaching over, Mari grabbed a piece of paper. She handed it to Kanan. “Here it is!”

Kanan examined the paper. A very fancy, handwritten “The” was the only word on it.

“This is…”

“It’s joke! I haven’t even started my essay!” said Mari, giggling.

“Okay, you know what?” Kanan slammed her hand on the table. “We’re watching those SpongeBob DVDs of yours, right now.”

Mari stared for a moment before a massive grin spread onto her face. “Really? You don’t even want me to work on my essay first?”

“No matter what Dia or I say, you always leave it to the last minute anyway,” said Kanan.

Within seconds, Mari had seemingly warped to the DVD player. She started the projector. “I had some on last night. I’ll show you the episode I was referencing when I showed you my essay first.”

------

“Aaugh!” Yoshiko flailed a picture around. “I accidentally got paint on Chika’s copy of our first picture together as Aqours! Soon, this picture will burn in the same circle of hell I do…”

“Wait, Yohane, we’re not cavewomen!” Hanamaru motioned to Chika’s laptop. “We have technology, zura!”

“No! Don’t slam the laptop on the picture!”

Maru raised an eyebrow. “…What exactly have you been doing during Guilty Kiss meetings lately?”

------

“Wow.” Kanan stared at the screen. “That was interesting. I think we all know how SpongeBob feels about his essay, huh?”

“But did you like it?” Mari leaned close to Kanan’s face.

Kanan smiled. “Yes. I can understand why people like it, and why you like it so much.”

“Do you want to watch more, from the very beginning?”

“Sure, let’s do it!”

------

“You could’ve just printed a new one instead of licking it, you know,” said Riko, frowning at Chika from her balcony.

Chika rubbed the back of her neck. “Ehehehe…I guess I could’ve done that…”

“S-Sorry for being so loud, Riko.” Yoshiko hung her head. “We only wanted to earn some extra money by painting Chika’s room….”

Riko sighed. “It’s just that your banter made me make a mistake on my painting. Let me show you.” She walked back into her house.

“This whole situation sounds like that SpongeBob episode where he and Patrick paint Mr. Krabs’s house,” said You.

Maru cocked her head. “SpongeBob? What’s that?”

“Only the best cartoon ever!” Chika raised her fists.

You put a hand on Maru’s shoulder. “Hey, do you want to try watching some right now?”

“Hmmm…okay, zura!”

“Yes! Let’s do it!” Chika leaned out the window. “Hey, Riko! Do you want to watch SpongeBob with us?”

No response.

“Hey, come on!” Reaching down, Chika picked up her slippers. She threw one at the balcony, aiming for Riko’s window. When it didn’t land far enough, she threw the other slipper.

The slipper ended up hitting Riko’s face as she walked out with her painting. She slipped and tumbled backwards. “Ouch!”

“Oops….”

“You should probably let me throw the slipper next time,” said You.

“Chika, no! You killed her!” cried Yoshiko. “We can’t go to jail!”

Riko stood and rubbed her forehead. “I’m not dead!”

“Oh…I’m glad you didn’t have the same fate as the health inspector,” said Yoshiko.

“Sorry, Riko!” yelled Chika. “Is the painting okay?”

“It’s the same as it was before.” Riko held the painting up for everyone to see: from the shoulders down it depicted a human body in a schoolgirl uniform.

The head was Squidward’s.

Chika clasped her hands together. “Wow, you really captured his beauty!”

“T-That’s not the point!” Hiding the painting behind her back, Riko looked away.

Chika giggled nervously. “Anyway, do you want to watch SpongeBob with us?”

Riko’s eyes widened. She took several steps backwards until she was in her house, shutting the screen door in front of her. “Please, no more SpongeBob! Goodnight!” And with that, she fully retreated into her room.

“Huh, that was weird.” Chika turned around. “Yohane, do you want to—wait, where’d she go?”

“Look over there!” said Maru, pointing in the direction of Riko’s house.

Everyone turned to see Yoshiko standing in Riko’s room, panting in front of a once again visible Riko.

“Yoshiko, when did you get there?” asked You.

The two girls looked over. Yoshiko grimaced before yelling at the top of her lungs, “My name’s! Not! Yoshikooo!” She closed the sliding glass door and pulled the blinds down.

Chika and everyone else’s faces held the same dumbfounded expression.

------

Humming Ocean Man, Kanan drummed her fingers on the table.

“Hey, Mari, I think the movie is over—” Kanan looked down to see Mari fast asleep, the upper half of her body on the floor and the lower on the couch. Drool pooled at the side of her mouth.

Kanan blinked. She looked outside, suddenly noticing that it had gotten brighter outside. Her eyes were sore and her stomach rumbled.

“Mmmmm…” Yawning, Mari opened her eyes. “Where are we…? What did we do last night?”

“We’re in your room, and we watched the entire first season and the SpongeBob movie,” said Kanan. “I think we were up all night…we probably look like SpongeBob and Patrick after their night at Goofy Goobers right now. Not healthy at all.”

