#of the mannequin families that were used for testing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moosemonstrous · 9 months

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btw I have now put links to both the tag here and on AO3 in my bio bc I got sick of scrolling through tumblr 😌 Full disclosure - I have met lab people who act like small animals caught in the middle of a road whenever someone dares to enter their domain.

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - sticks and stones

“Can’t promise the spot will stay open,” Kwok tells him apologetically. “But this is good, no? All the young’uns want to go to the academy!”

Robbie would bet his working eyeball that none of the young'uns would be so keen on it after ten minutes alone with Major Brooks. “So I keep hearing,” he mutters. “Sorry for the trouble. I appreciate you taking me on in the first place.”

“Navos is good people,” Kwok shrugs. The Shatterdome functions on a rather opaque network of favours and IOUs. ‘Good people’ seems to be a fairly high praise. Not quite on 'one of ours' level, but high. “You remember me when you are a ranger up in the dome and we’re even.”

And just like that, the transport maintenance chapter of Robbie’s career closes with little fanfare. Technically, he didn’t have to come speak to Kwok in person – his assignment has already gone through and the man would’ve been notified either way. He doesn’t want to leave a bad impression, though. For all he knows, the battery of tests he’d been fast-tracked through the day before will spit out some convoluted reason for why the drift activated on its own and he will be back on the job market before the end of the week. At least there are plenty of positions open – it’s easier to hire someone inside the base and train them up than wait for the paperwork to clear for an experienced worker from the outside.

He remembers the last time he let himself think things were finally turning around, though. He’s not going to make that mistake again.

At least his head is clearer after half an hour in a giant magnet and a full night’s sleep. He’s still unable to hold a conversation with Ivanov without some truly strange thoughts popping up like bubbles on the surface of a pot – the more tired or angry he gets, the harder it is to ignore them. He knew he was going to pay for running on fumes for weeks, and being sedated for nearly three days must have knocked something loose, but. Nothing proper sleep hygiene and some semblance of a routine won’t fix.

Or maybe you’re just noticing stuff, because you ain’t an idiot. Huh? Could it be that?

Or maybe this whole business with The Charger is extremely weird and Robbie should be packing up and running for the hills. Unfortunately, his and Gabe’s permits only work in Hong Kong and when he last checked how much it would be to fly back to US, he had to sit down for a long moment. Even if he was willing to risk taking a ship, where would that leave them? Back on a decimated coast, hoping the wind doesn’t blow over nuclear fallout, and struggling to find enough food for both of them? Queuing at state borders for days or weeks, hoping they’ll be lucky enough to get through on the increasingly stringent rules? Nevada already stopped letting in anyone without immediate family members or sponsors in-state.

Looks like the only way forward is through.

His wristband scans through to the R&D wing now. The soldiers standing guard give Robbie odd looks, but don’t make a move to stop him, so he forces his shoulders down and walks through the armoured door like he knows what he’s doing.

He has no idea what he’s doing. Cho said, ‘come find me in R&D before noon’. There are at least fifteen labs just in this one corridor and none of the doors have anything approaching a comprehensible naming convention. Some signs are just a piece of printer paper with a name scrawled over it, some have the original writing taped over with a KEEP OUT sticker, some seem to list the people working inside. None of those list an Amadeus Cho. It’s half past eleven.

Eventually, Robbie sticks his head in a room labelled ‘HMT DES’. Inside, there are three circular podiums with a mannequin each, showcasing variations of the PPDC hazmat suits. There are three people inside; two hide behind the middle suit as soon as they notice him, leaving the third to fend for herself.

“Can–can I help you?” she asks nervously. She has blue hair and wears fishnet sleeves over a tank top. Not exactly the nerd attire Robbie was expecting.

“I’m looking for Amadeus Cho,” he explains, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. It’s the opposite of what he usually tries to achieve, and she looks like she might be having an anxiety attack. “Any idea where I could find him?”

The girl listens to some frantic whispering from behind the suit. “In the bone lab,” she squeaks. Then blushes so hard Robbie worries she might actually pass out. “Up one floor, two doors down on the left, thankyouseeyoulater.”

What the hell.

He closes the door.

At least with the directions he finds the right room in less than five minutes. The label indeed reads ‘bone lab’. He’s pretty sure the music blasting from the inside is Dead Kennedys. When nobody answers his knocking, he prays he isn’t about to embarrass himself further and pushes the door open.

Cho is standing with his back to him at a table completely covered in… either huge chunks of dirty plaster or – more likely and vastly more disturbingly – massive bone fragments. He’s holding a metal training staff. Before Robbie can call out, he brings it over his head and smashes one of the chunks. When it doesn’t break, he adjusts his grip and tries again. And again. And again, until the greenish-grey surface cracks, at which point he gives out a little whoop.

“Cho?” Robbie risks. The music is too loud, coming from a small bluetooth speaker at the edge of the table. It’s shaped like a cat head. “Hey, Cho!”

Cho whirls around with the staff ready to smack the intruder. He’s wearing thick safety goggles. When he sees Robbie, he drops his weapon to the table with a clatter. “Good news!” he shouts over the music, like it’s normal both for people to just show up in his lab and to start a conversation from the middle. “You don’t have brain cancer!”

Well. That’s definitely good news.

“Was that a–?” He waits for Cho to lower the speaker’s volume through his phone. “Was that a risk?”

Cho is busy checking his messages, frowning. “Did you break my outfitters?”

“What?”

“Hazmat lab?” The frown becomes a grin as he scrolls through a bunch of texts. Robbie feels like that’s worse. “Good job getting on their good side, they might be designing your drivesuit soon.”

“I just–“ Can we get to the point? This kid is missing a screw. “You said to come find you?”

“Yes! Come on, take a–“ he picks up a hammer from an office chair before sliding it towards Robbie. “There you go. I was hoping we could talk without the grown-ups hovering around.”

The grown-ups. Robbie can already feel a headache coming. He takes a seat while Cho leans on the table, untroubled by a pile of skeletal remains inches from his back. “Talk about what?”

Cho scrambles around for a remote and points it at one of the screens at a wall behind Robbie. He flicks through several output sources – one is most definitely a cartoon show Gabe used to love back in L.A. – until he finds what looks like the Hell Charger’s blueprints.

“That,” he says, suddenly serious. “What do you actually know about this jaeger?”

“I already–“

“Yeah, but that can’t be all,” Cho cuts him off impatiently. “I found your records from before your mom took you and your brother off-base. You were eight. Your dad never took you to the hangar?”

Not really. Mama didn’t want you losing fingers in the machinery.

“Wasn’t a place for a kid,” he mumbles. There are records? “I don’t really remember much from that time. Weren’t all the records sealed?”

I told you Ivanov is full of shit.

“Oh, they were,” Cho smirks. “But the last guy in my role had access to some of the classified stuff, and nobody ever revoked it. You know how it is.”

Robbie has no idea how it is. “What do they say?”

“Nothing!” Cho groans. “Just that you and your brother existed. That’s why I’m asking.”

It’s both crushingly disappointing and a perfectly good reason for Ivanov to just say there was no information available. Keep deluding yourself. You’ll see I’m right sooner or later. Still, Robbie doesn’t really have much he can – or wants to – tell Cho.

“Sorry, I can’t help,” he shrugs. “I’m told we left before it was decommissioned. Mom never talked about it.”

Cho lifts up his goggles to his forehead to rub his eyes. He seems frustrated. “No weird work anecdotes? No drama about close calls?” He huffs when Robbie shakes his head. “Great. Another dead end. What did Ivanov tell you?”

“Just that my dad used to be a pilot. That he died killing Daggerblight.”

There is a long moment where Cho watches him like he’s waiting for Robbie to crack and admit to some vast conspiracy. When nothing happens, he blows the air out of his cheeks. “Bummer. Oh well, let’s go find Montesi before she starts wondering where we are.”

Robbie feels the bottom of his stomach freeze over. “We were supposed to be meeting her, too?”

Cho is already walking over to the door. He holds it open with a stupid little bow. “Yep. We better hurry.”

Robbie kind of wants to punch him. He’s beginning to suspect this will be a common occurrence.

#ghost rider pacific rim au #robbie reyes #amadeus cho #the texts amadeus is getting are mostly keysmash followed by 'he cute tho'#amadeus stop bringing up how little he remembers he'll do something stupid about it

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faelune-home · 1 year

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FFXIVWrite 2023 #23: Suit

(A/n: I've written more twins than I have my own wol this month...ah well, my brain keeps going to them for ideas first whenver a prompt comes up.

anyway, set in vaguely earlyish EndW, during one of those training moments with Alphinaud testing his new skillset. there is one instance where you come across them both at a dummy doing that, but this could really happen at any time once he gets the job stone and they're in Sharlayan.

Word count: 549)

“Well, how does it feel so far?” Alisaie asked, sitting on the low wall outside the annex, watching her brother at work against the training dummy. The stuffed mannequin took another defenseless hit against the flying machines, swaying from the force before settling once more. The nouliths settled against his back, a surprising weight to them that almost made him lean back and stand up straighter, despite not even physically connecting to anything.

“It’s interesting, to say the least,” Alphinaud hummed thoughtfully, trying to think of the words to describe it, “The way that words and spells and movements seem to come to mind without even realising, or without the prior study or training. Was it like this when you took up red magic and gained your soul crystal?”

She shrugged.

“Near instant mastery in body and mind? I suppose in a way? Though even I had a mentor to help train me further and explain the nuances of it all. Unfortunately for you, you don’t quite have that available here,” she answered, grimacing.

“True. Though the way these crystals work, a mentor is just an additional aid to understanding. As it is, it's almost natural, despite how briefly I’ve had it now. The magicks that make these crystals work as they do truly is something extraordinary.” Still, his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the Rostra at the upper levels, overlooking the whole city. Alisaie followed his gaze, her grimace deepening.

“Mother said it used to be his. The crystal and the nouliths,” she said, “I can’t imagine it though. He’s so stuck in his ways about being against violence and combat, and I know it's a curative role, but it still seems so…unlike him.”

“Nay, I understand. I’m struggling to picture him like this at all,” Alphinaud replied, shaking his head.

“Even so, these weapons were his once, and the spells I weave were cast by him too in years before. Maybe even something penned by him as well. Even if we stand opposed now, perhaps there could come a time, when we can talk face to face again without any formalities, that he could teach me properly. There may be something I can’t just learn from the crystal or something I could be missing.” Alphinaud offered a small smile, mixed with both uncertainty and optimism.

“You’re rather hopeful,” Alisaie said, rolling her eyes, “Do you really think he would?” Despite her dismissive tone, there was a look in her eye, like she wanted to believe the same as her brother.

“Truthfully? …Truthfully, I have to believe that. To think that we may always stand opposed to one another as family is not something I’d wish to consider, even if it is the way of things right now,” he said, expression neutral once more.

He turned back to the dummy, freeing the weapons once more, ready to continue.

“Here,” Alisaie spoke up, standing straight again. She unsheathed her rapier, giving it a flourish for show, a smirk crossing her lips.

“Have a spar with me, see how it handles against a real person. Then you can patch us up after.” Alphinaud smiled at the suggestion, turning his attentions immediately to her. The nouliths flew, whistling through the air in amongst the crackle of electricity and magic.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #alphinaud leveilleur #alisaie leveilleur #endwalker #fufu's writing

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leopoldainter · 3 months

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#Youtube

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valcuda · 3 months

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- Jasmin cloud gazing with her little siblings.

This is a scene from a short story I'm working on, "Jasmin: A Little Day Out". In this painting, they're just laying in the grass, enjoying the sun, and the wind, and the sounds of nature.

Anyways, I imagine Jasmin viewing Quinton and Elizabeth as siblings, instead of pets, or just family members, a view which I think Quinton and Elizabeth share, especially since they were shrunken as part of the same test, they have a bit of kinship there.

Oh yeah! You can also see Jasmin's thigh high's in this! Something which I rarely think about. The only reason she has them, is cause I made her in Sims once, and her legs too bare, so I gave her thigh highs, and they looked good, so I stuck with them. She's not showing her thighs in her base artwork tho, so I can't show them! This makes Jasmin the only character to have a detail not included in her base art! Assuming you don't count the seams on Junk-Watt's thighs, legs, ankles, and stomach, as separate details from her other seams.

Anyway, because I suck with perspective, I actually used Blender to pose digital wood drawing mannequins in the right poses, with the right sizes, rendered that, and essentially used that as my pose draft. I feel a bit guilty about doing that, but Jasmin's neck paid the price. An when I say wood drawing mannequins, I mean actually hunted down a 3D model of a typical wooden drawing mannequin, since that's what I base my pose drafts off anyway. Here's a link to it if you want it. It's honestly quite nice, and the stand was easy to remove thankfully!

Now then, something that annoys me is how little resolution I had for Quinton and Elizabeth. I originally planned to do this in Medibang, at 5600x4200 (my usual, just landscape), but it didn't give me enough resolution to do those two in my usual style, so I decided to try digitally painting it, and Penup has an even lower max resolution. Jasmin was drawn on 10 layers (Something I kinda regret), while Quin and Liz were done on 1 layer each. Honestly, if I wasn't so hellbent on making Quinton and Elizabeth their accurate sizes (which I still messed up by making them a tad bit too small) this would've looked far different, as I planned to include a tree stump, and some flowers (Like "Dreams by the Creek"), but I had to zoom in quite close just to make Quin and Elizabeth more than mere specs. This whole drawing was a disaster and a half. I still love it though, and I'm sure I'll end up making an improved version sometime, likely in Medibang. (Which ironically, was what I made "Dreams by the Creek" in, cause I didn't have Penup at the time, or even know it existed!)

Well then, that's all for now!

#digital art #giant/tiny

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timeoverload · 4 months

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Today wasn't great but it could have been worse. I was lucky because a lot of the doctors are still on vacation so I only had 15 cases. I was being kind of lazy because I haven't been feeling good. The rest of the week shouldn't be too busy either. It is a nice break because last week was really bad. I had 35 cases on Thursday and I didn't start feeling better until yesterday which was frustrating but that's usually how it goes.

I had time to get part of my CPR training out of the way this morning since I have to renew my certification every year. I have to go do the skills test tomorrow afternoon so hopefully it goes better than it has in the past. The mannequins don't work very well so I hate doing it. They are hooked up to the computer so it has to be done perfectly but the program is glitchy. I usually fail several times before I get it. I am also really bad at CPR so I hope I never get into a situation where I have to do it. I know I could do it but I'm not very strong. I also have to leave work and drive down the street because the education office isn't in the building anymore so hopefully I can find parking when I get back. It would be nice if I could just park in the parking garage but there are never spots in there anymore. I used to be able to park in there every day but I would have to show up at 5:30 in the morning just to get a spot now. It's annoying to have to park at the church but at least it has been nice out so I have been enjoying the walk lately.

