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button-mash · 2 years

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What I played last week #4

I don't want to break the habit of updating this regularly (even now im already lagging almost 2 weeks behind!), so here is a bare-bones rundown of what I played. I'll probably split this up into 2 entries just because I played so much in a short time. To be honest I need to remember this is basically just a way of looking back for myself, rather than putting pressure on myself to write something entertaining or informative or whatever the fuck this isn't.... I just find it really hard to straddle what kind of tone to write in, which ends up becoming this weird thing where I am writing things to myself that I already know, like a games history or whatever. Practicing for ever having an audience I guess! I seem incapable of writing anything without any kind of context first, so here we are - my good friend FJ moved to Boston a couple of years back, but he'd briefly come back for the weekend for work. This meant we not only got a solid chance to catch up (along with my mate Baz), but perhaps more importantly got to play some arcade games on my home machine.

I find my home machine really gets most of it's playtime when other people are over, so it was a good excuse to jump back on it. I always had visions of us all gradually working through the library and discovering random hidden gems - and whilst that does happen occasionally, in pracitce I've found that despite having hundreds of games available, we always tend to pivot to the same few games over and over, which have basically all essentially just become Arcade drinking games - here's a brief look at what we played Neck-N-Neck [Arcade]

A brilliantly simplistic racing game. Up to 6 people can play and your horses all automatically run and you use a single button to jump randomly placed hazards and hedges. The more you're winning, the less chance you get to react to upcoming jumps, which keeps everything tense and keeps everyone in the race for almost the whole thing barring you having a consistent disaster. Each race only takes about a minute and they nail the pool of horses names and the commentary. Great little party game and also has a double function of letting the CPU race itself and guessing the winner as a drinking game Windjammers [Arcade]

One of the all time greatest 1v1 arcade experiences, and the ultimate 'easy to pick up, hard to master' game. It's brilliant because it's one of those games where someone won't have played it before and games are over in about 20 seconds, and within about 5 games you're both reeling off these insanely complex rallies using every tool at your disposal. I do wish you could extend the games a little bit as they tend to run a bit short even if you set them to the highest max score and time - something they actually fixed in Windjammers 2 which seemingly came out of nowhere last year and was a massively pleasant surprise, I was sad to see they took it off of gamepass Shuffleshot [Arcade]

Hard to imagine something that makes a better Arcade drinking game that a literal Arcade version of a game you'd play in a bar. This works pretty brilliantly since it uses a trackball, and the movement and weight of spinning my trackball feels roughly on par with the amount of force and motion you'd use for a puck on an actual shuffleboard (are they even called pucks?) which is quite cool and makes the game feel really intuitive to play. One of those great games that has a surprising amount of tactical depth as you'll quickly have to choose between scoring points for yourself or trying to fuck over your opponent. Also has the most hilariously over the top canadian voice acting ever, can't tell if its supposed to be taking the piss or not

World Class Bowling [Arcade]

This game looks basic as fuck, but its easily the most played game on my machine - it's just the ultimate pick up and play game, doesn't have any complex controls, up to 4 people can play and even my mates who aren't really into videogames enjoy it. The physics aren't remotely realistic, but it always feels consistent and fair, and it nails the whole 90's bowling vibe, along with the dumb CG animations you get on the screen depending on how you score. One thing I really love about this game is how it has different scoreboards for Hi-scores, 300s, 7-10 Splits, etc. Given how much this gets played on gaming nights, I love seeing the initials of my different mates up on the boards, it's like a little passport stamp of previous nights out or something, and it's fun having a bunch of my mates on there, rather than a lot of other games where the scoreboards are just me and nobody else. I remember when I first built this machine, I once bottled a 300 on the very last ball and bowled a 299, only to bowl a 300 the vest next game, just brilliant being surrounded by mates all jeering and cheering when either one happened. To be honest I mainly look back and wonder how on earth I did either one, as I have simply gotten nowhere near even 280 in about 1000 games of this since

Marvel vs Capcom 2 [Arcade]

Okay, this one isn't really as much of a dumb party game, but its just one of my favourite games ever. Like any of the best fighting games, it has an incredibly high ceiling of complexity, but I feel like move execution and timing is so forging in this, it lets anyone jump in and have fun and compete, even if they're not massively familiar with the game or know the difference between a Shoto or a Charge character. The animation in this game blows me away even now, its just bursting with amazing spritework with an insane amount of detail and personality, and manages to capture so much of each character's identity in each frame of animation for every single move. It gets a second gif it's that good. An actual masterpiece

Switch Sports [Nintendo Switch]

This game doesn't really have any of the charm or personality that Wii Sports have, despite ostensibly being a pretty much 1:1 copy of the original. As a party game though, it still has that pick up and play element that makes it pretty decent mindless fun - especially if it's towards the end of the night and you don't want to concentrate too hard. My mates and I have wasted many a drunken evening playing Wii Bowling and Wii Golf, and this is just about good enough to be a placeholder for those. The bowling seems way more difficult though, and slightly less consistent - not that Wii Bowling was a bastion of realistic physics, but the Switch version actually feels less realistic if anything, and I find games of this often feel a bit random compared to the original. I was really excited to play the Golf DLC they added as the Wii version was great fun, but this seemed overly complex which ruined it's appeal a bit - I actually think my Joycons were having issues which probably made trying to play more frustrating than it is in reality, so maybe one I'll come back to down the line

I played some other stuff too - namely Hi-Fi Rush and Undisputed, but I'll save that for another update, as I have a bit more to say about both. That said, I've said that about Ganbare Goemon and Dead Space Remake now, only to never return, so who knows??? not I

#nintendo switch #switch sports #nintendo #arcade #arcades #games with friends #gaming #video games #retro gaming #retrogaming #90s games #90s

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lazypeachsoul · 3 years

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I wouldn't want to spend a minute lovin' anybody else.

Warnings: this fic has some sad moments and mentions of the blip. also kind of AU because I'm completely ignoring Natasha's canon end.

Word count: 4,2k (i got very carried away with this fic)

Summary: · Meeting the right person at the wrong time can be life changing when it doesn’t work out the way we desire. But if it's meant to be it will always happen, right?

A/N: This is my fic for the "Women of Marvel xReader Exchange" created by @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest . It was created for @im-holding-ontoyou and I hope you like it! gif by @natasharomanovgifs 🌼 ALSO; i haven't watched Black Widow yet so I'm sorry if something in this fic doesn't fit the new info we got about natasha.

Masterlist.

To be added to my taglist use this forms or write me an ask!

New York, 2015.

When you received the call from one of your bosses that you had a new case you would have never imagined how big that case would turn out to be.

You had been working for one of the most important law firms in New York for a year now, and you were getting kind of used to reading cases that would be narrated in the papers for months. Rich and entitled men, big divorces were they fight over who gets the yacht, one or two murder cases... if it revolved around the powerful people of New York city, your firm would get it.

When you got to the debriefing and were told that Tony Stark, one of the firm's most important clients, asked your team for assistance in the creation of some legislation with the newly created “Advanced Threat Containment Unit” you were more than surprised.

The events that the Avengers had caused (or saved us from, there were different opinions going around) in the small country of Sokovia were known all around the and it was only time before the most powerful officials asked for the regulation of ‘superhero activity’.

You weren’t important enough to actually attend the meetings that took place with the government, seeing as you had only passed your bar exam a little over a year prior, but you were deemed cheerful and nice enough to act as a nexus between the firm and the client.

For months you spent your days talking to Tony Stark and other members of The Avengers trying to explain what was being talked about. The first few meetings were a disaster, seeing as the mood was somber for the lives lost and nobody really understood your legal jargon. But slowly you started to transform your language and really tried to make the meetings as easy as possible for everyone present.

But who were you kidding, they really didn’t care about the meetings or the silly attorney being sent to explain something that was way above their paycheck. Well, at least Stark was gracious enough to set a coffee station with some pastries for the meeting. You were pouring the hot liquid into your to-go cup when your hand jerked and the hot liquid splashed your hand.

You could feel the sting of the burn but avoided further sudden movements trying not to make it worse. Before you could reach for a napkin to clean up the mess you made, a more dexterous and manicured hand reached for them and exchanged the hot cup in your hand for the bunch of papers.

“Careful, Stark always serves boiling coffee. I think it’s to mask that it’s not the best quality.”

You lifted your gaze from your hand and found a pair of deep green eyes gazing back. You would have thought that spending numerous meetings in the company of superheroes would make you less susceptible to their powerful auras, but being this close to Natasha Romanoff made your heart beat a bit faster.

“Yeah, I found out the hard way.” You joked, lifting your hand a bit. “You would guess one of the richest people in the world would actually serve good coffee...”

Seeing her crack a smile made you feel less tense. Sometimes you forget they are still normal people. Normal people who could kill you with their bare hands and had superhuman powers. She placed your cup on the food table, apparently not bothered by how hot it must have been, and pushed her hand in your direction.

“I’m Natasha Romanoff.” You wrapped your hand around hers and shook it, biting your tongue trying not to tell her of course you knew her name. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself in earlier meetings, we were all trying to come to terms with what had happened.”

“No worries, I can only imagine how hard it must have been for all of you.” You nodded and tried to show her sympathy, trying to avoid thinking about all the lives affected by the fight. “Oh sorry, I’m-”

Natasha quickly cut you off, speaking your name before you could even say it. You could feel your cheeks get warmer at the idea that they actually knew who you were, and she probably could sense your mood change because she quickly explained.

“I know who you are, you send us at least two emails a week about these meetings and FRIDAY always announces you before you arrive.”

“Who announces me?” You asked curiously at the mention of a name you recognized.

“FRIDAY. It’s the name of Stark’s AI technology. It works all around the tower and it’s there to make life easier for everyone.” She explained pointing around at the speakers strategically placed around the room.

“Oh, I get emails from Friday sometimes. Most of them are asking me to translate or explain something about the debriefing because Mr.Stark is not interested in legal terms.” Both you and Natasha laughed at the thought.

But she quickly recomposed and tried to look serious again when she heard her teammates coming in to get ready for the meeting.

“I wanted to ask you about that. Do you think we could schedule a meeting so that you could explain some things about the legislation of the A.T.C.U.?” She spoke lower than she had when the two of you were alone and you wondered why she didn’t want her colleagues to know about the meeting.

“Ye-Yeah, of course I can.” You were confused but thought it would be in your best interest, and the firm’s, to say yes to the proposal. And a meeting with a very attractive and definitely interesting woman was not something that happened constantly for you.

“Great, thank you.” She smiled warmly and squeezed your hand that you hadn’t even realized was still wrapped around hers from the introduction. “I can promise you better coffee.”

You could only hum in response, still trying to piece together what she might want from the meeting. But your thoughts were quickly cut off when Stark entered the room and you moved to start the reunion.

During the entire meeting you could feel the dull pain in your hand from the scorching coffee and the feeling of a pair of green eyes watching your every move.

Vienna, 2016.

The situation had only gone downhill from the Battle of Sokovia. The public’s opinion on the Avengers was at an all-time-low and that made terrorist groups bold. They knew that if they struck and caused enough chaos, the blame would fall on the good guys that tried to stop them.

The only thing that seemed to be a stable thing in your life was Natasha. Well, as stable as dating a superhero might be. She was busy a lot, but you understood the importance of her job and you were quite busy too gaining importance within the law firm.

And even if sometimes terrorists and criminals got in the way you still found a moment to spend together, wrapped around each other without having to think about how messed up life was.

You thought Lagos was the blow that would make everything tumble, the Sokovia accords were unveiled and it broke the Avengers, and your girlfriend. You could feel how torn she was at her decision of some of her friends to oppose the signing and go on the run, and her own decision to subordinate to the United Nations mandate. But you realized how small that had been when king T’Chaka was killed at the UN.

You had been at the UN as part of the USA legal team that participated in the writing and monitoring of the accords. Your participation in the negotiations almost broke your relationship but you were able to recover once you explained your position and Natasha actually came to an understanding of it.

Natasha was also in Vienna when everything went down, you hadn’t managed to properly see her because she was one of the signers and they sat at the assembly while other guests sat at the amphitheater watching the retransmission.

You hadn’t been able to properly see her all day, seeing as she took a detour before flying to Austria. You were only able to communicate through texts where you tried to make the situation more comfortable for her and she promised a peaceful european trip to celebrate the signing.

When the bomb went off and all hell broke loose the first thing you tried to do was look for her, she was at the epicenter of the explosion and you just wanted to see if she was okay. You saw her from afar when you were being pushed to the outside of the building while they swiped the perimeter.

She sat with T’Challa before he jumped from the bench and stomped away. Natasha looked around and your gazes crossed, immediately melting away some of the worry. You tried to push your way through the crowd to get to her, but police and security didn’t budge.

You never took your eyes off of her, scared that if you did she would disappear. But she did move her gaze to her phone and the look that crossed her face when she heard the voice at the other side told you it was a very important call.

Once the call was over and she looked at you again you knew that would probably be the last time you would see her in some time. You hadn’t known Natasha as long as some of her colleagues had, but you could proudly say you could understand what she wanted to say with just a look. And the look on her face in that moment read close to a goodbye.

New York, 2018.

It had been two years since the fall of Helmut Zemo and part of the Avengers was still on the run. And it maybe wouldn’t have had that big of an impact on you if it wasn’t because Natasha had also been on the run for that long.

You had heard about what happened at the Leipzig airport and how Natasha had changed alliances to join Captain America’s fight. You had been heartbroken at the news knowing that any resemblance of normality that you still hope for was destroyed.

You had spent months wondering what had made her change her mind. Had she thought about your conversations about the accords? Had she even remembered you, waiting for her back in New York, when she decided to go on the run?

A part of you tried to convince you of how selfish thinking about that was, why would she think about you when the future of her team and friends was at stake? But also you were her girlfriend, she should have thought about the implications that might have had for you.

In those years you had mourned your relationship and after the grieving period you tried to rebuild your life. New friends, a new position and new chances to take. And it went okay...at least until someone opened their mouth to talk about superheroes or The Avengers. Years down the line and it was still on people’s minds.

On special occasions you would receive anonymous gifts at your office or your apartment. The first birthday after the war you sobbed for fifteen minutes when you saw the bunch of flowers. There was no name or indicative of who might have sent them, that was until you looked better at the card and saw the small red hourglass painted in the corner.

The gifts continued. Every case you won, promotion, birthday or holiday a bunch of flowers would be delivered to you with the same note.

In a way it gave you a sense of peace knowing she was okay and still thought of you. But the more you thought about it the angrier you got at how she had left you.

You didn’t expect a message from your boss to run to the Avengers compound and assess some situation between Coronel Rhodes and Thaddeus Ross. Although the team had crumbled, your company was still hired to legally represent the remaining members and moderate situations that might arise with the government.

You entered the compound expecting another bureaucratic complaint about their activity but you found a trickier situation. The meeting room was filled with people you thought you would never see again.

Captain Rogers was sitting on one of the chairs sporting a new look that made you almost not recognize him and a tense demeanor. Next to him was Sam Wilson, looking around at the smallest of movements and trying to assess the situation. Wanda Maximoff was standing on the furthest corner of the room playing with her rings, meanwhile Vision was apparently being checked out for a wound. What kind of wounds a synthezoid could get was beyond your understanding.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, I might have angered Secretary Ross during a meeting.” Rhodey came up to you with a nervous smile.

You had gotten closer to him thanks to your job seeing as he was the one doing the dirty superhero work.

“Yeah, I got that much from the text. Nothing new then.” You tried to joke to diffuse the tension in the room. “It would have been nice to know you had guests though.”

“We are not guests. Last time I checked this was our home too.”

That voice made your blood freeze. You should have expected her there, all her friends had returned and the chance of her being back too was almost 100%. But hearing her voice again after two years was not something you expected.

You bit your tongue before you could talk about how it’s not a home if you abandon it, but decided against it. This was a fight between them, not Natasha and you.

“I need you to work with the government to avoid this situation becoming a disaster.” Rhodey explained and you scoffed.

“Rhodey, I’m a lawyer not a politician. I have as much power in this as you might have.” You tried to lay your point across but it was difficult with all eyes on the interaction. “Hell, I have even less power than you do.”

“Then I need you to distract them enough to get them off our shoulders.” He pressed. “Something big is coming and we need all the strength we can get.”

You thought about it for a moment. If it was true that something big was coming, the Avengers were the best option to fight it.

“I’m in.” You scoffed at his smile and sat down in one of the chairs of the meeting room. “I’m not ready for the world to end yet.”

The meeting went on for a while. You called bosses, government officials and everyone that would listen to your distractions. You sent emails that would flood their inboxes for days so that they couldn’t read any news that might reach them about what the superheroes had in mind.

It was late at night when a cup of steaming liquid was placed next to you. You looked at it and saw that it was some kind of herbal tea, probably made to relax the drinker. You followed the hand that was still holding the mug until you reached Natasha’s face.

You had done your best to ignore her looming presence in the room but now there was no distraction. Looking at her you could see tiredness in her face. She was platinum blonde now, a look that weirdly suited her, but her face still looked as welcoming to you as it always did.

You tried to stop the flashbacks to the last time you saw it in person in Vienna, but they kept replaying in your head until her voice broke you out of the loop.

“I thought you might need it, I remember how nervous calls used to make you.”

She was smiling but you could tell it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I got over it since I got my promotion. Now I spend a long portion of my day making calls.”

She hummed and sat down next two you, but leaving a chair in between you as a safe space.

“I read about it in an article, I sent you flowers to celebrate.”

“I got them. And the Christmas ones. On my birthday too.” You enumerated the times you had gotten the plants in the past two years. “You must have spent an awful amount of money buying me so many flowers.”

“You deserved it, you still do.” She shrugged and that’s when you noticed she had her own mug of warm tea in her other hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to celebrate with you.”

You laughed into your mug sarcastically. Out of everything you expected her to say this wasn’t one of them.

“Did you really? Because you didn’t seem to consider me much when you went on the run for two years.”

Natasha paled when she heard your tone. She probably wasn’t used to situations like these but you weren’t going to let her go without an apology at least.

“I was trying to do the best for-”

“-for the world. I get it, Natasha, I do.” You tried to contain your emotions but it was getting harder with every word. “Relationships are supposed to be teamwork. I know you are always too busy playing heroes and I never judged you for that, I just wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me before you disappeared.”

She was silent and knowing Natasha it’s because she was probably overwhelmed with the display of feelings. But she needed to hear how bad you had felt.

After minutes of waiting for an answer from her and getting nothing but sighs you shook your head and looked back at the computer screen.

“I guess it was a case of the right person, wrong time.” You shrugged trying to find distraction in the flurry of letters in your email inbox. “Or at least it was for me.”

She got up from her seat without a word and you grew exasperated. Why had she even approached you if then she wasn’t willing to have an adult, two sided conversation? She was almost at the door when you heard her voice again.

“Please never doubt how much I love you. I made some bad choices but dating you was not one of them.”

New York, 2024.

Time apparently flies by when you are erased from the face of the earth. One day you are in your office working late and the next you appear five years in the future with no recollection of what might have happened.

You were taken by authorities to impromptu camps and one by one examined to check your identities. The entire thing seemed to be something out of one of the dystopian novels you used to read as a teenager.