“Aqours should sing the Goofy Goobers song,” moaned Mari, fixing her position and sitting up.

A phone buzzed. Mari picked it up and turned on speakerphone.

“Hi! Is this a good time?” asked the caller, who sounded like You. It probably was You, but Kanan was so exhausted that she wasn’t sure.

“No, this is Mari,” said Mari as she hung the phone up.

They sat doing nothing for a while. Kanan could hardly believe she had managed to stay awake and attentive to the show for as long as she had. Somehow, it did seem as quotable as Mari made it seem.

Not that she would quote it on the same level as her. It would be funny to see Dia’s reaction to the whole thing, though.

“Hey….do you think we should eat breakfast now?” asked Kanan.

“Sleepy.” Mari clutched a pillow and fell to the side.

“I think I’ll leave then.”

“Okay. I hope you had as much fun as I did last night!”

“I sure did.” Kanan headed for the door. “There’s one last thing I need to say before I go, though.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“Write your essay before your hotel catches on fire.” She smiled.

~~~~~

“Quick, everyone be quiet!” said Dia.

Each member of Aqours sat in a line on a bleacher, eagerly waiting for Kanan to sing.

Mari sat directly across from Kanan. She winked.

Kanan winked back as she did a stretch. “You all ready for this?”

A unanimous, enthusiastic “YES!” came from the audience.

Taking a deep breath, Kanan begun:

“F is for friends who do stuff together, U is for you and me! N is for anywhere and any time at all—”

“Down here in the deep blue sea!” joined in Mari.

The audience briefly paused before it broke into cacophony. Yoshiko screamed, Riko put her face into her hands, and Dia looked like she was about to explode. Everyone else cheered and clapped.

“You know, I kind of hate you right now,” said Dia. Her cheeks reddened. “Of all the covers you could’ve done, you chose that? I mean, you sounded good while singing it, but d-don’t think that means I liked the song! I think I’m going to leave now.”

“I was just playing around, Dia. Don’t leave yet,” said Kanan. “You’re going to miss my duet!”

“Y-Your duet? With who?”

Kanan high fived Mari as she came up and stood next to her.

“Are ya ready kids?”

“Aye, aye, captain!” shouted Mari.

“I can’t hear you!”

Everyone except Dia joined in. “AYE, AYE, CAPTAIN!”

“Oooooh…who lives in a pineapple under the sea?”

“SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS!”

Dia’s face continued to redden.

“Absorbent and yellow and porous is he!”

“SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS!”

Dia put her hands on her temples.

“If nautical nonsense be something ya wish—”

“THEN DROP ON THE DECK AND FLOP LIKE A FISH!” suddenly screamed Dia. She glanced around, face at maximum redness. “I-I mean, boo, you stink!”

After a moment of hesitation, everyone else chimed in, “SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS!”

“Oooh, I like where this is going,” whispered Mari.

“Ready?” said Dia.

“SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS! SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS! SPONGEBOB…SQUAREPANTS!”

Dia cackled like Patchy the Pirate.

Everyone gave a standing ovation, the third-year students all taking a bow.

“I knew you liked it all along, sis!” said Ruby.

“Q-Quiet, you.”

Mari tackled Dia, hugging her hard. “Hey, Dia, if you liked it, does that mean we can sing it in front of a bigger audience?”

“Absolutely not.”

#love live!#love live! sunshine!!#love live #spongebob squarepants #kanan matsuura #mari ohara #dia kurosawa #g rated #fic

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rubiaryutheroyal · 8 years

Note

Edgeworth gets drunk at a party. However, where most people topple over and spew nonsense until they pass out, he jumps on the table and starts singing renditions of old songs like Singing In The Rain and Amazing Grace. And no one knows what to think of it.

I dedicate this post to my friends in the AA dream thread at C-R Forums.

–

[With much persistent persuasion from his friends and their concern for his well-being, Edgeworth reluctantly agrees to join them for a reunion party. At first everyone is relaxing and enjoying a few rounds of card games, joke battles, karaoke, and an eating competition. But as the party hours draw long and most of them have had at least a drink or few… even the usually abstinent man finds himself chugging down a bottle of champagne.]

Maya: Wow! That was amazing, Mr. Edgeworth!

Larry: Whoo! Edgey, I knew you could do it, man!

Ema: Not even the last drop can escape on his watch!

[Though instead of collapsing to the floor like a normal person, he insists on standing.]

Kay: Wow, hardcore!

Edgeworth: Take THAT, Wright! Who’s the weak stomach now!?

Phoenix: Okay, okay, you got me. Now sit down. You’re wobbling like crazy.