I have been so emotional and teary eyed all day. I am trying to put a smile on my face but it's tough when all I want to do is scream and cry. I had to keep leaving the department so I could calm myself down. People keep asking me if I'm ok and I have to lie to them because I don't want to explain. I don't like losing my composure at work because I try to be bubbly and happy.

I am having a lot of trouble regulating my emotions and I want to be stable so bad. I haven't been eating enough at all and it's affecting my ability to make rational decisions so I'm sorry for being a basket case. I can't remember the last time I actually got groceries. My fridge is pretty much empty and I need to clean out the expired stuff soon. I have some canned food still. I will probably have soup for dinner. It's not much but it's better than eating nothing. I ran out of boost and I didn't want to stop to get more. I just wanted to come home.

I got off work 45 minutes early because it was slow and I didn't feel good. My heart was giving me trouble all afternoon but I know it's because of the muscle relaxers. It was scary but I had to keep moving. It is still bothering me a little bit but I think I will be ok if I take it easy for right now. I can't take muscle relaxers at all anymore unless I am in excruciating pain. I think it could also be due to a nutritional deficiency and stress. If my heart is still fluttering like this tomorrow, I am going to urgent care. I really don't want a TEE or a cardioversion now that I know how they are done. Those probes scare me. I wish I knew where my blood pressure monitor went but I will try to find it later. I think my blood pressure is high. I have enough problems and I don't want this to be an ongoing issue. I guess I am glad I have life insurance if something does happen to me so it doesn't bankrupt my family. I was thinking about writing a will earlier because I haven't made one yet but I think it's time to start thinking about that. I'm not trying to be pessimistic but it's good to plan ahead of time.

I am stressed because I have been over analyzing my behavior the past week. I didn't realize that my attachment issues were making me act the way I do and I am mad at myself for not realizing sooner. I don't know how to act now. I don't want to be a people pleaser but at the same time I don't want to make anyone unhappy or disappoint anyone. I just like to be nice. I am afraid to ask for any reassurance from anyone anymore. I am also too sensitive and get triggered so easily. I take everything so personally and I hate it. I don't know how to soothe myself I guess. I rub my own feet at the end of the day. I do everything I possibly can for myself. I don't want to be needy.

I also don't want to be overbearing and clingy. I am afraid to show too much affection now because I don't want to be annoying or make anyone mad for being too affectionate. I know you aren't my boyfriend but I like sending you nice things and I thought it made you happy but I don't want to seem desperate or needy. It's so hard because all I want to do is hug you and kiss you. I want to be loving without smothering you. I guess I'm not sure how to do that. I don't know how I should act. I can't meet other people's expectations if I don't know what they are.

I'm not trying to discourage you from talking to me. I don't know how to take the pressure off of you either. I have been trying to be more encouraging but maybe I am bad at it. I don't know what I'm doing.

As an autistic person, navigating relationships is such a challenge. I already have a tough time understanding social cues sometimes so all of this is very overwhelming and confusing. I wonder if I would handle all of this more gracefully if I was neurotypical.

I realize that other people aren't responsible for my happiness but I don't think I am going to find peace until I talk to you. I can't help it. Nothing else is working. I just can't handle it but I know you don't feel like you are ready. I think a couple years from now, you are going to feel silly for waiting so long. There is nothing to be afraid of. I am not trying to put pressure on you. I am just being honest. I wish I was as strong as you are. You are very stubborn sometimes but I know I can be that way too. I love you anyway. 💖💖💖

I want to be ok and be calm. I would love to talk to a therapist but I can't talk about this situation without them thinking I am crazier than I actually am. I don't want them to try to diagnose me with schizophrenia because I know I'm not that bad. It's so hard to find a good therapist. I saw a psychiatrist a few times when I was a teenager but for some reason my mom didn't want me to go back there so I stopped going. They were helpful so I wish I could have kept going. I have had a lot of bad therapists unfortunately. I had to go to therapy when my parents got divorced and that was awful. I'm pretty sure that was ordered by the court so I didn't have a choice. Hopefully I can find someone to talk to in the future. They offer counseling through a program at work but I don't know when I am supposed to do that.

I wish I had some friends to hang out with to distract me. I miss going out and having fun. I miss having girls to hang out with because I haven't gotten to do that since high school. It has been too long since I did anything. I am bad at planning stuff and reaching out to people first. It's just so hard to meet people with similar interests. I guess I could try to hang out with people from work but everyone just wants to go to the bar and drink all the time. I work with a lot of alcoholics unfortunately. Everyone is always stressed so I guess I get it. I wouldn't mind going out sometimes to have a couple drinks but I'm not trying to get wasted every weekend because that sucks. I don't know what other people do for fun around here. I know I will find friends someday.

I have been thinking about my family a lot. I'm so grateful for my dad and my grandma for being so supportive of me. I don't know what I would do without them.

I think my grandma is developing alzheimers because she is so forgetful. It could also be because she hit her head but I'm not sure. I can just tell she is starting to lose her memory and something is off. I am going to see her this weekend.

I have been thinking about my brother and sister a lot too. I wish they didn't act disgusted whenever they see me. They don't want me living here even though I try not to bother anyone. They don't say that but that's the vibe I get from them. I know I wasn't always a good sister but I'm a lot better now. I have learned a lot since I was helping take care of them. The other day I was coming home and my brother was getting ready to leave on his bike. I could tell he was trying to leave quickly because he was gone before I even got out of the car. He tries to avoid talking to me as much as possible. My sister doesn't respond when I talk to her most of the time. They are so nice to everyone else. It sucks because I remember begging my parents for a little brother or sister. I didn't think things would end up like this. I know they both grew up in a dysfunctional environment so I understand that they have some trauma from that. They never got a chance to have a "normal" childhood like I did. I am grateful that I got to experience that until I was 10 because it helped me a lot. I know that my dad has done his best to give them the best life he can. He works really hard and he is a good dad. It's hard being a single parent. I don't think that he is doing anything wrong. That's just the way they are. We all have mental health problems so I understand that. I think we all inherited some of the bad genes from my mom's side of the family but there's nothing we can do about that. I don't think there are as many mentally ill people on my dad's side of the family but my grandparents wouldn't discuss things like that when they were alive so I have no idea. I am hoping they will come around more as they get older. They might just have social anxiety around me because I'm kind of a stranger to them now. I worry about them a lot but I don't think they realize how much I care. All I can do is try to be nice.

My mom is also stressing me out because she won't stop being mean to me. She expects me to help her sort out her travel plans when she isn't even planning on staying here. She told me she expects me to come to Norfolk and be prepared to travel with her. I am not doing that. I wouldn't be safe going anywhere with her. I know she is sick but I can't handle her saying terrible things about the rest of the family. I had 70 unread messages from her this morning and reading them made me sick. She doesn't listen to a word I say and she will twist things around so I'm always walking on eggshells. If I say the wrong thing, she goes on a rant. I sent her a picture of myself recently and she was attacking me about my appearance. She got mad about my nose ring but I have had it since I was 14 so I don't know why it is such a big deal now. I'm afraid she would get pissed about my tattoos too. They make me feel pretty so it sucks to get shamed by the person that created me. She should accept me for who I am, not demonize me. It also seems like my grandma gets upset with me too because she doesn't seem to think I'm doing anything to try to work with her even though I have tried to explain that I have been but it's not going anywhere. It's very difficult to try to parent your own mother. I don't know if she is going to make it back here or not but I am scared to see her if she does. It's sad because I don't want to be afraid. I do want to see her one more time. I just don't know what is going to happen. She has to leave the shelter in North Dakota by June 1st so she is going to have to figure something out. I don't know how to help her when she fights with me about everything.

I am overwhelmed because the world is burning and I want to help people but I can't even help myself. I can't pour from an empty cup. I used to do a lot more than I have in the past couple years so I feel like I am failing everyone.

I have so much laundry and I think that accounts for 90% of the mess in my room. My dad offered to help me do my laundry and I appreciate him offering to do that but I don't think he realizes how bad it is. This is not his fault. It is just not possible to get another washing machine right now for a lot of reasons. He has enough to worry about and I don't want to add more stress. He already helps me so much with the cats, my car, and everything else. I wish that I could give back to him more.

Even if we did get another washing machine, I would be afraid to go down to the basement. I don't like going down there and I get an eerie feeling every time for some reason. I did have an experience when I was doing laundry a couple years ago shortly after moving back home that freaked me out. I was hanging up my clothes and I felt a warm hand rubbing my back. There was nothing behind me. I used to help my grandma with laundry all the time and I felt like it could have been her. I think it is also hard to go down there because that's where my grandpa's office used to be and I spent a lot of time down there when I was little. I think my grandparents are still here. I hear a lot of weird things. Sometimes I hear footsteps in my dad's room when I know there isn't anyone in there. It's obviously not an ominous presence but it is still weird to think about. I know they are watching over us.

I also feel weird about other people doing my laundry. I want to do it myself even if I can't make it to the laundromat. I like to be self-sufficient. I have been hand washing a lot of stuff lately because that's the easiest thing for me to do right now. It will probably take months to wash everything and sort it out. I don't have room to sort clothes in here. I have too much stuff in this little room. I miss having a clean room. I'm not sure how I am still somewhat functional when I live like this. I think everyone I know would be horrified if they found out.

I'm sorry for venting again. I just have a lot bottled up in my mind. I have been rambling about shit for a long time. I feel like I am getting my ass kicked mentally and physically. I'm tired of being so emotional all the time. I'm sorry for being that way so often. I promise that I'm not always like this.

I really shouldn't spend the whole night writing. I need to go make my soup I think. I will probably get ready for bed after that. I have been trying to find a new show to watch but it's hard. I have been watching a lot of documentaries. I haven't been in the mood for anything else. I wish it wasn't so hard for me to find something to watch. I have realized that I have hyperfixations so it's hard for me to try new things. Anyway, I need to relax. I think I will feel better tomorrow if I don't stress myself out too much. I need to try to stay positive and not get worked up over everything. Hopefully it will be a good day.

Thank you all for listening. I hope that everybody has a great day tomorrow. :) 💖💖💖

#personal

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galaxysharks · 2 years

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If I Could write the next Marvel Tv Show.

Premise: Shield/Sword has been keeping an eye on the population since the Accords were signed. They have identified several 'potentially dangerous' individuals (read:powerful and unaligned) and send out a representative to 'acquire' them by any means necessary. We follow one handler as he locates and assembles a team of these individuals.

The team:

Name: Robert Westfield

Alias: Handler 17

Age: 42

Base of Operations: Shield/Sword Headquarters

Bio: Handler 17 has been assigned the district of Manhattan to form a task force of powerful, but controlled individuals to be used at the disposal of his leaders. His objectives become complicated as his sense of empathy for his team makes callous control difficult, and he seeks better accommodations for his new family. #damnit #they're mine now I guess? # hey Fuck you Mike from sector 3, these are my kids.

Name: Jing Li

Alias: 幽灵骑士

Age: 23

Base of Operations: Chinatown, Manhattan

Bio: Ghostrider is a Chinese-American Trans woman that has recently come into her powers. The Spirit of Vengeance was summoned by the fury and hatred of a mob that cornered her behind a nearby bakery. Sparks from the spirits appearance ignited the loose flour in the air causing an explosion and leaving all but Li dead. With the assailants dead, the Spirit attached to the only survivor. Li lost an eye but gained an eternal protector. While mostly dormant, the Spirit can cause bursts of intense fury and strength which is only increasing as it lashes out. 17 tracks her for several days, asking locals but being misled at every turn by protective neighbors. He eventually finds her after the Spirit lashes out and nearly chars a burger to the bodega she buys mints from.

Name: Octavia Walsh & Stasis

Alias: Stasis

Age: 7

Base of Operations: Broadway, Manhattan, originally near West End in London.

Bio: a premature and incredibly sickly child, Octavia spent much of her early years fevered and delirious. Hacking into her medical records, she was found to be an ideal candidate for Bio-Mend, a shady organization with genetic testing facilities and a sector for bio-hazard removal as a front. Bio-Mend used her parents desperation to convince them to allow them to take Octavia to America to study her 'unique' biology and to cure her underdeveloped organs. Using their access to clean-up from symbiote destruction paths, the company spends years creating a variety of artificially combined specimens. While several escaped and began to destroy the facility, Stasis a purple and orange symbiote, scheduled to be destroyed for desplays of cowardice, latched on to the injured child and used their small size to access vents to escape into the streets. Now bonded, a separation of the two would certainly cause the death of both. 17 finds them hunting for mice and hiding inside awnings of building. Octavia seems only to speak to Stasis, and they remain skittish of noises and people.

Name: Hans Bauer

Alias: Dextrous

Age: 77

Base of Operations: Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan

Bio: Hans is a mechanical expert that repairs vintage toys and restores furniture. An alpha-level mutant with telekinetic abilites, Hans uses six broken mannequin hands to replace and supplement his own as they have withered away over time, becoming paralyzed in the process. His main source of joy is seeing how much his shop and his arms unnerve people. Fondly remembering when he cared for his nieces and nephews back in Germany, Hans frequently entertains local youths and passers by with his elaborate puppet shows on the street by his shop. 17 initially contacts him to build furniture for the base, but takes him on fully as he realized how ill equipped to care for his charges he is.

Name: Jose Spazey

Alias: Doppler

Age: 32

Base of Operations: East Harlem, Manhattan

Bio: Jose is a mutant with a sonic voice. The effects of the wave narrow and increase the farther they go, rather than decrease. In his youth, Jose honed his control by using his voice to explode paint cans from high-rises, or stalling birds at the park. Currently working as a bartender, Jose mostly uses his powers to break up fights or to discourage crime that bothers him. Handler 17 found him when he witnessed him shatter the pavement under a getaway car's wheels by whistling. Jose enjoys theater but hasn't gone since he saw a blob of 'oh hell no, that thing ate a damn dog' starring out from one of the theater signs.

#marvel hire me #Marvel #Ghostrider #Symbiotes #Mutants

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innatewellness · 2 years

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An Introduction To Impression Of Bio-resonance Expertise In Genetics And Epigenetics

Bear in mind; the magic to pesticides lies of their ability to paralyze the nervous system of insects. Old time farmers will recall seeing metal plunger contraptions with a refillable containers hanging around the farmhouse. Those gizmos had been used dispense numerous pesticide agents. All of the aforementioned brokers had one factor in common; they were… and nonetheless are… indeniable neuro toxins… and the plot thickens. Having written all of that; i wanna go on report stating that i'm not a hardcore believer that microbes cannot ever cause disease.

