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cafeacademia · 3 years

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His Favourite Gal | Part 1

Mob!Bucky x Shy!Reader

Summary: You begin working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little do you realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with its quirks and you’re slowly pulled into the mobster life.

Warnings: Fluff, some mentions of drunk people, mentions of crimes (though nothing happens, it’s just mentioned).

Word count: Approx 3700

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A/N: Hi loves!! This is a remaster of my own original fan fiction that I’ve decided to take from my old blog and (hopefully) improve. I’ve been slowly remastering fics that I am particularly attached to and I worked quite a lot to get this one overhauled and rewritten!! There’s actually very little of the original writing left, it was interesting to see how different my style is now compared to three years ago! This was also my first ever series I’d ever written on my old blog, so aside from the fact that I love the story, it’s special to me in that regard. Enjoy! 💕

If you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so using my taglist form HERE

It was raining when you finally finished your shift three hours later than when you were supposed to be off for the night. It was tiring working for the dingy old bar, it looked just as sad on the outside as it did on the inside, the old brick discoloured, old panelling slowly peeling off the sides of the building. It was a wreck and so was your boss too. He couldn’t have cared less if you worked yourself down to the bone, as long as he had staff doing a job, he didn’t care.

“I’m expecting you tomorrow, we’re opening early.” He had told you on your way out and it took everything in your willpower not to groan and roll your eyes and tell him so eloquently to fuck off. It was almost a relief when you heard the heavy metal door slam behind you as you stepped out of the back entrance. The air was just as bad. It was thick with smog and cigarette smoke and something pungent, an overflowing bin or perhaps an unfortunate street animal, you thought.

You were glad when it began to rain harder. At least it seemed to make most of the drunkards along the main strip try to find shelter instead of bothering you on your walk home.

Pulling your jacket hood up, you stepped down from the doorway and made your way out of the alleyway and onto the back street. It was never good to walk home alone, especially at night and especially in the part of New York you lived and worked in. It was on the edge of mobster territory and while Bucky Barnes, the King of New York owned it, it didn’t mean it was safe at all. It was quite the opposite, the district was prone to all levels of crime, from pickpocketing all the way up to armed robberies, arson and shootings.

But, you realised as you walked up the street, spotting a group of drunk men up ahead, drink men with rifles too, that never ended well, that perhaps mobster territory might not be a bad idea, especially when there were people working for Barnes along the entire street and they were known to keep the peace.

You heard the casino before you saw it, but as you rounded the corner you saw the lights, the late night rain distorting some of the huge party lights that lit up the sky above the building. Stark’s was not the most prestigious club in town, but it was the most respected and most feared. And funnily enough, for a place called Stark’s, the billionaire did not own his own named club. As far as you remembered, you’d seen it in the papers a few years ago that Barnes had won it off Stark in a game of poker. You’d never know if that was really true, but it definitely seemed plausible.

As you passed the casino, you glanced over towards the dark tinted windows, watching as people came and went, mostly men in suits. But you noticed a sign from across the road that was taped onto one of the windows, huge bold letters making you stop in your tracks for a moment.

Waiting staff needed. And you stared at it for a moment, contemplating. You… A bar waitress, surely it was not wise for you to sign up to work in mobster territory. That would definitely land you in more dangerous places than you were already in.

But the longer you stood there and thought about it, you began to wonder if it was actually a good idea. You could at least try, what did you have to lose? And before you could even come to a full decision, it was as it was made for you, because a group of rowdy men walked towards you and you immediately took the decision to cross the road, putting you right in front of the casino.

How bad could it be? The worst that could happen was that you just had to return back around the corner to your miserable little bar job. So, with a sigh, you grabbed the flyer and walked towards the entrance.

The bouncer was huge and intimidating. Of course, you had expected as much with the club having the notoriety that it did. It wasn’t long before you were allowed to enter, the bouncer telling you, “speak to Natasha at the bar”, and as you headed through into the casino, you assumed the absolutely stunning woman behind the bar right ahead of you was Natasha.

The club was bustling with people, though it was not as stuffy and loud on the inside as you had expected it to be. There was a clear divide between people dining and drinking at tables around the bar and the casino side of the club which appeared to be behind a velvet rope and deep burgundy red curtains at either side of the bar. It was far more high end than you had expected, seeing as the outside of Stark’s resembled a kind of fancy nightclub, but you supposed the King of New York did happen to own it.

“Are you here about the job?” The woman at the bar asked as you approached her. You wondered if it was your very casual clothing in such a formal setting that gave you away or the flyer in your hand. Either way, you suddenly felt very intimidated and very underprepared. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. You were a girl dressed in the dregs of your wardrobe while trying to get a job in the most respected club in the entire city. Not likely.

“I saw the advertisement outside, I hope that’s alright.” You said as you lifted the flyer in your hand and she held out her hand to take it from you. “Are you sure? We haven’t had many applicants because of certain activities.” She told you, but you knew what she meant, it was obvious. This part of town, even outside of mobster territory was swimming in crime. “I’ve got nothing to lose.” You replied. And it was true, you did have nothing to lose. No family, no responsibilities outside of your current job, which this would replace, no children, no pets, no side hustles. Nothing. And that probably made you a good candidate.

The woman smiled at you, her lips curving up into a smirk as she took a moment to look you over before she extended her hand across the counter. “Natasha.” She introduced herself, smiling as you shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” You mirrored her smile and gave her your name before she let go of you. “Let me just get someone on the bar and we’ll talk.” She told you.

And moments later, you were following Natasha through the casino, passing by all of the business men, mafia family members and rich men and women who were chancing it at gambling games. Suffice to say, you felt even more out of place than you had done just moments beforehand.

“Where do you work right now?” Natasha asked as she let you pass her into an office near the back of the building. “I work in an old bar just around the corner called The Rabid Dog.” It was not a pleasant name, it always made you cringe whenever you had to tell people where you worked and you didn’t fail to notice the way that Natasha seemed amused by the name of the bar too.

“So you’ve done bar work? What about waitressing?” She asked as she gestured for you to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Natasha didn’t sit behind the desk, instead she just dropped down into the chair next to yours and rested one leg over the other as if she was having a casual conversation with a friend. “My bar serves food, so I do it on a regular basis and I also used to work in a restaurant a few years ago.” You explained, but before either of you could say anything else, the door swung open and you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Who’s this?” Bucky Barnes, the King of New York himself asked as he walked through the doorway. What had you walked into? You knew he owned the club, but you’d never expected to actually meet Barnes. “This is our new waitress.” Natasha said proudly as she stood. You knew better than to interrupt, but you gathered that someone must have noticed the look of confusion on your face because just as a second man entered the room, he said, “Does our new waitress know she’s the new waitress?” The second man asked. He was blonde, just as tall and muscular as Barnes, though he looked at you with less of a poker face and more of an amused smirk.

“Really? You just hired her like that?” Mr Barnes asked as he approached you. “I like her.” Natasha countered, both men giving her pointed looks, though Mr Barnes raised his brows and nodded before turning back towards you. “She likes you.” He repeated what Natasha had said. You couldn’t help but send Natasha a questioning glance. She had just met you minutes ago and she’d already analysed you enough to know that she liked you and you wondered if Natasha was much more than just a bar girl.

“Have you done waitressing before?” Barnes asked. “I just asked her that.” Natasha huffed. “Yes sir, waitressing and bar work.” You responded. “And do you have any family?” He asked next. “No sir, none at all.” You replied. “And you know this isn’t the type of job cut out for ordinary people, right? This club sees a lot of things.” Mr Barnes went on. “I do, sir.” You nodded.

“Buck, maybe we should consider-.” But Mr Barnes casually held up his hand to silence his friend. “You’re hired.” He announced, the entire room falling silent and all you could do was stare at Barnes for a moment, stunned that he had just hired you right there on the spot. “I am?” It came out a little more hushed than you had intended, Bucky nodding as he smirked at you. “Whatever your pay is at your old job, I’ll pay at least double, more if it’s not enough. Natasha will contact your old boss and get you ready for your first day.” And with that, Bucky Barnes and his friend left the room and Natasha looked over at you, watching as the astonishment slowly dissipated.

“I’ll let you know when you start work.” Natasha broke the silence and you glanced over at her. “Just like that?” You asked, still surprised. “Just like that.” She responded. “Don’t worry, Barnes wouldn’t keep me around if I wasn’t a good judge of character.” She winked at you and you wondered again if she was something more than just a bar girl.

The job, you realised after your first couple of days working at the club, was far more interesting and a lot more rewarding than your previous job at the old bar. The club was a scene for all kinds of happenings and while nothing nefarious really went on, especially under Bucky Barnes’ nose, you did overhear an awful lot of conversation.

You learned as well in those first few days, that while this was not where Mr Barnes resided, he used the club as a place to carry out some of his business meetings and discussions as well as a place to relax.

Barely a week into your new job, you were getting ready for your shift in the little back room. Lockers lined the walls with a mirror at the side of the door and comfortable benches in the middle of the room. Dressed in a simple, but pretty black dress, you tied the strings of your little demi apron at the back, though you paused, a little startled when the door was abruptly pushed open and Natasha stepped in.

“Barnes needs you.” Nat announced with urgency and you frowned at her. “He does?” You asked. “He needs someone to waitress him and the family tonight, he’s asking for you.” She informed you. “I thought-.” “Yes, I know normally we have security taking orders to the waitresses, but he’s personally asking for you to waitress them tonight.” Nat told you and you paused with a slight air of confusion about you. “Alright, I’ll waitress Mr Barnes then.” You nodded, quickly fumbling with the ties of your apron before you shoved your jacket a bit more firmly into the back of the locker and shut it properly, letting Natasha walk you through the club towards the private dining space they were occupying.

Nat rushed you into the room and closed the door behind you, leaving you to stand rather flustered in front of a cosy looking dining room with a round table in the middle. Bucky was sat at the furthest end of the room, his chair seeming to have a higher back than all of the others. At his left was Steve, who you’d been properly introduced to on your first day at work and on his right was Sam Wilson, who you understood was a very close friend of his.

“Sugar, you made it.” Bucky enthusiastically greeted you as you approached the table. You hoped that you didn’t appear too flustered and intimidated, but you were aware that there was only so much you could play off with smiles when you knew your eyes might give you away. “Good evening Mr Barnes, gentleman.” You nodded, finally taking a step into the room and approaching the table, receiving polite hellos and smiles from all of them. “Are you looking after us tonight?” Steve asked, sitting forward in his seat and casually leaning his elbows on the table. “I am, Mr Rogers.” You nodded, lifting your notepad and pen as if it were proof. “Allow me to introduce you to everyone.” Bucky waved you over to him and you took a few steps towards him as he went around the table naming everyone. It was quite easy to distinguish that the people sitting closest to Bucky were of more importance to him as he listed Clint and Scott, who seemed to be his security and Pietro who appeared at first glance to be a mentee as well as the rest of the group.