When it was your turn you gave them all the information you had on what had happened. You had given them your name and personal information and apparently had been a very searched person because the computer started beeping as soon as your name was introduced in the database.

You were moved to a secluded part of the camp and kept in an isolated room for god knows how long. Your stomach was in knots during the entire situation and you could feel the cold sweat on you. That mixed with the metallic taste on your tongue you knew this time your anxiety was justified. You were almost dizzy because of how hard you were thinking about the entire situation and trying to make sense of it.

When you heard the door of the room open you jumped up, discarding on the floor a makeshift blanket that had been placed on your shoulders when you got there. Your legs almost gave out at the movement and your heart felt like it was going to burst out.

The door opened enough for you to see who had been searching for you. Natasha stepped through the door still dressed in her tactic gear and with tiredness written all over her face. But that feeling seemed to almost disappear when she finally saw you.

With quick movements she stepped into the room and wrapped her arms around you tightly. For some reason that action was the trigger that you needed to let all your emotions consume you.

You started sobbing uncontrollably at the unknown. You didn’t understand what happened or how you are here, but feeling her embrace helped you feel safe in a way. It had been years since you last hugged her but it still felt as good as back in 2015.

You could hear Natasha’s soothing shushes in between your sobs and you moved to hold her tighter.

“You are here. I can’t believe I found you again.” She spoke softly and you didn’t know if she was speaking to you or herself. “It’s okay darling. I’m here and I’m not letting you go again. I promise.”

And with that promise a ray of hope made way between all the fear you felt.

Missouri, 2025.

Soft music could be heard all around the ground floor of the house. The soft beat was upbeat enough to get the morning started but not enough to be overwhelming if you had just woken up. You were sitting on the kitchen island looking at the news on your phone and having breakfast.

Mornings were usually very calm around the homestead and you couldn’ be more thankful for that. It allowed you to silently prepare your breakfast and coffee and get a headstart on Natasha’s breakfast too.

Since she had retired, Natasha had discovered a newfound love for sleeping in and you didn’t dare to take that away from her. She deserved it from all the work she had done in her life.

You, meanwhile, tried to get up early to scroll through the cases that you got in your new and smaller job and schedule meetings or emails.

It was a Saturday so work wasn’t a thing and you could actually enjoy your toast and coffee in peace. Or at least until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your middle and pulled you back against Natasha.

“Good morning baby, how did you sleep?”

“Like a baby.” You could feel her smile when she kissed your cheek from behind. “You weren’t there when I woke up though.”

You shrugged before moving to get a bite out of your toast. Natasha tried to do the same but you quickly moved it away from her with a smile. She tried again and you moved as fast as your reflexes allowed you.

“C’mon baby, give me a bite” “No, it’s my toast. You can make your own.” “But it tastes better when you make it.” “No it doesn’t, don’t be lazy.”

The playful fight continued for a few moments until she got close enough to get a small bit but you moved it again.

“Don’t make me bite you, darling.”

You chuckled at her threat and plopped the remaining toast on the plate in front of you. Breakfast didn’t matter much anymore. You threw yourself into her arms and pressed your lips against hers. It wasn’t a slow and sensual kiss, it was closer to how small kids smooch their parents. But you knew it would convey your love more deeply.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Nat.” You spoke against her lips and squaked when you felt her playfully nip at your bottom lip.

“Is now a good time?”

That question had become recurring in your household, a nod to the phrase you said when you found eachother again after being separated the first time.

“I couldn’t think of a more perfect time.”

And you couldn’t. The rest of your life spent in a homestead with your girlfriend and whatever life might bring? It sounded absolutely delightful.

Taglist: @tagehaya @flyforeverfree @rooskaya-yelena @evalynanne @insanitybyanothername @princessayveke @yelenabelovasgf @kyli314

#natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fic #marvel x reader

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wienerbarnes · 3 years

Text

A Certain Romance (1/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,513

Warnings: fake dating au, mention to past abusive relationship

A/N: im so EXCITED to start posting this series lmk what yall think!!!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

He couldn’t quite think of a word to describe the restaurant.

The deep tones of maroon on the walls contrasting against the clean, stark-white tablecloths, tablecloths that have been so deeply washed, soaked in bleach and radiating chemical residue beneath plates of fancy and over-priced dishes for people who have too much money than they know what do with.

Ratatouille is the special for tonight, priced at $32. Side dishes extra, of course.

The overly simple decor on the walls with lighting so dim you’d think they forgot to pay the electric bill, all in the name of minimalism and an art form you just wouldn’t understand.

Bucky has news for them, though. Minimalism won’t get rid of their depression and anxiety, and a $30 plate of vegetables won’t bring you happiness.

His collar feels tight around his neck, even though the first two buttons on his shirt are undone. The longer he stands around waiting for Sam, the more ridiculous he feels. He’s sweating suddenly, and all he wants to do is leave, go back to his apartment, to Alpine, and take off this stupid monkey suit of an outfit.

Where r u?

Should be sitting pretty at a table already. Wearing a cute lil red dress. maybe blue, not sure.

“Son of a bitch,” Bucky mumbles under his breath after reading Sam’s text.

It’s Bucky’s fault at this point. Not only is this not the first time Sam has done this to him, set him up on a blind date and tell him it's him he’s meeting and not a girl, but it’s not the second either. Sam has done this three times, and this is going to be the fourth. How do you let this happen to you four times?

It’s not a surprise either when the date goes horribly all three times, either. The girls are always nice and always beautiful, but Bucky’s in such a sour mood by the time he reaches the table that it’s a failure from the start.

That’s a good word to describe the restaurant. Sour.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a table under Sam. Or maybe Bucky.” He approaches the hostess, praying that whoever Sam has set him up with isn’t here and that they stood him up.

“Ah, yes, your date has been waiting.” She tells him, and he tries not to roll his eyes.

The walk through the restaurant to the table makes him feel more ridiculous than when he was waiting. He feels all eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl, even though when he glances around, everyone has their eyes on their own date; their date that probably wasn’t sprung up on them by a man who dresses up like a bird for a living.

Careful not to trip over his own feet in the dark room, the only lights being small bulbs on a thin string from the high ceiling, he sees a table that’s probably for him.

The only table with one person sitting alone, he spots you looking down at your phone with a slight frown on your face. Sam was right on his first guess, you’re wearing a deep red dress, thin straps over your shoulders and he can see through underneath the table that it flows down to your calf. Nude heels adorn your feet as they are crossed at the ankle, and he can’t help but feel a little bad.

Just because he thinks minimalism and expensive meals are stupid doesn’t mean that other people don’t enjoy them.

“Hi, uh, sorry I’m a little late.” He greets as he takes his seat.

You look up from your phone and give him a closed-lip smile, an unspoken way of saying it’s alright, but he’s seen that tight smile on too many girls before to know that, no, it’s not really alright.

“I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” He asks, hoping that the sooner he starts the conversation, the sooner he can get the fuck out of here. Respectfully.

As far as introductions go, this has definitely been the most awkward. Neither of you know what to say. Not that he’s about to go around giving Sam advice about setting him up with people, because he certainly wouldn’t want Sam to take that as him asking him to try again, but he couldn’t have set him up with someone worse.

It’s painfully awkward, and he feels himself sweating again, blushing from slight embarrassment at this disaster of a date.

The waiter hasn’t even brought out the bread yet.

He can’t do this.

“Listen,” He begins after a few minutes of silence and the two of them awkwardly glancing around the room, as though the avant-garde art pieces are the most interesting thing either of them have ever seen.

“I’m sorry if I don’t seem like I want to be here, it’s because I don’t. And it’s got nothing to do with you, it’s just that Sam told me I was meeting him here because he thinks he knows best when it comes to setting me up on dates even though I’ve told him countless times that -”

He stops when he realizes you’re laughing. Giggles escaping from behind your manicured hand that’s attempting to cover your mouth, he can’t believe you’re laughing at him. As if the date couldn’t get worse.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you.” You tell him, the most you’ve spoken the entire night, only really telling him your name and a few one-word answers a while ago.

“It’s just that I don’t want to be here, either. And Sam also told me I was meeting him here, not a date. And I thought that was funny.”

That bastard, Bucky thinks. But he appreciates that it’s the situation you find funny, and not him. He’s never had a date laugh at him before, and as tough as he is, he can’t lie and say it wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

He opens his mouth to say something but another man in an equally ridiculous monkey suit such as his own approaches the table, a basket of bread in hand.

He can’t help but notice how small the breads are and the fact that the butter is individually wrapped in those small tinfoils - not even The Cheesecake Factory does that, they bring butter in a tiny dish - but he doesn’t say anything.

At least now he has something to do with his hands.

The two of you both pick at the bread in your hands, and while the tension is somewhat eased at the table with the confession that neither of you want to be there, it’s still silent and awkward, as neither of you have spoken again.

Bucky doesn’t know what causes him to say it, maybe it's the obligation he feels to keep the conversation going and fill the silence, maybe his mind just insists on making the evening worse, because apparently that’s possible.

“My best friend died. Recently. And Sam’s been setting me up on these dumb dates to take my mind off it.” He says, and he sees out of the corner of his eye your hands pause around the bread and your head lifts slightly to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same.

“Sam was a little better about it at first, using distracting me as a way to distract himself while we both grieve. But he’s got the whole Captain America thing, helping his sister, working with Torres; he got over it a little quicker than I did and… expected me to get over it, too.”

He’s afraid to meet your eyes. He’s not sure why he just told you that, or why he felt like he owed you an explanation in the first place. He doesn’t even know you! What does he care if the date is awkward? He could leave now and never see you again and not feel bad about, and yet he sits here, sacrificing his own comfort in order to attempt to salvage the evening by being honest? Is honesty even what you want?

“My boyfriend beat the shit out of me. If we’re sharing tragic backstories, I mean.” You reply, looking down at your own bread now that Bucky’s head has snapped up to look at you, a humorless smile on your face.

“Had to move states, change my name, the whole nine yards. And while I wasn’t grieving a best friend, I was grieving… myself. My old life. And Sam doesn’t just distract himself by setting you up on dates, he’s been doing that with me, too. And, so, I kind of get what you mean, when you say that other people get over it and expect you to be okay, too.”

Another pause of silence, but the awkwardness is gone now.

“How many times have you heard the phrase, The grieving process is not -”

“Linear? Too many times. If I had a dollar for everytime I heard that, I’d probably have enough money to afford a plate at this place.” You finish for him, a disgusted look on your face. Almost the same look he had on his face when he entered the restaurant.

He laughs, though. The first time he’s laughed tonight.

“Are you two ready to order?” The waiter interrupts again, small booklet in hand, and thick French accent in the air. Of course, the waiters here are French, how is he even surprised?

“Do you mind if we have a few more minutes with the menu?” Bucky replies, not receiving much of an answer as the waiter looks him up and down, gives him a curt nod, and leaves the table once more.

“Listen, I don’t know about you, but this place looks like… I don’t even know, but it just looks sad, and I know a pretty good pizza place a few blocks away. If you don’t mind walking. Or continuing this date as friends?” He squints as he finishes his question, hoping you won’t take it as him playing hard to get, and actually want to be friends and absolutely nothing more.

“You had me at pizza.”

With the bread from the restaurant in hand and his jacket around your shivering shoulders, the two of you make your way down the sidewalk, stomachs rumbling at the thought of cheap, greasy, slices of pizza.

Sitting among people in their pajamas and otherwise casual clothing, it’s safe to say the two of you are the best-dressed people in the joint. Bucky tells you this and you laugh again, agreeing. Slice after slice goes down easily, much easier than any plate at that stupid clownhouse of a restaurant.

The conversation is easier, too. It’s almost like it was so bad before because of the suffocating atmosphere of the restaurant, The Fork, a stupid name for a stupid place.

What was that word he said before? Oh, yeah. The restaurant was sour. The pizza place, though, run by two older, heavier men with ungroomed mustaches and dark pit stains, is much less sour.

“I surprisingly had a good time tonight. I’m really glad we both came to an understanding of not wanting to date due to our individual unresolved trauma and issues, that we should probably be in therapy for.” You tell him, after thanking him for paying the six dollars both your copious amounts of pizza slices cost.

“I did, too. I’m just glad we didn’t have to stay at that dumb restaurant, I mean what was Sam even thinking with that place?” He rubs his fingers over his eyes in lasting disbelief. He’ll never let Sam live that place down.

“Speaking of Sam,” You start, stepping out of the pizza place as Bucky holds the door open for you, “Would you mind telling him that the date went well?”

“I mean, technically it did, didn’t it?”

“It did. But if we tell him that we left with a newfound friendship rather than sore legs and sex hair, he’s just going to keep setting us up on more shitty dates. I mean he’s great, but he does a better job at being Captain America than he does at being Cupid.”

“Agreed. He’ll just keep setting us up with people until we end up dating one of his picks, regardless of friendships made along the way. He’s too competitive, he doesn’t see friendship as a success, only a boyfriend or girlfriend.” Bucky admits.

“So… if he asks, we’ll just say we’re going to go on another date? And then whenever we hang out, we’ll just -”

“Be extremely and explicitly clear about it to him.” Bucky finishes.

They smile at each other satisfied, satisfied knowing they’re finally going to outsmart the bird man, they’re finally going to be done with shitty, last-minute blind dates that they never wanted to go on in the first place.

“Do you need a ride home?”

“Oh, no, my friend’s on her way to get me now.”

“I’ll wait with you then.”

Cheesy flirting ensues as the two of you joke about fake dating, competing to see who can think of the worst pick up line. Bucky feels a bit embarrassed that he probably would’ve used a few of these a few decades ago when he was a fresh, young man, but he doesn’t dare mention that to you. No need to give you more ammunition to use against him, and especially no need to risk you mentioning it to Sam.

Your least favorite, and evidently his favorite, is If happiness starts with “H,” why does mine start with “U”?

He laughs as you dramatically gag on the sidewalk, almost not noticing the car pulling up to the two of you.

“This is me. Oh, here’s your jacket by the way.” You move to take it off from atop your shoulders but he stops you.

“Hold onto it for me. And also, mention to Sam that you’re holding onto it for me.” He winks.

“Will do. Boyfriend.”

“Drive safe. Girlfriend.” He opens the passenger door for you, greeting your friend briefly, and offering a hand out to help you sit inside, closing the door after you’ve clicked your seatbelt.

He watches the rear lights grow smaller and smaller as you disappear down the street, and he begins walking back to where you two came from. His bike is still parked at the restaurant, after all.

That was probably the best date - not a date, friend date - he’s ever been on, and by far Sam’s greatest success yet, even if it’s not the romantic relationship he probably intended.

It was nice to talk to someone without the pressures of impressing them, the intrusive thoughts questioning their deeper motives or what it is exactly they want out of a date with him. He tried engaging in the whole hookup-one-night-stand culture once, and didn’t like it at all.

Not to mention, he’ll never have to go on one of Sam’s set-up dates again! And he didn’t even need to get a girlfriend to do so!

The night couldn’t have ended better, and he can’t wait to tell Sam all about it.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel

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kolsmikaelson · 4 years

Text

the three times he tried to ask you out and the one time he actually did- joel farabee

a/n- this is kinda meh but i hope yall enjoy it. not proofread. gif not mine, creds to owner.

word count-1.3k+

warnings- gets a teeny bit heated but no smut

add yourself to the taglist

you met joel the first day you moved into the apartment complex. he caught your eye from that very day. he was around your age, seemed sweet, and not to mention he was definitely attractive. you thought he was shy at first but when you heard him with some friends not long after moving in, you thought he was just shy around you.

the first time he tried to ask you out was a bit of a disaster. he caught you in the hallway when you were coming home from getting groceries. ‘hey y/n ! need any help?’ you smile his way, ‘ joel hey ! yeah that would be lovely.’ you let joel take some of the bags from your hands so that you’re able to get your key into the lock. as soon as you both are in your apartment you lead him into the kitchen where he puts down the groceries he took from you. ‘thank you joel, i really appreciate it.’ his face gets even more red as the seconds pass. joel keeps his eyes trained on the ground and mumbles out a thank you.

before he turns to leave your apartment, ‘hey uh, y/n?’ he questions. you hum in response and look up at him. ‘would you..’ he trails off before correcting himself. ‘would you let me borrow your phone ? i accidentally locked myself out and i need to call my team mate so he can bring me my extra key.’ he scratches his neck, beating himself up on the inside for not asking you out. ‘ yeah of course, here you go,’ you hand your phone to him. he walks towards the front door and pretends to call someone.

————

the next time joel tries to ask you out is after a rough game. the flyers lost, 4-0, to the pens, and a loss is always hard for him, wether it be to the pens or not. he knew that he would probably chicken out again, but it couldn’t hurt to try. he stops in front of your door instead of walking to his and brings his fist up to knock. when you hear the knock your brows furrow in confusion, you weren’t expecting anyone so hearing a knock on your door this late was confusing. you look through the peephole to see joel standing there nervously. ‘ hey whats up joel, you okay?’

‘oh fuck’ he thinks. he realizes he has no idea what he wanted to say. he rushes to come up with an excuse, any excuse, to speak to you and not stand there like an idiot. ‘ uh i was baking a cake for my mom, and i was a couple eggs short do you think you could spare two?’ you laugh, ‘yeah of course dude, one sec.’ dude he thinks, you’ll never think of him as anything more than a friend. his face drops at this realization.

you walk back up to joel and see the look on his face, you wanted to ask what was wrong but you hadn’t known him all that long so you decided against it. ‘ here you go joel’ you place the eggs in his hand, your fingers brushing his slightly, making the both of you blush. ‘thanks y/n, i appreciate it.’ you nod and close the door as he walks away.

joel walks back into his apartment with two eggs in his hand that he didn’t even need. he was so sure he was gonna do it. ‘another time.’ he thinks to himself.

————

the third time he tried to ask you out, is when you helped him into his apartment after a rough game. you hear some thuds outside of your apartment so you choose to peek your head out and see if anyone needs help. the sight you see surprises you. ‘joel, what happened?’ he looks at you and shakes his head. ‘nothing y/n im fine, you can go back inside,’ he smiles. you can see him wince as he moves to unlock his apartment door. you rush to close your door and help him stay standing. ‘yeah, definitely not happening farabee. i’m gonna help you and you’re gonna tell me what the hell happened.’ he nods but stays quiet. he hadn’t wanted you to look at him differently when he told you he was in the nhl. he wanted to get to know you better before telling you. he didn’t assume that you’d try and take advantage of him, but it had happened before and he was nervous.

once you have him sitting on his couch you ask what happened again. ‘ um, i’m in the nhl and i had a pretty rough game tonight, i’m just sore.’ he mutters hoping that you don’t hear him. you did hear him though. ‘woah really? thats insane. you must be really good huh?’ you joke. you can see his face drop at your joke. ‘hey, joel im joking, i don’t care that you’re in the nhl, you’re still my same dorky cute neighbor.’ you realize your slip up after it is too late. joel smiles at your confession, ‘you think im cute huh?’ he smirks. you playfully hit his chest, ‘ and what if i do?’ you smile. ‘well, you’re in luck, i happen to find you very pretty y/n.’