In regards to the exercise, listen to your physique. If you're feeling run down or really feel like you want a break then take one. When I learn this a part of my mind says "Wow there's a possible remedy" but one other part says "it is not potential to get a negative result after once getting this shit". For those who do not know, Jessica's family is quite well-known in her house country, but in spite of this, she still agreed to share her story . She, like every other herpes sufferer, was/is afraid of the backlash and repercussions which will result if people discovered. Within a few days my outcomes were again and my analysis confirmed....

Kinesiology Also known as human kinetics, is the scientific research of human motion. Kinesiology addresses physiological, mechanical, and psychological mechanisms. Chi Nei Tsang A hands-on holistic health follow of historic Chinese Taoist custom. Following the classical Taoist mannequin, Chi Nei Tsang concurrently heals the bodily, mental, emotional and spiritual elements of the person. If you’d like further steering and a personalized motion plan in your pet, we will recommend a pet nutrition specialist. We have a quantity of qualified unbiased contractors that we will recommend, as they've expertise with petChek results and we've received glowing suggestions from our shoppers.

Also, if you cannot hold it for 10 minutes, just go for as lengthy as you can. It's necessary that you've got got the oregano oil under the tongue so try and persevere with it should you can. I will maintain my eye on this web site and be in touch sooner or later and hope to reveal excellent news...

So I tried this protocol for three months but had plenty of planning for my little girl's 2nd birthday. I am going to begin again and going to do an herbal detox my acupuncturist is going to make for me. I'm a bit confused and would bioresonance allergy test love some clarity on a few issues. Also, I want to know whether it is okay to only do the first three steps, or is it a should to do the bht and lysine?

For certain individuals who have problems need more than people who are well. After I adopted a detox program I stopped taking vitamins and minerals because I believed I might get all I wanted from my meals since I ate very wholesome. I started having issues with my eyes itching. I started taking vitamin C supplements once more and the issue went away.

I did also make a roast this week with some Worcestershire sauce as one of the elements. It’s simply actually bizarre, as I have by no means cut all red meat. I’ve at all times has a small amount of purple meat since I first started the protocol. I haven’t taken a second test, as I had deliberate on waiting one year from my final test.

I’m guessing the website has been “sanitized” in an effort to keep away from regulatory motion. One of his students simplified the diagnostic system and created the Vegatest. Under the Riordan IVC protocol, the Riordan Clinic advocates a concentration of zero.1 to 1.0g of ascorbic acid per kilogram of body mass . Clinic Director, Dr. Elias Markou, ND, had been in non-public bioresonance allergy test follow for several years in another location in Mississauga previous to the opening of this clinic. Over the previous 20 years Dr. Lorne Swetlikoff has witnessed the importance and influence that naturopathic drugs could make to at least one's well being.

The oil ought to say if it's match for inner use . The Zane Hellas brand of OO is the best if you will get it. I actually have my own berries and cilantro though that I eat day by day. I did have a bit of grilled chicken breast a few days ago, the primary time in nearly three months. It was only a small piece that I didn’t even end. Hi, I was going through some of the older feedback and located that you simply said citrus and grapefruit can provoke outbreaks.

There have been days the place I would consume green tea instead of water but nowhere near 24 cups which has been researched to cause liver toxicity. Thank you in your reply concerning my elevated liver function numbers. My physician bioresonance allergy test ran another blood test and the numbers came back normal. I wrote to you again on Oct 19 with the worst a number of back-to-back outbreak I've had since beginning the protocol. At that point, I was 1 yr into the protocol.

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paganimagevault · 3 years

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Marvel Whiteside Parsons (aka Jack Parsons) & his wife/muse Marjorie Cameron

"When Parsons worked on his rocketry experiments in the desert he would recite a Pagan poem to Pan. Pendle doesn't see this as particularly strange, saying, "They were all young guys, it would have been like going into a huddle and shouting the name of your team."

John Whiteside Parsons (born Marvel Whiteside Parsons; October 2, 1914 – June 17, 1952) was an American rocket engineer, chemist, and Thelemite occultist. Associated with the California Institute of Technology (Caltech), Parsons was one of the principal founders of both the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) and the Aerojet Engineering Corporation. He invented the first rocket engine to use a castable, composite rocket propellant, and pioneered the advancement of both liquid-fuel and solid-fuel rockets.

As teenagers in the 1920s, a time when space travel was limited to science fiction novels, Wernher von Braun in Germany and Jack Parsons in Pasadena, CA shared an intercontinental rocket science correspondence. Talking for hours on the phone, they exchanged ideas, tips, and notes from experiments on everything from explosions to home-engineered rocket fuel tests. Into adulthood, they went on separate paths.

Born in Los Angeles, Parsons was raised by a wealthy family on Orange Grove Boulevard in Pasadena. Inspired by science fiction literature, he developed an interest in rocketry in his childhood and in 1928 began amateur rocket experiments with school friend Edward S. Forman. He dropped out of Pasadena Junior College and Stanford University due to financial difficulties during the Great Depression, and in 1934 he united with Forman and graduate Frank Malina to form the Caltech-affiliated Guggenheim Aeronautical Laboratory (GALCIT) Rocket Research Group, supported by GALCIT chairman Theodore von Kármán. In 1939 the GALCIT Group gained funding from the National Academy of Sciences (NAS) to work on Jet-Assisted Take Off (JATO) for the U.S. military. After the U.S. entered World War II, they founded Aerojet in 1942 to develop and sell JATO technology; the GALCIT Group became JPL in 1943.

In December 1958 JPL was integrated into the newly established National Aeronautics and Space Administration, having built the Explorer 1 satellite that commenced America's Space Race with the Soviet Union. Aerojet was contracted by NASA to build the main engine of the Apollo Command/Service Module, and the Space Shuttle Orbital Maneuvering System. In a letter to Frank Malina, von Kármán ranked Parsons first in a list of figures he viewed as most important to modern rocketry and the foundation of the American space program. According to Richard Metzger, Wernher von Braun—who was nicknamed "The Father of Rocket Science"—once argued that Parsons was more worthy of this moniker. In October 1968 Malina, a pioneer in sounding rocketry, gave a speech at JPL in which he highlighted Parsons' contribution to the U.S. rocket project, and lamented how it had come to be neglected, crediting him for making "key contributions to the development of storable propellants and of long duration solid propellant agents that play such an important role in American and European space technology."

The same month JPL held an open access event to mark the 32nd anniversary of its foundation—which featured a "nativity scene" of mannequins reconstructing the November 1936 photograph of the GALCIT Group—and erected a monument commemorating their first rocket test on Halloween 1936. Among the aerospace industry, JPL was nicknamed as standing for "Jack Parsons' Laboratory" or "Jack Parsons Lives". The International Astronomical Union decided to name a crater on the far side of the Moon Parsons after him in 1972. JPL later credited him for making "distinctive technical innovations that advanced early efforts" in rocket engineering, with aerospace journalist Craig Covault stating that the work of Parsons, Qian Xuesen and the GALCIT Group "planted the seeds for JPL to become preeminent in space and rocketry."

Parsons and Cameron decided to travel to Mexico for a few months, both for a vacation and for Parsons to take up a job opportunity establishing an explosives factory for the Mexican government. On June 17, 1952, a day before their planned departure, Parsons received a rush order of explosives for a film set and began to work on it in his home laboratory. An explosion destroyed the lower part of the building, during which Parsons sustained mortal wounds. His right forearm was amputated, his legs and left arm were broken and a hole was torn in the right side of his face. Despite these critical injuries, Parsons was found conscious by the upstairs lodgers. He tried to communicate with the arriving ambulance workers, who rushed him to the Huntington Memorial Hospital, where he was declared dead approximately thirty-seven minutes after the explosion. When his mother, Ruth, learned of his death she immediately took a fatal overdose of barbiturates.

Pasadena Police Department criminologist Don Harding led the official investigation; he concluded that Parsons had been mixing fulminate of mercury in a coffee can when he dropped it on the floor, causing the initial explosion, which worsened when it came into contact with other chemicals in the room. Forman considered this likely, stating that Parsons often had sweaty hands and could easily have dropped the can. Some of Parsons' colleagues rejected this explanation, saying that he was very attentive about safety. Two colleagues from the Bermite Powder Company described Parsons' work habits as "scrupulously neat" and "exceptionally cautious". The latter statement—from chemical engineer George Santymers—insisted that the explosion must have come from beneath the floorboards, implying an organized plot to kill Parsons. His death has never been definitively explained.

...

In 1936 these founders of what would become the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, CA conducted their first rocket tests in the Arroyo Seco, and were soon after commissioned by the U.S. Army Air Corps to develop “jet-assisted take-off” rockets. In 1942 Parsons co-founded the rocket and missile manufacturer Aerojet but by 1944 he was bought out and his affiliations with military and government projects were terminated. Parsons died tragically from fatal injuries after a presumed accidental explosion in his home laboratory. I started digging into both von Braun’s and Parsons’ stories separately but simultaneously. At first, I did not know that there was a concrete link between them. I was looking at the type of person that it takes to want to go to the moon and conquer space. They were both eccentric, driven, self-centered and had dreamed of going to the moon when space travel was confined to science-fiction novels. In my mind there was a link between them purely based on their personalities. I was thrilled to find out that they actually knew each other and, as teenagers, had talked on the phone about their experiments. This was in the 1920s and they were both members of their respective rocket clubs.

...

One of the group's key innovations was developing Jet-Assisted Take Off (JATO) engines for the US Air Corps, with Parsons developing a restricted burning solid rocket fuel that was stable enough to be stored indefinitely. The engine technology and fuel were commercialised through a company called Aerojet, where Parsons became project engineer. Versions of this fuel was eventually used by Nasa in the Space Shuttle as well as in military ballistic missiles.

In Pendle's view, Parsons is the founding father of rocketry and should be recognised as such. This sentiment is echoed by a number of his colleagues, including Wernher von Braun and Malina, who felt as though his contributions to American space technology had been neglected. "If you are looking for a conspiracy it's not his death, it's why he's been wiped from history. There is much more room for mavericks now than there was in the 1940s and 50s." , there's no mention of him as a founder," continues Pendle. "He may be referenced briefly in the footnotes, but it's the occult side of his life that keeps his light burning, not the science." Wired.co.uk contacted JPL and we asked whether Parsons had been written out of the history books. Historian Erik Conway said: "Jack Parsons is included in history books and other venues, and in fact, his role is discussed in the JPL-involved standard history, JPL and the American Space Program by Clayton R. Koppes. Parsons was one of the original founders of JPL. He was the team's chemist and developed the first castable solid propellant used to power aircraft."

...

Parsons died in an explosion of mysterious origin at his chemical laboratory at home in Pasadena on June 17, 1952. His second wife and collaborator, the artist Cameron, preserved and carried on his work until her death in 1995. In 1972 the International Astronomical Union named a crater on the moon (37°N 171°W) after Parsons in recognition of his pivotal role in developing the solid fuel rocket."

-taken from sources below (you can find sources on my blog post, there's more images and info on there also)

https://paganimagevault.blogspot.com/2022/01/marvel-whiteside-parsons-aka-jack.html

#jack parsons #pan #pagan #paganism #science #astronomy #chemistry #engineering #rocket #outer space #inventors #nasa #history #magic #pioneer #united states #us history #marjorie cameron #wernher von braun

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choco-courtier · 2 years

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Okay i said i was gonna continue talking about the Sheikah Automaton au in this post so here goes-

Real quick thing for reference tho; ten thousand years is a Long Time, it’s around how far back our own records of human civilization as a whole goes, and 10k years in the past being when the botw era was at it’s technological peak means loz is Super Fucking Old But Lunav! You’re saying, we already know the loz universe is ancient! Why are you reminding us? Well because this whole paragraph is just me outlining my excuse for doing whatever i want with the aesthetics and details of the 10k setting.

So with that preamble out of the way, here’s my actual thoughts on this au:

First thing’s first, to play into the ancient civilization look i’m gonna include ancient greek aesthetics, clothing, architecture, words when i trust i have the right definition and so on (which will make for some interesting looks when combining ancient greek stuff with stereotypical medieval things)

And because i’m very proud of these, here’s the names for the 10k royal family: Queen Zelda Hythena* Hyrule, King/Prince-consort* Bosphemus Hyrule and Princess Zelda Agape* Hyrule *Hythena to sound like Athena, greek goddess of wisdom. *I can’t decide between king or prince-consort so i put both. *Agape is the greek word for love of everyone, the exact virtue you’d want your future queen daughter to have.

And now onto the actual subject of this au: Link is a guard for thirteen year old Zelda commissioned by the royal family, originally they were just going to give her a normal hylian guard but Zelda insisted.

-and the king and queen also saw an opportunity to test the limits of the Sheikah’s skill, but not in a ‘see if they’re worthy’ way, more like a ‘keep an eye on this concerningly powerful group’ way.

Side note; Link is purposely designed to be very short as to not intimidate thirteen year old four foot something Zelda, but this ends up just being comical cus she inherits Hythena’s Tall GenesTM when she hits her growth spurt

When Zelda first ‘got’ Link she was so consistently unnerved by his blank mannequin look that she started dressing him up in her most over-sized clothes, eventually the servants took pity and just started putting him in clothes that actually fit, Zelda was ecstatic and even managed to weasel her way into getting him a wig and hat to complete the look

Before this Link didn’t really have a name, sometimes people called him ‘the little guard’ or ‘the little one’s guard’ or something like that, but the name Link caught on and stuck once he had the getup

I just realized i haven’t mentioned how Link works mentally At All so i’ll fix that

At first he is just a machine, about on par with the Guardians but with more personalized functions (Ex. Follow Zelda’s commands unless they include X, follow the king and queen’s commands no matter what, bow to these people, and so on) but his programming also included problem solving and self teaching functions so they wouldn’t have to send him back every time he bumped into a a situation he didn’t have a protocol for.