“C’mere sweetheart.” Bucky motioned you to come and stand next to him once they were all done ordering food and drink. You stood where he’d pointed to and he turned in his seat to face you. You felt your cheeks warm intensely as Bucky smiled up at you, his eyes so soft and sweet and you questioned for a moment how exactly this man was the King of New York. He was incredibly sweet looking and for a moment you found yourself melting on the spot. “Is that everything, Mr Barnes?” You asked. “Not quite, sugar. Add whatever you’re having to the list, it’s on me.” He grinned at you. “I – uh, sorry?” You asked, a little confused. “Are you sure, Mr Barnes?” You hesitantly met his eyes though you immediately broke eye contact. “Absolutely, please eat with us, doll.” Bucky’s voice went soft as he tilted his head back a little to see you better, his lips pouting ever so slightly. “As you wish, Mr Barnes. Thank you.” You smiled at him, speaking softly before jotting your meal on the notepad and rushing out of the room.

You nearly bumped into Natasha as you made your way towards the kitchen. “He wants me to eat with them.” You blurted out before even making your presence known. “He what?” Nat frowned. “Mr Barnes wants me to order my food and drink and eat with them.” You repeated, more calmly this time. “Really?” She looked at you wide eyed. “Does he not do that with other waitresses?” You questioned, ripping the order out of the notepad and handing it to the kitchen staff. “No, he’s never done that before, never requested it either.” Nat shook her head. “Are you sure?” You surely couldn’t be the only one he’s ever asked. “I’ve worked here every night for three years and not once has he ever requested that.” Nat said with a single raised brow. It was definitely unusual. “I’ll get someone to call for you when the food’s ready. Let me get their drinks together.” She told you, waving you away before she went to look at the order you’d brought in.

You waltzed into the private dining room with a large round tray balanced expertly on one hand. The glasses on top gently clinked together as you walked. Handing out their orders, you took your drink last. You noticed quickly that all the men around the table had shifted and there was now an empty seat next to Bucky. “Come and sit with me, doll.” He patted the empty chair. Steve hopped up to pull it out for you and you obliged, gently sitting yourself down in the chair and turning slightly to face him. You didn’t want to assume you could speak unless spoken to, so you politely kept quiet while Bucky noticeably studied your face. “Tell us about yourself, sweetheart.” He smiled, sitting back in his chair as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“I’ve been around and lived in a few different places. My parents passed several years ago and it’s just been me ever since, so I moved back to Brooklyn.” You did appreciate the soft look on Bucky’s face as he listened to what you said, almost like he felt sorry for you. Before you could continue though, Bucky rested his hand over yours and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry about your parents, truly I am.” He spoke just above a whisper. “Thank you, Mr Barnes.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Call me Bucky. We’re with family, which means we’re all on a first name basis, alright?” Bucky gripped your hand gently. “Alright, Bucky.” You nodded, mirroring his smile.

You told him more about yourself and for a moment, Bucky seemed anything but a mobster. He asked you about the books you liked to read and talked to you about the subjects that seemed to make your eyes light up and your smile a little wider. As the evening drew on, you became comfortable enough to share a few timid little jokes, which elicited chuckles and laughs from even some of the most scary looking men around the table. One of them, Drax, who was terrifyingly huge and angry looking, clapped his hand over his chest and roared with laughter the first time you told a joke, which completely took you by surprise. What surprised you more was how easy it was to make Bucky laugh and how down to earth and sweet he was.

By the time everyone had eaten and spent some time drinking and chatting and enjoying themselves, you had warmed up to all of them, especially Steve, Sam and Bucky. All of them though, were soft and charming on the inside, showing you a side to them you were unsure anyone else in the club was ever going to see. They were intimidating on the outside, exuding a terrifying confidence, but on the inside they were all sweet and gentle and caring and it absolutely melted you.

And after you had said goodbye to all of them and made your way back to the locker room, Clint, one of Bucky’s closer family members, followed you in. “Barnes wants me and Scott to make sure you get home safe.” He told you. “He’s requesting we give you a lift back in his SUV.” Clint added, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his middle. It definitely seemed unusual, especially to be personally driven home. As far as you were aware, not even Natasha, who seemed very close to the family was ever given a lift home. But then again, judging by her reaction to Bucky wanting you to dine with them earlier, you supposed this was all rather new for them, just as much as it was for you. “Alright.” You nodded as you opened your locker, pulling off your apron and putting it away before you took out your jacket and bag, quickly getting them both on before letting Clint escort your towards the back exit.

“Hey doll, hope you don’t mind the spontaneous ride home.” Bucky grinned, far too pleased with himself that he was having his men not only drive him, Steve and Sam home, but also you. Of course it meant he had a longer way home, but Bucky didn’t care. Seeing you all off to your houses was important to him and why seeing you off specifically was important, Bucky was starting to wonder why.

After sliding into the SUV and getting comfortable on the soft, plush seats, you were driven home with gentle, quiet chatter between Bucky and Sam, Steve joining in occasionally until you arrived at your apartment building.

“See you the day after tomorrow, sugar.” Bucky smiled, leaning towards the open door to speak to you as you got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home.” You waved at all of the men in the car, Scott getting out to escort you up to the front door of the building, the car waiting until they had seen you safely into the building and the door shut behind you.

Sitting down in your bedroom, safely back in your apartment you laid down in the soft blankets, replaying the evening in your head, realising you were smiling to yourself when you remembered that Nat had said no one had ever been asked to dine with Bucky and his family before. It brought warmth to your cheeks as you settled in for the night, looking forward to your next shift at Stark’s.

Bucky Taglist (OPEN):

@losers-official @barneswidow @megantje123 @anchoeritic @struggling-bee

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #marvel #marvel fanfic series

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damonjuicyscock · 2 years

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To the end (Chapter 9: End of a century)

Pairing: 90's Damon Albarn x Reader

Warnings: Language, maybe some spelling mistakes

Summary: You are Damon Albarn's girlfriend. You meet two persons and Damon is not going to like it.

Words: 1485

A/N: Hello, short chapter this time, hope you'll like the appearance of new characters that will have some importance in this fanfic.

Enjoy !

“Sex on the TV, everybody's at it The mind gets dirty as you get closer to thirty He gives her a cuddle, they're glowing in a huddle Good night TV, you're all made up and you're looking like me We all say, don't want to be alone We wear the same clothes 'cause we feel the same We kiss with dry lips when we say goodnight End of a century, oh, it's nothing special Can you eat her? Yes, you can”

Glastonbury festival-June 26th 1994:

Troubles started here. I say “started” but that’s not the day it started. I just say they started here because everything has beginnings and endings. Here, it’s about a meeting. Glastonbury 1994, lots of good artists, lots of bands. One of these bands being Oasis. The Mancunian troublemakers. Or so I thought. Liam really was one, but Noel… Noel was only playing with it. When you really know Noel like I do, he’s a deeply sensitive, touching, and tender person. That night, I knew.

- Oi, here she is, the famous girlfriend! I heard, said in a strong Mancunian accent.

It was a party with some bands and artists in many different boxes, during the festival. I turned to see the man.

- Liam Gallagher, troublemaker in chief. I said

- In the flesh baby. He answered

- Huh huh, bad beginning mate. I’m not your baby. I’m Damon’s one, And I have to warn you, don’t you dare touching me or hurt my boyfriend in any way. I answered

Liam chuckled sarcastically

- Oh baby, I won’t hurt him, I don’t need to do this to have you. I’m in the best band of the whole fucking world, you’ll see, you’ll end up in me bed, and I’m a better shag than this fucker.

- You fucking prick. I answered pissed off

- Oi our kid, leave her alone! I heard another Mancunian voice say

The man approached the other, and I turned to see him. He had a cigarette between his lips, ready to be lighten.

- Now go find someone your age, man.

When he finally looked at me, I swear I saw something crossing his eyes, I couldn’t explain what.

- Huh…

- Lost your tongue Noel? I said

- N-No! No! I’m chuffed to finally meet you Y/N Y/L/N. Want a fag?

- Since it is so kindly offered! I answered, smiling at him

It seemed like I had an effect on Noel. He put the cigarette between my lips and kindly lit it up for me.

- Thank you, that’s very kind of you.

- Ye’re welcome! Tell me ‘bout ya

- Well… I’m here with Blur. You know who my boyfriend is, right?

- Yea, y’are Damon’s one. What are you doing with him?

- I love him?

- Sure, but don’t you have any problems with him?

- What kind?

- Well ya know, girls and the stuff, doesn’t it mither ya?

- Oh ! I don’t have any problems with it anymore, he’s entirely faithful to me now. At the beginning of our relationship, he was onto being in an open relationship, but not anymore, I’m his only one.

- Be well careful anyway huh?

- Why?

- I don’t want this wanker to hurt ya.

We only knew each other for two minutes, but it’s like a bond was born between us, he was really nice to me, like… what the fuck, I was the “enemy’s” girlfriend, why did he even bother to talk to me?

As I inhaled some smoke from my cigarette, I felt his gaze on my lips.

- Yes Noel, I’ll be if you can be relieved.

- Oh and soz our kid, he can be a real prick.

- Our kid, IS a kid, let him be, he’ll end up growing up.

- Yeah, hope so me.

What I didn’t know was that another gaze was on me during all this time. Damon’s. And he clearly wasn’t happy to see me talk with Noel.

- Thanks for the cig, gotta go back to Damon now, he’s waiting for me. It was nice talking to you Noel.

- Anytime Y/N.

I came back to Damon. A pissed off Damon.

- What were you doing with Noel Gallagher? He asked me on an angry tone

- Just chatting. He offered me a cig.

- Yeah, I saw that. Don’t you have hands and fingers?

- Why’s that? I answered, surprised

- To put this goddamn cigarette in your mouth and light it up like a grown-up girl!

He was being aggressive now. Jealous Damon was back.

- Dames, it was nothing more than a cig!

- He was flirting with you! Don’t you fucking see?

- He wasn’t…

- Yes, HE WAS!

- He was just being a gentleman!

- Yeah, and I can be too. Why wouldn’t I go propose a cig to one of the groupies here? And light it for her, and shag her in the end?

I thought all of this was behind us. I was wrong. Damon just threatened me in front of everyone, and my heart shattered in front of everyone. The boys heard everything.

- Damon! Graham shouted at him

- You know what? Fuck you Damon! I said getting up and going outside

Someone followed me. I felt the tears threatening to fall. Once I was outside, sat and crying, a hand touched my shoulder.

I turned to see Graham.

- Hey Y/N, are you okay?

I broke down, and he took me in his arms, hugging me.

- He really can be a fucking bastard! I said, sobbing against his chest

- You know how Damon can really be a dick when he’s frustrated.