Edgeworth: I-I’m fine! It was just a little alcohol…!

Phoenix: You just chugged down a whole bottle at once.

Edgeworth: So what? Did you think I’d just lay down and die?

Phoenix: Uh, no, but…

Edgeworth: Oh, no, not I! I will survive!!

Phoenix: …NO.

[Edgeworth jumps on the table and starts singing upon his new stage.]

Edgeworth: Oh, as long as I know how to love I know I’ll stay alive!

Phoenix: E-Edgeworth!

Larry: Duuuude.

Edgeworth: I’ve got all my life to live, I’ve got all my love to give, and I’ll survive~ I will survive!

Maya, Ema: *rofl*

[And then Kay fetches the mic.]

Phoenix: What? No!

Kay: Mr. Edgeworth, catch!

Edgeworth: Hey-ey~ …Huh?

[He doesn’t. It instead hits him in the face as he turns toward her and knocks him over… onto Phoenix, who has lunged to catch him. Unfortunately, they end up on the floor in a pile instead.]

Kay: Oops.

Edgeworth: Dammit, Wright, I was singing…

Phoenix: It’s not my fault!

Edgeworth: Get off me.

Phoenix: You’re the one on me!

Kay: Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth, here’s the mic!

Edgeworth: Thank you, Kay.

Phoenix: Hey, are you listening…?

[It doesn’t even matter because Edgeworth is back up and now he’s dancing - or prancing.]

Edgeworth: I’m singing in the light~ Yes, singin’ in the light! What a glorious feeling, I’m spinning in delight!

[He does indeed spin and nearly topples over because of it, but he catches himself for the next refrain.]

Edgeworth: The stormy clouds have passed, they never were gonna last. Come on with the sun, I’m ready for fun~!

Larry: Huh, wait, what time is it?

Kay: Almost 11.

Larry: Wow, really? Man… I feel so high right now.

Phoenix: We’ve only been drinking!

Maya: Yeah, Mr. Edgeworth, it’s almost time for bed. How about a lullaby?

Phoenix: Maya, no, don’t encourage him-

Edgeworth: A… lullaby?

Maya: I dunno, like… Amazing Grace? Something classic.

Ema: Oh… Hey, isn’t that song sung at funerals or something?

Maya: Oh, is it?

Phoenix: Yes.

Edgeworth: *cough, ahem* W-well, if my audience insists…

Phoenix: You can stop at any time, you know.

Edgeworth: Let’s see, how did it go again… Amazing graaace, how sweeet the souund.

Ema: That voice is so… tender.

Larry: I got a little something tender too if you’re interested…

Phoenix: *pulling him back* Stop right there, Larry.

Larry: W-what? I was just kidding…

[Suddenly, Edgeworth goes silent.]

Kay: What’s wrong, Mr. Edgeworth?

Edgeworth: …I forgot how it went.

Maya: Aww. I wanted you to sing it because I forgot the lyrics too.

Phoenix: Don’t get a drunk guy to think for you.

Maya: Speak for yourself, Nick. You still haven’t gotten off the floor.

Phoenix: Leave me alone, it’s comfortable here…

Kay: It’s okay, Mr. Edgeworth. You did good tonight. We’re all proud of you.

Ema: We always were, sir.

Maya: And you did it all on your own too!

Edgeworth: Y-yes, I did… what I had to do.

Phoenix: Did you?

Edgeworth: And saw it through~ without exemption.

Phoenix: Oh, geez, he’s still singing…

[And he continues to stroll about.]

Edgeworth: I planned~ each charted course, each careful step, along the byway…

Everyone but Phoenix: *stunned in the sheer beauty*

Edgeworth: And more, much more than this… I did it myyy waaay.

[And then he once again trips, this time over Nick on the floor, and falls back on him.]

Phoenix: Aaugh!

Everyone: …

Maya: Your fault, Nick.

Ema: Definitely his fault.

Kay: He didn’t get out of his way.

Larry: Come on, man. He had something beautiful working.

Edgeworth: …Dammit, Wright.

Phoenix: *whimper*

[And from there, they decided that with tripping hazards all around, it was time for the singing maestro to retire from his stage. And so, as if the spell was broken, he blacks out like a light… and still is on Nick.]

Phoenix: I shove him aside and call you out on shoddy narration.

Maya: But that last time WAS your fault.

[Ahem… so Phoenix does, and the night slowly draws to a close. Goodnight, sweet prince. May the angels sing thee to thy rest.]

Girls: Aaaaaah~

Phoenix: …That’s it. I’m never drinking alcohol again.

Larry: Aw, come on, Nick. It was the best thing to come out of this party!

Phoenix: And the worst thing to come out of it too. Ugh, my poor old back…

–

Phoenix: …Wait a minute. I don’t like how I became the one who edged him on to drink - pardon the pun.

Well, the alternative was that Kay and the others got him to join in a game of truth or dare.

Phoenix: And he accepted, huh?

Yes, because Kay previously dared to leap onto the ceiling lamp from a dresser.

Phoenix: …Please stop ruining my office. Or putting someone in danger, for that matter.

#ask meme #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #larry butz #maya fey #ema skye #kay faraday

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