-And so this mixed with Zelda’s habit of thinking aloud to make for Link developing increasingly complex conversational skills as to follow what she was saying and make sure she wasn’t planning anything dangerous and if so how to redirect her without upsetting her too much

(Small side note: Ancient Sheikah tech pretty much had it’s own version of binary like from star wars, Link can only speak in this but understands hylian fluently)

And of course more conversation skills = understanding the concepts being talked about, which dominoed directly into sentience after awhile

okay it feels abrupt to end here and i do have more things to talk about, but they’d be spoilers and i want to see if this goes anywhere before i show my hand

#loz au #botw #botw2 #botw au #Zelda #Link #sheikah tech #botw 10k hero #botw ancient hero #botw 10k princess #Lunav rambles #sheikah automaton au #that's all i can think to tag #i feel like there should be more #tapestry hero #botw tapestry hero #i knew i was forgetting something

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cdyssey · 2 years

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Family [1/3]

Prompt: Set roughly during "The Tower" (3x14) in the Missing Year, Snow accompanies Regina to her family's estate to search for clues about Zelena. The princess is loathe to admit it, but so many events are weighing on her mind—her impending pregnancy, her husband's strange reaction to it, and the fact that she's pretty sure that both he and Regina are lying to her about something or another, but even still, she clings to hope. Snow Queen. Snowing. Pre-OQ.

CW: Suicidal Thoughts | AO3 Link

—

She’s just told David that she’s pregnant, that they’re going to have another child together, and he’s holding her against his chest, and he’s saying all the right things, but none of it feels right. His body is too tense, his calloused fingers stiff where they’re lightly tangled in her long hair, and when she’d first said the words aloud, his eyes had assumed the same wild look of the prey she’d used to guiltily shoot during her bandit days.

Are you not happy?

No.

No, I’m not… I’m thrilled.

But he hadn’t sounded particularly thrilled; he hadn’t looked it either.

She tries her husband again, tests him, gingerly pushing away so she can properly see his face, but when she scrutinizes him closely, there’s nothing amiss as far as she can tell. His smile is appropriately charming, his laugh sure, and with a quick shake of her head, Snow settles into herself again; she justifies, she rationalizes, she believes, and has faith.

He just woke up, she tells herself.

He’s thrilled.

“We’ll build the nursery in Regina’s summer closet,” he jokes, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “That chamber is big enough to be a grown man’s bedroom.”

“She’ll hate that,” Snow can’t help but laugh, always strangely touched by the daily reminder that whatever horrors Regina had inflicted upon them once upon a time, she essentially lives right down the hall from them now—a friend.

Family even.

It is one of the princess’s most distant childhood dreams come true, reified every time she sees her former stepmother sitting in the chair next to hers in the dining hall, just as she had done when they were both so young, the fledgling princess and the beautiful Queen.

Granted, it’s still horribly complicated—as the finer details tend to be with her once mortal enemy. Regina is hurting deeply over the loss of Henry, and time has done little to heal her wounds. Some days, talking to her is like trying to turn a jagged knife into a spoon, and on those days, maybe turning a knife into a spoon would be the far easier task. She invests so much of her energy into sequestering herself away, snapping at people on better days and generously raiding the wine cellar on worse ones, rebuking nearly every effort Snow has put into reaching out to her.

Snow misses Emma and Henry, too, of course—every single day—but she has Charming, and she has faith that they’ll all eventually find each other again. And when they do, there might already be a new addition to their ever growing family. So, yes, the grief is always with her, settled in her stomach like a dull and pervasive ache, but there is also solace in believing in the possibility of a happy ending.

There is hope, and she has to hold on to that elusive but ever shining ideal no matter what; it’s her only defense against the darkness, against the voices that threaten to swirl in her head and tell her that she isn’t enough, that she’s always been a failure, and she’ll never be a good mother. She wasn’t to Emma, and how could she ever be to another—

She has to have hope, or else, well… she’d be down with Regina in the cellar, three bottles deep.

“Good,” Charming grins boyishly, embracing her again, lowering his chin against the crown of her head. But his body still feels like a wooden mannequin against her own, and Snow frowns into the silky fabric of his nightshirt.

“She owes us that, at least,” he continues softly—seriously even—his fingertips flexing restlessly into the thin cotton of her gown.

We’re having a baby.

Regina owes us.

It isn’t lost on Snow that these are conversations that she and her husband have had before.

—

David gets dressed quickly—(rather too quickly, really)—and says that he’s going to head down to debrief with the morning patrol. Go on to breakfast without him. He’ll see her at the daily council meeting afterwards. And he’d given her another crooked smile as he had said it, but this one looked tight on his lips, pale and unnatural.

Something’s weighing on her husband’s mind heavily. She pulls on a dress that is a little tighter around her midsection than it was a month ago and tries on a smile that’ll suggest to her friends that everything is okay.

Because it is, yes?

She’s having a baby.

At breakfast, she tells Red and Granny and Jiminy and the dwarves, all of whom have been there for her, her dearest and closest friends. Granny promises to start mixing up some herbal supplements, and Grumpy accidentally slaps her a little too hard on the back with celebratory glee. (“My bad, sis.”) Jiminy chirps soft affirmations in her ear, and Red—always the most perceptive to the nuances in Snow’s smile—congratulates her but knowingly says they’ll talk later.

Her smile falters, just for a second, at this unwanted perceptiveness, but she readily picks up her face again when Red turns away.

She’s having a baby.

And she continues to smile throughout breakfast, even when the Merry Men who were on the morning patrol come into the dining hall without David. (Where is he if he’s not debriefing with them anymore? Why had he behaved so strangely this morning? Was it because of her? Emma? The baby? Or all of them together—their charming, messed up, little family?)

And then, along her husband's unknown whereabouts, there’s also the conspicuous absence of Regina; she hadn’t been on the morning patrol, and no one’s seen her since roughly yesterday when she’d been brushing her horse in the stables. It’s not altogether unusual for the Queen to skip the communal meals, having never been much of a socializer… nor eater frankly, but still, Snow can’t help but feel a little disappointed that she wasn’t around to hear the announcement.

Oh, she knows it’s psychologically unfathomable that she wants to see the reaction of the woman whose total villainy destroyed the happiness of her last pregnancy and ensured that she didn't get to raise her own daughter, but as everyone from her own husband to Rumplestiltskin has pointed out, she’s always been a little strange when it comes to Regina. She truly believes that the Evil Queen has changed for the better, and she’s simultaneously selfish insomuch as she wants to capitalize on this very fact as much as Regina will allow, rebuilding their relationship on the foundation of where it had once so completely collapsed. Perhaps she still feels a morsel of what David apparently does—that Regina owes them for what she did—but her commitment to not losing her again is far stronger than any desire to see justice fairly doled out.

If justice was perfectly meted in this world, all of them would be found wanting.

(She isn’t enough. Always a failure. Wasn’t a good mother to Emma. How could she ever be to another child? She killed Cora. Stole Maleficent’s baby. Told a secret so many decades upon decades ago.)

Friends surround her in the dining hall. They clasp her hands, they hug her, and they tell her they’re so happy for her, but she misses her family, the few people who understand her.

She needs them.

—

She hears Regina’s distinctive drawl near the grand staircase as she’s wandering the halls, vainly looking for David.

“Don’t call it a bribe, Thief,” the Queen says harshly as Snow awkwardly ducks into the spacious alcove on the side of the staircase. It’s just her and a brutally polished suit of armor, all stiffened joints. “It’s not that. It’s a gift. Haven’t you forest people ever heard of those before?”

“As condescending as ever, your Majesty,” she hears Robin Hood reply, faint amusement in his accented voice. “We do have gifts in the forest, but bear in mind that I also know when there are strings attached to quivers full of gold-tipped arrows. I’m a seasoned outlaw, and I know what hush money looks like when I see it.”

“Then take it and hush,” Regina hisses, and Snow can all but envision the sneer enlivening the woman’s face, how it stretches her pointed and painted features in grotesque ways. There's a distinctive clatter that she's fairly sure is the sound of the Queen shoving the quiver into Robin's chest.

“If you know what’s good for you.”

“Is that a threat, milady?” Robin’s tone pitches up in clear irritation, and Snow’s thinking that now might be a good time to jump out of the alcove and interrupt things—make sure that the situation doesn’t escalate any further—but her fellow bandit beats her to the punch. “Because I don’t believe you’re as good at making those as you used to be.”

A terrifying beat of silence.

Snow admires the outlaw’s audacity and fears for him because of it; not many people have the guts to be so candid with Regina, and usually, when they do, it doesn’t particularly end well for them. Yes, nowadays she’s more likely to transport mouthy offenders fifteen feet outside into the bitter cold than set them on fire, but still, so many people continue to think of her as the Evil Queen, and they watch her for any minor slip-up, looking for the slightest excuse to tie her to the stake if she falls.

But to her surprise (and unending relief), after the long pause, her former stepmother only exhales softly, the gesture audibly exhausted and so terribly sad.

“Just… be discreet, okay?” She asks, and it’s not quite a plea because the queen never begs, but it’s not exactly a simple request either, charged with implicit meaning. “If you must, tell people they’re… tokens of appreciation for your assistance lowering the shield.”

“I’ll keep your secret,” Robin replies earnestly, “but not because you gave me golden arrows or because I'm intimidated by you, but because I’m wor—“

“Don’t,” she fiercely cuts across him, sounding much more like her usual imperial self, but this illusory facade seemingly shatters as quickly as it had appeared, her voice small and broken there in the end. “Just… don’t.”

“Your Majesty—“

But then there’s a whooshing noise that Snow recognizes to be Regina poofing herself away in a swirl of purple smoke, leaving a coughing archer in her wake.

—

When she’s sure that Robin is gone as well, listening as he exits through the main entranceway, Snow finally emerges from the alcove and idly rubs her belly, thinking of all that she had just heard. Regina had apparently given the archer golden arrows in exchange for him keeping quiet about something. She presumes that the alluded to event must have happened while they were alone in the castle, and a little nauseously wonders if the Queen’s secret has anything to do with the cryptic note that David found in Snow’s saddlebag that first night: The day we met, I saved your life. Thank you for trying to save mine.

She’d been too cowardly to confront Regina about it, thoroughly relieved just to find her alive in the castle, and desperately afraid to receive an explicit confirmation that the missive had been a final goodbye. But still, her suspicions have only been ignored, not entirely dispelled—and perhaps they've been even heightened by the older woman’s continual recklessness here in the Enchanted Forest, where her preferred battle strategy has been fight first and worry about accumulated injuries later.

Snow for one is sick of seeing her former stepmother covered in her own blood—careless, proud, and so damn stubborn.

(And in her darkest nights, when she nightmares about Emma and Henry and vast, purple clouds enveloping her home of thirty years, she wonders to herself if every wound Regina receives is a passive form of suicide, committed again and again but never entirely sticking—cuts, bruises, scrapes, tears, and burns.)

(She fears that one day, she's going to wake up to find the body of an entirely victorious Queen, still and pale, laid out on a cold and lonely bier just like her mother and her father and Johanna and—)

(It's a silly thought, she tells herself on those nights. Just another stupid dream.)

As she ascends the staircase to the second landing, she thoughtfully concludes that Robin Hood knows something about the Queen's elusive heart that she doesn’t, but rather than use that information to his advantage, he’s genuinely concerned about her. He’s keeping her secret because he wants to, not because he’s receiving an elaborate gift in return.

Snow briefly smiles at the thought—comforted by the idea that there’s someone else besides herself looking out for Regina in this forest—but her contentment fades rapidly, brutally replaced with the same intuition that she’d felt only just this morning when her own husband had surely lied about being happy about their baby. In a similar vein, she’s being shut out from some aspect of Regina’s life yet again.

After all, it was the older woman’s insistence on letting her anger and pain over Daniel fester that had started the worst of their mutual troubles in the first place, and now here they are again some thirty years later, together in the same castle and simultaneously so far apart.

Doubts seize through her mind, bitter thoughts that condemn and ruin her. The people she loves most don’t trust her, and why should they? Why should David trust that this pregnancy will turn out better than the first? Why should Regina entrust her with another secret after what happened to the last? She’s always been a failure, and she’ll never be a good mother. She wasn’t to Emma, and so how could she ever be to another—

She frantically increases her efforts to find either David or Regina one before the council begins but to no avail; neither party is at their usual haunts inside the castle, and the session is too soon for her to scope the grounds without being late. She’ll have to settle with seeing them in the chamber that they designated to be their temporary war room.

But there’ll be no time for talking once the meeting begins with all eyes on her—their perfect leader, the ever smiling Snow White.

—

“Where’ve you been?” Snow demands under her breath, somewhat angrily, when David makes it into the council room only a few minutes before the enchanted sundial on the floor indicates that it’s ten. He had come in with Robin Hood, the two of them chuckling quietly amongst themselves, before assuming his place beside her at the round table.

“Strategizing with Robin,” he returns softly, pressing a gentle hand into the small of her back. Her nose wrinkles at the faintest whiff of ale she can smell on his breath, the oaky notes inelegantly disguised by the mint leaf he’s chewing. “I’m… er… going hunting with him today to see if we can track an elk herd. We’ll be fed through the winter if we can down a few.”

“Uh-huh,” she narrows her eyes at her husband accusingly. “You hate hunting.” He’s a shepherd whose experience with animals mostly resides with domesticated sheep, and he’s also a swordsman who couldn’t properly string a bow if Robin Hood himself gave him lessons, which is supposedly what is happening.

“Different times, different measures,” he mutters, not quite meeting her in the eye, his face every bit as waxen as it had been this morning when she’d first told him she was pregnant. “I’ve got a family to provide for—a kingdom.”

But just as she opens her mouth to call him out on the blatant lie, to maybe even take a shot about the liquor he’s clearly been drinking, Regina finally sweeps in, wearing a maroon riding coat and shiny leather boots that nearly ride all the way up to her thighs. She determinedly doesn’t look at Robin as she drapes herself into the only available chair next to his, and with her arrival—she’s not sorry she’s late—the council begins.

It’s purely bureaucratic at first. Granny gives the rundown on food rations, and Blue says that she and the fairies are still trying to figure out a way to return them all to Storybrooke. Grumpy explains that the castle grounds are becoming overpopulated with tents from displaced citizens; they’ll need to start clearing some trees soon to make some more room, as well as to gather firewood for the impending winter.

“You can prepare the eastern perimeter for tree removal,” Regina says with a lazy wave of her hand, not even bothering to look at the map the dwarves have spread out. “It’ll allow for easier access to the brook if some of that undergrowth is cleared. And perhaps we can even utilize it as a source for a new well.”

There are appreciative, if begrudging, nods around the table at the practical suggestion. Regina, for whatever her many faults are, is an excellent leader when she isn’t terrorizing the lives of countless thousands of people.

David proposes his and Robin’s hunting trip to general approval, and it doesn’t escape Snow’s careful notice that the archer briefly bites his lip at this, though his expression is otherwise inscrutable.