- I swear I was only having a random chat with Noel, nothing more.

- I know Y/N, I saw you both. I don’t even know why he got jealous and was mean to you like this.

- He knows I won’t ever cheat on him, why does he have to be so cruel?

- It’s okay Y/N, he’ll realize he fucked up.

After I stopped crying, Graham and I sat here for a few minutes, smoking a cigarette together. I decided to go back to the caravan where we were sleeping, where I took a shower, and laid in the bed, crying again.

Not even 5 minutes after, Damon walked into the room.

- Y/N…

- What do you fucking want?

- I’m sorry… he answered

- You’re sorry? How am I to trust you and love you if you threaten me when you get jealous, even if you fucking know I’ll never cheat on you Damon?

- I didn’t mean it, I was angry.

- Don’t you fucking spill your hate on me! I don’t deserve it.

My face was pressed against the pillow, drinking all my tears. That’s where I heard him sob, the man was crying too. He laid next to me, trying a little touch on my arm, in the hope that I would let him hold me. And Damon crying made me weak, and I couldn’t stay angry at him in those cases.

I turned to face him, and he kissed me.

- what have I done to deserve this?

- I’m so sorry, you know I love you right? It’s just…I’m so afraid to lose you.

- Don’t you ever do this to me again Damon. Never. Understood?

His fingers entwined with mine.

- I promise. I can’t lose you; I love you. He sobbed

- And I love you too.

Damon was respectful after this. We slept without having sex. At the time, we didn’t have make-up sex. It wasn’t my thing.

A few days after, Oasis first album was released. Both bands were promoting their albums, and Liam Gallagher was fancying me, or to translate in his language, wanted to shag me. The one who had a crush on me was Noel. Liam just wanted to have what Damon had. And everytime we were able to, Damon and I were going at it, “christening places” like he said.

Time passed, Damon and I were together for more than a year when Blur’s live in Paris took place. I knew Damon for his love for France and French language. It was a week before Halloween, and we were touring in a bus.

Before leaving Paris, Damon took me for a walk on the banks. After all, Paris is said to be the most romantic city in the world. Especially when it’s raining, just like it was that night. And by raining, I meant heavy rain.

This walk was kind of half romantic, half chaotic. Happily, I took the right clothes, But Damon decided to change in a suit. Not really a good idea in my opinion. For once, none of us were drunk. Well at least, not yet.

#90's damon albarn #damon albarn #damon albarn smut #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn fanfic #alex james #blur band #dave rowntree #graham coxon #britpop #gorillaz #Spotify

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trashyswitch · 4 years

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Free Head Pats!

Patton loves giving the sides head pats! It IS hidden in Patton's name, after all. An adorable fact he learned from giving out head pats, was that Roman loves them! But not just because they felt good...

Eventually, it's discovered that Virgil holds the exact same secret! And Virgil didn't even know it was possible!

This idea was inspired by something that happened in real life. Hope you guys like it!

Patton and Logan were curled in together on the couch, cuddling and reading. Patton was giving Logan a long head massage, while Logan was attempting to read while enjoying the feeling of Patton’s trance-inducing head scratches. The world seemed to have slowed down a lot as they spent time together. It was very quiet in the house. The only sounds that Patton could identify were the faint noises in the background, but those faint noises rarely lasted long. The noises usually faded away and rarely came back.

Soon enough, Patton lessened his head pats and removed his hand from Logan’s head. Logan smiled, closed his eyes, closed his book as well, and leaned his head on Patton’s arm. “Thank you Patton.” Logan said softly.

“No problem Logan! Glad I could soothe you!” Patton replied nicely.

After a while of laying on Patton’s arm, Logan stood up and walked towards a different chair with his book, so someone else could have some head scratches from Patton.

That person turned out to be Roman.

Patton smiled and held out his arms to Roman. “Come hither, my prince! I’m giving out free head pats!” Patton told him.

Roman gasped and practically lunged himself for the couch. Laying himself down, Roman snuggled himself in and hummed at the warmth. “Thanks Pat.” Roman said calmly.

“I didn’t even start yet!” Patton reacted before starting to pet his head.

“I know. But you basically reached out to me when you knew I would want them. And that’s wohorth thehe- HEhehehey! Cahaharefuhuhul!” Roman explained. He was quickly interrupted by his own laughter however, due to Patton’s inability to keep from scratching his head as well.

“What? What’s so funny?” Patton asked innocently.

“Yohou’re tihihicklihihing mehe! Ihihihi thohought thehey wehehere juhust hehehead pahats?” Roman asked, giggling with a wobbly smile on his face.

“They are! But they’re also my world-famous head scratches as well!” Patton replied.

Patton started moving his dull fingernails towards the sides and back of the head. That was when Roman’s giggles increased dramatically. “EEEEEEHEHEHEK! Pahahahahattohohon, cohohohome ohohohohon!” Roman giggled as he shook his head.

“I don’t understand what’s so funny about this. I’m just trying to give my special little dragonslayer a few head pats to keep you stress free.” Patton explained.

Roman reached up and grabbed Patton’s hand. “Stohohop. Ihihihit tihihihicklehehes! Yohohou knohohow thihihis!” Roman reacted.

“Know what?” Patton asked with an innocent smile on his face.

Roman narrowed his eyes at him. “...I feel tricked.” Roman told him.

“You can just let me give you head pats. Or I can do this:” Patton reached down and started skittering his fingers on Roman’s exposed armpit.

Roman squealed and let go of Patton’s dominant hand right away. “NAHAHAHA! YOHOHOU SUHUHUHUCK!” Roman laughed.

“Now how in the world do I suck? I thought you like armpit tickles?” Patton stated.

“IHIHI LIHIHIHIKE HEHEHEAHAD PAHATS MOHOHOHOHORE!” Roman shouted.

“Oooooh! Well in that case:” Patton removed his hand from his armpit and started lightly scratching his fingers on the back of Roman’s head.

“EEEEK! NOHOHOhohohohoho!” Roman bursted into giggles.

“Tiiiickle tickle tickle tickle tickle~” Patton teased while he scratched right in the back of Roman’s skull.

Roman threw his head back and bursted out laughing. “HAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOHOHO! PAHAHAHAHAT! KNOHOHOCK IHIHIHIT OHOHOHOFF!” Roman begged.

“Here’s a cute little fact! You can love yourself away from my hand at any time. Isn’t that amazing?” Patton mentioned.

“NOHOHOHO IHIHI CAHAHAHAN’T!” Roman reacted.

“You really can! I even left your arms free! You can reach up and grab my hand anytime you want to!” Patton explained further.

“DOHOHOHOESN’T MEHEHEAN IHIHIHI WAHAHAHANT TOHOHOHO…” Roman stated.

Patton gasped and paused his tickling. “Really?! You like it?!” Patton reacted.

Roman’s laughter turned back into giggles as he started to calm down. “Ihihihi...Yehehes...Ihihi lihike ihihit.” Roman replied calmly.

Patton’s smile grew even wider as he clapped his hands rapidly. “OH MY GOSH THE DRAGONSLAYER HAS HIT ULTIMATE ADORABLENESS! I’M SO PROUD!” Patton shouted before pulling Roman into a big dad hug.

“Ohohokahay. Buhut dohon’t go around telling people. Alright?” Roman warned. Patton gave the back of Roman’s head a few scratches in reply. “EEEK! Pahahat! Whahahat dihid Ihihi juhust sahahay?!” Roman bursted.

Patton stopped his ticklish scratches and looked Roman in the eyes. “You told me you love getting ticklish head scratchies, and you don’t want me to to tell any one of the sides.” Patton replied.

“Mm hmm. And...are you going to comply?” Roman asked.

Patton, in response, fluffed Roman’s bangs. “Of course! Why would I ever expose a HoRriFyInG weakness of Roman’s like that? That’s just CrUeL!” Patton exclaimed dramatically.

Roman’s hopeful facial expression dropped at the sarcasm. “...Are you secretly Janus? You’d better not be...” Roman asked.

Patton giggled. “Would Janus be able to say ‘Tickle’ without cowering away all flustered?” Patton asked.

Roman remembered the last time Patton tried to get Janus to say ‘Tickle’. It was really funny to see Janus all blushy. The side's laughter only increased when Janus started cowering in behind the couch in order to hide his face and ticklish spots. That just made them HOWL!

Roman had started laughing along with Patton. “You have a point.” Roman muttered.

Patton soon let the prince go do his own thing while he sat on the couch with his phone. He had been getting bored of his book and had decided to play some Frogger on his phone. Ever since a remastered version of the arcade game came out on the app store, Patton had been hooked. Soon, Patton’s 10 minutes of free time had been wonderfully interrupted by the dark, the strange: Virgil.

“...Did I hear something about free head pats?” Virgil asked.

Patton looked up and gasped. “Hi Virgil!” Patton greeted. “Is that your way of asking for head pats?” Patton asked.

Virgil nodded. “Yes please.” Virgil replied as he walked over.

Patton patted the empty left side of the couch. “Come. I’ll give you some head pats.” Patton offered.

Virgil sat himself down on the empty spot and laid himself onto Patton’s lap like a cat. Patton started gently patting his head and fluffing his hair gently. Virgil almost immediately smiled at the feeling. This meant the feeling was already wonderful!

As Patton continued fluffing and massaging his head, Patton began to smile as he gazed upon his dark strange son. It was really nice of him to come to him for head scratches. He hasn’t really done that at all, before now. Virgil was a bit hard to get, in a platonic way. He often hid his need for love through blunt, and subtle reactions. But Patton could see past it. He wants friends, but is afraid to ask for love because of judgement reasons. Perhaps he should start offering up love and affection to him more often? That might be a nice idea.

Patton was pulled out of his thoughts when he started feeling head shakes. Not to mention there were subtle tittering sounds coming from the emo. “You...You okay Virgil?” Patton asked, leaning his head to the side so he could look at Virgil.

“Mmmmmmmm-fine.” Virgil muttered.

Patton lifted an eyebrow, and slowly resumed his head scratches.

Virgil’s smile seemed to have returned. So, Patton ignored his suspicions and resumed his head pats.

But it didn’t take long for Patton’s hand to start drifting a little to the left. More specifically, to the lower back of Virgil’s scalp. Virgil’s titters quickly returned and started falling into giggles. To stop them, Virgil covered his mouth with his hand to at least muffle all the giggles.

“What are you thinking about, that’s so funny?” Patton asked.

“Mmmmhmhmhmhm-nothing-...ahabsolutelynothing.” Virgil attempted to reply.

“...Really?” Patton asked.

Virgil shook his head and moved his head away from Patton’s hand. “Ihihit tickles. You’re tickling me.” Virgil explained.

Patton’s eyes widened as he processed what Virgil had said. “...It...tickles…” Patton slowly clarified.