————

the time joel finally had to guts to ask you out. he came home from the bar after a 5-0 win against the pens a little tipsy and as happy as you had ever seen him. joel knocks on your front door at half past eleven with determination set on his face. this was of course after he had a couple of drinks in him and some pep talks from nolan and teeks. he was going to finally ask you out after all the months of pining after you. all he could do was hope you said yes.

you open the door sleepily, ‘joel?’ you question. he immediately feels bad for having woken you and almost decided to just ask you out the next day. but before he can stop himself, ‘hey y/n, i know this is random, and don’t feel like you have to reciprocate these feelings but i need to do this for me. y/n we have slowly been getting to know each other since you moved in and i think i’ve fallen for you. you’re just so kind and genuine, and not to mention gorgeous. so i guess what im trying to say is, will you go out with me?’ you let joel take a breath before answering him. ‘joel, i would love to go out with you’ you respond with a grin breaking out in both yours and joels faces. ‘could i hug you? i don’t wanna go to far and ask for a kiss yet, but you saying yes makes me so happy.’ joel rambles. you nod and pull him in for a hug, but what he didn’t expect, was for you to pull his face to yours and press your lips to his. the kiss starts to get a little heated, with joel running his tongue across your bottom lip, but before anything else happens you both pull away for air. ‘wow’ joel says in amazement. ‘that was..wow’ you can tell joel is stunned.

‘how about this joel, you head to your apartment, text me in the morning, and after our date, we can continue what we started here yeah?’ he nods and pulls you in for another quick kiss and then walks to his apartment. that night, joel falls asleep happy that he finally asked out the person of his dreams, and you fall asleep happy that you finally have a date with your dorky, cute neighbor. it may have taken a couple of shots and pep talks from nolan and tk, but both you and joel couldn’t be happier that he finally got the guts to ask you out that night.

taglist- @jamiedrysdales @joshsandersons @stlbluesbrat @2manytabsopen @nhlandotherimagines @iwantahockeyhimbo @ryanssuzuki @boqvistsbabe @alxvlasic

#joel farabee #joel farabee x reader #joel farabee imagine #philadelphia flyers x reader #philadelphia flyers imagines #philadelphia flyers #caitee writes

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years

Text

Ginger Snap, Chapter 2

A/N I am breaking probably the only rule I gave myself when I started writing fanfic, which was Don’t Ever Post a WIP. But lord knows I’m not immune to peer pressure and the narcotic that is reader feedback, so here it is, the second chapter of what is now an open-ended modern AU story about Jamie the Chef and Claire the Kitchen Disaster. Still a first person Claire POV, so I apologize in advance for any stray pronouns.

For the first chapter, I recommend reading it on Ao3, since I’ve made some minor edits since I first posted it on Tumblr. See above re. not planning on posting a WIP.

Oh, and funny story. When I decided to check the location of the real Ginger Snap catering company in Edinburgh, it was squished between “FrazersOnline” and “McKenzie Flooring”. If that’s not kismet, I don’t know what is. The location I describe below, however, is based on a catering venue here in Ottawa called Urban Element, where I’ve attended a few team-building events. I have yet to set anything on fire, though.

I checked my phone for the third time, confirming I wasn’t lost.

Frank and I moved to Edinburgh over the summer, just in time for him to start his position as Associate Professor of History at the University of Edinburgh. Despite our years spent in America, neither of us cared overmuch for driving, so we chose a flat (or rather, Frank chose a flat and I concurred) not far from campus. Therefore, this was the first time I’d ventured as far afield as Leith, a maritime enclave just to the north of the capital that couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to be grittily working class or artistically hip.

When I finally reached the address, I had to smile. No main street pretensions or non-descript commercial frontage for Ginger Snap Catering. Before me stood a two-story red brick fire station, still emblazoned with the crest of the Scottish Fire and Rescue Services. The two massive truck bays were now enclosed by see-through doors that could be drawn back on a sunny day. Through these a warm yellow light could be seen, spilling onto the grey, damp pavement.

A petite woman with dark hair manned the small reception area, a red-haired toddler clinging to her like a marsupial. She held a phone to one ear while simultaneously pacing the polished concrete floor. I stood as unobtrusively as possible near the door, but in such an open space it was impossible not to overhear her side of the conversation.

“... they willna take ‘im back until ‘is fever goes down... aye, an hour ago when I picked him up but it hasn’t... nay, i dinna think it’s... tis jus’ terrible timing with two weddings t’morrow... Could ye? Och, I owe ye Mrs. Fitz, a million times o’er... Anytime, we’ll be here. Alright, soon.”

The speaker turned to me, the harried look of a working mother sharpening her already honed features.

“I apologize fer keeping ye waiting. What can I do fer ye t’day?”

Before I could respond, the young boy, probably no older than two, began to fuss, rubbing his flushed cheek against his mother’s shoulder.

“Och, mo ghille, Mam kens ye’re poorly. Mrs. Fitz is coming as fast as she may.”

Unable to quell my instinct to diagnose and then cure, I spoke up.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. Based on his age and the way he’s holding his head, it may be an ear infection.” At the woman’s penetrating look, I hastened to explain: “I’m a doctor. Would you mind if I took a closer look?”

Permission granted, I carefully palpated the boy under the jaw and peered as best I could without an otoscope into the offending ear canal. Confident in my diagnosis, I recommended treatment with a warm compress, an over-the-counter analgesic ear drop, and children’s paracetamol to control his fever. If, after twenty-four hours the symptoms had not improved, they could consider seeing his pediatrician for antibiotics, but these were only truly necessary for a persistent infection.

“Och, ye ‘ave no idea what a relief it is tae hear ye say so, lass. He’s my first bairn, ye ken, an’ I can ne’er tell if I’m over-reacting or being negligent. Can ye say thank ye tae the nice doctor, Wee Jamie?”

My stomach jumped. “Wee Jamie? Is he related by chance to Jamie Fraser?”

“Aye, tis his nephew. I’m Jamie’s sister, Jenny. Ye ken my brother, then?”

The pieces fell into place, and my insides settled.

“We’ve spoken before,” I explained. “I’m Claire Beauchamp. You and your brother helped me with a dinner party emergency last Tuesday. I came to return your market bags, and to thank you again for coming to my aid during my hour of need.”

Jenny and I spoke for another ten minutes, sharing the superficial narratives of two strangers brought together by circumstance. She was warm and thistly by turns, and I felt a longing for the honesty of female friendship that I’d given up when we left Boston. Eventually a matronly woman arrived to collect Wee Jamie. I carefully wrote down the exact names and dosages of my prescribed remedy.

After Mrs. Fitz and Wee Jamie had left, it occurred to me that Jenny needed to get back to work. I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do, even if I hadn’t thanked Jamie himself. As I began to make my goodbyes, however, Jenny interjected. “If ye’re no’ in a rush, why dinna ye join our afternoon cooking class? My brother will be demonstrating how tae make quiche. Tis the least we can do, after ye helped Wee Jamie.”

Which was how I found myself standing behind one of six cooking stations arranged across the fire station’s main area, a bright red apron covering my black slacks and saffron turtleneck. My impetuous curls were slowly breaking ranks from where I’d slicked them into a bun that morning. I worried I looked like a human Pez dispenser.

I glanced at the workstation immediately to my left. A slight woman who I guessed to be roughly my own age was engrossed in her phone, a cheeky smirk playing on her berried lips. Her strawberry blond hair was swept into an effortless chignon that made me twitch with envy. She looked up from her screen and caught me looking her way.

“Geillis Duncan,” she said, offering a well-manicured hand.

“Claire Beauchamp. Pleased to meet you.”

“Is it yer first time taking a class, Claire?” At my nod, she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially: “Ye’re in for a treat.”

Before I could enquire what she meant, a murmur amongst the other students (all women, save one) was accompanied by the heavy tread of work boots on polished concrete and a familiar Scottish burr.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank ye fer joining me on this dreich Scottish day. I ken a few of ye are new, so let’s start with a brief overview of yer stations and some basic safety reminders, before we tackle the quiche.”

Today Jamie was wearing a pair of olive pants that tapered down his endless legs and a technical shirt that clung valiantly to his upper body. He looked like he’d just stepped off the nearest rock climbing pitch. I wondered if he owned anything that answered to the name of a professional wardrobe, but I couldn’t deny that he looked impressive, in an athleisure sort of way.

“See what I mean?” Geillis hissed at me as Jamie made his way to the front of the hall, speaking now about optimal burner temperatures. “That man is a dozen kinds of yes.”

I concentrated on each step of the ostensibly simple recipe. Pie crust had been the previous week’s assignment, so I had only to blind bake the prepared dough already at my workstation. Once I had the crust centered exactly in the pie pan, pierced with a fork in orderly rows and placed in the oven, I rushed to catch up with the others. I’d missed Jamie’s instructions regarding pan frying the bacon, so I increased the flame, thinking I could make up a little time. The fatty meat crackled pleasingly as I set it in the lightly greased pan. I was inordinately proud of myself.

Things went very badly, very fast. First, my eyes wouldn’t stop watering as I meticulously peeled then dissected the onion into near-transparent crescents. Tears obscured my vision and I tried to wipe them away without contaminating my hands. To my left I could make out Geillis skillfully cracking eggs into a glass bowl, her pie crust already elegantly filled with crispy morsels of bacon and caramelized onion bits.

A vague sense of having forgotten something important tickled my mind. My pie crust! Grabbing a silicone glove (I wasn’t making that mistake twice) I rushed to the wall oven and extracted the pan. Giddy with relief, I saw the dough was only a little dark around the edges.

Before I could return victorious to my station, Jamie uttered a Scottish noise of alarm from his vantage at the front of the class. We both rushed across the room to where my rashers of bacon now resembled blackened shoe laces obscured by a heavy veil of smoke. With practiced ease, Jamie lifted the entire skillet into the adjacent sink and turned on the cold water. A cloud of steam enveloped his head, highlighting his auburn curls. I bit my lip as he looked my way in amusement.

“I hope ye werena planning on serving quiche to yer faculty guests t’night, Ms. Beauchamp?”

I stood meekly next to Geillis for the remainder of the class, no longer trusted around open flame without adult supervision. She graciously allowed me to extract her quiche when it was done baking. It looked like a magazine cover. Meanwhile, my workstation looked like the scene of an industrial accident.

While we were waiting for her quiche to cook, Geillis and I got to know each other a little better. She was a Highland lass from up near Inverness. Married to a wealthy older man, her life sounded like an endless quest for diversion. Despite this, or because of it, she had a sharp-witted frankness that I appreciated. She was also a hard-core gossip.

“Wee besom,” she remarked with a nod towards a blond girl who was currently monopolizing Jamie’s attention with endless questions punctuated by manufactured giggles and flicks of her pin-straight hair. “Tha’s Laoghaire Mackenzie of the Mackenzie brewing dynasty. They’ve a live-in cook, so there’s only one reason she attends these classes, and it isna for the quiche.”

I watched Jamie laugh over something the girl said, mineral eyes alight and his perfect white teeth on display. I suppose I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t here for the quiche either.

The interminable ninety minute lesson finally ended. I thanked Geillis profusely and we exchanged numbers before she rushed off for her reiki treatment. Gathering my trench coat and purse, I tried to slink away without calling any further attention to myself.

“Ms. Beauchamp!”

I cursed under my breath, then turned to face him.

“Please, call me Claire. After I nearly burned down your place of business, we should probably be on a first name basis.”

Jamie chuckled. It sounded more natural and lived-in than his earlier response to Laoghaire, but I was likely fooling myself.

“Och, wha’s a cooking demonstration wi’out a wee bit of drama. Will ye be joining us next week? We’ll be making ceviche, sae I willna need tae put the fire brigade on stand-by.”

“Bastard,” I replied to his cheeky smirk. “Alas, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a cook. It appears to be the one science I can’t master.”

“Cooking isna a science, Claire,” he explained with sincere intensity. “Tis an art. Perhaps tha’s the root of yer struggle.”

“Perhaps it is. But in that case, I may as well give up now. I haven’t an artistic bone in my body.”

His languorous perusal of said body lit a different kind of flame in my belly. Geillis was right; he really was a dozen kinds of yes.

“I canna say as I agree. Come back any time if ye’d like tae try again.”

I blushed, thoroughly discomfited by his blatant flirting. He knew about Frank. He’d fled from him onto my fire escape, for Christ’s sake! Maybe when you looked like James Fraser, every interaction with a woman was merely a chance to hone your craft. Or maybe he was truly ignorant of his effect.

“I’ll take that under advisement. Thank you again, Jamie.”

“Until the next time, Arsonist.”

#my writing #outlander #ginger snap

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the-iron-orchid · 3 years

Text

BOOK VI: THE LOVERS

Chapter 4: The Aqueduct (~5000 words)

Warnings: Blood, injury, bad language from a bird, mild masochism :P

Notes: Marcus Aquila Summanus belongs to @vesuvian-disaster and appears with permission!

(back to table of contents)

The clatter and screeching of the lift sounds from beyond as I strip off the safety gear and hand it back to Valdemar, not giving them a chance to assist. A familiar voice bounces down the rough hallway as I push open the big metal door.

“Jinana! There you are.”

The sight of Marcus Aquila fills me with a relief so intense that I nearly stumble. Valdemar’s voice floats over my shoulder, asking if the shipment has been taken care of.

“Yes, Quaestor. And Portia was just asking after the Inquisitor.” Ey looks at me pointedly.

“Ah, yes. Well, we are done here… for now.”

The Praefectus takes my elbow, ushering me back to the lift with some haste. Ey sends me up first, following directly after.

“What was it you said... eccentric?” ey says drily as we walk toward the passage to the library, and I snort. “I guess you didn’t even have to ask for the Dungeon of Death tour. Did they make you dress up in an apron and mask, too?”

“They insisted. Very nostalgic for them, it seems.” It’s honestly a lot funnier here and now, away from that dreadful presence.

“It would be.” We step out into the library, and the shelf slides closed behind us once more. “Portia really was asking after you. She said she would be in her garden for a while - it isn’t far from here.”

Before I can inquire about this, a voice comes faintly through the window. “Look, you little bastard, I need to get in there!”

Marcus Aquila glances at me with barely-smothered amusement. “Mister Shitbird strikes again, it seems.”

“You are really trying my patience!” It’s definitely Portia, arguing (presumably) with the yet-unseen Camio.

“I think I can find the way,” I tell the Praefectus, struggling not to laugh myself - being away from that awful place below the Palace has left me mildly giddy.

“Go from the veranda, and around the hedge maze. It’s a tad quicker.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And… the more I find out, the more I think you are right about this. For what it’s worth.”

Marcus Aquila smiles a little. “I would bet my family name that Devorak did not set the Count on fire… but that he probably did try to put him out.”

I laugh before I can stop myself. “Well. I just hope that everyone will be able to rest a little easier once this is settled.”

“As do I. Good luck, Jinana.”

I know my way around well enough to quickly arrive at the veranda (empty), and continue out past the hedge maze. There seems to be some sort of impasse going on, with Portia alternately beseeching to be allowed into her shed and promising to roast her opponent for supper.

“HOW DARE YOU! DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?”

The sound is shrill, piercing the ears, clearly that of a bird mimicking a human.

“You’re about to be a meal for Pepi, is what you are!”

Nestled among the trees that line the outer edges of the gardens, I see a humble little cottage, ringed by a flourishing garden that threatens to swallow it whole. There is a work shed perched nearby, upon which perches in turn a brilliant white cockatoo, strutting, screeching, and snapping at Portia whenever she tries to wave it away.

“Oooh, that’s it, Mister Shitbird! I warned you! Get ‘im, Pepi!”

A pudgy little cat with brown markings at face, legs, and tail scrambles up to Portia’s shoulder, launching itself toward the menacing bird. This, finally, seems to be too much for the creature, who suddenly wings away, almost clipping Portia in the process.

“They’ll never forget me! They’ll never survive without me!”

“Get lost, you horrible thing!” Portia calls after it, stamping her foot. Spotting me, her face goes pink. “Oh! Sorry about that... that bird has lost his tiny mind, and he likes to make it my problem.” She sighs and adjusts her apron. “Anyway, welcome to my little abode! Mind the grasp-gourds, they’re full of it today, and the lavender mint can be overly friendly.” Even as she speaks, a stray vine seems to be slowly circling her ankle, and she kicks it away.

“Marcus Aquila said you were looking for me?”

“Oh, yes! Pardon me while I do a little work here, I like to use my midday break to tend the garden.” She opens the now uncontested shed and pulls out a hoe, attacking the weeds with a will. I’ll never know where she gets so much energy.

Meanwhile, the cat is circling my legs, bumping me and making curious peeping noises until I bend down to scratch its furry little head.

“Pepi can be very demanding,” Portia says, laughing. “Don’t let her bully you!” She attacks a stubborn clump of sedge with the hoe. “I just wanted to know your plans for the afternoon, in case you needed me for something.”

She smiles, and once again I feel a small twinge of guilt for adding to her workload. I wonder if Nadia has found something else to take off of her plate - assuming that Portia herself will allow it.

“Just investigating,” I assure her. “The Praefectus has given me a lot to put together. Ey knew your brother, you know.”

Portia’s eyes widen in shock. “I - well, I guess that makes sense, but… of course, Marcus Aquila doesn’t know about me.”

I would not bet upon that, myself - ey is too good at piecing things together. “For what it’s worth… ey seems very convinced of his innocence.”

She pauses, leaning on the hoe for a moment, and presses briefly at the bridge of her nose as if to forestall tears. When she looks at me again, her eyes are glimmering with them, but she blinks them back. “That… actually makes me feel a lot better, Jinana. Thanks for telling me.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Portia. I promise.”

We speak of smaller things until it’s time for Portia to return to her Palace duties. The untamed garden yields a bounty of sweet sun-warmed fruits for us to share as a snack. We walk back together, until our paths must diverge - I need to investigate that strange run-off, and quickly. I would much prefer to bring a full report to Nadia, rather than interrupting her preparations for the Masquerade just to tell her I saw something odd.

I think I know how to get back to that rear corner of the Palace from here... it’s just a bit of a walk through less-orderly portions of the gardens. Fortunately, today’s outfit is more practical than a sari - though I tuck the various jewels I am wearing into my bag, just in case. It wouldn’t do to lose any of them amid the tall grasses.

Approaching from the other side, I see the evidence before the odor of rot can reach me - a river of browned grass, even a couple of sickly-looking trees. As I get closer, I see the stream that Marcus Aquila spoke of… but it is crimson, dyed through by the foulness.

Misgiving growing in the pit of my stomach, I follow the course of the stream with my eyes. Quite naturally, it flows toward the city - but to where? I have to find out.

The back of my neck tingles with the sudden, intense sensation of being watched, and I whip about - but see nothing. No ghostly goat-form, no red eyes.

Be on your guard… but do not give him your fear. He doesn’t deserve it.

I inhale, exhale. It’s just a specter anyway, a sad remnant of a dead man. There is very little that such a presence can do, especially with one’s wits about one. And under normal circumstances, such remnants cannot go terribly far from their home territory - in this case, most likely the Palace grounds.

Keeping the stream within sight, but staying clear of its aura of decay, I begin following it down.

The Palace is perched upon a sort of rocky cliff overlooking the city. The many streams that supply Vesuvia’s water converge and flow downward through the massive stone aqueducts. This one is no different.