“We’ll head north with a party and mark the tracks of the elk herd,” the archer elaborates with the confidence of a lifelong hunter. “Half of my band will continue following the quarry for a few days, while the other half will keep to the local boundaries and bag a few birds before returning to the castle. I want to ensure there are enough trained marksmen around for night patrols.”

“And you’ll be staying locally?” Snow asks her husband, receiving a nod and a cheeky grin in reply.

“You betcha—I’m not stupid enough to try any archery lessons leagues away from a healer.”

She isn’t sure if this either confirms or disproves her working theory that he’s not actually going hunting at all, but all the same, she’s at least comforted by the notion that he won’t be gallivanting across the dangerous mountain ranges where the Merry Men usually like to hunt. A thin sigh of relief filters through her nostrils before she turns to Robin.

“And how about you?“ She asks kindly, not entirely surprised when his answer is—

“Local too, your Highness,” he smiles gallantly, flashing his brilliant teeth. “Someone has to tuck my lad into bed, and after that, I shall join a night patrol… those winged beasts have been rooting around the Queen’s magical shield with more insistence lately. It bothers me that they’re so determined to dig beneath her defenses...”

Where Regina’s bored expression had incrementally softened at the mention of Roland, ferocity takes over at a perceived (and nonexistent) slight to her prowess.

“Like hell they will,” she growls petulantly, glaring at the man sitting to her immediate left, and it strikes Snow that this is surely the first time that the two have interacted since that overheard conversation in the vestibule. But despite the sensitive nature of that exchange—despite Robin's sincere concern for the Queen, despite the rare vulnerability that Regina had so fleetingly shown, despite the profound secret that apparently exists between them—neither of them seem to be acknowledging those nuances now, easily falling back into their usual verbal warfare. “It’ll take much more than some simian freaks to make it past my barriers.”

“Not saying they were going to, your Majesty,” Robin snorts, arching a waggish brow. When he shifts in his seat, his quiver rattles and the golden arrows he was only recently bequeathed catch in the sunlight pouring in through the arches. Bribes. Gifts. Hush money. Snow sees that her former stepmother’s darkly painted lips have drawn back into a dangerous sneer. “Your listening skills leave much to be desired.”

“You cretinous, little—“

“Okay, you two!” David interrupts them loudly before they can really hit their stride, banging the tip of his sheathed sword against the marbled floor to get their attention. “We don’t really have time for this. Regina, you’re supposed to be coordinating our offensive strategies. Have you got anything new to tell us?”

For a second there, Snow isn’t entirely convinced that she’s going to back off of Robin, her entire body taut with visible irritation, but finally, the Queen only sighs deeply, nods at Charming, and then, as plainly as day—with a frankly obscene lack of hesitation—offers up one of the most idiotic plans she’s ever proposed.

Which is genuinely saying something given Regina’s track record with idiotic plans.

“I’m going to visit my parents’ old estate,” she says, very purposefully shifting her heavy gaze to Snow, her dark eyes determined and unflinching, clearly expecting a fight and perhaps very well spoiling for one. “It’s high time that I learn as much about my sister as possible to know what we’re up against. Perhaps Cora left something behind in her personal vault there—something we can exploit and use against the wicked bitch.”

“No,” Snow snaps immediately, earning a silent snarl that has long stopped fazing her. “Absolutely not. It’s not safe. Your mother—“

“—is my mother, Snow,” Regina cuts across her with an air of vicious finality, folding her arms across her tightly corseted torso. “I know her. I know her magic. I can disarm any traps she may have set and return without any lasting repercussions.”

It’s the tiniest of slips, but still, it’s a rare miscalculation of speech, and Snow jumps on it in the same instant that Regina realizes her error with an under-the-breath curse.

“But there are repercussions, aren’t there?” She presses insistently, her lips curving upwards into a smug smile. Had Regina been just a degree more careful, she wouldn’t have intimated that there were consequences at all, but she did, and she bristles rather childishly at having been caught. “Yes, that’s what I thought. Cora’s vault is dangerous—even to you, Regina.”

Perhaps especially to you, she wants to say but doesn’t dare, well-aware that Cora’s abysmal conception of motherhood is an off-limits topic, and Regina only leers at her from across the table, as though she can read her mind on this crucial but unspoken point.

Robin raises an inquisitive brow, looking between the two women rather perceptively.

“Why would your mother’s vault be dangerous, milady?” He frowns, his gaze settling decisively upon Regina, those rich blue eyes kindled with unmistakable concern. Again, Snow is touched by the archer’s persistence in worrying for Regina, and she idly wonders if, despite everything, he might actually like her.

If there’s chemistry and mutual attraction between the both of them beneath all the brutal snark.

If this could very well be the beginning of something.

Maybe.

If Regina would stop lashing out and saying things like, “It’s hardly any of your business, Thief. Now go stick an arrow up your ass or something.”

Snow quickly intercepts as Robin opens his mouth, presumably to tell her something to the effect of, after you, milady.

“Which is code for the fact that Regina’s mother—” She bites her lower lip, suddenly reticent, pretty sure that she doesn’t have much of a right to speak on Cora; she killed her after all, and the reminder of that black spot on her heart haunts her every day, echoed back to her nearly every time she stares into Regina’s dark eyes. And now, at the mention of her mother, those same eyes are boring into her intensely, surely swirling with the memories of a woman who had it in her to crush the heart of her daughter’s first love. The princess swallows—temporarily frozen and overwhelmed and so, so guilty—but Charming squeezes her knee beneath the round table, grounding her, giving her the strength to finish the sentence. “—was a very powerful sorceress, and she’d surely take certain measures to protect her possessions…”

She trails off rather weakly at this but doesn’t look away from Regina. She doesn’t think she has the right to do that either with as much as they’ve gone through at the hands of the same dead woman. But to her surprise, her former nemesis doesn’t look particularly incensed—not any more than she usually does anyway—at the carefully worded evaluation. In fact, her next words are delivered with a certain degree of—not kindness, exactly—but self-possession, each syllable carefully measured and quietly delivered.

“Correct,” she nods thoughtfully, “which is why I’m going there alone. No need to expose anyone else to my mother’s twisted ideas of fun…”

It’s a long cry from the throaty rage she’d leveled at Snow on her front porch mere months ago when the princess had been at her lowest, when she’d thought that death was the only palatable alternative to living with the darkness she had wrought. Not even a few days later, Regina had apparently come to a similar conclusion when she centered all of her magic on the destructive failsafe she had made, prepared to sacrifice herself to save Henry—to save them all. The fundamental difference between the two suicide attempts was that one of them had been inherently selfish… and it hadn’t been Regina’s.

This was all less than a year ago.

So much has changed between them since then.

“You’re not going either,” Snow protests again, as vehement as Regina is strangely reserved. “We’ll find a way to beat Zelena that doesn’t involve you potentially getting hurt.”

She supposes this is where she’s the one who screws up, careless with her wording, ignorant of the irony that Regina so effortlessly identifies. She laughs mirthlessly, the gesture chillingly flat in her eyes.

“How naïve of you to think this’ll end any other way, Snow.”

“Regina—“ She exhales painfully, stricken, and suddenly, so completely terrified for her former nemesis’s wellbeing. How does this woman always accept the possibility of her own pain so easily? How has she come to regard its presence as the only reliable norm in her life? But before she can turn her shock into another plea, Regina has turned towards David again, determination in the set of her jaw.

“You know I’m right, Charming,” she appeals to him in a succinct voice before flicking her gaze around the entirety of the table: Granny, the dwarves, Blue, and even Robin, whose expression perhaps most closely matches the strain in Snow’s own. “We’ve played defensively far too long, and it’s time to start looking for answers before my sister decides to make a move that we can’t recover from. You’re a strategist, same as I am—this makes sense.”

David shifts uncomfortably in his chair—perhaps reacting to Regina’s insinuation that they’re alike in any way—but he doesn’t flinch. Snow thinks on the assessment for little more than a moment and arrives at the conclusion that it’s astonishingly apt; when they’re not being stubborn jackasses, her husband and once stepmother are both fairly logical individuals, approaching dangerous situations like chess players, and that’s what makes them effective leaders in times of crisis.

“You promise you won’t take any unnecessary risks?” He asks, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “That’s the only way I’m okaying this mission—I want your solemn word that you’re coming back here without so much as a scrape on your knee, Regina. And you’re taking someone with you.”

Regina immediately tries to protest, but David firmly cuts her off by raising his hand. “Save it. There needs to be someone with you just in case things go south or the witch shows up. You can take anyone you’d like, but you’re not going alone.”

“And who exactly is jumping at the bit to accompany the Evil Queen to her mother’s dark vault?” She scoffs, peering around the table with clear disdain, and Snow sees the reciprocal reluctance in her friends’ expressions, the incredible and firmly warranted dislike. It wasn’t just Snow whom the Queen had terrorized in her reign; it was an entire, sprawling kingdom. “Any of the seven dipshits?”

“Hey!” Grumpy snarls as his brothers bristle in unison, some even brandishing the small pickaxes perpetually hanging from their belts.

“Regina, dammit, quit antagonizing—“ David starts angrily, but the Queen talks over him, her eyes alight with a mad and maddening kind of humor.

“How about you, Thief?” She drawls thickly, turning to look at Robin, and Snow intimately recognizes what she’s doing—pushing everyone away so she can have her way, so she can go to that isolated manor on a hill and face her demons there alone.

“And what of me, your Majesty?” He asks with narrowed eyes, his voice deceptively light as she leans forward in her chair, the wood creaking beneath her shifting weight.

“Wouldn’t you love to have a chance to learn more about me and all the devastation I’ve caused? The innumerable, unspeakable horrors ? Would that turn you on?” She finishes, her voice deliciously sultry and so clearly an act, but no one else can see it. Granny and Blue and the dwarves—they’re all looking at her like she’s diseased—and Robin’s at a rare loss for words, his face flushed at the sudden proximity of the Queen’s weaponized cleavage. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Thief, like I’m someone worth getting to know. How about it then—want to play house with a psychopath?”

Some of the dwarves are standing up now, and David’s yelling at them to sit down, and Snow’s fists are clenched tightly on top of her gowned lap, trembling violently. She’s suddenly so angry at Regina for being such a consummate liar, for playing into her role as a villain and justifying it as a shield, a tool, and a readymade excuse.

“Enough, Regina,” she barks, slamming her hands on the table hard enough to cause multiple people to flinch. “I’m coming with you.”

“No,” her husband immediately says, unspeakable worry laden in just the one syllable, and for some reason, it reminds her of the fact that she’s pretty pissed at him too. They’re going to have a baby, and they’re supposed to be thrilled, but he’s been distant and untruthful all day—probably for some stupidly noble reason that they’re going to have a row about later. “You’re pregnant, Snow—you shouldn’t be traipsing around in magically boobytrapped vaults.”

“Hell to the no,” Regina agrees with him vigorously, seemingly shocked out of her seductress act, first by her genuine surprise at the initial proposition and then by David’s unexpected revelation, her gaze briefly darting downwards to Snow's stomach. A pang of disappointment trickles through her—she had wanted to tell Regina herself—but the ugly feeling is fleeting, giving way to awe at the Queen's next words. “It’s too dangerous for your pretty, little head.”

It's half an insult, and it's half... not?

It's not exactly the kindest gesture of care she's ever received, if it's even that.

But, no, it's Regina, and she's simply just trying to push her away so she can do this clearly reckless thing without interference.

That is it.

That is all.

“I appreciate the concern”—she levels both of them a glare that explicitly communicates that she does not, in fact, appreciate the concern—“but I’m not a child in case you’ve forgotten, and being pregnant isn’t synonymous with frailty, Charming." She enunciates his name scathingly, glad that he winces. "I’ve survived living in the woods for years. I’ve weathered countless curses. I’ve survived you for gods’ sake!” She directs this last part specifically at Regina, not even remotely regretful about dredging up all the bitter history between them, the cat and mouse games they used to so hatefully and lovingly play in this very forest. (It’s important to remember the darkness of where they came from, so they can be all the more appreciative of their reconciliation in the light.) “I can handle a vault. What I won’t handle is you two being overly precious about my safety.”

She haughtily regards each of them, the proud shepherd and the relentless Queen, her husband and her Regina, as though daring either of them to defy her wishes. It’s the lingering remnant of the spoiled princess in her, perhaps, someone very much accustomed to getting exactly what she wants, and in this ephemeral moment, what she wants most from the two people she’s closest to in this realm is for them to stop being dumbasses.

David stares at her incredulously, his gloved fingers taut where they still rest on her knee, but Regina, after blinking a few times in amazement, actually laughs, the sound harsh and vaguely crazed on her tongue.

“What?” David asks sharply. “What is it?”

But Regina only continues laughing, holding her stomach a little and shaking her perfectly coiffed head.

“It’s just, who would have ever thought, shepherd boy, that we’d be on the same page of trying not to get your wife killed by my mother and I?”

It’s ridiculous to imagine.

Absurd even given their storied past.

“I need a goddamn aspirin,” David only groans, pulling a hand across his pale brow, as Regina’s not entirely sound grin seems to unnerve the other members at the table far more than her insults had.

“She’s batshit insane,” Grumpy mutters under his breath.

“You’re telling me,” Granny shakes her head tiredly.

Snow giggles innocently at all of these exchanges, but particularly at the loaded look that her husband and former stepmother share, both resigned to their fates.

Defeated.

And Snow White only smiles at them, simply triumphant.

—

Snow and Regina ride with the hunting party all the way up to Hangman’s Fork—where there used to literally be a gallow for traitors to the Queen—but now, there are only flattened trees, rotted undergrowth, and two roads that diverge down a curse-destroyed wood. Regina, impressively regal on her black horse, her spine ramrod straight, rides ahead on the left path, while Snow briefly remains behind to say goodbye to her husband. When they pull their horses a few paces away from the Merry Men, David reaches over to place a hand on her arm.

“I’m still not okay with you doing this,” he murmurs, his frown so gentle and involved. He looks a lot like Emma in the moment, and the uncanny resemblance stings more than it soothes. “You’re pretty sure yourself that it’s going to be dangerous there—the question isn’t if but to what horrific extent.”

“Which is exactly why I’m going,” she says firmly, nodding towards the darkly dressed figure some ways ahead of them now. The Queen is wearing her hair in an elaborate twist today and her riding costume is intended to provoke rather than be functional, but still and nonetheless, Snow thinks about a young woman with a long braid down her back and an uncomplicated radiance in her eyes. She thinks of how painful it must be to know that she’s going back to the place where it all began.