Virgil gulped as he realized his mistake, but decided to just let it out now to save himself from getting interrogated about it later. “Yes. It tickles too much. My scalp is too ticklish for head pats, I guess.” Virgil explained.

Virgil let out a breath of air in relief before glancing his eyes over to Patton. Almost immediately, Virgil regretted it: Patton was staring at him with an evil smirk, twirling thumbs, and a mischievous glint of light in his eyes. The first thing that ran through Virgil’s head was…

FEAR THE FATHER

Virgil attempted to roll himself off of the couch, but Patton’s hand had already tweaked his right side. This caused his instinctive body to turn towards the cushioned back of the couch, rather than the carpet-covered floor. With this amazing response working to Patton’s advantage, Patton wrapped his left arm under his left armpit and grasped Virgil’s right shoulder, before tucking his right hand under giving Virgil’s lower scalp and giving it some tickles and scratches.

“NOOO! NO-AAAH!” Virgil yelped. Virgil held his breath in an attempt to not laugh and dissatisfy the evil Patton.

“Oooooh! So you’re gonna try and not laugh then?” Patton asked with his villainous smirk.

Virgil frowned at him in confidence. He was ready to try and hold all his laughs in. It’s just a little tickling on the neck, right? He can handle this.

Patton tried tickling the hollow skinned spot on the upper part of his neck. Virgil let out a muffled squeal, but calmed himself down really easily. Yeah! That right there, was proof that he is a big man! If he can hide his need for love and affection, he can hide his laughter induced by tickling. It’s easy!

...Theeeeen Patton scratched right behind his left ear.

“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAP!” Virgil bursted out.

“Awww! Your ears are ticklish too!” Patton squealed excitedly.

“NOT THE EARS! NOHOHOT THEHEHE EEEEHEHEHEHEARS!” Virgil yelled.

“Is it because your poor, poor ears are highly too ticklish for this?” Patton asked.

“YEHEHEHES!” Virgil shouted back.

“Would you like me to stop?” Patton asked.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” Virgil begged.

“Okay.” Patton stopped tickling behind his ear and wrapped his other hand around Virgil calmly and started rubbing his back.

Virgil took a few moments to calm himself down before asking Patton to give him more head massages. Patton happily accepted, and started testing out where exactly he was ticklish. After some tests, Patton discovered that Virgil’s lower scalp and ears were very ticklish, while the rest of Virgil’s scalp was only the slightest bit ticklish. When they finally finished the little test, Patton cuddled Virgil as he calmed down for good.

“Wanna know something?” Patton asked.

“...Okay.” Virgil replied.

“You’re not the only one who has a ticklish scalp.” Patton told him.

“I’m not?” Virgil asked.

“Roman has a ticklish scalp as well.” Patton told him outright.

Virgil’s eyes widened in surprise as he processed the brand new information.

With one swift move, Virgil stood up from Patton’s cuddle session and walked up to Roman’s room. He opened up the room without knocking, picked up Roman, and walked to the living room with Roman in his hands bridal style.

Patton looked over and bursted out laughing at Roman’s sudden appearance.

“Wow! I...I knew my prince would come, but...It didn’t know my prince would be an emo…” Roman muttered.

“Here Patton. Have a prince.” Virgil offered before plopping Roman into Patton’s lap. “Meanwhile, I have to test this out myself.” Virgil declared.

With smooth, quick fingers and a surprisingly high-pitched voice, Virgil started baby teasing him and tickling his scalp. More importantly: the back of the scalp.

“WAHAHAHAIT! WAHAIT AHAHA- VIHIHIHIHIRGIHIL!” Roman bursted out.

“Wooooow! You really DO have a ticklish scalp. How unusual...how fascinating. How-”

“Adorable!” Patton added.

Virgil yelped anxiously and sent Patton a flustered glare. “NO!” Virgil yelled at him.

“Yohohou’re tihihicklihing mehehehehehe!” Roman giggled as he shook his head back and forth.

“I’m surprised your hair hasn’t killed you with tickles yet.” Virgil noticed, increasing the tickles as he gained back focus.

“IHIHIT’S AHAHA LAHAHAYEHEHER OHOF PROHOTEHEHEHEHECTION!” Roman laughed.

“Is it now? Then tell me...” Virgil leaned into his ear and whispered the following sentence: “Is it protecting you now?”.

Roman felt a shiver run down his spine from the breath and only curled in and laughed further thanks to the teasing. “STAHAHAP IHIHIHIT! NOHOHOHO TEHEHEHEASIHING!” Roman begged.

“But why? Do you make your face turn the same shade as your sash?” Virgil teased.

“HOHOHOW DAHAHAHARE YOHOHOU!” Roman yelled at him in an attempted angry tone.

“Ooh! Now you’re angry at me?” Virgil reacted.

“That’s ironic, considering you like it so much.” Patton added.

Roman shrieked and shot Patton the biggest hairy eyeball he could muster. But Patton wasn’t concerned in the slightest. “Aww, come on Roman. Just sit back and enjoy it!” Patton suggested as he skittered his fingers on the right upper side of Roman’s scalp. Roman squealed and curled in as he giggled. Virgil, catching on, started massaging both sides of Roman’s head in a similar way to spreading shampoo in the shower.

“NO! NAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Roman bursted out laughing, falling into cackles soon after.

“Who knew the man responsible for the death of nearly hundreds of dragons, can easily go down with a few scritchy-scratchies on his precious widdle neck?” Virgil teased.

“MEHEHEHEAN! MEHEHEHEANIHIHIHIE!” Roman shouted at him, before reaching up and grabbing Virgil’s wrists.

But Patton was one step ahead, and started tickling his now-exposed underarms. “Ooopsies! The princey’s ticklish armpits are freeeee for the tickling!” Patton teased further, switching back and forth between the left and the right armpits.

Roman fell into another round of cackles and dropped his arms down, trapping Patton’s fingers in his armpits. But with the fingers still moving the slightest bit, Roman started squirming back and forth and shaking his head helplessly and desperately. It felt amazing! But boy, did it take a toll on your lungs!

Soon, Virgil and Patton stopped their tickling and teasing to give the poor man a break. But Roman had calmed himself down a little quicker than Virgil had expected. The thing is, Roman’s lungs were in killer condition for long fights. So tickle fights were barely sweat inducing!

“You know Roman...you’re not the only one with a ticklish scalp.” Patton told the prince.

Roman blinked and tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy. “Really?” Roman asked.

Virgil knew EXACTLY what Patton was planning. So, Virgil took off running.

“Aaaaaaand there he goes.” Patton muttered.

“Wait...It’s Virgil?” Roman asked.

“Yup.” Patton said with a smirk.

“Wait, REALLY?!” Roman reacted, unable to believe it.

“He took off to your room. Go get him!” Patton cheered.

And off he went! Roman had sprinted after Virgil and practically body tackled the door out of the way. It didn’t take long for Virgil’s deep, but loud laughter to leak itself out of Roman’s room. Patton smiled at the nice sound and allowed himself to enjoy the lovely sound.

A job well done is always rewarded with a good half an hour of Frogger!

#ticklefic #ler!patton #switch!virgil #lee!roman #head pats #slight prinxiety mention #fluff

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 26: Jon

When Jon’s grandmother passed away peacefully in her sleep, not long after his twenty-fourth birthday, he quickly discovered that her life insurance and savings weren’t enough to cover all the bills that needed to be covered and put the house he’d grown up in on the market. He only vaguely remembers the whole procedure, as he was in something of a state of shock at the time, but he does remember accepting the first offer presented to him despite the realtor’s comments that he could “probably hold out for a bit more” if he wanted. Thus, he’s the only one not really startled at the speed with which he, Martin, and Tim find out that they’ve got the house.

To be clear: He’s not startled at the speed. He is, however, startled that they got it. Surely someone must have been willing to pay more for it, been better qualified. But no. They learn their offer has been accepted less than a week after the Primes’ disastrous encounter with Basira’s partner and the closing is scheduled for the following Friday. Martin theorizes that their position at the Magnus Institute gave them some extra clout. Tim jokes that it’s his charismatic personality. Jon frets that Elias might have had something to do with it for nefarious purposes.

Sasha finally does some research and tells them that it’s being sold by a pair of siblings barely out of their teens whose parents died unexpectedly and probably just need the money fast.

Martin doesn’t have much, just the little he managed to bring with him to the Institute when first escaping Jane Prentiss and the few things he’s re-acquired since then, and Jon’s things are still packed up from when he declined to renew the lease on his flat in August, so it’s mostly just Tim who needs to decide what he’s keeping and what he’s ready to part with or needs to replace. It takes them the better part of two Saturdays, but they manage to get everything boxed and sorted in time to move out the last full weekend of September.

The moving-in process is surprisingly fun. Sasha and the Primes even come to help (Tim suggests the latter so that Martin Prime knows his way around the house from the get-go, which is actually really sensible) and they make a party of it. Tim insists on setting up the sound system first, then gets everyone to contribute a certain number of songs to a playlist on some app he has on his phone. He puts it on shuffle and lets it play while they work together on the various rooms.

“Oh, my God,” Sasha moans after the eighth song that she evidently didn’t pick comes on. “Do any of you listen to a single band that’s put out an album since 1984?”

“Yes,” Martin says indignantly, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“Remasters don’t count.”

Martin Prime grins. “None of mine have come up, either.”

“What did you put on?” Sasha asks suspiciously.

She gets her answer a few minutes later when, after shuffle coughs up a Spice Girls song they all tease her mercilessly about, an honest to God sea shanty comes on. Tim and Jon laugh at Sasha’s dramatic, despairing groan, but it’s hard not to respond to the Martins’ enthusiasm as they—surprisingly—harmonize along with the recording while they set up the living room.

They’re almost done assembling the new bed Tim bullied Jon into buying (“You’re not in uni anymore, you don’t need to be sleeping on a futon, and anyway, when was this made, the Thatcher premiership?” “Brown, and shut up, Tim.”), which is the last piece of furniture they need to put together, when there’s a sound from the front door—two firm, solid knocks, audible all the way upstairs. Jon nearly drops the screwdriver as his heart kicks against his ribs. It’s stupid, and he knows it’s stupid, but two knocks like that always makes him think of that book.

Tim makes a noise in the back of his throat. “God, hope the music isn’t too loud.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Martin says, but he sounds uncertain. “I-I mean, it’s been ages.”

Jon pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll check.”

He hurries out of the bedroom before anyone can comment on the clear break in his voice. He is, and there is no way to deny it to himself, legitimately afraid of what might be outside. The likelihood of it being a being of another entity is slim, but…well, there was Mr. Spider, and Jane Prentiss knocked on Martin’s door more than a few times to keep him off-balance, so there’s always the chance. It’s something he feels he can deal with, though, so he heads out to face it.