I pause at the point where the rugged stream transitions to smoothly carved stone. It’s quite a vantage point - all of Vesuvia is laid out before me, as if in miniature. I can see countless rooftops and canopies, gondolas in the canals, people about their business in the streets.

And I can see the scarlet water wending its way down to them, like a wound, like an ill omen.

The aqueduct is more than wide enough for me to travel along it, as those who maintain these structures do. I am not particularly afraid of heights... but the prospect is still somewhat daunting.

We need to know where this goes, what harm it is causing. Grasping my resolve, I step out onto the aqueduct bridge.

A shadow passes over, dark wings against the afternoon sky. It’s a large raven, extremely common here in Vesuvia, perhaps attracted by the shiny embroidery of my tunic. It circles back, swooping lower, mildly concerning me.

And then it lands directly on my shoulder, talons lightly gripping the fabric of tunic and dupatta. It peers at my face with one night-black eye, then the wicked beak opens - but only to preen at my collar. (I am glad that I put the shiny jewelry away.) The raven seems agitated, its feathers puffed up, but it is making no aggressive move toward me. I’m not sure what to do.

“Uhm...?”

Once again, the beak opens. “That FUCKIN’ guy!”

This is so unexpected that I break into laughter, and the raven takes off, flapping away and down amongst the buildings.

I wonder if it is the same one I have seen before - but then, Vesuvia is full of ravens, grown large on the easy pickings of a city. It’s not hard to believe that someone might have taught one hilarious obscenities.

I continue to follow the aqueduct as it curves around the outer city, encompassing the land that is not part of any district, but is where Vesuvia inters her dead. (Or was... until the Red Plague overwhelmed both capacity and gravediggers.) I dare not rush, lest I lose my footing, so my journey takes some time. The sun is setting as I come to a sharp turn in the aqueduct’s path, even as another, lower one comes alongside from the west. Taking a moment to survey my surroundings, I can see where this goes.

South End. I recall the sluggish, clogged canals, the murky reddish-brown water.

Dread grows within my guts as I follow the turn, the inexorable flow of the poisoned water into one of the most vulnerable parts of the city. I think of the rough channel through which the runoff reaches the stream, and I can only wonder if that is intentional.

But who would do such a thing? The Quaestor? Someone else? Someone, perhaps, looking to foment unrest and undermine Nadia’s rule by poisoning the citizens?

If so, they’re not being especially sly about it.

Darkness gathers in the streets as the sun sinks, and soon I will have to use my magical lights to navigate - unfortunately also acting like a beacon for my location. But it is better than falling off of the aqueduct, which is still a good 15 feet in the air. As I approach South End, its squatly stacked buildings rising up before me, the aqueduct crosses over a reservoir of sorts, into which the majority of the water empties some distance down.

“Jinana?”

This startles me so much that I nearly do lose my footing. A tall, broad, very familiar form in black seems to coalesce before me - how does he do that? I didn’t notice him at all.

“Julian!”

He’s standing right at the edge of the aqueduct, and as he turns I spot something very white in his gloved hands - the beaked mask of a Plague doctor. Recovering from his shock, he eyes me in the dimness.

“Fancy seeing you here, of all places. Not exactly suitable for a little evening stroll, is it?” He looks aside from me, down into the water. The color can no longer readily be seen; it is only murky.

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I - er, well, you’ve got me there. I suppose I was just… thinking. Life’s a strange, fickle thing, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think I’d be standing so close to the water if I were you.”

“Oh, no, it can’t hurt me. You probably shouldn’t go for a nice swim in it, though. Or drink it. Fortunately, everyone here with any sense boils their water. The Plague itself might be over, but some contaminated places still remain. It can still make people sick, or even kill, but it ends itself with them. Isn’t it amazing? They figured out how to beat it… or maybe we just outlasted it in the end.”

He looks down at the mask in his hands. “And I couldn’t do a damned thing, then or now.”

“There’s always a need for doctors,” I point out.

“Certainly… but not a failed doctor with a price on his head.” He gives a short, bitter little laugh, then spreads his arms wide with a dramatic flourish. The action causes his hair to skid into his eye, forcing him to shake it aside with a toss of his head. “So this is what’s left. Me, throwing away everything I used to be, my last link to a past I don’t remember, and can’t reclaim. Ah, well.” He tosses the mask into the water, the pink tinge becoming visible as it swallows the white mask. Around it, the water comes briefly alive as long, pallid forms writhe around the fallen object, then fall away when they find it inedible.

Vampire eels. The horrible things really do seem to have established themselves in any sizable body of fresh water here in Vesuvia.

“Julian…” I begin, unsure what I should say. I am cut off by a sudden screech, one I’ve heard before -

A big raven dives between us, nearly colliding with me in its haste. It must be the same bird, the one from the tavern, and perhaps from earlier today.

“Best be going, there’s guards afoot. Come on!” He turns and dashes down the access bridge that connects to the street levels, taking the shallow stairs three at a time with his long legs.

Even as I start to follow, something gives me a sudden, sharp shove. As close to the edge as I am, I cannot recover. The last thing I see as I fall is two glowing red eyes at the height of a man, alight with wicked glee.

The water is so cold, so dark, and so deep, the impact taking my breath from me. I struggle weakly to find the surface, the lip of the reservoir - I was not far from it. But my movement is not the only one here, and something smooth and strong slips by me… before latching on to my side, with a dreadful pain.

I hear my name, in the strange way one hears things underwater, then feel my wrists manacled by something… two gloved hands, pulling me and the creature which has attached itself to me up out of the water. The eel wriggles, its translucent-pale body suffusing with red as it drains me.

“On three, then. One, two…” On three, Julian expertly grasps the vampire eel behind its horrible head, releasing its jaws from my flesh with a fresh shock of pain. He tosses the animal back into the water, then assists me to rise.

“Easy, now. I’ve got you. We have to go.”

Gasping, stumbling, freezing, I can barely hold myself up as he half-drags me, leaving bloody puddles in my wake. They sparkle briefly with rainbow lights that quickly vanish - the wild magic escaping from me with my lifeblood. I have very little control over it right now.

Shivering helplessly, I can barely even hold on to Julian’s arm. Noticing this, he simply picks me up and dashes into the deeper shadows of an alleyway, where he lays me down and inspects the injury.

“I’m sorry, but I need to see the bite.” I am barely conscious enough to even notice as he lifts my sopping wet tunic. His hands probe gently at the wound, making me suck in my breath at the pain.

“That’s, um... well, no time to worry about why you seem to be bleeding out little stars.”

I wonder if this is how I will die… in a dark alley, with a (falsely?) convicted killer frantically attempting to stanch an eel bite on my belly while wild magic escapes my body with my blood. I wish I had the energy to laugh.

“Damn it all. They have an anticoagulant in their saliva. The bleeding isn’t going to stop.” He sits up, stripping off his gloves, scowling. Upon the back of his left hand, the black brand of a murderer is stark against his pale skin. His right hand presses directly to the wound - cold, at first, then burning like ice.

He admonishes me to hold still; I have little choice. “Take slow, deep breaths.” His left hand slides up to gently support my head, so it is not pressed to the hard stones.

Suddenly, I realize that the pain has melted away; my body, no longer needing to be clenched around it, relaxes.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” I manage to say, surprising a short, sharp bark of laughter from him.

“If you can talk back, you can get up. Slowly.” The back of his cool hand presses to my brow, then he helps me to sit up. The blood loss makes my head swim, but I grit my teeth and manage not to black out.

“At least you didn’t catch me breaking and entering,” he says, with a wry smile. “This time. You did surprise me, though. I’d say you’ve got some kind of luck… but you are a magician.”

My eye is drawn to a soft, white light emanating from where his collar stands open - I can just make out a mark of some kind, shining under the skin. Its form is familiar; I saw it only hours ago.

Julian frowns, seeing the direction of my gaze. “Recognize your master’s handiwork?” he asks.

What?

It’s then that I notice that the side of his own jacket is wet - not with water, but with blood, which comes away on his hand as he touches it gingerly.

“A parting gift, I suppose. A curse. I can take the wounds from others… as I just did for you. But in return, I get to suffer them myself.” He swallows thickly, swaying slightly. I reach out to steady him, unthinking - he is almost twice my size. “Don’t worry, it won’t last. Nothing does.” A pained grimace. “A suitable curse from a witch who fears commitment, no?”

This is like no work of Asra’s I have ever seen… and he is hardly someone who fears commitment, I think. Not when he took care of me for so long.

“But then, I’ve never been bitten by a vampire eel before, so this will be… interesting.”

“Interesting?” My head is clearing now; it seems that whatever magic afflicts him, it takes all effects of the wound away, including those of blood loss. How bizarre. He allows me to open his jacket, peeling his shirt from the seeping wound. Gathering my magic, I clean the blood away, allowing me to get a better look at it. It isn’t pretty, and more blood quickly obscures it. But it isn’t flowing the way it did when I was wounded; it’s sluggish, slowing even as I watch.

“Fate just keeps finding new ways to test the limits of this body of mine,” he says, looking down at the wound. “Not nearly as much fun as the ways I’ve come up with on my own, mind.”

“Oh, really?” I arch a single brow at him, and he gives me that incorrigible grin.

“Absolutely.”

“Then I suppose that is interesting,” I answer, and his grin broadens.

“It certainly can be, if -”

He does not get to finish this statement; footfalls echo, all too near. The city guard are making their rounds.

Julian gives a low curse in a language I do not recognize, snatching up his gloves in one hand and my own wrist in the other, pulling me bodily into a dark, narrow alley. He crowds up against me, boxing me in, and I realize that he is attempting to hide me from view behind the blackness of his greatcoat and the shadow of his own body.

Pressed together like lovers, we wait in silence. I can feel him shivering slightly, his breathing quick and harsh with exertion and pain.

The guards arrive in a jangling of armor and the thud of boot-heels, and I feel Julian’s body tense against mine. But they pass us by.

We wait a bit longer to be certain they have gone. Surreptitiously, I summon enough of my magic to dry our unpleasantly wet clothing. In the darkness, I feel the fringe of Julian’s hair brushing the top of my head as he bends down.

“If they catch us,” he says quietly, “say I’ve taken you hostage.”

There’s a sound near the alley entrance, and in a flash, Julian drags me out the other side at a dead run, only slightly slowed by the weaving evasions we take through alleys and behind precariously stacked houses. But his stride is so much longer than mine, I’m hard-pressed to keep up, and I nearly stumble several times.

Then I see it - a rusty wrought-iron gate, with an equally-rusty padlock and chain holding it closed. Behind, an overgrown garden runs riot between two leaning buildings.

I tug Julian’s hand sharply, and he glances back. Spotting the garden, he seems to have the same thought. He lifts me up by the waist without preamble, and I scramble over the gate, dropping to the ground with an ungainly thud. Julian lands next to me, light as a cat, and pulls me into the cover of a thicket of vines, once again using his greatcoat to obscure me. Booted feet go past at a run, and he presses a cool finger to my lips, despite my saying nothing.

When the street outside has been still long enough to suit him, he rises, assisting me in turn, checking me over for further injuries as I look around. It feels otherworldly here, a place lost to time, folding us into a deep, dense silence. Most likely, it is a place abandoned during the Plague Times, and never reclaimed. Choking ivy obscures the statuary, making beasts of men and monsters of beasts, spilling from the fountain as water does not. Rampant tree roots have heaved up the flagstones, making for a treacherous surface.

Julian pulls his gloves back on and picks his way around these obstacles, admiring the sights. He is definitely not moving like a man who has sustained a serious injury. “Look at all of this!” His voice is pitched low, not to carry outside the garden walls. “What a perfect little sanctuary. I wonder how many more of these there are in the city… neglected, forgotten.” He pauses to admire the statue of what appears to be a minotaur, one horn broken, its powerful body clothed over in ivy. “Why hello there, handsome. Come here often?” He puts an arm around the statue’s massive shoulders with a cheeky grin.

“A little dangerous, don’t you think? It’s not in good repair.”

He leaves the statue and comes back toward me, circling me slightly and striking a pose. “Oh, but you see, I live for danger. I find it positively enchanting.” He grins. “What about you? I don’t think you’d be out here with a wanted fugitive if you didn’t like at least a little danger.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“You suppose?” A teasing grin, which fades into something more serious. “But do you know what you’re getting into, I wonder? You’re smart and you’re brave, sure… but will those qualities see you through?”

Through what? I sense a different dimension to his question, thinly veiled.

“Do I have to know? Isn’t it the mystery that makes things exciting?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that’s the most exciting thing… but I suppose it doesn’t hurt. Though I don’t mind a bit of that, either.”

I eye his side, where the bloodstained patch is only visible by its wetter sheen. “Is that what makes your ability a curse? The pain?”

“Oh, no. One becomes well-acquainted with pain in my line of work. Intimately so.” He places a certain stress on the word, with a smile that borders on the lascivious.

Again, that thing stirs within me, the unknown part of me that seems to always rise to his bait. But is it really so unknown?

Julian’s brows go up suddenly. “Ah… hold still.”

I obey this unexpected order, worried that the guards have returned. But he simply reaches out for something that has fallen upon my shoulder - a strange flower, luminous in the dark. Looking up, I realize that there are many of them, like stars in the canopy above, shedding a gentle bluish light. He offers the bloom to me with a theatrical little bow, the smirk once more curling his lips.

But as I stretch out my hand, he twitches the flower back toward himself, curls bouncing as he shakes his head.

“Lovely, isn’t it? But it has a dark heart. Like almost everything here; this is a poison garden. They were all the rage before the Plague.”

He’s right; almost every plant I lay eyes on is baneful - belladonna, foxglove, castor, hemlock.

He twirls the flower in his long fingers. “This one is called deadly starstrand for a reason. The toxin distilled from these flowers is so powerful that a single drop can kill. It doesn’t discriminate - from tyrants to martyrs, from innocent babes to infamous criminals, it has taken them all. In the wrong hands, it could topple an empire.”

I am unfamiliar with it, but I feel that I am entirely familiar with the game he is attempting to play as he once more offers the flower to me, its glow reflected in his eye as he watches me avidly.

“Do you still want it?” he asks, and once again I feel that deeper undercurrent. I watch him steadily as I pluck the bloom from his fingers, lifting it to my nose. It has a strange, acrid scent, at odds with its ethereal beauty.

“The poison has to be distilled, you said.” I smile. “It cannot hurt me.”

He blinks. “I suppose not… though I wouldn’t eat it, if I were you.”

I laugh and let the bloom fall from my fingers, but Julian snatches it back up with deft hands, stepping close to tuck it into my hair. “Beautiful,” he says, his touch following the shell of my ear, along my jawline, his leather-clad thumb daring to trace over the edge of my lower lip.

That inner thing is clamoring within me now, demanding that I act, take control… dominate. I don’t know how much longer I can push it down, not when Julian insists on provoking me like this.

Does he even know? (He must.) His eye looks down on me, flicking between my own eyes and the vicinity of my mouth. Even in the dim light of the fingernail moon, the stars and the glowing flowers above, I can see the flush on his cheeks. The very tip of his tongue flicks out to nervously wet his lips, an unspoken question.

For an answer, I reach up and take hold of his collar, pulling him down to me, and touch my lips to his. It is a fragile, hesitant thing, despite the authority of my grip - this is not something I have done, not in my memory. But his eye flutters closed, his hand sliding up the back of my neck, and my heart begins to race despite myself. His lips caress mine in turn, with a sureness that can only draw me with it. My hands unconsciously clutch at his jacket, forgetful of the wound he took from me.

Julian moans against my mouth - not exactly a sound of pain - and I can feel him shudder under my hands.

He breaks from me, looking down on me with something like desperation. “Jinana…” He takes a step back - but stumbles on the uneven flagstones, fetching up against the crumbling fountain with a grunt.

I advance on him, coming right up to stand between his bent knees, his head only a little higher than mine like this.

“Let me help you with that.” I pass my hand over his side, using my magic to leave his shirt and jacket clean and innocent of blood once more. Experimentally, I press my palm against the area of the wound, to see if any more blood soaks through. It does not… but Julian makes a strange little sound.

“You like that,” I say, and it is not a question. In response, his hand comes up over mine, pressing it harder yet, and he sucks in his breath, catching his lower lip between his teeth. I tangle the fingers of my free hand into the curls at the nape of his neck, and he goes utterly pliant, not resisting at all as I bring him back to me. He parts his lips slightly in anticipation, whispering my name, his other hand coming around my waist to pull me closer -

The sound of hobnailed boots on the cobblestones outside shatters this moment. With a muffled curse, Julian clamps his hand around my wrist, and we vault over the dilapidated rear wall, once again on the run through the night-dark streets.

#the arcana rewrite #arcana rewrite: tides of chaos #jinana aditya #Marcus Aquila Summanus #Quaestor Valdemar #portia devorak #julian devorak

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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98. I’ve been hired to kill you, but you don’t seem that concerned???

Super/vigilante/mercenary au? I feel like it would be really cool if one of them has known the other’s secret identity for a while but doesn’t have anything against them. The two have also been becoming /close/ friends with mutual pining, so the hit is actually just a good excuse to reveal their identity before asking them out. Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I tried to work in as much of this as I could

Content warning for mentions of guns and mentions of death

It’s a dark and stormy night, because of course it fucking is.

Indrid steers the borrowed car down the street, rain hammering the car while his heart tries chiseling it’s way from his chest. He doesn’t want to be here, circling the block like a shark on a reef, the light from the top floor, left corner of the apartment building telling him there’s no pretending his prey isn’t home. He doesn’t want to think about the instructions he burned, the lethal object hidden in his clothes.

He doesn’t want to kill Duck Newton.

“Excuse me, but I have a rather odd question; which of these trails is the least traveled?”

The ranger looks up from the map between them, grin friendly and a little lopsided, “Lookin to do some birdwatchin or somethin?”

“I like to draw but I, ah, I also get easily overwhelmed by crowds.”

“Try this one” The man circles a trailhead, “not super popular this time of year. Watch out for mud.”

“I shall, thank you.”

He didn’t.

Which is why he’s back in the visitor center, trying to get enough of the mud off so that driving home isn’t miserable. Worse, the ranger from earlier walks in, takes one look at him, and snickers.

“I tried! Truly, I was careful, but there was this-”

“Patch of stones in the trail?”

“...Yes. How did you know?”

“Fell flat on my ass two days ago thanks to them. Wait here a sec.” The door swings shut, then opens again while Indrid is rinsing mud from his glasses. The ranger holds out a packet of body wipes, “this’ll get the worst of it.”

“Thank you ranger...Newton.”

That same smile, reaching a pair of mismatched eyes, “Just call me Duck. It’s a nickname.”

Indrid parks in a spot far from any streetlights or cameras, pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and starts towards the apartment complex.

“These are fascinating.” Indrid peers over the edge of the dock at the early blooming bulbs.

“Glad you like ‘em, thought they might be alley after you showed me those drawings of the marsh.”

He imagines Duck seeing the flowers on his rounds and thinking not of the seasons, the weather, the way their petals look near the water, but of him. It’s the sweetest thought anyone’s ever spared for him.

The lobby door opens easily, courtesy of the copy of the keycard left in his mailbox. He knows he should take the stairs; fewer people use them.

He calls the elevator.

“Duck? The sign on the door is, that’s just temporary right?”