And powerfully, it hits Snow, too, that this will only be the second time she’ll have returned to the Mills Estate since she and her father visited all those many years ago, since the King had proposed to Regina, since she had stumbled upon Regina and Daniel in the stables, since she had told a new friend’s secret to Cora Mills. She'd been on the grounds only once after that, when the Evil Queen had revealed what happened to her first love and entreated her to eat that cursed apple, so she could avoid the same fate.

Her stomach vaguely flips, and she’s pretty sure it’s not from any degree of morning sickness.

“I… I have to be there for her,” she finishes, her voice coming out as little more than a croak. “You know how she’s like these days.”

So careless, convinced that she’s doomed.

“And what about her?” David demands, his tone taking on a slightly harder edge, even as he reaches over to gently brush a stray curl behind her ear. “If it came down to it, would she be there for you?”

Snow hears the echo of their conversation from this morning in this particular set of questions.

She owes us that, at least.

Regina owes them.

And she wonders—not for the first time today—what sad and indefinite shadows lurk behind the hollows of her husband’s eyes. He’s not thrilled about this baby; he’s haunted, and he’s looking at her, and he’s looking at Regina, like they’re both ghosts from a bloody history.

And perhaps they are, all three of them. Perhaps their twisted past will forever be present with them, the darkly arranged specter that reminds them of just how fragile this all really is… but Snow is Snow, and the pillars of her convictions are immutable.

She has to believe that it’s possible to not only live with that fragility but to move beyond it—to let the past go so as to strive towards an infinitely brighter future.

“I… I think so,” Snow says, a little tentatively at first, but then, with more certainty, adds, “I know she would.”

The woman who gave up her own happiness so that Emma and Henry could have a good life is not the same woman who had tried to kill her over and over again for nearly a decade. She's far from the same girl who saved her from that runaway horse all those years ago, too, of course, but there's just enough of a resemblance there to give Snow hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll cross paths with that uncommonly kind stranger once again.

They both look up at Regina now to see that she’s staring back at them with clear impatience. Comically enough, her steed is just as restless as she is, stomping around a little in place.

“Go on then, and I’ll see you this evening,” Charming finally sighs, leaning down and pressing a kiss against her forehead. It’s a movement that’s made awkward by the tall bow slung across his back and his body’s clear unfamiliarity with how to move around with it.

“After your hunt, yes?” She purses her lips, watching him carefully as he scrambles to recover his balance on his white horse, his cheeks a little flushed.

“Yeah,” he breathes unconvincingly. “Mhm.”

Gods, he’s such a horrible liar, but Snow is generous. She graciously lets the moment pass and tells Robin to make sure that her husband doesn’t accidentally shoot himself—(“I’ll do my best, milady”), and in return, the archer wishes her good luck with the tempestuous Queen—(“I’ll make sure she doesn’t misbehave.”)

And then, feeling Charming’s eyes on her back the entire time, she rides onwards and catches up to Regina, so that their horses are side by side, one blindingly light and the other so perfectly dark.

Complementary opposites.

The horses.

Them.

"Regina," she nods.

"Snow."

The Queen searches her up and down with those perpetually calculating eyes before finally regarding her with what can only be classified as a feral smile.

“Do try and keep up, dear. I won’t ride easy on you.”

“Is that a challenge?” Snow raises a brow, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

“It always is.”

And without waiting for a reply, Regina breaks her horse into a full-speed gallop, not bothering to look behind when Snow so closely follows.

Perhaps she’s finally learned to expect it from her.

#regina mills #snow white #snow queen #david nolan #once upon a time #snowing #s: ouat #okay #my hyperfixation with regina mills just suddenly returned a few days ago #so i'm like #doing something with it <3 being productive #tw: suicidal thoughts #reginianwrites

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coldflame96 · 3 years

Text

Get in loser, we’re going shopping!

Summary: Before his second date with Tohru, Uotani and Hanajima stage a fashion intervention

Rating: T

Also on AO3 and FF.net.

Of all the people he'd expected to run into outside Shishou's dojo, it definitely wasn't Wave Girl and the yankee.

"Yo!" Uotani saluted, Hanajima silent beside her.

He furrowed his brow. "Tohru's not here."

"Yeah, we know."

"So why are you here?"

"For you."

....That never meant anything good. And he did not like the gleam in their eye.

Were they finally going to kill him…?

He made to bolt but felt two sets of arms loop through his own, halting him in place.

"O-oi! Let go!" He squirmed.

"Nah, you're coming with us."

"Coming with you where?" His voice cracked in annoyance. "And why can't you just ask like a normal person?"

"We knew you'd say no," Hanajima finally spoke, voice as monotone as ever. "And that would simply not be an acceptable answer."

Uotani's grip tightened as she started practically dragging him away. "Come on, Carrots, this'll be over quicker the less you struggle."

He twitched in irritation. He'd wanted to spend time with Tohru before Yuki got home.

"I'm sure Tohru-kun can spare you for a few hours. You do live together after all, do you not?"

Was this girl actually a mind reader? He never could tell.

He slumped in defeat. He wasn't gonna win this, was he? And it's not like he could fight a girl, let alone two of them. He wasn’t a scumbag.

"Can you atleast tell me where we're going?"

"You'll find out when we get there."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"A department store," he said flatly.

"Yep!" Uotani popped the p. "We're taking you shopping, Kyon!"

"For what?"

"You and Tohru-kun have a date tomorrow, do you not?" Hanajima cocked her head.

"Yeah, why?" And then he recoiled. "Don't tell me you two are planning on coming again."

"Sorry to disappoint, but you’re on your own this time," Uotani said sarcastically. "There's only so much of the goo-goo eyes I can take."

He blushed. "Don't say it like that." But then he furrowed his brow. "And what does that have to do with why we're at a department store?"

"My, he really is quite dense, isn't he?" Hanajima said.

He twitched in annoyance which only increased as Uotani gave him a scornful look. "Seriously, Carrots? You need clothes to wear on a date."

"I have clothes at home."

"Those don't count!"

"Why don't they?"

“Because after what you wore to the zoo, we don’t trust your decisions.”

He bristled. “What was wrong with what I was wearing?! We were outside and it was comfortable!"

“You looked like you just rolled out of bed. No effort at all. You’re lucky Tohru’s nice.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, "She doesn't care what I wear.”

"You think so?" Hanajima asked him skeptically, giving him an unreadable look.

Tohru didn’t care...did she? She had worn a dress but she was always wearing stuff like that. Should he have put more effort in? Did she actually hate how he looked? Did she put her two friends up to this because she didn’t wanna tell him herself?

"Well," Uotani clapped his shoulder, interrupting his spiral, "Let's get started. I have a shift in 2 hours."

"Great," he said unenthusiastically, as the two women steered him towards the men's aisle.

He sat on the nearby bench and listened as they rustled through hangers. This brought back memories. Last time he'd come to a clothes store was when they were buying that swimsuit for Tohru. His face heated a bit at the memory. She really had been cute in it. Just wish I’d gotten to tell her that..

"Kyon, what size are you?" Uotani called, breaking him out of his daydream.

"I dunno. Large, maybe?"

A pause. "How do you not know your own size?"

"I don't buy clothes. Look, just take a guess and pick something. I don't care."

She stood in front of him, menacing. "What kind of attitude is that when we're kindly taking the time out of our day to help you?!"

"I never asked you to!" He yelled back, outraged.

"Don't tell me you're one of those guys who thinks they’re too good to go clothes shopping!”

"How awful," Hanajima said unhelpfully.

"It's got nothing to do with that!" Up until a couple months ago, he never expected to need any. "I just don't really buy things," he settled on saying instead. "It's a pain."

"Isn’t your family like super rich though?"

He tsked. "That's got nothing to do with me.."

"How intriguing." Hanajima put a finger to her chin. "The Sohma family remains a mystery."

They were both silent for a minute before Uotani punched her fist. "Well, it's decided then!"

"What's decided?" He asked warily, even though he knew he was gonna regret it.

"This shopping trip is on us!" And he was right.

"I'm not some charity case," he said scornfully, "and you should be saving your money for yourself."

"We're not doing this out of pity, you idiot, we're doing it because we're your friends."

He blinked. That was the first time they'd referred to him as a friend and he was...kinda touched.

"Well, thanks, but no thanks. Like I said, I have clothes at home and Tohru doesn't really worry about things like that."

"Perhaps not," Hanajima agreed, "but don't you think she would be happy knowing you wanted to look nice for her? It's only the bare minimum of what she deserves."

……………...

Goddammit.

Uotani slapped his back and he jumped. "Yeah, don't think of it as buying yourself stuff. Think of it as a gift for Tohru."

He did wanna look good for her. He wanted to give her everything he could. She deserved the world.

"Fine, you win."

Uotani grinned. "Oh this is gonna be fun!" And then she started dragging him away.

He released his arm from her grip. "Look, if we're gonna do this, then I get the final say-so. It would be stupid for you to spend money on something I hate."

Uotani blinked. "Huh. That's weirdly thoughtful of you."

“What do you mean 'weirdly'?”

"Alright, let's narrow down colors.” She completely changed the subject.

“Oi, don’t ignore me.”

“What's your favorite color?"

“I said don’t-” His annoyance was replaced with confusion. His favorite color? He’d never really thought about it… “Um...Orange…?"

She made an X with her hand. "Denied."

"Why?"

"Your hair is orange. It would clash."

He furrowed his brow. "But if they're both orange-"

"Hanajima, what do you think?" She asked the girl next to her, ignoring him again.

"Black," Hanajima said passively.

"Of course you would say that," he muttered.

"No wait, she's got a point." Uotani put her hands into a square, and peered through it. "Your hair is already bright so black would actually be a really good contrast." She set her hands down. "Do you like black, Kyon?"

He owned a few black things. "I...guess?"

"Okay, so black’s an option. We're getting somewhere. What other colors? How about blue?" Blue made him think of Yuki and he wrinkled his nose. He saw Uotani snort and then say, "Okay, no blue then. Shame. I think you'd look good in a navy. Or maybe a midnight."

She was being weirdly nice to him today and it made him uneasy. But this was for Tohru, right? Would Tohru like blue? She wore blue sometimes, so maybe she would.

"I guess…" he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, "a darker blue would be okay."

“That’s the spirit!” She slung an arm over his shoulders that he had to shrug off. Hanajima was already sifting through racks.

“What about this?” She held up what looked like a conservative turtleneck sweater.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you joking?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Uotani asked defensively. “It would make you look artsy.”

“I’m not ‘artsy’ and when have I ever worn anything like that?”

“Are you dumb? The point of this is to find things you wouldn’t wear normally. Because, y’know, you wanna actually look good for once”

They were really testing his patience. And he didn’t have a lot to begin with. “Are you dumb? It’s the middle of summer!” He fired back. “Plus, I hate collars. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that.”

“Shall we test that theory?” Hanajima asked, an evil look in her eye.

“Please don’t.”

Uotani looked like she just had a revelation. “Huh. So is that why you don’t wear a tie with your uniform? Because you hate collars?”

“I don’t really like anything around my neck.”

“Wow. And here I thought you were just going for the ‘cool delinquent’ look.”

“I’m not you.”

“Hah?!” She glared at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean? You wanna fight or somethin’?”

He wasn’t gonna rise to that bait. “I don’t fight girls and you’re just proving my point.”

“Arisa,” Hanajima called, “We’re running out of time.”

Uotani blinked. “Oh, right.” And then like nothing happened, she mumbled, “So no collars then. Got it.”

And then she picked up what looked like a shirt that could fit a child. “What about this?”

“Now you’re just screwing with me.”

“Aww, c’mon, it could be like a crop top. You’re like a black belt or whatever, right?” She made to jab his side and he dodged. “You gotta have some muscle. If you show off some ab, you might get lucky.”

His face heated up. “Oi, stop saying things like that in public! You really have no shame at all, do you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Y’know for someone who apparently never goes shopping, you’re a real pain in the ass to buy clothes for.”

“Good,” he responded sarcastically, “Can I leave then?”

She grabbed his sleeve to keep him in place. “Yeah, no. But nice try though.”

“Nothing here is suitable,” Hanajima said matter of factly. “We should go to a different section. Perhaps the one over there?” And she pointed towards the right corner, where he saw an assortment of mannequins with crisp button-downs on display.

Uotani nodded. “Good call!” And then she tugged on his sleeve like he was an unruly child. “C’mon, Kyon, let’s go.”

He followed after in defeat. He could be pretending to do his homework with his girlfriend right now..

Uotani grabbed what looked like a black button down and held it up against him. “This could be nice.”

“I have a black shirt like that at home,” he said, hoping maybe that could get him out of this.

She curled her lip in disgust. “This isn’t black, Kyon, this is midnight blue.”

He furrowed his brow. “What the hell’s the difference? It looks black to me.”

“Ugh, you really don’t know anything about clothes, do you?��

“I told you I didn’t!”

“Disgraceful,” Hanajima said disdainfully from behind. “How shameless of you to get this color confused for black.”

Why is she acting like I insulted her, personally?

“I do feel insulted,” she responded.

He jolted. “Quit doing that!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After getting a bundle of clothes shoved in his arms and essentially pushed into a dressing room with a “Kyon, try this on”, he’s just been sitting in this stall for the past 10 or so minutes. It wasn’t ideal, but atleast it was peaceful. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d really bought clothes for himself like this. He would normally just pick it from the rack and leave.

He checked himself out in the mirror. It was...not bad, actually, but he couldn‘t admit that or he would never hear the end of it. That button down from earlier that they swore was blue (it looked black to him), a light gray V-neck and some tan pants (what’d they call it? Corduroy?) that were a bit tighter than he was used to, but not unbearable.

“Oi!” He heard Uotani call from outside obnoxiously. “Are you dead in there?”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. He could just ignore her, but she would probably barge in here and drag him out and he wanted to keep whatever tiny bit of dignity he had left.

He slumped through the curtains. They both just stared at him, without saying anything, and it made him wanna crawl out of his skin. Uotani circled around him like he was a trophy on display and then started rolling up the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows.

She circled around him again, narrowing her eyes and then whistled. “Wow. We should’ve done this a long time ago. Hanajima, what do you think?”

“Indeed. I can almost see the appeal.”

He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Well, glad I got your approval I guess-” and then his brain caught up. “Wait.” He glared at Hanajima. “What do you mean ‘almost’?”

She gave him a blank stare. “Which part was confusing?”

“What do you care anyway?” Uotani chimed in before he could retort, “It’s not like you’re dating us.”

“Thank God for that,” he muttered.

Uotani gave him a flat look, but thankfully, didn’t hit him. “Well, that outfit’s a winner. Let’s go find some more.”

What. “More?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well, yeah, you can’t live with only one outfit, Kyon.”