He does not, however, expect to open the door and be faced with what is either a small child or a casserole dish with tennis shoes.

“Hello,” a tiny voice says brightly from behind the dish. There’s a bit of shifting, and then two big brown eyes and a mass of curls appear over the rim. “I’ve brought you a cake.”

Jon will deny to his dying day that those words freeze his blood in his veins and make his heart stutter to a stop, but since this might actually be his dying day, he’ll be lying if he tries. His lips part, but no sound comes out.

“And a casserole, too,” the child continues, completely oblivious to Jon’s unwarranted panic attack. “That’s not as much fun, though, but Nan says it’s important to eat good, hearty food when you’ve been doing lots of work and that cake shouldn’t be a whole meal. I think there’s no point in being a grown-up if you can’t eat whatever you want, but…” The child heaves an enormous, dramatic sigh that seems too large for such a small body. “My Nan’s very, very old, and you don’t get to be old if you don’t do something right, so she must know what she’s talking about. Anyway, we made the casserole with lots and lots of cheese and she said that was okay, so at least it’s a little better.”

“Ah—thank you?” Jon manages. “H-here, let me…take that.”

He manages to extract the casserole dish, which certainly feels as if it’s laden with cheese; it weighs the proverbial ton. Quite possibly a literal one. It’s solid enough to anchor Jon to reality, though, and he studies his benefactor. The child can’t be more than seven or eight, at the most, with a round face and limbs hidden in an oversized, threadbare sweater that looks like it’s been handed down through more than a few generations. Dangling from one arm is a wicker basket that does indeed appear to contain a cake.

“It’s a chocolate cake with marshmallow frosting,” the child says. “I tried to write ‘Welcome to the neighborhood’ on it, but I didn’t put the tip on the piping bag right and it came off, so now it’s just a mess, but it’ll taste just as good, I promise. My Nan makes the best cakes.”

Jon smiles in spite of himself. “I don’t think I have enough hands to take it from you now. Would you mind bringing it into the kitchen for me?”

“Oh, sure!” The child practically hops over the threshold. “I always wanted to see what this house was like on the inside. Tibby used to babysit for me sometimes, but she always came over to our house, never me coming over here. Nan says it’s better that way, and Tibby always said it was laid out exactly like all the other houses, but it’s not the same as seeing it for yourself. Firsthand knowledge is best, that’s what I think. What do you think?”

“I—I think I agree with you,” Jon says. He also feels a bit like he’s staring at his younger self. “I assume you live in one of the other houses on the row?”

“Two doors down,” the child agrees cheerfully. “With the window boxes. My Nan likes to garden a bit, but she can’t bend over so much anymore, so Toby set up the window boxes for her a couple years ago.”

“And, uh, who is…Toby?”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you knew. Toby McGill. He and Tibby—that’s his sister Tabitha, but everyone calls her Tibby—they were the ones selling this house after their parents died. He’s at Surrey University now and he says he’s going to stay out there when it’s all said and done, and Tibby got a job on a boat.” The child sounds deeply impressed. “I want to be a sailor someday, too. Can you imagine getting to see the whole wide world by water and getting paid for it, too? I’d never want to leave. I told Tibby she has to save a spot on the crew for me and she laughed and promised, so I can’t wait. I’m going as soon as I grow up. I’m not going to university. You don’t need to go to university for everything, you know. I know Nan really wants me to go ‘cause Mum didn’t and neither did Dad and she doesn’t want me turning out like them, but you can turn out well even if you don’t go to university, can’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Jon says gravely. He casts an involuntary glance in the direction of the stairs, thinking of Martin. “One of my housemates didn’t go to university, and he’s one of the most brilliant people I know.”

“How many of you live here, anyway?”

“Just three of us.” Jon has no idea how much this child has seen and how many people he knows are in the house at the moment.

“Oh. There used to be three of us in my house, too.” The child scuffs a toe against the carpet just before they step into the kitchen. “And then there was going to be four, but Mum died and the baby did, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says softly, feeling a pang. “I grew up with my grandmother, too.”

The child looks up at Jon and smiles, in such a way that Jon can’t help but smile back. “And you turned out okay.”

“Debatable,” Jon says. He sets the casserole dish on the counter. “I’m Jon, by the way. Jonathan Sims.”

“I’m Charlie. Charlie Cane.” The child smiles up at him and hands over the basket. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Tell your grandmother we said thank you. I don’t know that any of us will have the energy to cook tonight. We’ll bring back the dishes tomorrow.”

“There’s no hurry. Nan doesn’t go anywhere.” Charlie flashes Jon a grin that’s missing two teeth, then turns and waves to the doorway. Jon glances up to see Martin, looking somewhere between worried and amused. “Hi! I’m Charlie Cane. Welcome to the neighborhood. Do you live here, too?”

“Um…yes. I’m Martin Blackwood. It’s…nice to meet you?” Martin raises an eyebrow at Jon.

“Charlie and his grandmother made us a casserole,” Jon says, gesturing at the counter. “And a cake.”

“That’s very nice of you. Thank you.” Martin smiles at Charlie and winks, although Jon doesn’t quite understand why.

“Welcome.” Charlie’s beaming smile could probably light the house for a week. “I’d best go before Nan thinks I’m doing something stupid again. See you later!”

He’s out the front door before Jon can respond, or even blink. He looks back to Martin, who isn’t even trying to hide his amusement. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Jon. We were just wondering if you were okay. You were gone for a while.”

Jon gestures vaguely at the front door. “I don’t think that child has many people to talk to. Or at least not many people who will listen to him.”

Martin snorts. “I think you’ve got yourself a new best friend.”

Jon almost wants to say something flippant like Just what I need, but thinking on it, he actually doesn’t mind all that much. “Considering how much I would have given to have an adult pay that kind of attention to me when I was his age, I think I can handle that.”

Martin reaches over and pulls Jon into a hug. Jon lets himself be comforted for a moment, then extricates himself gently and smiles. “Come on. Let’s see if the others are ready to eat.”

As it turns out, the others finished putting together the bed and even made it while Jon talked to Charlie, so they’re all too happy to come into the kitchen for a hearty meal. It’s exactly as cheese-laden as Charlie promised. Jon recounts his conversation, to general amusement, although something flickers briefly across Martin Prime’s face and Jon Prime shoots Jon an understanding and slightly frightened look when he repeats Charlie’s opening words. If anyone else notices, they give no sign of it.

Tim lets the music keep playing while they eat. Jon mostly tunes it out, no pun intended, and he rather suspects the others do too. But just as they’re scraping their plates clean—the food is delicious, and Tim declares he’s going to try and charm Charlie’s grandmother out of the recipe—Martin Prime suddenly tilts his head to one side, as if trying to catch a sound. A smile twitches at his lips, and he stands up and holds out a hand to Jon Prime. “May I?”

Jon Prime looks startled for a split-second, then smiles—no, grins—and places his hand in Martin Prime’s. He lets Martin Prime pull him away from the table and into his arms, and the two of them start slow-dancing.

Jon pauses, fork suspended over his plate, and watches them. Jon Prime lets Martin Prime lead him in a simple box step, one arm draped casually over Martin Prime’s shoulder, while Martin Prime’s hand rests firmly at his waist; their other fingers are laced together in a way that would make it difficult to telegraph intended moves if they didn’t—probably—know each other so well. The space between them is so little it’s a wonder they don’t constantly trip over each other’s feet, and before long their foreheads touch. The song is gentle and plaintive, encouragement from one partner to the other to trust and relax and allow the first to take care of the second, a promise that the second person won’t be considered weak or lesser if they allow themselves to be comforted.

I promise you’ll be safe here in my arms…

Martin Prime lifts his arm and spins Jon Prime around gently, and when Jon Prime comes back into the closed frame, he leans his head against the shoulder where his hand isn’t resting and closes his eyes. Martin Prime pulls him closer and rests his cheek alongside Jon Prime’s as they continue dancing. It’s one of the most intimate and romantic things Jon has ever seen, and he almost has to look away from it.

Almost. Not quite. Something keeps him drawn, and there’s a tiny part of Jon’s brain that suggests it probably isn’t just the pleasure at seeing someone who’s basically him safe and happy and in love mixed with the vague sense of longing for something like that—maybe not that exactly, but something like it. It may also be that watching the Primes slow dancing means he doesn’t have to look at anyone else.

The song plays itself out. Martin Prime turns his head slightly; Jon Prime turns his at the same time, and their lips meet gently in the middle. This time Jon does look away. He’s never quite been able to figure out how he feels about kissing, to be honest; it’s one of the things that sent his and Georgie’s relationship down in flames, was the fact that he always acted like you think I’ve got poison in my lip gloss, according to her. But he finds himself wondering for a moment what Martin’s lips would feel like against his, if they’d be as soft and warm as the rest of him. If it might make a difference to kiss Martin instead of Georgie, or Meredith, or Kelly. And that’s not a question he’s comfortable asking himself just then, let alone trying to answer.

The scrape of a chair breaks his attention, and he looks up to see the Primes sitting down like nothing happened, although they’re still holding hands. Tim clears his throat. “Who wants cake?”

The cake is, as promised, a bit of a mess—it looks like someone tried to tease out the blob created by the icing tip popping off with a toothpick or something, but the resultant design looks like the pictures someone showed Jon once of a web woven by a spider that had been fed caffeine, and the fact that the icing is bright red doesn’t help—but it is absolutely delicious.

Afterward, Tim and Jon store the leftovers while Martin and Sasha start on the dishes. Jon Prime glances at the kitchen clock and touches Martin Prime on the shoulder. “We should probably go. The later it gets, the more likely that…someone might cruise by the Institute, and I’d rather not risk that.”

Martin Prime squeezes Jon Prime’s hand gently, and Jon swallows on the sudden surge of nausea. They haven’t seen anything of Detective Tonner, and Basira didn’t say anything about her when she showed up last week to switch out the tapes, but the memory of the Primes’ faces when they stumbled back to Tim’s place to change and return his car is a hard one to shake. Even though Jon Prime swears he and Daisy eventually became friends, it’s the eventually that sticks out, and Jon isn’t sure what he’ll do if Daisy turns up at the Institute. It’s also obvious that the Primes are more afraid of her than they’re letting on.

Tim opens his mouth, probably to invite them to spend the night or something, but Sasha beats him to it. “Can you wait a few minutes? I’d rather not walk to the tube station by myself, if it comes to that, and I think you said there’s an entrance to the tunnels near there.”

Jon Prime frowns slightly. “I…don’t think I did, but there is.”

“We’ll walk with you, Sasha,” Martin Prime assures her.

Tim sighs theatrically. “I feel a little better, which is a relative statement not to be taken as approval.”

“Your objection is duly noted.” Sasha hands Martin a plate to dry.