“Nope.” Duck sets his hat on the counter, runs a hand right through the grey streak in his hair, “they’re closin the whole park until further notice, which is probably gonna be never. Laid all of us off.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay.”

Even Indrid could tell it wasn’t. That from their occasional conversations, Duck’s work was akin to his heart, kept life flowing through him on even the roughest days. The assignment had told him not to worry, that he was almost doing his target a favor, ending a life he wanted over anyway.

Indrid knocks on the door, tossing his options about in his mind as slow footsteps approach. He could do what he was sent here for. Or he could offer Duck Newton something to brighten his days.

The door opens, Duck standing there in boxers, a plain white t-shirt, and a confused expression.

“Indrid? Jesus, come in, you're fuckin soaked. This is some storm.”

“At least it will help with the drought.” Indrid closes the door, slips off his shoes, lets Duck take his sweatshirt to hang near the heater, angling his body so he won’t see or feel the handgun tucked in his waistband.

“Yeah. Assumin it don’t just mudslide all the hills that lost their cover durin fire season.” Duck sighs, plops down on the couch, “sorry, ain’t exactly in a chipper mood.”

“That’s sort of why I came to see you. I, ah, I wanted to see how you were getting on after the park closing.”

Duck gestures to the messy apartment, then at himself.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you got enough money to reopen the park indefinitely.”

He chuckles, “I wish I did.” He picks up a small, wooden ship, “goodness, did you make this?”

“Yep. Know it’s an old man hobby but, uh, I dunno. I just like makin stuff. Putting things into the world, even if it’s just a model ship on the shelf or a mint plant on the windowsill.” His smile is tired, but there’s a determination to it that makes up Indrid’s mind for him. He’s about to make his offer when Duck adds, “mind grabbin me some water since you’re closer to the kitchen? Cups are in the middle cabinet.”

“Of course.” Indrid crosses into the small kitchen, mind wandering to what their first date will entail as he sets his hands on two glasses.

The cold metal at the base of his neck hurtles him back to earth.

“Someone set you up, slim.”

“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Duck’s hand goes instantly to Indrid’s gun, pulling it free and tossing it away before roughly patting him up and down. The barrel on his skin never wavers.

“Duck, please, I, I can explain.”

“No need to. Thought you seemed familiar, went diggin and found out who you work for. Bet you thought I hadn’t seen your nine mil, but I ain’t lived this long by bein careless.”

“I don’t understand. The file they gave me didn’t say anything about this.”

A bitter chuckle, “Wasn’t always a ranger, slim. The fact they didn’t tell you that makes me think they’re hopin I off you, not the other way around.”

“But, but I didn’t do anything.” The crack in his voice is why he was never cut out for this, he told them that, over and over again.

“And you ain’t gonna.”

“Duck please I, I wasn’t going to do what they told me.”

“If your bosses are who I think, then helpin me would be a goddamn death wish on your part.”

“It would have been worth it. One date with you would have been worth whatever they did to me if they caught me after I ran.”

“That’s mighty funny” the barrel disappears, and the ghost of a kiss takes it’s place, “I was busy weighing whether askin you out was worth the risk of gettin shot.”

Duck sets the Glock on the counter as Indrid slumps against it, turning to find the ranger watching him carefully.

“What do we do now?” He sort of wants him to kiss him, sort of wants to storm out and find whoever thought he could be gotten rid of so easily.

“I say we-” Duck freezes as three, sharp knocks come from the door. He crouches to the floor, Indrid following him. The ranger grabs Indrid’s gun from the floor, whispers, “stay put, follow my lead.” Then he calls, “who is it?”

“I have a package for you to sign for, Mr. Newton.”

“Be right there. Actually” he lowers his voice slightly, “uh, Indrid, you’re right by the door, could you-”

The shot breaks the wood right where Indrid’s head would be. Duck fires two shots, both of them sighing when there’s a tell-tale thump of body meeting carpet.

“Glad yours had the silencer. Buys us some time, but someone is bound to come outta their apartment eventually and find the fucker.”

“Our hitmen also have to report completion within a certain time frame or back-up is sent. And no, I can’t do it for him, it has to be voice contact.” Indrid stands, calmer than a moment ago; this part he knows.

“Good to know. In that case, slim,” he raises an eyebrow, “think it’s time you and I take a vacation.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

“You really got no clue what they’re after you for?” Duck winds them along highway 50 as the sun peers anxiously over the horizon.

“None.” Indrid fishes out the roll of mini doughnuts he bought near Donner Lake, the first place Duck had deemed safe to stop since they left the coast. They’re in his car, Indrid knowing full well the one he borrowed has a tracking device installed, “I’m mostly a numbers man; they give me scenarios and I give them likely outcomes. I, ah, I also helped with clean up, but I suspect they did that when they were annoyed I’d given them what they thought was an inaccurate prediction. I don’t like the aftermath of disasters, even if they’re small. And I was never, ever assigned a hit until last night” He worries a hangnail, “I thought they were satisfied with my work. Even if they weren’t, they could easily do away with me. There was no point in sending me on a fake mission and hoping you’d kill me instead.”

“Unless they got something against me too, which they could.” Duck drums on the wheel, “I, uh, I joined a, uh, guess you’d call ‘em a vigilante group when I was younger. I was eighteen and they recruited me, sayin how there were certain folks who were chosen to protect the world from evil. I avoided it for a few years, but they were persistent, and honestly I thought I could make a difference. That we were just protectin folks who the system didn’t. And we did. Kinda.”

Indrid offers him a doughnut, which he takes and chews before continuing

“Trouble was, not everyone agreed on who needed protectin. It got so convoluted and so goddamn dangerous that I decided I wanted out. Wanted to spend the rest of my life makin things grow, lookin out for the woods, that kinda thing. It almost worked. But if I could go back in time to talk to that kid, I’d tell ‘im there are enemies you can’t unmake, things you can’t undo.”

“Very true.” Indrid murmurs, “I suppose I’d tell myself I did not blame him for throwing in with who he had to in order to survive.”

“Pretty sure that’s what you’re doin’ now, too.”

“No.” Indrid shakes his head, “right now I am on the run with someone I like a great deal.”

Duck flashes him a smile, flips the blinker to turn them into the only sign of civilization for miles; a cluster of buildings calling itself Cold Springs Station. The groggy teen at the counter gives them the key to a cramped cabin.

Indrid tosses his bag--the one he hid in the trunk of the borrowed car, knowing the likely outcome of his visit would involve flight of some kind--down on the right side of the bed, Duck doing the same on the left. It’s only when they’re under the covers, both half-asleep, that he notices he forgot something.

“Drat. I meant to stick something plush in my bag. I, ah” he blushes, “I sleep much better with something to cuddle.”

A strong arm drapes over his waist while Duck tucks his head under Indrid’s head, “how’s that?”

Indrid winds his limbs around him, feeling like a little kid who’s just had his favorite teddy bear returned to him after hours of tearful searching, “perfect.”

------------------------------------------------------

The plan is to weave through the Southwest like a drunk bee before turning North; they need to put off visiting any places with friends or family for as long as they can. They spent a morning on the floor of a run down motel with a map and some pens, marking off the safest routes and places they’d like to visit. Duck picks state parks, Indrid any place likely to have lots of sweet food.

Whenever they stop for the night, they never bother asking for two beds. While they’ve yet to go further, Indrid delights in waking Duck with a kiss on the cheek each morning.

On the Nevada border Indrid spends two hours playing Blackjack, counting cards enough to win several thousand dollars but not enough to get caught. In a pizza place outside of Salt Lake, Duck wins Indrid a stuffed mothman from a claw machine (“just in case you gotta sleep alone some time”).

And fifty miles from Alamogordo, they get into trouble.

Indrid carries his weapon near constantly, but he really didn’t think he needed it at the Motel 6 Breakfast Buffet. When the man waiting for the waffle maker next to him says “outside, Cold, let’s get this over with” he goes still, wishing they’d at least given him time to eat.

Then he hurls his scalding mocha into the man’s face, striking him in the ribs and breaking his nose before he even hits the floor. Orange and red liquid splashes his face, two shots hitting the juice dispenser behind him. The other two assassins don’t get a second chance to fire; Duck takes out one with a chair, jabs the other with the splintered leg, and gathers both their guns with an ease that Indrid admires.

As they’re sprinting for the parking lot, Indrid slapping an extra two hundred dollars on the lobby desk in apology, he realizes admiration doesn’t quite capture his feelings. Duck is so calm in the face of danger, so commanding, and so very, very...hot.

The moment he allows himself that thought is the moment he dooms his focus for the remainder of the day. He contributes to the planning of their next stop, to driving and watching the mirror for cars that follow for too long, but his mind is back in the dining room, hoping Duck will turn the fire in his eyes onto Indrid, bend him over the beige table and take him while the people who tried to hurt them whimper and bleed on the floor.

“‘Drid? I’m gonna go shower, didn’t get a chance this mornin. You wanna scope out dinner?”

“Of course, but I fear it might be the vending machine special again.”

“Eh, I can live with that, especially if they got those Oreo packets.” Duck blows him a kiss and shuts the bathroom door.

Duck’s showers are between five and six minutes in length; Indrid’s certain he can get himself off in that time. He slips his pajama pants down, spits in his hand, and pretends the fingers pressing on his neck are not his own. That Duck’s voice is in his ear the same way it was that first night, low and so firm Indrid has no choice but to bend.

“You droppin hints, slim?” Duck leans in the bathroom doorway, towel around his waist.

He bolts upright, pants tangled around his knees, “Nono, I’m, I’m so sorry, I thought you were going to be a few minutes more.”

“Wanted to shave and forgot my dop kit. Now I’m kinda disappointed that I was gonna miss the show.”

“I, ah, I, it doesn’t bother you?”

“Thought we established we were into each other.” Duck’s smile falters, “wait, fuck, if you decided you ain’t I’ll back the fuck off.”

“No!” Indrid crawls to the edge of the bed nearest Duck, not caring how silly he must look, “it’s the opposite, I want you even more now than I did when we started this trip. After this morning I--ah, never mind. The point is, I would very much like to get you into bed sooner rather than later.”

“How about now?”

“Only if you…” Indrid’s brain screeches to a stop as Duck drops his towel. Now he understands where the urge to create phallic sculptures comes from; he wants to preserve this sight for all time.

“Glad you approve.” Duck chuckles, joins him on the bed, “gotta say the, uh, feelin’s mutual.” He slides a hand along Indrid’s dick, gone soft from his alarm, and lets out an approving groan as it hardens against his palm, “that’s it, sugar, get excited for me.”

“If I get any more excited I will explode.”

“Can’t have that, it’s a pain to clean blood off of walls by yourself” a kiss finds his cheek, “you got a preference for how we do this?”

“I, I’d like to, ah, receive. At least for tonight. Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah.” Duck growls, abandoning him on the bed and laughing when he whines, “gimme two seconds, slim, then I’ll take care of you.” Two condoms and a small bottle of lube bonk into Indrid’s foot, “packed those just in case. You’re gonna get one of ‘em out and open yourself up for me while tellin me just what got you so riled up. Shirt off, c’mon, get to it.”

The gruff tone means Indrid is blushing on every inch of skin by the time he’s fully naked. As Duck’s gaze moves over him, all traces of dominance wash away, leaving expression tender when their eyes finally meet.

“Christ, ‘Drid, you look better than ever coulda pictured. Shoulda been bookin more places with pools just to get you shirtless.”

“It’s January, dear.”

“Hot tubs, then.” Duck nudges him onto his back by kissing his shoulder, and the sight of the ranger above him reminds Indrid’s fingers what they should be doing. He fumbles the condom open, gasps when one digit feels like a massive intrusion.

“Easy slim, easy, you’re probably still tense from this mornin.”

“I thought that much was obvious.” Indrid grins as Duck bends to kiss his collarbone.

“It is, so start tellin me what got you so horny you jerked off the first free second you had.”

“It’s a, a bit embarrassing OH, ohthat'snice” he sighs as Duck kisses a slow trail towards his hips, “but I find the moments when you demonstrate a certain...ruthlessness in-incredibly arousing.” He wiggles his hips happily as Duck drags his lips across his belly.

“Keep goin.”

“You’re brave, and calm even when things are awful, and that makes me feel so very safe with you. But then there are those times when I remember how dangerous you could be, AHnnn” the second finger goes in easier than the first, “that when it, it comes down to it you are more seasoned in lethal matters than I am and I, you could render me utterly helpless, have me, use me, hurt me, but instead you offer me more tenderness than I deserve.” He glances down to where Duck’s chin rests on his chest, the ranger’s eyes overflowing with affection.

“You want the gentle me or the rough one tonight?” Duck tucks a strand of Indrid’s silver hair behind his ear.

“Rough.” It’s so quiet he’s amazed Duck hears it.

“Okay. In that case-”

“AHgod!” Indrid’s hand is pulled free as Duck first flips him over and then hauls him onto his knees.

“Hands on the wall. Now.”

Indrid sets his palms on peeling grey paint as foil crinkles behind him. When the head of Duck’s cock rubs his entrance he whimpers, hoping the prep was enough.

“Here’s how this is gonna go; I’m gonna use this cute little ass however long and however hard I want, and you;re gonna keep your hands there the whole fuckin time. You move, or you mouth off, and I shove some fingers in along with my dick just to remind you who’s boss.”

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid rests his forehead on the wall.

“It gets to be too much, say stop.” A kiss to his neck, “much as I wanna ruin you, wanna be good to you even more.”

“Understood. Now please, please fuck meEEEh, ohgoodnessAH, ahhhgod.” He scratches the wall as Duck stretches him open, the prep proving enough but only just and tears pricking his eyes by the time Duck bottoms out.

One hand stays on his hip while Duck’s right arm wraps around his chest, keeping them close, “Fuuuck, now I see what your job was; ass this nice, you were the fuckin cocksleeve for the entire Organization, weren’t you?”

“Not at all” Indrid rolls his hips at the taunt in Duck’s voice, “I was a very valuable asset.”

“Yeah, I’ll say you’re an asset.” A sharp thrust, the menace of which is broken by Duck giggling at his own joke, Indrid hiding his face in his arm to do the same.

“I say in, ahgod, an office all day, no one saw me, I was not h-hired for my looks, I promise you.”

“If you say so. I say it’s their. Fuckin. Loss.” Three thrusts and Indrid’s cock is dripping onto the pillows, and he moans as Duck settles into a demanding rhythm.

“Got another theory for you, slim.”

“D-do tell.” Whether the stammering is from his teeth clacking together or his thoughts being bounced around his brain from the force of Duck pounding into him, he can’t say.

“I think you stuck around as long as you did because you get off on it danger.”

Indrid sucks in a breath, whimpers, “No. I, I was there because I was apprenticed out and, as you knowOH it’s, it’s hard to leave such places.”

Fingers on his throat, pressing but not squeezing, “Liar. Bet you got off at least once a day, let everyone from the hired hits to higher ups cum in you as long as they made you think they could off someone. Oh fuck, heh, you like that?” Duck smirks as Indrid tries to fuck himself in time with the pumps of his hips.

“Yes, goodness, I’d never want it, only want you, but, but the idea is divine.”

“Too bad, because now you’re all mine and anyone who tries to take you is gonna be in for a world of hurt.”

His climax curls in his stomach, begging him to touch himself and free it, but he’s determined to be good.

“Duck, please let me cum, please, it’s so good but I can’t-”

“I’ll help you out sugar, don’t worry. But you gotta do one thing first.” Duck nips his ear, “say you’re my personal toy from now on. C’mon” the fingers on his throat tighten, “say i-”

“I’m yours, I’m your toy, only you can have me, you can do whatever you wish to me and I’ll take it with a smile, anything, sweetheart, please, pleasepleasepleaseAHhhhn.” His cum splatters on the wall, Duck’s hand leaving his dick the instant it does to dig his fingers into both hips and fuck up into him with ecstatic groans.

“That’s it sugar, take it, be good for me and lemme fuck you until you can’t move, ohfuck, fuck, ‘Drid, yes, fuckyes.” He holds him tight as he cums, breath warm against his back. Then he’s pulling out and slumping forward as Indrid falls back into his arms.

“Ooops” he snickers, spotting the cum, “still easier to clean than blood.”

“Indeed.” Indrid bites his lip, “I, that was wonderful but there’s one thing more I would like. Will you kiss me.” He looks over his shoulder to say it. Duck cups his face, turns it so he can bring their lips together. It’s far slower and twice as tender as anything else they’ve done together.

“Can’t believe I forgot to do that until now. Gonna kiss you silly.” Duck kisses him again as Indrid turns in his lap. When he pulls back, his face is serious, “Y’know, it’s easy to be brave and calm when I’m doin’ it for you. You make me feel like I can face any goddamn thing, long as it’s for your sake. That make sense?”

Indrid studies his face in the half-shaded light from the bedside lamp, sees the curves and colors, sees the man he was willing to run away for.

“Yes, sweetheart, it does.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #meet ugly #hitman au #I guess?#assassin au

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darkvveb · 3 years

Text

realities of being mentally and physically ill:

"I'll just lay down for a bit until i feel better." its 11pm and i still havent moved.

my apartment is a disaster, and i mean that in the most literal sense. theres trash everywhere, laundry on the floor, i need to clean the litter box, my sink is full of gross dishes. i cant force myself to do anything about it. sitting in the mess stresses me out and makes me feel sick but i literally cant do it. i feel like a terrible pet owner because i feel like the cats dont have enough room to run around.

i spent over ten minutes the other day curled up under a blanket rocking myself because something triggered my ocd.

i havent showered in a week. when i finally do, i wont shower for another week after that. this has been going on for months.

i forgot to respond to my moms text five days ago. i cant even open it because i feel like its too late now.

there are three bags of trash sitting by my door. i havent taken them to the dumpster for two weeks. i probably wont take them for a while.

the only times that ive eaten a real meal are when ive ordered takeout.

i went to the grocery store last week and got fruit because its my favorite. i didnt wash them that day because i was too tired from going out. i still havent. theyre not any good anymore and need to be thrown out.

i havent brushed my teeth in months. i just cant do it. i feel disgusting. i dont know how to work around this.

ive been living in this apartment for almost two months. im still not unpacked. i dont know if i ever will be.

getting around the house is hard because im in so much pain, but i cant use my wheelchair because theres so much clutter on the floor. i cant clean up the clutter because, you guessed it, im in too much pain.

i just had to quit a job that i absolutely loved because my pain got so bad. i feel awful about leaving but i would have ruined myself by pushing any further.

most of my safe foods are unhealthy. i want to eat better but i cant stand most foods anymore.

im missing most of the skin on my fingers. my fingerprint sensor is struggling to read it.

i have a long list of projects i want to work on. i havent started any of them. i probably never will.

my mother texts me to ask how i am. i tell her im good. next to me, i set my drink down amidst the trash.

i used to be the high school valedictorian. now im a college dropout with a shitty part time job. i feel like my life is falling apart and i dont know if i want to keep it anymore.

every day i lose more of my vision. i dont know how much longer ill be able to drive. once i lose that, ill lose my current job too. i dont know what ill do when this happens.

my knee pain is getting worse. im scared to see a doctor because i worry that ill need surgery. i cant afford surgery. i also cant afford to take time off of work to recover. i put on my knee brace and get dressed for work.

my tics are getting more frequent. theyre happening at work now. nobody has said anything yet. it wont be long until they do.

i spend my days in a haze. i cant remember if that important event happened a day ago or a week ago. i dont know what day it is.