He stood in front of her, blocking the way. “No way, I only agreed to the one. And besides, didn’t you say you had a shift? We’ve already been here for over an hour.”

She shrugged, easily walking by him. “True, but now that we’ve narrowed down what you’d actually wear, it should be easy enough to find things that are similar.”

He grimaced. “Look, I don’t need you to-”

“Will you stop fretting?” She cut him off. “Geez, you’re almost as bad as Tohru. Just let us do something nice for you.”

He didn’t wanna have to owe any favors to these people.

“We don’t have any ulterior motives if that’s what you’re wondering,” Hanajima said, in response to his thoughts.

“Seriously, stop doing that,” he groaned, “It’s creepy as hell.”

This was a losing battle. He sighed and just followed them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He heard whispering behind him and out of the corner of his eye, saw a group of girls all whispering and giggling to each other.

“C’mon, go talk to him,” he heard one whisper.

“No, I can’t,” he heard another one, “What if one of those girls is his girlfriend?”

He glowered at that. Why did people just assume things like that? It pissed him off.

“Oi,” he heard Uotani next to him, “Those hot girls over there are checking you out.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, they’ve been there for like 5 minutes. So?” Since when has he ever cared about that?

She gave him a surprised look. Did she think he hadn’t noticed?

“Huh. You really don’t have eyes for anyone except Tohru, do you?” He thought that was obvious. “Hmm, well, that’s good. Atleast we don’t have to worry about you cheating.”

He bristled. “You have some nerve! I would never do that.”

“Correct,” Hanajima agreed, and then she got a sinister look. “Because if you did, terrible things might happen to you.”

He blanched. “I get it. Please stay away from me.”

He thought they would go their separate ways after that, but they insisted on walking him home.

“Why are you coming?”

“Hmm? What’s that tone?” Uotani started grabbing his face, squeezing it. “We just wanna make sure no one tries to kidnap that pretty face.”

He roughly pushed her arm away. “Get off me! And I don’t need two girls to protect me!”

“Then how about just allowing us to accompany you so that we might say hi to Tohru-kun?” Hanajima asked.

“I-” He sighed, “Whatever, do what you want I guess.”

It was when they came inside, he saw Tohru sitting at the table, doing what looked like homework.

“Oh! Kyo-kun!” She got up to grab his shirt around his waist. “Kunimitsu-san said you left a while ago so I was starting to get worried.” And then she seemed to notice the two other people behind him. “Uo-chan? Hana-chan? What’s going on?”

“Someone was trying to kidnap Kyon so we rescued him.”

Tohru paled. “Heh? Kidnap?”

“Don’t lie to her, you’re gonna freak her out.” And then he flatly said, “They hijacked me.”

“Who’s lying now?” Uotani made to chop him in the head, but he dodged. “We took your boyfriend on a little shopping trip.” And then she winked which made him reassess his ‘no hitting girls’ policy. “You’re welcome.”

Tohru just furrowed her brow in confusion which was really fucking adorable and he had to resist every urge in his body to not kiss her. Not in front of those two. “Um...shopping trip for what?”

“Well, our job is done!” She patted him on the back. Hard . “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Hanajima actually smiled. “Have fun tomorrow, Tohru-kun.”

Tohru lit up, confusion over the shopping trip forgotten. “Oh, thank you!”

And just as suddenly as they had appeared in front of him earlier, they were gone, and he slumped. Those two were exhausting.

“Um, Kyo-kun?” He heard and saw that she looked a bit worried. “Did you guys...get along okay?”

Well, he made it back alive and intact so… “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh, good. What did you talk about?”

He shrugged. “Nothing much.” And then seeing his opportunity, he smirked. “They told me how you spilled on what a terrible boyfriend I am.”

“Heh?!” Her face went red as a firetruck and she started babbling, “I didn’t-I wouldn’t- um- please believe me I-”

She is so cute. He bent down to kiss her nose. “Calm down, I was kidding.”

She closed her mouth, but her face was still beet red. “You’re always teasing me,” she pouted.

“That’s because it’s easy,” he patted her head, “And you like it, don’t you?”

She averted her eyes out of embarrassment, which only made his own grin wider. She cleared her throat. “That’s a big shopping bag.”

“Hmm?” And then looked down at the bag he was still holding, full of a few different outfits that those two women had strongarmed him into. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“What’s in it?”

His first urge was to just show her since she asked, but something held him back. He had gone on that nightmare, allowed Uotani and Hanajima to treat him like their own personal toy...he wasn’t gonna let that go to waste. He was gonna milk it for all it was worth.

“Can’t tell you,” he said to her look of curiosity. “It’s a surprise.”

“Surprise, huh?” she mumbled to herself, and he braced himself when he saw the gleam in her eyes.

“Ha!” she shouted, as she swiped for the bag only to be met with air as he switched it to the other hand. Her look of confusion was precious.

He chuckled, “You didn’t actually think you were being sneaky, did you?”

She huffed in defeat and he would always cherish seeing this part of her. The childish part. “Will I get to see one day?”

“Yep. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she perked up. “Sounds exciting.” Her eyes widened as she looked at something behind him. “Oh my gosh, it’s 6 already? I gotta start dinner.”

“Did you want help?” he offered. Any time spent with her was worth it.

She grinned. “Nope! I think you would just be more of a distraction actually. I can handle it.”

He froze, feeling warm all of a sudden. A...distraction? Was she...hitting on him?

“Oi, you can’t just say things like that so casually.” It’s not good for my heart.

She cocked her head innocently. A little too innocently. “Huh? What do you mean?”

She was definitely baiting him...and he so badly wanted to go for it, but Shigure was probably in his room listening like the creep he was and Rat Boy would be home any second if he wasn’t already.

“Nevermind,” he sighed out, “I’m gonna go upstairs.”

“Oh, okay.” And then she pecked his cheek. “I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

He grunted in acknowledgement, his face still burning.

In the two years he’s known her, he would’ve never pegged her as such a flirt.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t into it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He assessed himself in the mirror critically. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he wasn’t bad-looking, but was this really the kind of look Tohru would be into? What if he went through that shopping trip of Hell just for her to tell him it never mattered?

A light knock on the door. “Kyo-kun, I’m heading downstairs,” came her sweet, muffled voice.

He sighed. Why was he acting like a scared little kid anyway? It wasn’t like this was their first date. And they’d already agreed to spend their lives together. He had nothing to worry about, not with her, even though there was a tiny part that kept reminding him he didn’t deserve her in the first place.

He opened the door to find the hallway blissfully empty. Shigure was probably at the main estate doing god knows what (and he really didn’t wanna know) and Yuki was at his girlfriend's place...or something. It really wasn’t his job to keep track of them.

He saw her standing by the front door and felt his breath leave him. She was wearing a dress he’d never seen before (was it new?); it was a light pink and modest, but her shoulders were completely exposed, the usual sleeves resting over her upper arms. His eyes wandered below the shoulders, noting how it curved around her chest and conformed to her waist, ending just above her knees, leaving most of her smooth, fair skin on display. Damn, she’s so-

“Kyo-kun, are you alright?”

“That dress…” was all he managed to say. “Where’d you get it?”

“Oh! Um- Uo-chan and Hana-chan got it for me as a birthday present.” Those two bought her this? Tohru looked away shyly. “Do you like it? I thought it might be too much but they were insistent and-”

He surged forward to kiss her to cut her off. He broke away quickly before it could get heated, and stroked her lips with his thumb. “You’re really beautiful.”

Her face went so red he thought she would combust and paired with that dress, it was so, so endearing and he was half-tempted to just say ‘fuck the date’ and keep her here while they were alone.

She pushed his face away gently, trying to hide her own. “D-Don’t look at me like that while being so nice. You’ll make me not want to leave.”

Oh really?

“Hmm?” he teased, “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” she lied. But then she recovered, though her cheeks were still pink. “You look really handsome in this, Kyo-kun. Is this what you were doing with Uo-chan and Hana-chan?”

“Something like that.” And then he smirked. “What, are you saying I’m not handsome normally?”

“What? No, of course not! You always are! What I meant was-”

He set his fist on her hair gently. “It’s fine, dummy, I’m just teasing.” Hearing her confirm it with no hesitation did make something warm spark in his chest though.

She didn’t respond and when he looked down, he saw her eyes roving up his body. Very slowly. And that warm feeling turned into something hot.

“I suppose I’ll have to thank Uo-chan and Hana-chan later, won’t I?” she said, her voice low and breathy.

“I guess we both do.” He grabbed her hand, kissing the tips of her fingers lightly, watching as her dark eyes stayed fixated. “You ready to go?”

“Yes,” she whispered and as he opened the door for her, allowing her to step in front of him, he was starting to think he owed those two women a favor after all.

Maybe he could give them flowers or something..

#kyoru #fruits basket #kyo sohma #arisa uotani #saki hanajima #tohru honda

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solesurvivorpaigeargot · 3 years

Text

HOLY HELLO Sketchy friends, followers, and fans! It's that time again, time for...

SHIPPY SATURDAY!

The heck is happening here? Here's an FAQ~ Wanna support the event? Here's my Ko-fi!

That's right, it's FINALLY the last Saturday of the month... and I've decided it's high time our Quotable prompt evolved into a Dialog prompt! This is gonna work a lot like previous Quote prompts, but with an extra twist, so please make sure you read the guidelines for a valid request before sending in!

ONWARDS!

To make a VALID Shippy Saturday request, please send me the following in an ASK to my ASKBOX:

The COUPLE you'd like me to sketch up ---- OC? Heck yes! Canon? Hell yeah! All characters welcome, so long as they're from Fallout ---- OC x OC? Cool! Canon x Canon? SWEET! OC x Canon? DAMN RIGHT.

The NUMBER of the dialog snippet you'd like me to art them saying ---- Got more than one favorite? You may list up to THREE in your ask, in order of preference, to help the artist avoid repeats <3 ---- Still can't pick? Send in 'Dealer's Choice!' and the artist will pick one for you.... oooor possibly make up some fresh dialog on the spot ;3

What KIND OF RELATIONSHIP your couple has with each other ---- Romantic? Platonic? Professional? Familial? Rivals? Neighbors? Despite it's name, Shippy Saturday is about all kinds of human connections, not just the romantic ones! ---- Is your couple part of a larger OT3 or poly group? Tell me who else is part of the relationship; they probably won't get arted, but they might add their two cents to the scene from off-frame XD

IF YOU'RE SENDING IN AN OC!! ---- Send your request ask FIRST, without reference information ---- THEN send your OC's reference information to me via my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have any reference pictures, but you can type of a written description? Great! I love working from written descriptions! :D [ No, really, I do. Give them to me :D ]

After that, you can leave all the rest to me! :D [ I.e Please do not request poses or specific actions ]

Hokay? HOKAY! With all of that out of the way, let's get onto the dialog snippets! These are taken from various things I enjoy, as well as some of my own work. These quotes have been modified to gender neutral pronouns, to remove most proper nouns, and for brevity.

[ Some of these quotes have multiple speakers! That will be shown like this! "Speaker A" -- "Speaker B" ]

"Yeah, well, I'm a victim of circumstance" -- "... I thought you called it your pecker."

"Here, you look cold."

"You are so lucky I love you." -- "Damn right."

"You know the routine." -- "Yeah! WE do all the work, YOU get all the credit!"

"I want you with me, but... I'm scared." -- "Trust me. Trust me to take care of myself." -- "I trust you, it's the rest of the world I'm terrified of!"

"No breakfast?" -- "I did it yesterday-- bologna and beans, it's your turn." -- "No... It was eggs. I did eggs... over easy." -- "The hell you did! Bologna and beans, it's your turn!"

"I like the kind of person who can handle themselves... think on their feet."

"So you were ahead of me." -- "I don't know about ahead, but I've been behind you ever since you fried those mannequins."

"Don't make me say it out loud..." -- "... I can say it first, if that'll help."

"Nooooooope... five more minutes." -- "We were together all night." -- "Didn't count... I was sleepin'."

"Well, this is very serious" -- "IT IS!" -- "You, you destroyed a door." -- "Colonel, we're talking about a test on an armored vehicle, that will carry people into combat." -- "Right, but this door is property of--" -- "The shell barely penetrated the door." -- "okay, but now it's all bent out of shape. How are you gonna get it back on its hinges?" -- "I'LL BUY THE ARMY A NEW GODDAMN DOOR!"

"Sorry, I thought... I thought you were trying to buy something I'm not selling."

"I'm busy." -- "Too busy to look up?"

"You can't kill people just because you don't agree with them." -- "You see, that was the ONE point me and the doctors could never agree upon."

"Would you ever consider having a drink with an enlisted solider?" -- "Depends... does the enlisted soldier think I need one?" -- "What are they gonna do? Kick you out?"

"Thanks" -- "No problem, anytime."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up-- one day it's gonna happen to you. Someday someone is gonna ask you, who is it? And a face is gonna jump to the front of your mind, and it's gonna completely sandbag you... I can't wait to watch!"

[to a peacefully sleeping person ] -- "Good moring, Mx. ___, this is your wake-up call. Please move your ass."

"I say we run for it" -- "Running isn't a plan, runnin's what you do when a plan fails!"

"... Normal Illinois, is that on the map?" -- "Yes, Sergeant, it is." -- "... is it normal in Normal?" -- "... Uneventful, I think, is the word."

"Now-- how many brahmin does it take to make a stampede? Is it like... three or more? Is there a minimum speed?" -- "Wish a stampede up your ass."

"I don't mind being a secret of yours."

[Right after THE BIG FUCKING KISS] ".... let's not make it a year before the next one, okay?"

"If we were serious about money, we'd quit being hired hands--" -- "Handymen! We are han-dee-men." -- "Oh whatever! We'd quit this and go find some real money."

"Please... don't go where I can't follow."

"Alone is fine! I can do alone, it's worrying after them that's got me all wound up!" -- "Have you considered that's because alone is NOT FINE and you don't wanna do it anymore?" -- "---!!"

"This is not the first time you've been here." -- "We've been down this road before, that is correct." -- "Several times, in fact." -- "I hadn't been keeping count."

"And you must be ___, I've heard all about you." -- "I deny everything."

"First time I saw you? I thought to myself, that's the kind of person BRICK WALLS jump outta the way of." -- "Figured you'd be safer behind me rather than in front of me?" -- "Damn right."

"Just keep looking at that beautiful sky; that's the sky that'll be over our roof when we're done." -- "What if we don't finish the roof? Then we can look at the sky all the time."

"Yeah, well... maybe a friend is what I need right now."