All too soon, everything is cleaned up, just as the playlist comes to an end, and there’s really no way of stalling them further. There’s a round of hugs and see-you-Mondays, and then Sasha and the Primes head out the door, leaving Jon, Martin, and Tim alone in their new house.

It’s not that late, comparatively, so Jon suggests a card game. They’ve played most nights since Sasha went back to sleeping in her own flat; they’ve played a couple of games of Rummy or Go Fish, and Tim once tried to teach Jon and Martin a game he learned from his grandparents that uses a forty-card deck (Martin picked it up quickly, Jon did not), but most of the time they play Crazy Eights. Tim declares that they’re going to keep playing until either he or Jon or both manage to overtake Martin’s score, which is clearly going to be an impossible task, as he’s up by nearly a thousand points and consistently wins at least three or four games a night. Still, they give it a valiant effort. After Martin manages to go out while both Tim and Jon still have an eight each in their hand, though, they decide to call it quits for one night.

“Someday I’ll figure out how you keep doing that,” Jon says, shuffling the deck lightly before putting it back in the box.

Martin shrugs. “Practice, I guess? I used to play with my granddad a lot when I was younger. We kept a running total, too, and I think I was up three thousand points or so when he died.”

Tim gives a low whistle. “How old were you?”

“Nine. We’d been playing pretty regularly since I was five. At least one game every time I went to visit.”

Jon thinks back to the conversation he and Martin had in Tim’s kitchen the morning after Prentiss’s attack. “Is this the grandfather who had the cherry trees?”

“You remembered.” Martin looks pleased. “Yeah, he was my mum’s dad. I never met my dad’s family, that I remember anyway.” He pauses. “You, uh, you told Charlie you were raised by your grandmother. Was that…?”

Jon didn’t know Martin was there, but he’s kind of glad he doesn’t have to figure out how to bring it up. “My father’s mother. She was…formidable. My father died when I was two, from an accidental fall, and my mother died a couple years later. Surgery complications.”

“I’m sorry,” Martin says softly. “That must have been hard on you.”

“Harder on my grandmother, I think. I was barely old enough to remember them.” All Jon remembers of his father is his laugh, and he’s fairly certain that most of his memories of his mother come from his aunt.

Tim leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “Is she still around? Your grandmother?”

Jon shakes his head. “She died just before I started working at the Institute. What about yours, Tim?”

“My dad’s dad is the only grandparent still around. I think.” Tim worries at his lower lip with his teeth for a moment. “I’d like to think someone would call me if something happened, but I don’t know.”

Martin hums sympathetically. “Is he…in a home?”

“Not as far as I know. Last I heard, he was still living with my parents. Moved in when Granny died, just after I left for university.” Tim sighs. “We’re not…close. After Danny…”

Jon reaches over and touches Tim’s arm gently. “It must be hard on them, losing a son. No parent expects to outlive their child.”

“That’s just it. Mum refuses to believe he’s dead.” Tim smiles weakly. “No body, you know? Dad isn’t sure, but he also thinks I know more than I’ve told them. Grandfather all but accused me of having a hand in Danny’s disappearance.”

“What?” Jon blinks, shocked. “How could anyone think you’d—you would never.”

“I know, but…well, Dad’s family was always a bit conservative, blue collar and all that, and I’m…well, me. I think that’s why Dad encouraged my hiking and camping and all that. Hoped it would knock some ‘sense’ into me,” Tim says with a wry twist of his lips. “Once I came out as bi, though, I think they decided there was no hope left for me. It just got worse after Danny died.”

Martin’s expressive face closes down, and Jon’s stomach lurches. This is the most they’ve talked about their families in…ever, he thinks, but from the little bits of information Martin—and Martin Prime, for that matter—have let slip, Jon has formed a very unfavorable impression of Martin’s mother. He’s always kind of had a hazy idea that Tim’s family situation was better, especially after he heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Danny when giving his statement, and finding out that it wasn’t much better than theirs…

“How old were you?” he asks, not sure why. “When you—told them.”

“Seventeen. There was a guy I’d been seeing—nothing serious, really, but we had fun together—and we went out for Valentine’s Day. My parents were confused because they knew my girlfriend and I had just broken up before Christmas and I hadn’t mentioned another girl, so I told them about Steve.” Tim gets quiet for a second. “Mum cried. Dad just…told me to stop upsetting my mother and never brought it up again. Not until Grandfather started in on me.”

Jon swallows. “You’ve a great deal more courage than I have. I—I never admitted to my grandmother that I ever had any interest in boys, let alone dated one.”

“Only one? You’re missing out.” Tim’s grin is a pale echo of his usual one, but it is at least genuine. “How ‘bout you, Martin?”

“A few.” Martin relaxes with a visible effort that makes Jon’s heart ache. “Been out since I was fourteen. Mum reacted…about as well as she reacted any other time I told her something she didn’t like or did something she wasn’t expecting. I never brought anyone home to meet her or…really talked to her about my dating, and she only ever brought it up in relation to herself. Like saying it was a good thing there wasn’t any risk of me passing on any of my numerous undesirable traits to a helpless child.”

“I don’t think your mum understands what ‘bisexual’ means,” Tim points out.

“Probably not, but it doesn’t matter. I’m gay.” Martin grimaces. “I’m also ace, so no risk there anyway, but…”

Jon wants to say any child would be fortunate to count you as a father or I can’t think of a single undesirable trait about you, but what actually comes out is, “Ace?”

“Uh, asexual. It’s—I don’t…get attracted like that. Romance, sure, aesthetic stuff and all that, but not…” Martin gestures vaguely. “Tried it anyway, for a couple of guys I was with, but i-it didn’t go well.”

Jon’s world view shifts abruptly on its axis. Tim, though, looks suddenly worried. “Are you okay? They didn’t—”

“No, no,” Martin says quickly. “It wasn’t—I just don’t like it. That’s all.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Never bothered telling Mum that part. She wouldn’t…I’ve done enough damage.”

Tim pulls Martin into a quick one-armed hug, and Jon reaches across the table to squeeze his hand as gently as he can, but they change the subject after that.

They end up sitting up for a while in their new living room, relaxing. Tim props his feet up in the recliner and works on a crossword; Jon curls up at one end of the sofa with a book he’s been meaning to read for years that Jon Prime assures him he’ll love; Martin sits at the other end and knits. It about bowled Jon over completely when he learned that Martin made most of the sweaters he wears, but the sight and sound of him working away has become increasingly familiar in the last few weeks, especially after the Primes and the rest of the crew collaborated to get him an array of needles and knitting wool in all colors of the rainbow for his birthday. Jon usually finds the gentle clicking of the needles soothing, but tonight it’s just a hair distracting, and he keeps glancing up from the page to watch Martin’s fingers as they expertly manipulate the yarn or Tim tap the eraser of his pencil thoughtfully against his jaw while he contemplates an answer. He’s not even quite sure what he’s looking at.

Finally, Tim lays down his puzzle with a sigh. “I think I’m gonna turn in,” he says, sounding oddly reluctant. “Long day and all that.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna—” Martin works a couple more stitches and folds up his project. “Probably a good stopping place for tonight.”

Jon considers saying he’s going to stay in the living room and finish the chapter he’s on, but if he’s being completely honest, he’s been on the same page for however long it’s been and hasn’t taken in a single word. Silently, he slides the scrap of paper he’s currently using as a bookmark back between the pages and closes the book. “Well. Good night, then.”

“’Night, Jon.”

The bedrooms are all upstairs, two on one side and one on the other with the bathroom handy, and the three of them wish each other goodnight again before disappearing into their rooms. Jon closes the door and looks around the room, his room.

There’s not much to it, to be honest. A nightstand, a dresser, a battered desk he’s had since he was a child, a lamp and the bed. He sets the book on top of the desk and changes into his comfortable sleep clothes, then crawls into the bed and pulls the covers up over his shoulders.

It’s…odd. No, not odd. Jon can’t quite think of the right word for it. But the sheets feel unfamiliar against his skin, and they don’t smell right, either, probably because they’re new. The mattress that felt perfectly comfortable when he tested it out in the store doesn’t seem to afford the same comfort now, and he wonders if the floor model has simply had much of the stiffness tested out of it over time. Even the pillows, which he did retain from his old bedroom setup, seem determined to thwart his attempts to find a comfortable position.

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, arm draped over his midsection. He won’t fall asleep like this, he’s always been a side-sleeper, but his mind is a seething roil of emotions and he needs to get his thoughts under control before he can even have a hope of getting comfortable enough to sleep, he guesses.

Asexual. Jon probes at the word, at what it describes. I don’t get attracted like that. I just don’t like it. Honestly, until meeting Georgie, Jon had no idea that sort of attraction really existed; he thought it was just something out of the lurid romance novels his grandmother favored and he’d read once or twice in sheer desperation. It was something she’d wanted, though, so he’d tried a few times, but his efforts hadn’t satisfied her and he never really saw what all the fuss was about. He can take it or leave it, preferably the latter.

He never knew there was a word for it.

Suddenly, he wants to talk to Martin about it, about how he realized, how he knew. Where he found the word. If there are many more like—well, like them, he supposes. If that’s one of the reasons he was reluctant to tell Jon how he felt. He wants to ask about Martin’s experiences, if they were bad just because his body didn’t want them or for some other reason. A part of him also wants to cry from sheer relief. He isn’t broken. There’s nothing wrong with him. Well, not in that respect, anyway.

He sighs heavily and rolls onto his side again, plumping the pillows and curling one arm around them. They’re too flat, he thinks idly, too soft and yielding. Which is odd, because that’s never bothered him before. He can’t seem to get warm, either, which is also bizarre because it’s been an unusually mild day for late September and he’s under the duvet he’s had for years, which suddenly seems too light and insubstantial. The room is too quiet and still. It all feels…wrong, somehow.

Jon closes his eyes and stubbornly tries to force sleep, to no avail. The sense of wrongness pervades his being, curling through him and keeping him tethered to consciousness. He runs through the list of problems he seems to be having and tries to come up with which one might be keeping him awake. The only thing he can think of is the unfamiliar mattress. Everything else is exactly the way it was in his old flat.

And when was the last time you slept there? The thought hits him all of a sudden, and his eyes snap open. He forgot. The last time he slept in his apartment was the night before Jane Prentiss attacked the Institute. Ever since then, he’s been sleeping in Tim’s living room…or in Tim’s bed. With the others.

That’s all it is. He isn’t used to the silence of being alone. He’s not used to not knowing, right away, exactly where Tim and Martin are and if they’re safe. He’ll just go and check on them, see that they’re safe, and he’ll be able to get to sleep just fine.