#feel free to add on i guess but if youre going to be a dick do it somewhere else #sorry im really worn out #its flare up time #ive been struggling a lot lately #and i dont know what to do #theres more to add but im too tirwd to even finish this post #personal

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nanbaka-82 · 4 years

Text

No one asked and no one will probably read but here’s songs that remind me of some of my most beloved hypmic boyos (Yes I wrote this at five am and I was being biased) Alert this is very long and shitty don’t read if ya don’t wanna get a brain rot and I advise you not to break your mind before 2nd drb.

Bonus up top:

All Stars + Kotonohoto:

- This Is The Moment - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

CLASSIC LOVE IT KEEP GETTING DRB VIBES

- I’m Ready - AJR

THIS IS LIKE DIVISION ALL STARS VS KOTONOHOTO

Yotsutsuji:

- Three Thirty - AJR

IM NOT SURE ABOUT THIS ONE AT ALL but since he’s a character that we never really got to understand and analyze, or maybe the fact that he was put falsely into his comatose state pains me.

“You start thinking about the clock ticks, you get nervous, you start stressing, so how am I supposed to fit this, in three minutes, and thirty seconds?”

“Listen to my aching heart. Quick before you skip the song. We are human after all. And we. Don’t. Stay. For. Long”

Naughty Dialogue/MCD +:

- Bang - AJR

JUST LOVE THE VIBE

“I’m way too young to lie here forever (IchiKuko) I’m way too old to try so whatever (SamaSasa) so come hang! We’ll go out with a bang!”

- Partners in crime - ft. Ash Costello

The vibe too! Idk I really like it!

- A Bud Like You - AJR

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH IT FITS THEM EVEN MORE HELL YES

Naughty Busters:

- Rope - Kulick

“I keep slipping on down but I can’t let go yet”

Pain

- Kids In The Dark - All Time Low

“They left us alone, the kids in the dark, to burn out forever or light up a spark, we come together, state of the art, we’ll never surrender, so let the the world sing”

More pain but cute

Mad Comic Dialogue:

- I’m Not Ok - Weathers

HHHHH THIS SONG IS ONE OF MY FAVES

“IM JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE FUCKED UP LIKE EVERYONE ELSE”

- Weak - AJR

“But I’m weak, and what’s wrong with that? Boy oh boy I love it when I fall for that” (fall for each other those Lil gay boiz)

- Broken -lovelytheband

“I like that you’re broken broken like me, maybe that makes me a fool?” (sasa)

“I like that you’re lonely lonely like me, I could be lonely with you” (sama)

“There’s something tragic, but almost pure, think I could love you, but I’m not sure” (sama)

“It’s something wholesome, it’s something sweet, tucked in your eyes that I’d love to meet” (sasa)”

- Rose Colored Boy - Paramore

Y e s

- Sober Up- AJR

“Hello hello, I’m not where I’m supposed to be, I hope that you’re missing me, cuz it makes me feel young”

*Cries in SamaSasa*

“Won’t you help me sober up? Growing up had made me numb, and I wanna feel something again. Won’t you help me sober up? All the big kids say I’m drunk and I wanna feel something again. Won’t you help me feel something again... how’s it go again?”

“And I wanna feel something again. I just wanna feel something again. (My favorite color is you)”

“Can I finally feel something again?”

*Cries in SamaSasa again*

Otome (I’m so in it for her):

Dollhouse - Melanie Martinez

Just. Her backstory. Shit.

Fling Posse:

- TMD (Talk Me Down) - R & R

This song just reminds me of the overall relationship between fling posse! I’d make an edit but I’m lazy and sad

- It’s On Us - AJR

(Honestly AJR is my emotional anchor and it’s obvious)

“It’s not your fault you don’t feel safe it’s not your fault so don’t take blame (no it’s on us)”

“We can try together, make it right together, we can fight together, it’s on us, though your trust is stolen, though your heart is broken, you are never broken, it’s on us”

“We know what we need to do we’ll be there it’s not on you”

Now da main course:

Samatoki Aohitsugi:

- Karma - AJR :

THAT PART WHERE ITS LIKE “Where the hell is the karma?” HNGGG

- Can I Get a Witness - Sonreal :

OKAY hear me out:

“I fell in love with you cuz you made me feel, I fell in love with you cuz you kept it real, but you changed up on me, you changed your flow, and now I’ve been hating on you every where I go”

BASICALLY YEAH AND THE REST OF THE SONG TOO

- Honest - Nico Collins

No comment...

- Middle Finger - BOHNES

Oh god I love this song

“But I refuse to let you make me feel like I can’t fly, not only will I soar again, I’ll own the fucking sky”

“Livin like a riot, setting off the sirens, fists are clenched I’m fighting, soul has been ignited, ain’t got time for dying, I’m too busy thriving, more than just surviving, heart is beating violent”

And just so much more, this song reminds of his spirit that no matter how many times it’s been broke down just won’t give up, and I love it

- Little Poor Me - Layto

“I tried hard you know I care, I care, I care, just a little poor me, just a little poor me”

The way he protected what he loved with all his heart, Sasara and Nemu, yet, he still lost them at the end.

Jyuto Iruma:

The Car - Nightly

Idk why it fits him—the feel of it I guess

Ramuda Amemura (maNy but I chose):

- Rabbit Hole - AViVA

Gives me the feel where he drags people down with him but wants to escape

- Hypnotized - AViVA

I DONT EVEN GOTTA FUCKIN SAY IT

“Can’t you see you’re hypnotized? Locked inside those eyes. Now don’t you go out at night, you’ll end up hypnotized”

“Look into my eyes find it so appealing look into my eyes send your body reeling, now you’re hypnotized, drag you down down down”

Gentaro Yumeno:

- The Way - Layto

Not so sure about this one—but

“New Speak, show and tell, this will be my hardest sell, wise men, always say, sadness raps in golden plate”

Reminds me of how he was bullied and unsocial in school, also how his care takers were elders and made him happy

- 100 Bad Days - AJR

“A 100 days made a hundred good stories, a 100 good stories make me interesting in parties”

NSJSBSJJSISS LISTEN IT F I T S

Dice Arisugawa:

- Disaster Party - MAGIC GIANT

FUCKIN-THIS SONG IS SO DICE STFU AND

“You’re a brave heart, but you’re broken, and an Angel, but you’re choking”

THIS REMINDS ME OF HOW DICE SILENTLY ACKNOWLEDGES GENTARO AND RAMUDA BUT DOESNT PUSH INTO THEIR BUSINESS! WHAT A GOOD BOY WE HAVE oh and

“Throw away all your money” hhhhh

- I’m Not Famous - AJR

Reminds me oh how he could have been literal royalty but decided to say fuck it

Hifumi Izanami:

- Echo - Crusher-P

We don’t talk about why I link this to fumi

- Oh oh and there’s this part in Parents - Yungblud, “Hi nice to meetcha! Got nothing to believe in! So tell me when my breathing, stops-“ idk it reminds me of his phobia and past

- Make you Mine - Public The Band

HHHH HES SOFT BBY OKAY

Doppo Kannonzaka:

- Isolate - SubUrban

“Segregated, situated, hanging on, sophisticated, liberated, nauseated, I just want my medication, individuality and blue lights give me headaches, I’m not changing for the better, I’m just changing clothes on weekends”

Need I say more?

- Come Hang Out - AJR

I personally love this one

“Come hang out cuz you’re outta your mind, you’re working so damn hard, you forgot what you like, come hang out, don’t you leave us behind. But, I’ll be there next time”

“Come hang out cuz you’re missing your life”

“Should I go for more clicks this year? Or should I follow the click in my ear?”

I feel like this song is from everyone who cares about him which is also me—

Jyushi Aimono/Hitoya Amaguni:

- Crybaby - Melanie Martinez

ABSOLUTELY NOT SHIPPING but the part where it’s like

“I look at you and I see myself”

Makes me cry because I remember how Hitoya lost his brother to bullying then you have Jyushi so he wants to help the little boy live his life and achieve his goals, unlike his brother, sadly

Sasara Nurude:

- My Play - AJR

Fucking. Just watch the official vid. That’s all. It’s about parent divorce and slaps.

“When I show you my play, will you pretend you didn’t know, if I make a mistake? It’s gonna get really really really really bad, before it’s okay. But maybe you’ll forget it all, while you’re watching my play”

- Rose Colored Boy - Paramore

OHH BOY I WROTE A WHOLE FIC ABOUT THIS ON WATTPAD

- Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

FUNNY FUNNY SONG CLOWN LIKE FUNNY FUNNY

Rei:

- Hushh - AViVA

Fucker got one.

“Hush Hush, keep your pretty mouth shut, hush hush, lose your inhibitions”

- This Ain’t A Scene It’s An Arms Race - Fallout boy

Like HeLL.

“Fitting you with Weapons in the form of words, and don’t really care which side wins, as long as the room keeps singing that’s just the business I’m in”

“I’m not a shoulder to cry on, I digress, I’m a leading man, and the lies I weave are so intricate, oh so intricate”

If you read this then congratulations why the fuck did you waste your time

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #badass temple #mcd #mad comic dialogue #buster bros #fling posse #matenro #matenrou #mad trigger crew #dotsuitare hompo #kotonohoto #naughty busters #party of words

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thebluenebula · 4 years

Text

This just an idea I had for a Batfam story. Batman takes in a new child after they lose everything. I don't have any idea where this story will go or if I'll continue it for long.

Masterlist

Day 2

Day 3

A New Bat Pt1

I stepped out of the limo and looked on at the huge mansion looming over me. "Holy shit."

"Indeed Miss Ashleigh." Alfred had gotten out if the car and was now standing beside me. "You head inside now and I'll grab your bags."

"Let me help you Alfred."

"Nonsense. Master Bruce is waiting for you inside. It's best you go see him immediately."

I nodded to him and walked up to the door. It seemed so much larger now that I was in front of it. I knocked gently on in it. Within a minute the huge door swung open and behind it stood Bruce Wayne.

"Welcome to Wayne Manor, Ashleigh."

I looked in awe at the huge entrance hall.

"Ahsleigh. I'm glad that you are here. I tried to make sure most of the children are out today. I imagine meeting them all at once would be overwhelming."

"Exactly how many people live here?" I asked.

Bruce shrugged and laughed a little. "Honestly I'm not sure. It varies from day to day. At any one time there's usually at least eight people here."

"Jeez."

A voice chimed in from behind. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

I turned to see Alfred walking in the door carrying my bags. "Let me help you with those."

"No need Miss Ashleigh. I see no reason in bringing these any further until you have picked a room."

I turned back to Bruce. "I get to pick a room?"

"Well there's quite a few unused room in the manor. I'll get Dick to show you around and you can choose any of the unused rooms."

"Shall I retrieve Master Grayson?" Alfred asked.

"If you wouldn't mind Alfred." Bruce turned back to me. "Dick is my eldest and between us, he has more common sense then most of my other children."

A moment later Dick appeared out of one of the doors. "Alfred said you're ready for me to show the new kid around." He turned to look at me. " And there she is. Nice to meet you, I'm Dick Grayson."

"The names Ashleigh."

"Well Ashleigh, I'll show you around the place." He motioned for me to follow him.

Bruce placed a hand on my shoulder. "You go with Dick and Alfred will prepare dinner. Any allergies or general dislikes he should know about?"

I shook my head. "No none."

Bruce nodded and I took off after Dick.

"B's happy to take you in. Despite the fact he has like a dozen kids he's still not all that good at this parenting thing but he tries. I mean really how bad could he be. I turned out alright.

Dick showed me around the first floor. It had all the practical everyday rooms you would expect in a house. Kitchen, dining room, living room, etc. We chatted as we went through the rooms. Little fun facts about the manor. When it was built, what extensions had been added, etc. He even told me about himself. How he ended up in Bruce's care. He seemed like a nice guy. I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy it here.

"The second floor is mostly like hobby rooms." Dick said as we climbed the stairs to the next floor. "You got any hobbies?"

"I like to draw."

"Well theres a drawing room, a painting room, a music room, a gym, and a room for just about every other hobby you could have."

"Every hobby?"

"Every." Dick put a lot of emphasis on the word.

"Archery?"

"There's a range in the garden.

"Metalwork?"

"There's equipment for that down in the basement, along with woodworking equipment and the sorts."

"How about a shooting range?"

"There's one down in the cave. Jason kept at B until he had one installed."

The idea of Red Hood bugging Batman until he gave in paints a beautiful image in my head.

Dick pointed to a piece of paper hung on the wall. "Steph insisted on putting these maps around on this floor. There's one in almost every hall. She kept getting lost looking for Cass everytime she took up a new hobby."

I examined the map for a moment. "That's a lot of different rooms.""Yeah, it's B's way of showing interest in what were up to. Any time someone mentions an interest in something he has a room renovated to suit that hobby or interest."

"That sounds awesome." I was slightly in awe.

Dick smirked. "Yeah, one of the many perks of being adopted by a billionaire. Babs once complained about the price of cinema tickets, a week later we had an indoor cinema."

"Guess I should just complain a lot." I joked.

Dick laughed. "Anyway I don't think I need to show you around this floor. The maps should be enough direction. Steph works hard to keep them updated." Dick started up the stairs to the third floor. "This floor is all the bedrooms."

Suddenly a shape jumped down from the floor above and landed in from of me. I jumped back and lost my footing. I land back on the second floor. I opened my eyes to see Dick and the shape, a cat, a fuckin cat running down the stairs to me.

"Are you okay Ashleigh?"

I got to my feet. "I'm fine, just a little bruised." I glared at the cat.

"That is Alfred the Cat. He's a bit mischievous."

I watched the cat run off. "Yeah I think I got that. Any other pets I should know about?"

"Well we have two dogs, Ace and Titus, and Batcow."

"Is Batcow a mix between-"

"No, she's just a cow."

"Okay. Yeah a cow bat hybrid would be ridiculous."

"Well should we tour the next level?" Dick gestured up the stairs.

"Sure."

This time we reached the top of the stairs uninterrupted.

"I can't really show you inside the rooms, cause you know invasion of privacy and all that, but I can show you where my room is if you need me, and I'll show you the empty ones."

We walked down a couple of hallways and then stopped outside a door. Dick pushed the door open. "This is my room."

I looked inside. A large double bed against one wall. Gym equipment in the corner but other than that is was pretty ordinary, A dresses and a wardrobe. A big Tv and one one wall a large poster of The Flying Graysons. "It's nice.

"Thank you. Most of my personal belongs are in my apartment in Bludhaven so it's a little bland here. Theres plenty of empty rooms on this floor but I figure you probably want one with a window."

"That'd be nice"

We spent the next twenty minutes or so going through rooms I could choose but to me they all had the same problem. They were two big. I didn't own a lot of stuff. At least I didn't bring a lot of stuff here with me and the last thing I wanted was to be in a big empty room. Eventually we came to a smaller room. I took one step in side and it felt warm. Welcoming even. I turned to Dick. "What about this one?"

"You sure this ones okay? It's a lot smaller than some of the other ones."

"Yeah, its enough room for me." I smiled at him.

"Okay then. Remember you can always change to another one later if this one doesn't suit. I'll have Alfred bring your stuff after dinner."

"I'll bring them up. I'm sure Alfred is busy enough."

Dick smirked. "I think Alfred will like you. Dinners probably nearly ready. You can chill here for a while or wonder around. Just come down to the dining room soon. If you can remeber where it is."

I giggled. "Im sure I'll find it."

He left and I just stood there. Thinking. A month ago my life was completely different but after today everything changes. I smiled out the window. It overlooked the huge back garden. Honestly if I was just passing by the outside I'd assume this place was a hotel. I guess I should go down for dinner. Today is the beginning of a new life.A few flights of stairs and a couple wrong turns later I was in the dining room. The huge table was empty bar Dick sitting near the top.

I sat down across from him. He looked over to me. "Dinner might be another couple of minutes." Looked around to make sure no one else was in the room. "Apparently B tried to help Alfred. Which always ends in disaster."

"Not always." Bruce's voice chimed in from the other side of the room.

Dick flinched at the sound of the voice. "Piece of advice. If you ever talk bad of B, he usually pops up behind you."

Bruce laughed a little and took his seat at the head of the table. "Alfred is just finishing up the meal and will be joining us soon. I hope you enjoy spaghetti bolognese Ashleigh."

"One of my favourites."

"Trust me." Dick chimed in. "Alfred is the best cook in the world."

"While it may not be quite as good as Master Dick says it is most certainly above average." Alfred said as he walked into the room carrying a tray.

"Humble as ever Alfred." Bruce smiled.

"Of course Sir."Alfred set the tray down on the table and began to head back out of the room.

"Won't you be joining us Alfred?" Bruce asked.

Alfred stopped and turned to us. "Of course Sir." He took a seat next to Dick.

"So Ashleigh, have you chosen a room yet?" Bruce asked as he ate.

I had a mouth full of food. Typical. Silence for a second as I swallowed it. "Yes, it's one at the back. It looks over the garden. It lovely out there."

"She actually picked one of the smallest rooms." Dick pointed out.

"Huh." Bruce seemed intrigued. " I don't think anyone has deliberately picked a small room before." He then points to Alfred. "The garden is for the most part Alfred's work."

"It's a nice way to keep myself busy on my days off." Alfred commented.

Dick looked over to me. "Saturday and Sunday are Alfred's days off. Though he does usually still cook those days."

"Yes. Cooking is another thing I find to be relaxing." Alfred then glared over at Dick. "And if I didn't this manor would have burnt to the ground years ago.

"We're not that bad Alfred."

"Shall I tell Miss Ashleigh about the time-"

"No."

"Or perhaps-"

"No Alfred, that's quite alright." Dick turned to me. "Okay so maybe there's a reason most of us are banned from the kitchen.

I giggled and from the head of the table table Bruce let out a small chuckle."

Both Alfred and Dick stared at Bruce for a moment before they began to chuckle themselves. The rest of the dinner went by with lots of chatting and laughing.

"Alfred, delicious as always." Dick complimented the food as he took the last of it up in his fork.

"Thank you Master Dick." Alfred stood up from the table and gathered all the empty plates. "Now if you dont mind, I must tend to the dishes."

Dick stood up. "I'll help you Alfred. You should give Ashleigh a heads up about tommorow B."

Bruce nodded to him as the two left the room.

I looked to Bruce slightly concerned. "What happens tommorow?"

"Nothing serious. Dick just meant all the people that'll be around."

"Oh, how many people?"

Bruce shrugged. "Honestly I'm not sure. As I said it varies. Probably at least four, but it could be like ten. My guess is quite a few. Once they know theres a new person in the house im guessing most of them will come around for a while hoping to meet you."

"Oh." I was slightly worried at the thought of meeting so many people.

"I've warned them not to swarm you. My guess is they'll 'bump' into you across the day. Probably in groups of one or two."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"I'd warn you about each of them individually but i think its best you learn about them each yourself. Also ever door in this manor can be locked. If you need some time alone."

I nodded and stood up from the table. "Thank you. I should probably head to bed early after the flight. Jetlag and what not.Goodnight. If you need anything dont be afraid to ask."