"Next thing you know the Feds will be at our door; Sorry, time to move out, Eminent Domain." -- "Down honey, down."

"Even a heat-seeking missile can miss a target." -- "... you taped so many hot-plates to the test target you could fry an egg at 20 feet, and it STILL missed by a mile."

"My dear, my darling, love of my life...." -- "What do you want?"

"What I mean to say is... you make here a better place to be. For me. Easier. Does that make sense?"

"Calm down, you make it sound like a war." -- "What do you people have against being prepared?!"

"This is not just a report, it's a deadly weapon." -- "Sir, an M-16 is a deadly weapon. A report is just a pile of paper, unless you plan to inflict a lot of extremely vicious paper cuts."

"Stupid son of a bitch, knocked himself out cold..." -- "Cold my ass, he's dead."

"Y'know, in baseball, a guy who hits .400 is consider pretty damn great." -- "In baseball the losing team isn't killed by their opponents."

"Hey... I love you. Did I tell you that today?"

This post is going online at 8 PM, June 24th, 2021, US Pacific time. The askbox will open for requests until 6 PM, June 25th, 2021, US Pacific Time. Get yours in now!

Arting will begin at 9 AM tomorrow morning, see you then! :D

-Loor

#Sketchy Saturday #Sketchy Saturday Prompt #Shippy Saturday #Shippy Saturday Prompt #Dialog Prompt

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the-delta-42 · 4 years

Text

Off Sick

Marinette picked her bag up as she descended the stairs from her room, she was up early, she had her mask in her pocket and all her homework was done. Nothing could ruin her day.

Marinette halted at the sight of her parents sitting in the living room.

“Everything alright?” Asked Marinette, dread settling in her stomach.

“One of our customers tested positive.” Said her mother, making Marinette groan.

“Really?” Exclaimed Marinette, looking at the ceiling, “On the one day where everything seems to be going alright for me?!”

“Marinette,” Admonished her mother, “They’re in hospital in a critical condition.”

Marinette winced, “Ssssorry?”

Outside, Lila stood staring at the Bakery, reading the notice that the employees and inhabitants of the Bakery were self-isolating. Maybe one of them tested positive. Lila spun on her heel, already knowing that she’d have to tell her classmates. When she entered the class, she immediately spotted Nino and Alya looking put out, while Adrien was frantically applying hand sanitiser and Max and Sabrina readjusting their glasses to prevent them from fogging up. Lila snuck another glance at Nino and Alya, only just noticing how Alya’s glasses were half-way down her face and Nino’s balanced on that little area where his mask didn’t fog them up without them sliding downwards.

“The Bakery is self-isolating.” Said Lila, making everyone look at her, “It’s on their front door.”

“Ha! Maribrat’s got it!” Laughed Chloe, recoiling when she found herself on the receiving end of more than a few glares.

“Chloe, who raised you?” Asked Alix, her mask covering her slack jaw.

“Only the best-”

“So, you’re admitting your parents can’t stand you.” Kim cut Chloe off, making the blonde go silent.

“Just because the Bakery’s self-isolating doesn’t mean that anyone in Marinette’s family has the virus.” Said Adrien, pulling a pair of rubber gloves on.

Everyone looked at Adrien’s appearance.

“The mask and hand sanitiser, I could understand,” Said Nathaniel, his mask bobbing as he spoke, “but, seriously, what’s with the gloves and apron?”

“My father said that if I didn’t wear them, I’d get the virus and die!” Said Adrien, getting a blink from his classmates.

“You know, you should probably see about getting some help.” Said Nathaniel, after a moment.

“Marinette’s not responding to my texts.” Said Alya, frantically looking up and tossing her glasses into the air, “Fuck!”

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Said Ms. Bustier, entering the classroom, “If everyone could get their books out while I set up the remote learning programs.”

Marinette groaned as an Akuma stomped through the city, putting a red and black spotted face mask on and calling her transformation.

Ladybug landed in a crouch, hearing Chat land behind her.

“Ladybug!” Gasped Chat, his black and green paw print mask shifting as he grinned.

“We got another breacher.” Said Ladybug, pulling her yoyo off her hip.

“Did he just blame all this on Asia?” Asked Chat, cocking his head.

“Yeah, it’s actually a very strong sentiment,” Said Ladybug, sighing, “have you seen attacks on Asian people in the states, I heard one guy was left brain dead.”

“Animals.” Scowled Chat, “You can’t blame any one person for this mess. Oh, do you know about the blood plague incident?”

Ladybug dodged a swing from the Akuma, “You mean the thing in World of Warcraft that was a game destroying bug?”

“Yeah, apparently it was used as an example of how to deal with a pandemic.” Said Chat, using his baton to knock the Akuma’s feet from under them, “There was a comment on the video I saw that said something like ‘A few gamers had a better handle of a pandemic than the entirety of the world’s governments’, or something along those lines.”

“Preach.” Said Ladybug, hooking her yoyo around the akumatized object, a bag, and yanked it towards her. Chat clawed the bag, releasing the butterfly. Ladybug quickly caught a purified it, before looking at the victim.

It was a boy their age, he seemed to be following all the guidelines, until he groaned, “Is it over yet?”

“Nope, still in a pandemic.” Said Ladybug, getting a groan from the victim.

“He said he’d make it all go away.” Said the boy, before slowly getting to his feet.

“Everything Hawkmoth says is a lie.” Said Chat Noir, adjusting his staff so it was two metres long, “Milady, random person.”

Chat left the scene, with Ladybug following suit, leaving the victim to look around himself, “Hey, I actually made it to school.”

Marinette scowled at her ceiling, two weeks was a long time, especially when the Kwami of creation was zipping around because Marinette didn’t have any cookies and had given her red bull instead. Tikki had knocked over two lamps, a mannequin and Marinette’s notice board off her wall. She was also talking at a mile-a-minute, leaving Marinette at a loss for what the sprite was saying.

There was a ping on Marinette’s phone, most likely Alya telling her she’s dropped off the homework. Marinette hadn’t responded to any of the texts, she needed to read them and get back to Alya. Marinette decided to close her eyes for a minute.

Marinette woke up to her mother waking her up for school. Internally swearing, Marinette rushed around, collecting her homework, mask and bag, before running out the door. Class had already started when Marinette burst in. Ms. Bustier just looked at her and sighed. Marinette turned to apologise to her classmates, when they all started screaming.

“It’s a ghost!” Screamed Kim, trying to jump out the window.

“Wha- I’m not a ghost!” Said Marinette, before looking around, “Wait, did you guy seriously think I was dead?!”

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desthesleepdeprivedwriter · 3 years

Text

A Winter's Ball

Day 1 of the Fundywastaken week

Hosted by @fundyfiles

Fundy didn’t really like balls.

They always demanded so much energy. How to behave correctly, how to dress, how to look, how much time you have to be there, how to dance, how to eat, and the list goes on and on.

So, when his father told him that they would have a Winter’s Ball hosted at their palace, the only thing Fundy was happy about was that he wouldn’t have the trouble to behave during the trip. And he could steal food from the kitchens without big troubles. Definitely the best outcome.

What didn’t he like about the situation? The ball was only to welcome some far kingdom stupid king and his court. Which means he would have to be placed as some dumb mannequin right beside the rest of the family AND be forced to oblige his younger uncle to behave. Great. So. Fucking. Great.

Fundy did his best to pretend to not be bothered while testing his clothes, but his ears pressed against his head and tail wrapped around his leg really didn’t help his case. His father knew him way too well, so he just sighed and approached his only and annoyed son.

“C’mon, Fundy. Don’t be like that.” Wilbur tried, smiling a little. Fundy just rolled his eyes, now looking up. “Like what? You know I hate balls.” “I know, but you’re a prince! Part of the-” “Part of the great Antarctic Empire. Ok, I know that. It doesn’t mean I have to like this bureaucratic bullshit.”

Wilbur shaked his head, usually the talk wasn’t this bad. “Fundy, what’s wrong this time?”

“....It’s the prince.”

“The prince? You only met him once, Fundy!”

“He was a snobby asshole!”

“He was ten!”

“Imagine now, with 21!” Fundy huffed again, ears perking up and a slight growl in his voice, only getting a weak slap due to his behavior.

“Deal with it, Fundy. You will be the host of the ball, and you supposedly have some royal manners.”

"Fine. But, if he acts like a bitch, I'll bite his face off."

Wilbur ended up smiling with that, huffing his son's orange hair. "You sound just like your mother. She also hated this royal stuff."

"Wasn't she also the one who stole your gold when you were 18?" Fundy poked, knowing that story like the back of his hand.

"My gold and my heart." Wilbur half sang, he had a song written with that exact lyrics.

Fundy pushed his dad away, ending the talk by saying he would do his best, and went back to testing his clothes.

The ball came, and Fundy wished he had run away the day before it.

There he stayed, right beside Tommy and his royal hyperactivity, both of them not wanting to be there, pretending to be some good behaved family.

The northerner king and her court entered the large ball venue, people complimenting them as they passed by. The king was a sheep hybrid, and the people said she used to be king of the pirates before being declared king. Her name was Puffy, and her kids were named Foolish, Dream and Michelle, and, as far as Fundy knew, all adopted.

That's why Fundy didn't even bother to look at them, focusing on his friend Niki talking with Eret, or Tubbo and Jack Manifold quietly snatching food from the table.

Fundy waited for the moment his grandpa, Emperor Philza, went to compliment King Puffy and he quietly left his place, followed by Tommy. Which one went in a different direction, and Fundy was the lucky one to be stopped by Technoblade.

"Where are you going?" He asked, voice low.

"I was bored, and I have a sweet!"

Fundy took out a chocolate treat wrapped in plastic from his pocket, putting it on Technoblade's hand and quickly moving away before he could stop him. "Love ya, Uncle Techno!"

Fundy walked fast, zigzagging around the corridors and halls, finally ending up on a cool and quiet balcony. The stars were shining in the night sky and the snow started to slowly fall. It was pretty, and calm.

Well, at least for a while.

Someone also walked in, and they both stared at each other in surprise. The other man was blond and had green piercing eyes. The bottom half of his face was covered by a white scarf, probably due to the cold.

"Uh… how did you end up here?" Fundy asked, since he was in one of the furthest points from the ballroom.

"I got lost, this place is huge." The boy said, voice muffled by the scarf. He placed himself right besides Fundy, side-eyeing the fox. "Wait, aren't you one of the princes? I saw you there."

"Yeah…" Fundy said, kinda annoyed. "Prince Fundy, not at your service."

This made the boy laugh, and Fundy noticed the reptilian-like pupils dilated a little. This guy was a reptile hybrid, no doubt why he was suffering with the temperature, it must be hard to be cold-blooded.

“Damn, are you always this harsh with people?”

Fundy actually held himself back this time, noticing that he was kinda aggressive with the poor guy. “Sorry, I was just stressed. Balls aren’t my thing.”

“What, you can’t dance?” The guy mocked, leaning towards Fundy.

“I am actually a great dancer, smartass. But there’s this other court here and I’ll have to probably talk with this other prince… He is an idiot.”

“What?” The guy almost looked offended. “Why?”

“He is a snob. I’ve met him before, I was a kid, but I can feel when the vibe is wrong.”

“And….” The guy tried to make his way, nervously hitting the balcony. “Can’t you give him another chance?”

“For that, I’d have to go down to the ballroom, and act like a prince. Won’t do that, I hate to behave.”

“I can see that, you don’t act all prince-y like.”

Fundy scuffed, laughing a little. “If you actually knew what it is like to be part of this family, you’d know it's not that glamorous.” The guy sympathetically nodded, letting Fundy talk. “Dad is so annoying, and he wants me to be the perfect prince. Tommy always get away with his antics, while I just get fucked.”

“Wow, dirty mouth.”

“Wow, boring.”

They stared at each other, a spark of challenge between two boys that apparently never met before.

“Me? Boring?” Fundy nodded, taking out another sweet from his pocket and eating without ceremony. “I can prove I’m not.”

Fundy raised an eyebrow, curiosity being his fatal flaw. “I’ll bite it, how?”

The other man fixed his clothes and stole the rest of the threat Fundy left on the balcony taking out the scarff just to eat the chocolate.. “Dance with me, I can prove balls aren’t that bad.”

For once, Fundy hesitated.

It was a guy he never met before, but now he was staring at mischievous and challenging green eyes and a smirk that made him feel something. His breath condensed in the cold air almost as smoke. A dragon hybrid, where he met a dragon before?

“C’mon, Fundy… The fox doesn’t bite?” And there it was, the last push. Fundy should think before going into this stuff.

But it was too late to think, Fundy taking the hand offered by the mysterious guy and feeling only the heat of a challenge.

“Bet accepted.”

And now, Fundy was in the middle of the dance.

The guy pulled Fundy close, taking the lead of the dance, and they spinned around the floor, in the middle of other people. Fundy could see Niki surprisingly staring at him, Tommy saying something behind his back, and his uncle Techno eating a threat like the one Fundy bribed him with. But his focus was in his moves, eager to prove that he was a great dancer.

He stole the control of the dance in the middle of a spin, and, for a moment, he saw the dragon slightly blushing, but he kept dancing.

The control shifted, and shifted, and they lost count. Both were in charge of the dance. It was funny, and Fundy was actually enjoying himself for once. Songs passed one after the other, and they kept enjoying themselves.

Fundy only stopped after seeing his grandfather approaching, right besides the northerner king. Fundy and the guy stopped dancing, making a small reverence to the two monarchs.

“Oh, I’m glad to see you two are getting along!” King Puffy said, a relieved smile on her face just to match the surprise on Philza’s. “I was worried that I’d have to, hm, calm down some conflict.”

Fundy was confused, or at least he wanted to be, because the reveal of what was going on already happened in his brain,and he didn’t want to acknowledge that.

“Don’t worry, dad, me and Prince Fundy got along just fine.” The guy said, and Fundy ignored the fact he knew his name. No. It couldn’t be him.

“Great, Dream. I’m going to need you to come with me. Can you?” She asked, in a really sweet tone.

“Okay, let me just end this talk with Fundy.”

Both the Antarctic Emperor and the northerner King nodded and walked away, Philza still looking back to Fundy.

“Well, I have to go.”

Prince Dream held Fundy’s hand, planting a kiss on the back of it. “I hope I didn’t bore you”. The dragon hybrid smirked one last time to Fundy and left, disappearing between the crowd.

Behind, only a flustered prince with a fast beating heart, convinced of how much of a prick that stupidly beautiful northerner prince was.

#fundy #dreamwastaken #fundywastaken #shhh at least i posted it #fwtweek2021 #day 1

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