He throws back the covers, slides his glasses back on, and heads into the hallway. Jon somehow ended up in the room by the bathroom, while Tim and Martin are on the other side of the hallway. Martin’s room is first, though, so Jon heads there. He’s as careful as he can be. Martin is probably asleep by now. He definitely seemed tired while they were still in the living room, and Jon wonders if he lingered because the other two were still sitting down there. It makes him feel slightly guilty, like he should have called it a night earlier so Martin can get some sleep. And after all, they did have a very emotionally draining conversation, which probably exhausted him as well. All that runs through Jon’s mind as he slowly, slowly eases the door open and peers around it to see into Martin’s room.

It’s sparsely furnished; nothing but a bed and one of those flimsy pop-up cloth jobs bisected into cubes, which is serving as his dresser. Martin’s laptop and phone sit on the floor, both connected to their chargers. The bed is mussed slightly and shows signs of having been occupied, but Jon’s heart rate accelerates when he looks at it. It’s empty.

There’s no sign of a struggle, he tells himself, and he heard nothing, so surely everything is fine. Martin’s probably just in the bathroom, or downstairs getting a glass of water or something. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Jon will just…go check on Tim and Tim will be fine and then he’ll go find Martin and make sure he’s fine and it…will…be…fine. He pulls the door closed and turns to Tim’s room.

The door is slightly ajar, and there’s a faint glow coming from the room. Jon hesitates, then taps lightly on the door three times before easing it open. Tim is sitting up on the bed, cross-legged and leaning forward slightly. And—Jon’s shoulders slump in relief—Martin is there, too, on the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off the side and the other tucked underneath him. They’re talking quietly, but both obviously exhausted. They look up at the sound of the door opening and watch Jon stand in the doorway. He opens his mouth, then realizes he doesn’t know what to say and closes it again.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Martin asks gently. The circles under his eyes are almost black.

“No,” Jon admits. “I—I just wanted to—” He breaks off, still not sure what to say.

Wordlessly, Tim holds out a hand. Jon lets the bedroom door shut behind him as he comes forward and takes it. Martin wraps an arm around him from behind, and the two of them pull Jon onto the bed and into a lying-down position. Tim rolls over and snaps off the lamp by his bed, then pulls the covers up over all three of them. Jon manages to reach down and snag the middle to help.

“Better,” Tim murmurs.

It’s not a question, but Jon hums in agreement anyway. Trying for levity, he says, “Shame to waste money on new beds, though.”

“We’ll be able to sleep there eventually,” Martin says. Jon only realizes how much stress was in his voice when it’s drastically lessened. “At some point we’ll probably want the space. But for now, there’s this.”

“For now, there’s this,” Jon agrees. He tilts his head back briefly to rest it against Martin’s shoulder, and Martin scoots in closer.

Tim does, too, the two of them sandwiching Jon securely between them. “Get some sleep,” he says. “It’ll be all right tomorrow.”

Jon yawns and closes his eyes, and it doesn’t really surprise him when he falls asleep straightaway. The nightmares are as present as ever, but in the morning, he can almost fool himself into believing they weren’t so bad.

Almost.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #referenced homophobia cw #internalized aphobia cw #panic attacks cw #please click that link and listen to the song #it'll make that bit so much better

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harrystyleswatermelon-sugar · 4 years

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Gas station encounter - Part IV

Part III

The next day I wait for him standing behind my window. When he pulls up outside I smile because he is too early. His black car is standing in the same spot than the day before, when he brought me home.

I see him getting out of the car and shooting a glance up to my flat, then onto his phone. He leans his back on his car and puts his hands in his pockets. He wears a black hat and a black coat with some brown Chelsea boots and dark pants.

When I close my door behind me I feel my phone vibrating and look at it. Harry sent me a text and I start going down. He smiles when I open the door and step outside.

“Hey there, how are you?” he asks and hugs me.

“Great, how are you? Ready to grab some coffee?” he nods and kisses my cheek.

“Sure, let´s go. I thought I would show you my favourite café. Believe me, they have the most amazing things” he promises and opens the car door for me.

The way to his café is not very long and when he finally found a parking spot a few streets away he looks at me.

“I apologize in advance. It is very likely that I am recognised and because you are an attractive woman it probably will be in the media tomorrow. Be prepared” he warns me and I shake my head.

“No worries, I can handle it I think” I assure him and he gets out of the car. I shut the door behind me and we walk next to each other in comfortable silence. He seems a bit tense but when nothing happens and no one tries to stop him, he relaxes a bit.

“So tell me, what happened to Anna? She told me yesterday, that she is feeling so much better and she might be able to go home? I thought she was on the edge of dying when I visited her the first time” he asks while he leads me towards the little café.

“There are moments when those miracles happen and I try to not question them too much. Her bloodwork is great, she doesn’t need more chemo and she feels better. Her vitals are really great. This might be a miracle but to be honest, we should appreciate it as long as it is possible” I explain and walk through the open door into the café. We find a table in the corner and he pulls my chair, so I can sit.

“So you think she might get sick again?”

“It is possible. At this point, no one can say yes or no. I will do my best to let her go in a few days and give her some time at home with her friends and family. But I try to not let it get too close to me” I reply and he nods while he hands me the menu.

“I hope the best for her. Maybe you can keep me updated” he asks me and I agree to nod. I decide to get a normal coffee and a blueberry scone.

When our order arrives we dig into the food and I immediately know why it is his favourite café. The food is excellent and even the coffee seems to be better than other coffees.

“This is really good,” I say and he smiles at me. He got a cinnamon roll and seems to enjoy it as well.

“I´m glad you like it. Their cinnamon roll is the best I ever ate” he declares and I giggle.

“That’s a huge compliment from someone who has probably eaten in the whole world”

“You want to taste it? Then you will see that it is the best” he holds his fork with a piece of that roll into my direction and I nod, eating from Harry Styles´ fork and I close my eyes in awe. This is the best cinnamon roll I ever ate.

I nod and he smiles delighted that I agree.

“It´s great. Wow. Thanks for showing me this place, I´m sure I will come back some time” I assure him and he takes a sip from his coffee.

“I don’t share those special places with anybody but I think you deserve the best. I appreciate the work you are doing so much, I am so impressed how you handle all this and I can´t believe anyone takes this for granted. You and your team should get an award, you are the real heroes” he says and I try not to choke on my scone. I am very much touched by his words and I honestly don’t know where to look.

“Thank you, I think it is normal to us because we love what we do. We don’t need an award…a simple thank you and some smiles on those kids faces, that’s why I do this” I reply and take my cup in my hands.

“But you sacrifice so much, please don’t get me wrong…but someone who tries to make others happy should be happy themself. What would make you happy? Maybe I can give something back” he asks and I shake my head.

“No, no it´s fine. I am happy, I really am” he looks at me and licks his lips, to get all the cinnamon and sugar.

“I have some time off, so if you would like…I could come and play and sing with the kids. It would be a pleasure and I absolutely don’t mind it” he proposes and I truly don’t know what to say. It’s a very kind offer from a very busy man like him.

“If you want to, sure. I am happy when the kids are happy” I agree and he bites his lip, what I find very sexy.

“Great, I will contact you if you don’t mind”

“I don’t. Soooo…it´s already 3 pm and we still need to get my car. How long do you want to spend time with me?” I ask him and look at my phone.

“If you want to leave, we can go immediately…shit I think I got spotted” he whispers and I am clever enough to not turn around as he tries to hide behind me.

“Are you Harry Styles? You are, right? Do you mind, if we take a picture with you?” a young girl asks next to our table and eyes me sceptical. Harry smiles friendly and gets up to chat with them and take a picture. After they left he pays for our order and is eager to leave the place. Maybe he knows that when he was spotted once, there will be more fans in no time. I hurry after him and as we are a few streets away he gets a bit slower.

“Sorry for leaving so abruptly but I know how fast they are. By now we would have been swarmed and I don’t want that right now…we can get your car or take a walk in the park if you like” he suggests and I nod. Sounds great.

“A walk seems to be nice, we have a lot of time left, so no hurry with getting my car” we walk next to each other, chatting about anything that comes to mind. He tells me about his family and friends back in Manchester and I listen very interested. His mom sounds lovely from his stories and at this point, I am just happy that I met him at the gas station.

“It is lovely spending time with you, Y/N,” he says and smiles at me.

“Likewise, I never thought I would spend time with you after our first meeting. But I´m glad we do, you are easy to be around and I kind of like you” I confess and giggle a bit.

“I appreciate it very much, that you are accepting me in your life and I have the feeling you don’t mind me having in it? Or am I completely wrong and this is just your average kind of being nice?” he asks a bit concerned and unsure.

“I don’t mind having you in my life, not at all. And no, you are not wrong” I can see his happy smile and follow him at his side across the park.

A few weeks later during my shift, I can see Harry sitting amidst a lot of kids with his guitar and singing with them. They love having him around and he loves entertaining them. Anna was able to go home and I promised to come visit her soon. The last days have been really exhausting, we have a few very critical patients and I had to tell their parents that it´s only a matter of weeks.

Harry comes here as often as he can and I am very thankful that he spends his rare time with all of my children. We usually don’t spend much time together but when I have the opportunity I stop and listen to him telling stories or singing to them. When he notices me, he smiles at me and I return it gladly. I know that he won´t come here forever, he has a job and soon he will be gone because of promotion and recordings and tour. But he never mentioned it, when he walks me to my car after my shift.

A soft knock on my door jerks me out of my thoughts and I look up, seeing Harry in the doorway.

“Hey, can I come in or is it bad timing?” he asks politely but I don’t mind it at all.

“No, it´s fine. Come in, you alright?” I reply and watch him, as he sits down in front of my desk.

“Yes, I love being here seeing the kids smile but I noticed something…” he says concerned and I sit up straight.

“What? Is something wrong with one of the kids?” I start to panic, that I haven’t noticed. I get up and walk around the desk to get to the door, but Harry holds me back by grabbing my wrist.

“They are alright but are you too? You hardly smile and you look tired and exhausted, can I do something for you?” he asks and I meet his soft green eyes. I relax a little and lean against my desk his hand still wrapped around my wrist.

“I´m alright. Just a bit tired but nothing I haven’t handled before plus I have a free weekend ahead of me. The first one in three months” I answer and see him smiling.

“Free weekend, huh? How about…I try and make it the most relaxed weekend in your life? I just want you to feel good and we haven’t spent much time in the last weeks” he requests and I raise an eyebrow at him.

“And what are you picturing?”

“Hmm maybe me cooking some dinner for you, watching a movie, getting a massage and not worrying about anything. How does that sound?” his eyes are shimmering with hope and I chuckle. It sounds great but what if it gets really awkward? I have never been to his house or the other way round. We usually just hang out in a café or here, this is kind of a next step.

“I´d love to do that but…I don’t want it to be awkward honestly” I say and he entwines our fingers.

“It won´t, I promise” his voice is low and deep and touches me like velvet.

“Okay” I agree and he squeezes my hand lightly.