"Of course. Goodnight."

I walked back to the entrance and grabbed my bags. I went up to my room, only taking one wrong turn this time. It took awhile to fall asleep but eventually it came to me.

I sat up. I was sweating. It was still dark outside. I stood up and threw on my clothes from yesterday. "It was just a dream, just a dream." I took a moment to settle my self. "Now where was that bathroom Dick showed?"

A couple of minutes of aimless wandering later and I found it. After I had emptied my bladder and washed the sweat off my face I headed back to my room. I approached the door when I saw two men walk out of my room. "Dick?"

"There you are." Dick walked over to me. "We just got back from patrol figured I'd check in on you."

I looked him up and down. He was still wearing his Nightwing costume. "Are you expecting something to happen to me?"

"No. Its just wanted to check in on you."

The figure behind him joined in. "He's very motherly kid. Best get used to it."

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I noticed the other figure was holding a helmet.

Dick pointed to him. "This is Jason or just Jay. Jay this is Ashleigh."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Jay turned to Dick. "Im gonna go get some shut eye. You can put the kid back to bed." He walked by by me and into one of the rooms.

"Jay's like that with everyone." Dick assured me. "You'll get use to it. The rest of the gang came in a while ago, they were asking about you."

"Oh."

"They're excited to meet you." He patted my shoulder. "Im going to get some rest my self. You know where I am if you need me."

I nodded and headed back to my room. I managed to fall back to sleep for awhile.

#batfam #batfamily #batman #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #nightwing #dick grayson #jason todd #red hood #fanfic #fanfiction #au #batsis #ashleigh wayne

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s-mething-mbti · 3 years

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Hiya! I just discovered your blog and was wondering if you could help try to type me (sorry this is pretty long)

1. I’m currently pretty torn between the intuitive introverts. I was able to narrow it down to INTJ, INFJ or INTP. I’m about 97.2% sure I use Ni. The only thing that’s giving me a bit of doubt is I find myself occasionally learning for the sake of learning which I’ve found is a traditionally Ne trait. Despite this I’m still pretty sure I use Ni as when I go down a rabbit hole and start learning for the sake of learning its always about a topic that interests me or is entertaining. I won’t waste my time learning about something I find mundane or drab. I resonate a lot with Ni’s “aha” moments where the correct answer simply pops into my head or a vision suddenly seems clear or a plot holes solution suddenly seems painstakingly obvious. I also resonate with starting out with a broader range of information/ possibilities and narrowing it down to one or two things. Another intuitive thing I highly relate to is living in the future. If almost never living in the present, and a constantly fixate on the future. I have a distinct, clear, and well thought out plan for the next 20 years (give or take).

Where I run into a bit of trouble is when I try to figure out which judging functions I predominantly use. It honestly feels like I use them all (though I know you’re only supposed to be able to use two well). For example I plan out everything, and set deadlines for myself. My desk often seems really messy to others especially when I’m doing art. This isn’t because I don’t value cleanliness, but because it simply makes more sense to keep all my art supplies out rather than having to spend at least fifteen minutes taking them out and then putting them away only to take them right back out the next day. I set goals based off of easily measurable, external things such as time, or grades. I make daily to do lists that outline everything I’ll need to do in the day, and some stuff to focus on if I have extra time. With my to do list I also plan out the approximate time each thing should take. When coming up with a scientific theory, I take others opinions/theories and test them against each other, and current scientific laws in order to formulate the most probable theory. External opinions (in a scientific/ logical manner) mean a lot to me (I don’t really care about how people that aren’t my friends think of me). To me these things seem very Te. But then I’m always smiling and am a fairly warm person. I want my friends to be happy, and I want to help others. I despise emotionally driven conflict(though I love debates), and while I’m not afraid to disrupt it if it threatens my morals/ is promoting something blatantly wrong (factually or morally) I do really harmony. These seem like pretty Fe things to me. As for Fi, I rarely share my negative emotions, preferring to deal with them predominantly alone. While I may not talk about them much I also have EXTREMELY strong morals. If something is crossing them I’m not going to simply ignore it for the sake of harmony. While I tend to be private I do try to be as authentic as possible. My morals are derived by information I’ve collected and decisions I’ve made myself, rather than being derived by ‘the groups’ collective morals if that makes sense. To me these things appear to be very Fi. As for Ti, sometimes I enjoy learning simply for the sake of learning. The knowledge may have no practical use to me but if I find it interesting or want to learn about it I can devote hours to it. I try and come to the most logical/accurate conclusion possible, and when I’m offering advice I may offer additional advice that takes different variables into account. The truth is really important to me as well.

2. Reading. I absolutely ADORE reading(specifically fantasy/sci-fi/dystopian books or research/scientific articles about topics that interest me). For reference there was a period of time when I had some free time and I was reading 2 or 3 books a day? Read maybe 50 books in the span of 20 days? But yeah I absolutely love reading. Just he way the book sucks you in and deposits you and a completely new world full of wonder and disaster and ugh it’s just magnificent. And don’t even get me started on impeccable character development and eeee. The way rereading a book feels like you’re reconnecting with an old best friend or going back to your childhood home and *sobs*. I also LOVE trying to predict plot twists and character deaths. Most of the time I can predict things correctly and idk it’s really fun to just try and figure out what’s going to happen before the big reveal. And the rush of satisfaction you get when you’ve guessed something right- it also helps me brace for character deaths (sorta. For example I knew *the* death in the final empire [by Brandon Sanderson] was coming since nearly the very beginning [I had my suspicions since the moment vin was introduced] but I still sobbed when the character died. [a tad off topic but what caused me to cry wasn’t the death itself but another characters reaction to it. This is often the case I find. A death of a character I love leaves me feeling empty but what typically gets me to cry is the others reactions- for thus reason funerals usually make me cry. I should also add that I only cry when I’m alone. I’ve cried around people (that aren’t my parents) a grand total of 1 time.]

Uh and daydreaming. I’m almost always daydreaming. Ie. if my brain was a search engine or whatever one tab would be reality and I would consecutively have at lest 20 other tabs open. Some of then playing videos (daydreams) others supplying music(if I’m not actively listening to real music my brain cycles through songs I have memorized. Occasionally does this with book scenes too if I’m bored [yes, I memorize some of my favourite scenes, word for word, so I can play them like a movie in my head when I, bored) others containing random info (just me thinking random stuff) etc.

3. I guess how to solve some problems? Wether it’s a math or science problem, or an argument between friends, figuring out how to solve things has always been something I’m decently good at. Math and science just. Make sense. And then with issues between people I’m good at looking at different perspectives (even ones that I don’t agree with) and playing out different scenarios/ possible outcomes of different approaches. This lets me come up with a solution that will successfully solve the problem with the least amount of negative ramifications involved

4. Hmm maybe being present? I honestly feel like life is passing me by and I’m just immobilized on the sidelines. Im so far into the future that I kinda forget to actually *live* every once in a while.

5. Honesty? Truth? Morals? These topics are all really interesting as they can be kinda subjective. The line between honesty and cruelty is so small. What is truth? Cause while yes, we have some set truths (such as the earth is orbiting the sun) so many ‘truths’ are simply subjective and completely depend on ones perspective. And morals my goodness. The stormlight archive is a really fun series that plays around with things like what is justice? And honour? I won’t get into it now but it brings up so many really interesting questions regarding morals.

6. Perspective . I think perspective is such a fascinating thing. Just. Different opinions. Seeing the world through completely different lenses. Interpreting the same thing in utterly different ways. When toying around with an idea I find it really fun to try and imagine opposing perspectives. While I can find different perspectives really interesting, they can also well... get on my nerves to say the least. Sometimes someone perspective is just? So blatantly wrong? And has absolutely no factual evidence backing it up? And part of me wants to just just scream and it would be so much easier if everyone just. Assessed the facts in front of them instead of making wild accusations or whatever without anything to support them. But yeah overall I think perspectives are really cool and they’re part of what helps to make the world diverse and life so much less interesting without different perspectives.

The future. I’ve found a bunch of my friends find thinking about the future stressful but if I’m being honest I find solace in thinking about the future. Having things planned out and knowing what I intend to do/ where I want to go takes off so much stress. I lowkey live in the future and I honestly cannot wait till it comes, and I achieve my goals. While I might be a bit scared the future excites me so much more than it’ll ever scare me.

7. Maybe add some more stuff about the judging functions and feelings and thinking etc . I absolutely adore science and math. I literally do math for fun. I’m currently aiming to get my PhD in astrophysics.

Not sure if this is relevant at all but my biggest (harmless) pet peeves are my grandmother’s door stopper (it always gets stuck in the door and then u can’t get it out and the door won’t close properly- I have an unhealthy amount of hatred for that thing AHAHJSEJKSMDJDJDJJ) and when people say some variant of “you did good”. Like nO NO YOU DID NOT DO gOoD. YOU DID W E L L (Anyways theres my little mini rant).

I’m my friend groups therapist (sorta). While I’m really not good with words and recycle the same three responses I always let everyone know that I’m here for them and they can talk to me without judgement etc. While I really don’t know what to say or do I try my best because I care about my friends and want to help them. I love them and so I want them to be able to be happy. Im always smiling (though this is more so because people don’t ask me how I’m doing when I look happy than because I’m genuinely happy. Most of the time I’m he farthest thing from that). I’m a pretty warm person who’s always happy to help, however I’m very introverted. I haven’t had a single conversation with the majority of people in my class (I’ve had a convo with maybe 5. Talk to 2 regularly. There are 26 people in my class). I never express negative emotions (with the exception of stress- I panic intensely in the 5 minutes immediately before taking a test as this helps me to completely turn off my nerves while I’m writing the exam. I may also make a joke or two about my negative emotions with close friends). I should also add that when making decisions I value logic more and think thinks through thoroughly, examining the pros and cons etc. While I take feelings and emotions into consideration when making decisions they’re more like an additional variable to consider rather than the main driving force that determines my decision. If I’m feeling really emotional and I need to make a decision I will postpone deciding until I feel more levelheaded. I’m really not impulsive in the slightest.

Thank you so much!!

INTJ

Living in the future rather than the present and your comfort in that sapce, your ability for and enjoyment of making predictions, your ability to really understand and try on different perspectives you don’t necessarily agree with, your focus on “ramifications” (aka future implications) while problem solving - this all points to high Ni.

You also show a Te preference - goals based on external metrics, to-do lists for daily tasks, logic based on the outer world (external opinion). When you said “While I take feelings and emotions into consideration when making decisions they’re more like an additional variable to consider rather than the main driving force that determines my decision” - that is a clear cut definition of Te over Fe preference.

Your tertiary Fi shows through here as well - willing to disrupt harmony if it upsets your morals, your morals being personally derived, needing to understand your emotions while alone. And lastly, your statement about “forgetting to live” from being in the future is pretty textbook inferior Se.

#ask #type me #intj #mbti #myers-briggs #Anonymous

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preservationandruin · 4 years

Text

Rhythm of War Liveblog, Part One Part Four (Chapters 12-15)

Onward! I feel like these posts are pretty long and don’t cover a lot, but then i remember that a lot of Part One every time is setting up what’s happening, and this one in particular we have an entire year’s worth of stuff to fill in, so I guess it’s warranted.

Kaladin hangs out with friends against his will, I remember that Adolin is a Horse Girl, Mraize talks about the interplanetary economy, Teleporting Fucker is a Legendarily Sore Loser, I have high hopes for spren necromancy, and Kaladin asks Zahel for advice.

We’re back to Kaladin, who is...not having a good time. He feels like he has to appear strong for Syl and the others, and not to let his problems affect them; he’s also hit hard by the feeling that Bridge Four is something that was in the past, not something that’s consistent and now.

“Hey,” Leyten said as they reached the tower entrance. “Rock! Got any stew for us maybe? For old times’ sake?” Kalaidn turned. The word “stew” pierced the cloud.

Rock can’t, he’s busy, and Kaladin goes to his rooms--which are sparse and empty, even though he has pretty good accommodations--and tries to self-isolate, which...mood. He starts going into what seems like a panic attack (paralyzed, curling into the fetal position, thoughts spiralling to what Moash was talking about) when the door is near-literally kicked down by Adolin and Syl.

(will i use this every time Adolin does things? probably)

Adolin manages to drag Kaladin out of his room, in what is--honestly--a pretty good way to do it for someone who is depressed--he makes the point that Kaladin doesn’t have to be happy, he doesn’t have to pretend to be happy, but he should be miserable around other people. And he does it in just...a very Adolin way:

“You spend too many evenings alone, bridgeboy,” Adolin said, glancing at the nearby exhaustionspren, then grabbing Kaladin by the arm--something few other people would have dared. “I like being by myself,” Kaladin said. “Great. Sounds awful. Today, you’re coming with me. No more excuses. I let you blow me away last week and the week before.”

I love that “blow me away” is Roshar-slang for “blow me off”

Kaladin tries to lash out and say maybe he just doesn’t like being around Adolin, Adolin dares him to say, with an oath, that he should be alone right now--and Kaladin can’t, because--of course--Kaladin shouldn’t be alone right now.

“Ha,” Adolin said, tugging him along by the arm. “Come on, Brightlord Master Highmarshal Stormface. Change your coat to one that doesn’t smell like smoke, then come with me. You don’t have to smile. You don’t have to talk. But if you’re going to be miserable, you might as well do it with friends.”

This is so good. I think on some level when you self-isolate, what people want (or at least, what I want) is to have someone willing and able to drag you out of it despite the fact that you don’t want to be around people--and I’m so glad that Adolin is that person.

Kaladin demands to know why Syl got Adolin of all people, despite that scene literally showing why Adolin was the perfect person to bring, and Syl responds that she needed someone Kaladin couldn’t intimidate...and, in the end, Kaladin ends up thanking her.

And then we go to Adolin’s favorite bar, where Veil is waiting, where the gang just start hanging out--and Adolin and Veil start talking about trying to set Kaladin up with someone. This is about the moment where I crowed in victory, because while I didn’t see this specifically coming up, Adolin and Veil being drinking buddies who are a) overly-invested in Kaladin’s love life and b) end up talking about attractive people together IS something I called at the end of Oathbringer. Bi Disaster Drinking Club lives.

(Casper, Adolin isn’t confirmed bi-- Listen. listen. give me this.)

“Oh, don’t be sour,” Veil said, smacking [Kaladin] on the shoulder. “You didn’t even glance at her. She’s cute. Look at those legs. Back me up, Adolin.”

I love all the Veil and Adolin banter we get here, because it only gets better--Veil asking for details of one of Adolin’s past relationships, Adolin trying to get out of it, Kaladin getting to enjoy time with his friends even when (maybe especially when) those friends are ridiculous. And then we also get another good moment of Adolin and Kaladin friendship when Veil goes off to gamble--Adolin asks Kaladin for advice for how to help Shallan with her own issues, but the advice Kaladin gives is also good advice for dealing with Kaladin, which Adolin knows and did on purpose. Kaladin asks why Adolin hasn’t become a Radiant yet, to which Adolin says that he’s not a good fit, he guesses--but the real reason, of course, is that Adolin refuses to give up Mayalaran.

Listen--by not giving up Mayalaran, Adolin is proving himself the Edgedancer she deserves and I will die on this hill.

And then things go back to being sad, because Rock is leaving--going back to his people to recieve judgement for breaking their rules by killing Amaram. He says he probably won’t be returning and hugs Kaladin, who gives him a few other members of Bridge Four as an escort--some of his kids, including Cord--the Shardbearer--stay in Urithiru.

I deeply suspect this will not be the last we see of Rock, because there’s no way in hell, but it was both touching and really sad at the same time.

We move back to Shallan the next morning, going through her day while Adolin is out horseriding; I can’t believe I nearly forgot Adolin is a Horse Girl, despite literally everything about Adolin being prime horse girl. Shallan gets a message about a spren coming to negotiate--probably one of Sja-anat’s spren--and she visits her brothers as well, sketching by their fire.

We get that she’s researched DID--or, the Rosharan understanding of DID--and the results haven’t been heartening, with people who have DID mostly being objectified and ridiculed. It also notes that memory loss is a common symptom, which Shallan notes she doesn’t really experience.

Mraize shows up at her brothers’ house, both as a threat--his cover is an older soldier who is known to be clumsy and could, in theory, injure someone around him--and to talk to Shallan. We get more of the goals of the Ghostbloods--they’re trying to set up an Investiture trade across the Cosmere. Which is actually super smart--investiture is pretty easy to come by on Roshar, which is the entire reason Vasher/Zahel is there. I can see Nalthis in particular loving a way to sustain their gods that, uh, doesn’t involve sucking out souls.

Mraize also basically confirms his mole is a lightweaver, which...I’m really hoping this isn’t the case, but I’m starting to suspect the mole is perhaps Formless, or a similar Alter of Shallan’s. She’s had some weird logic gaps that she doesn’t understand, and we just got the mention of alters maybe not able to remember what each other are doing.

Now, I really hope that’s not the case, because that’s a tired old trope with DID--the evil alter ego. It’s really tired and awful for people who have DID, so I hope that’s not the twist here.

Anyway, Mraize gives her her next job, which is going to find Restares--who is in the honorspren citadel of Lasting Integrity. Mraize says when she meets Restares, she’ll know what to do, and that once she completes that, she’ll get all the answers she could want from the Ghostbloods.

We go back to Venli in Kholinar; a new group of Fused are here for bodies, and Leshwi is worried about one of them in particular--one of the fannahn-im, Those of Alteration. We meet the Nine, leaders of the Fused who are in pillars fused to the floor of their chamber, which Venli points out is just dooming the people whose bodies they took to a horrible form of entombment.

Venli can feel Odium watching, which I responded to with “come on motherfucker, 1v1 me.” Listen, I would die, but what a way to go.

The Teleporting Fucker--Lezian the Pursuer--is one of the Nex-im, Those of Husks, who are the Ninth Brand. He doesn’t defer to the Nine and claims Kaladin has to be Fourth Ideal because he “couldn’t be defeated by an ordinary human.” Which is hilarious, because he was. You were defeated by an ordinary human whose powers were blocked. Kaladin is just that good.

Anyway, he claims he now has to go kill Kaladin because his whole deal is that he murders any human who kills him:

“Milennia ago, Lezian was the first Fused to be killed by a human. To avoid the shame of such a death, upon returning to life, Lezian ignored all orders and rational arguments--and went into battle seeking only the man who had killed him.”

So he’s a loose cannon who everyone goes along with because they can’t stop him and because he developed a legend around his stupid decisions? Got it. I’m really amused that this guy’s entire thing is just being Roshar’s Sorest Loser. Anyway, Leshwi disputes his claim and says that she has first dibs on killing Kaladin--Venli notes that Leshwi probably doesn’t even know that she’s trying to protect Kaladin.

Guys, I can’t believe Fused war tactics operate on the dibs system. Also, this feels just like a continuation of my joke that everyone in this series has a type and that type is Kaladin.

Anyway, then we meet the new lady who Leshwi is worried about--Raboniel, the Lady of Wishes. She was one of the Nine but stepped down to become more active; Leshwi talks about how she is a scientist without morals, whose plan the last Desolation was to release a plague that would affect Singers as well as humans and actually did, but fortunately didn’t have as great an effect as she hoped. So now biological warfare is coming onto the table.

Raboniel pushes to seize Urithiru to strike against the humans; she created the anti-powers Fabrial and now wants to reverse the “Sibling’s heart” to nullify radiants in Urithiru, although she notes that Fourth Ideal ones could pull through--and she wants to experiment on the Sibling, who is effectively a deadeye.

This is interesting, because we’ve already seen a deadeye start to respond to people--Mayalaran. Is spren necromancy going to get a day in the sun in this book? Please, please let spren necromancy through the power of friendship be a plot point.

Anyway, Leshwi offers Venli to Raboniel as an aide, while wanting Venli to spy for her on Raboniel’s plans; Venli is happy about being on this strike, because she wants to see if she can find someone who can teach her how to be a Radiant.

We also get this good note from Leshwi, which--to me--calls back the fact that there’s a whole narrative about if war can be honorable happening here:

“Extinction is the natural escalation of this war,” Leshwi whispered. “If you forget why you are fighting, then victory itself becomes the goal. The longer we fight, the more detached we become. Both from our own minds, and from our original Passions.” She hummed softly to abashment.

We get back to Kaladin, who pushed through the worst of his depressive episode (although I would note that this could support the idea that something Odium-y is making it worse; now he’s in the Tower, it’s Regular Depression which he’s better at dealing with). Sigzil has now been put in charge of administration for the Windrunners; Kaladin tried to make it Teft but Teft was like absolutely not, fuck you for suggesting it.

Kaladin goes to find Zahel, wanting to talk to him, and finds him doing laundry; on the way he talks to Rlain, who is overseeing people growing plants by gemlight and music, which is how the listeners used to do it. Rlain gets excited at the mention of an honorspren who will work with him, but when Kaladin explains the situation, he demurs--understandably.

“I will wait for a spren who will bond me for who I am--and for the honor I represent.”

Rlain--in particular Rlain, who knows the experience of being forced into partnerships and jobs you don’t want--doesn’t want a spren who sees him as a burden or something that they don’t want to bond, and that’s completely valid of him.

Anyway, Kaladin finds Zahel hanging up bright scarves in the laundry; Kaladin asks Zahel if he should join the martial ardents as a solution to what he should do next, noting that Zahel “couldn’t give up the sword.”

“Oh, I gave it up. I let go. Best mistake I ever made.”

YEAH, AND NOW YOUR SWORD SON IS TERRORIZING ROSHAR, VASHER.

Well, not terrorizing. Mostly it’s just with Szeth, who is...somewhere around here, probably. Somewhere Zahel is avoiding at all costs bc Nightblood would take one look at him and just start yelling.

Zahel spars with Kaladin, fully exploiting the colored cloth around them and his own style of fighting while talking to Kaladin about why he fights. In the end, he says he can’t sponsor Kaladin--because Kaladin still loves fighting too much for him to really be an ardent. Kaladin also notes that Zahel fights like Azure--Zahel irritably corrects that she fights like him.

God I really want to see Azure and Zahel on the same page. Vasher you can’t run forever.

There’s also a meta discussion; Zahel talks about the different levels of invested beings, and how he’s had to update it from the time in Warbreaker he did the same thing. He notes that for people like him:

“We’re spren masquerading as men. That’s why she takes our memories. She knows we aren’t the actual people who died, but something else given a corpse to inhabit...”

So that’s both interesting and rather somber; “she” in this case is of course Endowment. I’m not entirely sure what to make of this bit, other than that it’s sad and interesting in that it draws a comparison with the Fused, who do a similar thing but instead of taking the shape/personality of the corpse they’re inhabiting, kill it and replace it.

Also, I’m not sure Zahel is right, here, because Lightsong did remember his past as the story went on, and did remember emotional connection to people from his past. So there might be more there than Zahel is giving it credit for.

#row spoilers #row liveblog #the stormlight archive #venli and the long con #ghostblood activity

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fangren · 4 years

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2020 sure was a year for me... started it off sick as hell with what i know now was almost certainly covid-19. got over it just in time for The Pandemic to start actually being A Thing in public consciousness, first false confidence in it mostly being in China, and surely it isn’t a big deal and will all blow over, to the first few (confirmed) cases in the US, to the dams breaking and panic washing over us...

to the world beginning to change, to people complaining and complaining and complaining about being stuck working at home and not knowing what to do with their time while meanwhile me, my coworkers, and countless others found their own jobs busier than ever (and others still found themselves on the brink of disaster...)

(what shutdown? what quarantine? it seemed like damn near half the county was shopping in my store, especially early on. no thought, no protection, bring the whole damn family because why the fuck not?)

the masks and directional markers and cleaning and all the other new rules that people largely didn’t ignore (though they do mostly wear masks now, at least...)

nobody that I knew died, fortunately. lotta people that I liked ended up quitting or otherwise leaving the store, tho. which... sucked, in its own way. I hope they’re doing well for themselves right now.

hell of a backdrop to a hell of a year, tho. a lot more horrible shit happened to a lot of people that weren’t me. most of which i can barely remember, because i’m terrible with that stuff.

(always reblog, never donate. that’s... me.)

but, hey! there were some good things too. the new Animal Crossing game released this year, remember that? (gotta spend the evening with the town...) also the Sword and Shield DLC. plus Among Us suddenly became a thing, which was pretty cool. played some good games of it earlier. also been enjoying a Digimon game, and also Civ 6 recently. all in all a pretty good year for video games as far as I’m concerned.

didn’t, uh, didn’t get to write nearly as much as I wanted to. started a weird fic that nobody wanted, then got sidetracked editing and reposting an older series. until, uh, I got kinda tired of that. so.. haven’t done much since then. so many WIPs, so little time and even less energy.... so that’s a bummer.

didn’t really make any progress with my, like, personal life? i guess? still living alone, closeted, with my shitty parents. still no driver’s license, still in a shitty retail job stocking dairy.

still single. still honestly kinda crushing on that one girl I’ve mentioned before with the two small children. still barely been able to talk to her since we’re usually so damn busy and don’t have much chances to interact.

(still have mixed feelings about the prospect of actually dating her. I don’t hate kids, honestly, i just don’t have the patience/energy/attention span to spend extended periods of time with the young ones. give me someone i can play or chat with briefly before we go our separate ways.)

i don’t think i can blame the pandemic for any of that. i know myself too well. i’d have spun my wheels doing nothing all year even without it, because even an uncomfortable rut is still hard as hell to get out of.

i don’t know where i’m going with this. i don’t think i’m going anywhere. just reflecting on things because im lonely.

awkward transitional phrase also the election! that sure was a thing that happened. it’s probably bad, but i can;t help but think the horrible plague that’s killed thousands also had our back by forcing this country to make voting easier, thus allowing That Shitty Old Bastard to narrowly beat The Orange One. even if, uh, the losing man-baby is throwing a temper tantrum about it that may or may not end in a coup.

also a show i never watched and don’t care about ended! that sure was a fun distraction for a little while, right? right?

um...

but anyway the year has to end, and so does this post. I have no New Year’s Resolution, because I don’t feel like setting myself up to fail again. especially at something so meaningless.

anyway, Fuck Off 2020! and just for good measure, Fuck Off 2021 because you’re probably gonna be shit too.

night all. I hope someone reading this enjoyed themselves at some point tonight.

imma go play animal crossing and try to have fun.

#long post #late night bullshit thoughts from fangren #fangren talks #this was more depressing than i honestly wanted so sorry about that

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husky-twst-and-obeyme · 4 years

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A Maid in service (Husky x Barbatos)

(This WAS gonna be MC x Barbatos but Im Barbatos trash atm XD but i will make a MC x Barbatos in the near future hopefully! He needs more love uwu ) I’m putting a tab in case i make this too long XD and if you wish to image yourself as Husky that’s fine ^^

Warning: some cursing , slightly suggestive

Word Count: 2,600 words

It was an absolute disaster. The Prince, Diavolo , was giving me a tour of the castle as well as with Mammon, he was mainly there to keep an eye on me. We entered a room that mainly consisted of Vases, they were all beautiful and VERY fragile.

Then i noticed Mammon eyeing some of them “Don’t even think about it, Mammon”

“ay just relax, i ain’t gonna do anything!”

“yeah sure, you said that the last time too and ended up with “unknown jewelry” “

He scoffs as he rolled his eyes at me. I payed no mind to him but literally the second i turned away i heard something get picked up and an immediate crash....I slowly turn around and there i see Mammon with a vase in shards right in front of him.

“Mammon!”

“I didn’t mean to drop it!”

“What was that ?” Diavolo came towards us along with Barbatos

Mammon Froze “shit!”

Then Diavolo looked at the broken vase. His face was blank but it slowly morphed into a displeased look. I mean i can’t blame him, that vase must of been worth a fortune , which is why Mammon tried to take it...UGH why couldn’t someone like Satan or Beel just came with me instead !?

“Mammon...” Diavolo’s voice was low

“eep!” Mammon sounded like a mouse

“could you explain what happened here? I’d love an explanation. “

I looked over and Mammon was basically shivering and at a lost of words, I’d be the same too since Dia shut off his friendly tone. I had to think of something quick , He was already in debt and it would be much worst if he were to try and pay of Diavolo , he might as well just give him his credit card! which would never happen but then i spoke out without hesitation or thought

“I-It was me! “

The three looked at me surprised

Diavolo raised a brow “it was you Husky? “

Shit! I probably should of said something else...can’t turn back now..”Y-yes...I wanted to admire it but I thought i saw something on the vase,....I tried to wipe it off but i accidentally pushed it! “ God I hope that’s somewhat believable

The Prince was silent for a second and then sighed “ you humans can be so clumsy some times” Good, he bought it but i knew i was still gonna be punished ..

“Even if it was by accident, I still can’t let go you lightly , Husky. You need to be punished “

I gulped

“I was thinking of making you pay for it yourself but...maybe you can work for it “

“huh?? work for it? “

“yes, you can work as a maid here in the castle until you’ve paid off the debt for the vase “

I froze in shock , a-a maid!? hell no! I’ll never hear the end of it from the brothers! God, this sucks so much! but ..it’s slightly better then using my own money i guess..?

“Y-yes sir..” I regrettably said

“Perfect! You’ll work everyday after school until 9 PM , If there are days you wish off, i will allow it but each day off is a day lost. So choose wisely. Barbatos will also be able to help you if you have any troubles, so don’t be afraid to ask! “

Barbatos has been silent and has a somewhat concerned expression , probably pitying me

I agreed to the terms. After the Tour was over , Barbatos handed me my maid uniform , which luckily was a traditional maid outfit with a long skirt. On our way home, i made sure to give Mammon an earful , i was probably worst then Lucifer at this time. He kept apologizing and said i’d probably look great in the outfit. The second he said that I knocked him on his ass. Now I just have to mentally prepare myself for my first day as a maid tomorrow

I was so anxious when i got home , i got myself dressed and before i left , I was stopped by Lucifer. He already gave me a lecture for breaking something in the castle , what’s it gonna be now..?

“If you need help with your studies, please talk to me. You’ll be busy as a maid and it might not give you enough study time.”

“oh..sure, thanks “

He nods “ Barbatos should be on his way to get you soon “

“? he’s picking me up? I thought i had to walk there”

“just be grateful that Diavolo is making you walk to the castle from here..”

He had a point.. the Castle wasn’t too far but it was far enough for a long walk. I waited outside and soon a carriage came by. The door opened and Barbatos came out

“Good Evening Miss Husky.” He held the door open for me

“Good Evening..” I walked inside and he close the door after he entered and then we were on our way to the castle.

It was Quiet for the majority of the ride.It somewhat made me uncomfortable especially since it was Barbatos. Not that he’s bad, I’m just not familiar with him is all. I guess i will be soon since I’ll be basically helping him with chores and such.

“How are you this evening?” He asked suddenly

I got a little shook but i quickly responded “I’m f-fine! Just a little nervous “

“I assume you’ve never done anything like this before? “ he gave a light smile

“no ..not really, I mean the closest thing to this is cleaning for my Grandma but it was mainly to help her since she didn’t have enough energy..”

“just like how Mammon broke the Vase and you took the blame? “

!! What?..how did he...how does he know that? I kinda panicked for a second but started questioning it. If he knew, why didn’t he say anything before? Why did he let this happen?

“..If you knew..why didn’t you say anything? “

“well My lord would of gravely punished Mammon ..not just paying him back. He would of given him something then death since he’s attempted to steal so many times...but if you took the blame, he would be fine and you’d basically get a slap on the head “

huh..so in other words, he wished not see Mammon punished because of his stupidity. I dunno how it works for punishing them but he gave me chills when he mentioned worst then death, i can’t even image that..We finally arrive at the castle

“so..does Diavolo know? “

“no. If i were , you’d both be punished , you wouldn’t like that know would you? “

I only did this ti protect Mammon, so i guess i do..All I do is nod and head our way in. My first day wasn’t so bad expect with some of the staff trying to get under my skin..They were rude and some of them shamed me for being a human and being totally reckless. It really brought my mood down. It was recovered when i was in the kitchen. Barbatos was already there making desserts. I Heard from Beel that he makes the best food in all three realms, As much as I was curious, i had to get back to work but He stopped me

“Hello Husky”

“oh!..Hey Barbatos”

“Would you mind helping me with the batter? I need to get these ready soon and extra hands would be nice “

“oh, of course” I set my cleaning stuff down and helped

I have baking experience before, I lived with my grandma for a while and i would always bake sweets with her , so this wasn’t really foreign to me Besides some the ingredients. Barbatos took notice how i didn’t struggle

“you have a thing for baking as well? “

“not really. Im just used to it from when i lived with my Grandma. We mainly made Cookies and brownies”

“interesting. maybe you could show me some recipes from the human world , I’d love to try some recipes with you” He looked cheerful and smiled

He ..actually looked really cute when he smiled, the more i see it , i blushed slightly

After making some of the batter and letting them bake, I noticed that took up some time

“oh no! I better-” but then my arm was grabbed

“My lord doesn’t mind you being here as long as you’re at least working” he reassured me , he could see i was stressed

“oh ..well...I can stay as long as needed. “ i said firmly

“good, i actually wanted you as a taste tester as well.”

“huh? but how would i know if it’s good or not? “ I said that since the ingredients in Devildoom are so unique and who knows what devil’s taste are like to what’s good or not.

“oh , don’t worry, i actually have a bit of human ingredients here, i was hoping to make some cakes , maybe some brownies as well, perhaps? “

Just the sound of hearing human world cake or brownies sounded good and if his skills are as good as people say they are, i can’t wait!

“Sure, maybe we can make a 2 layer cake? “

He agreed and soon we started making a cherry maraschino cake , he didn’t struggle much , it was only the ingredients that he wasn’t used to. It was so funny to see him try a maraschino cherry, his face made many different reactions since it was a flavor that blasted when it touched your tongue. I explained that these were mainly used in alcoholic drinks or be turned into candy. He was quite interested and curious to learn more about certain ingredients as well

“Hey, shouldn’t these other desserts -”

“oh the second we finished, they were headed to the dining hall. I don’t need to deliver them myself , all we had to do is get them done”

“oh good, I was scared of taking up too much of your time..”

he smiled “don’t worry about that, I rather enjoy your company “ that really made me blush. It felt nice to be wanted especially since i came here, I’ve been treated like a burden, intentional or not, it was nice that that one person outside of the brothers likes me.

We continued to bake , after the cake was done, it tasted so magical! The sweetness of the cherries and how soft the cake felt! No wonder he was the best, i should save a piece for beel since he liked human world food too! Then i noticed that Barbatos stared at me

“hm..? is something wrong ?” he made me a little worried

Then, he got close to my face. Oh my god- what is he doing then..he kissed my cheek

*Husky.exe has stopped working*

Did..did he really just..KISS MY CHEEK- WHAT- WHY-

I was so flustered and blushed i couldn’t even speak and he just chuckled , thank you so much for laughing at my tomato looking self.

“My apologies, you had cake on your face “

YOU COULD OF JUST TOLD ME “No no it’s fine!”

“I couldn’t help myself..I was curious what you’d taste like..~ “

All i did was stood there, mentally freaking out , how do i respond to that!? more important why do i like it!? quick say something!

“w-why you know that if you actually kissed me..?”

His eye widened in surprise but then He smirked “oh?~”

why.did.i. just. say. THAT- what was i thinking?! I quickly looked around for an excuse to leave and i noticed the time, it was closing to 9. Thank god!

“oh would you look at the time! I have to get ready to go ! “ Then i quickly left before he could get a word in.

I finished up anything that i could do quickly and headed to the entrance but was stopped by Diavolo

“Husky!”

“! H-hello your highness”

“ I heard you helped Barbatos with the sweets today ! You made the sweet hell chocolate cake right? “

I nod and he lightens up “It was amazing! I had no idea you were so skilled in baking! you must bake some more when you can! “

“Im glad you ! It kinda makes me happy to bake..it kinda reminds me of home.”

“well you have permission to help Barbatos again if he asks, you two can discuss it on the carriage”

“huh what do you-” then i stopped. FUCK- i forgot he’s the one who brought me here, so of course he’d be the one to take me home. Diavolo looks at me confused and i reassure him that i was fine, he waved me me off and I saw Barbatos near the carriage . I felt nervous about this time , would it be silent like before ..I’m not sure what will happen. I enter and he soon joins me but,,he sits next to me this time. The first time he sat across, i guess he’s more comfortable with me but that doesn’t change what happened between us.

“How was your first day?” he asked, not looking at me

“It was fine. for the most part “

“oh? why most? “

“...it’s not too much, just some of the staff gave me a little bit of a hard time.”

“...”

His silence is kinda giving me chills with his face looking a little pissed

“L-like i said it was fine mostly! It was better with you! “ I halted at that sentence , shit! that was suppose to be internal-

His face soften after hearing that and he looked directly at me “That’s nice...you made my day as well.”

My heart skipped a beat, my face really blushed , it was too noticeable, Barbatos took note of that , he seemed to be closer now.

“you know..I could bake with you everyday if you want..~ Diavolo wouldn’t mind..~”

The Idea was innocent but his tone wasn’t , Im sure he’d really want to bake with me but Im sure he has other intentions now after that kiss. Did he feel like this before that..? It’ been 3 months since I've been here. Then I noticed how we’re basically close to being face to face , he had his finger and thumb under my chin

“h-huh-” then he lightly kissed me “ hm!”As much as it was too much..i didn’t want him to stop either.

He stops “ I hope we’ll have more interesting days like this in the future~ “

Before i could say anything else, the carriage stops. We’re back at the House of Lamentation, Barbatos gets up and opens the door for me “you should get going “ he smiled

I was still for a moment but then i got up and left the carriage , before i went inside , he grabbed my hand and gentle kissed the top of it. I was even redder then i was.

“Have a good day, My Lady~” he closed the carriage when he entered back

My heart was beating so hard the rest of the night and i couldn’t stop thinking about what happen...did i really like Barbatos..? It was so hard to deny it and just thinking about him made me blush. I got into my room and got changed into comfy causal cloths and laid flat on my bed , and hoped to relax. Now I’m excited to see him again...

(I hope you guys enjoy this! I had fun doing it! Suggest som stuff if you want something like this in the future!)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos

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