“Great, I´ll pick you up after your shift?” he sounds really excited and I grin at him while I nod in agreement.

Part V

Hey guys,

sorry for the delay and lack of posting. I hope you are still here and enjoy my newest chapter. Please send all your love or hate, I´ll take it.

You can still be added to the taglist for this story, if you want. Don´t be shy.

Love, Julia xx

Taglist:

@wotamelonsugar @lanallaa @highladyofelfhame-remastered @lucky-worm @theresthingsthatwellneverknow

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles smut #Harry Styles Imagine #Harry Styles FF #Harry Styles blurb #Harry Styles Oneshot #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles fluff #1d #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction imagine #one direction oneshot #1dff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #332

i’m even more tired than before to try and think up song lyrics, i’m pasting from Word and then fucking off to bed lmao.

What was the last video message you received on your phone? I think it was a clip of Doris (Sara's beardie) eating and just being her perfect self? Was your last birthday cake homemade or store bought? Store-bought. One thing you miss about middle school? Shit, nothing. Middle school was the worst. Do you have any shirts signed by famous people? No. Have you ever entered an art competition? Yes. Would you ever pierce yourself? No. I am very much about having a professional do your body mods/art. Plus, I have tremors in my hands. Do you live in a safe neighbourhood? Supposedly. We haven't lived here nearly long enough to know. What is the last thing you did that shocked someone? /shrug Do you often find yourself questioning your future? Only always. Have you ever been for a ride in the back of a truck? Yeah. Do you like your license photo? I hate my permit picture. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favorite? Not very, but I like 'em enough. I always say my favorite is Deadpool, but I know he's technically an anti-hero, but whatever. If you don't include him, uhhhh... maybe Spiderman. Have you started watching any new TV shows recently? No. Have you ever been able pet a normally wild animal, like a tiger or dolphin? No. :( At least, not to my recollection. Have you ever eaten snow? Yeah. There's actually a winter treat 'round here that you make with snow and sugar called snow cream. Good stuff. What is the messiest area in your home? Right now, the spare room/my wanna-be "office." What’s your favorite computer game genre? Still horror, like video games. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Have you received financial help from your parents in the past 5 years? I'm completely financially dependent on them still. Are you a fast or a slow eater? I eat like, stupid fast, but without being messy. People *cough*Mom*cough* will absolutely point it out, but I seriously can't help it. Making a conscious effort to eat slow feels way too weird. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? I don't know. Is there anyone in your family/household whom you frequently argue with? No. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? Ew, no. Tell me what's on your mind? I've been considering yet again reaching out to some tattoo parlors and asking if they're open to hiring someone to handle the front desk and take care of business besides actually performing piercing and tattooing, given my tremors. My group therapy has kinda been encouraging me to use the possibility for social exposure, and besides, I'm very comfortable in the environment and just general aura of tat parlors. I'm sure I'd have to answer the phone, handle money, and obviously talk to costumers, but I know and accept that. I've been at such a stagnant point with my social anxiety in particular that I have to start pushing back harder, and doing this I feel would be one of the most relaxed, social job positions I can hopefully handle. I don't dare to even try this though until I get vaccinated to protect my immunocompromised mom. Writing this all out has actually been pretty encouraging about this idea... Do you wish you never dated someone you dated? Yeah, Tyler. It was such a "I'm lonely and he was nice in high school, so we'll try it" situation. I got nothing from it. Are you scared of growing old alone? Pretty badly. What are you listening to right now? I'm listening to/semi-watching John Wolfe play the remaster of Resident Evil 2. What breed was the last dog you saw? He was a German shepherd. Would you ever go swimming during a thunderstorm? No. Any time a thunderstorm was brewing and I was in the pool, I'd always get out. What is the next concert you will attend? Mom and I plan to see Ozzy when/if he reschedules his tour after he had to cancel with his Parkinson's diagnosis. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :/ What's the highest science class you have taken? I don't know, actually. What makes you squeal like a school girl? No shame, seeing Mark and Amy do something cute together actually does this, lmao. What’s your favorite symbol? (i.e. the pentagram, the cross, etc.) Do fictional ones count? Because in that case, the Halo of the Sun from the Silent Hill franchise. I'm getting it tattooed somewhere at some point, I'm thinking the left side of my neck. I'm either gonna fashion it in a way where it looks branded on or carved into me. Have you ever been on anti depressants? For all of my pre-teen, teen, and some of my adult life. Apparently, I've only had one truly educated psychiatrist out of no less than a dozen I'd seen, because he fixed me right up. He taught me that those who suffer from bipolarity should avoid anti-depressants; they ramp up your bipolar symptoms. Instead, mood stabilizers are favorable. And what do you know, after I was prescribed a stabilizer and a catalyst for that medication, my depression decreased dramatically and became handleable. Have you ever starved yourself? Kinda. What’s the stupidest name you’ve ever given a pet? I had a guinea pig named Harry Potter. For no particular reason lmao. I'm not even a Harry Potter fan. Do you have nice legs? God no. Do you like fedoras? Okay so I know I am in the strong minority, but I actually do, haha. What is your favorite food group? Carbs. @_@ Have you ever got told that you should be a model? No, but one of the most flattering indirect compliments I've ever gotten was being mistaken for one. Jason's phone wallpaper was one of my favorite pictures of myself with my first snake, and someone asked him if I was a model. ;v;' What song is in a language you don’t speak, but you love it anyway? "Donaukinder" by Rammstein is one of my faves. Who’s a villain you sympathize with and why? SOBS Darkiplier bc his origins are so damn tragic and unfair. What book do you think should be directed as a film? Was The Giver ever made into one? I don't remember that book well, but I do recall it being absolutely beautiful. Have you ever found a stranger’s note somewhere? If so, what did it say? No. Have you ever edited Wikipedia? No. Have you ever edited any other wiki? Yeah. I have thousands on the Silent Hill wiki, where I'm one of the admins. I'm also a content moderator at the Team Ico (Shadow of the Colossus devs) one. Every now and again I used to go on the meerkats wiki as well, where I mainly fixed the fucking nightmarish grammar. Very briefly, I edited at the Dragons of Atlantis wiki as well. Do you get scared when you know some virus or sickness is being passed? Not very, but of course I still acknowledge the risk and am more conscious of hand washing and stuff. What popular social media platforms AREN’T you on? Snapchat, I don't actually use my Twitter, I don't have a personal Instagram... There may be more, idk. Is TikTok a "social media platform?" Because I don't have that, either. What was the name of the first porcelien doll you got? Never had one, given I was afraid of dolls as a kid. What’s your favorite Paramore song? "Decode." Would you be happy with a life without romance? To be entirely honest, I'd feel like I was missing something. Was your childhood happy? Mostly. What fundamentally matters do you? Love, kindness, peace, all that gooey stuff. Is true world peace ever possible? As much as I hate to admit it, I don't think so. The human population is far too big to come to a unanimous agreement on anything. Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? Yeah. Would you ever own a pet black widow spider? No. I'm getting more into the idea of owning invertebrates (I jabber enough about wanting tarantulas, and there are others, like mantises, I'm interested in as pets), but black widows, I'm not into the idea of having. Too venomous for me to be comfortable risking. If you have a job, what is the longest shift that you've worked? N/A Do you know all of the words to "Bohemian Rhapsody?" FUCK YES I DO. ^ Do you sing it with all of the different voices? sho nuff Do you own more than one copy of a certain book? No. Do you like interpreting poetry or just reading it for fun? Both. I love symbolism, so I get joy out of digging for subtle meanings in poems. Do you have a favorite Dr. Suess book? Yeah, it was always Green Eggs and Ham. Do you watch The Walking Dead? If so, favorite character? Not the show, but I've watched let's plays of the games, haha. In which case Clementine is inarguably one of the best female characters in a video game universe. Who has/had the most mature romantic relationship you’ve seen with your own eyes? Uhhh. I mean I never saw them much, but probably my late grandmother and her last husband. He was fucking incredible to her, and Grammy adored him as well. They helped each other so much and just obviously had the purest love between them. When was the last time you got something for free (legally)? What was it & have you enjoyed it so far? Lmao do balls in Pokemon GO count? Their occasional free boxes are the reason I can play the game because PokeStops are essentially non-existent here, so yes. What is the one fruit you can’t stand to eat? How about vegetable? The first one that came to me were oranges. I enjoy orange juice, but I just caaaaannot with the white veiny shit that you can't totally get off when peeling it. Without that, I might actually enjoy them, but idk. As for vegetable, asparagus is absolutely abhorrent. When’s the last time you actually recited the pledge? If you aren’t American, do/did you have anything similar in your country that you do during a time at school? Probably not since high school. Last person you shared food with? Ummm I have no idea. It's really just Mom and me here and we eat our own stuff. What was the last song you heard for the first time and enjoyed? I believe it waaas... "Down In The Park" by Marilyn Manson, maybe. If your life was a TV show, what would be the theme song? My inner high school emo just screamed "All Signs Point to Lauderdale" by AD2R. Who are some of your favorite female fictional characters, and why? Gahdamn, there's a lot. I don't feel like going through a mental list in my head and then describing why. A character (in anything) you wish hadn’t been killed off? Vol'jin; I think the entire WoW fanbase will forever be pissed about it. It was THE most "lul we dunno what 2 do w/ him anymore, let's let a totally random, unnamed, unimportant demon kill him" like what the fuck, Blizz. Most of his "oomph" was in the book, and I just really wish they'd done so much more with him in the game. Has anything “cute” happened in the past week? Off the top of me noggin, no. When did you last say “I love you”? Did you mean it? Yesterday to Sara. OF course I did. Is there someone who pops into your mind at random times? Hi, PTSD, how are ya. Have you ever slept all day? Essentially. When I was on a larger dose of my anxiety med, I physically couldn't stay up for barely even five minutes, and when I'd lie back down, boom, I was OUT. I stayed on that dosage for I think just that one day, it was so bad. Can you have kids? Well, I have a functioning menstrual cycle, so I would assume so. Doesn't mean I will, though. What colors of mascara have you worn on your lashes? Only black. Do you like eating sour things? Hell yeah, I love sour stuff, candy in particular. Do you like pickles? fuuuuck yeah Did you ever have a really close friend move away? Yeah, in elementary school. I feel bad I can't remember her name at the moment... What's the most creative thing you've ever done? I mean, I guess the things I've written in RP. What's the most creative thing someone has done for you? For me? I don't really know. Do you like to watch ghost-hunting shows? Sure, they're some of my favorites. What’s something you’d like to be better at? Social interaction. Have you ever stayed up to talk to someone who was sad? Yeah. Do you think you would make a good parent? No. I know I wouldn't. The only time I ever wanted kids was with Jason, and honestly, I really hope I don't end up with a man because I never want to deal with that urge again and make a mistake. I'm just in no way emotionally fit to be a mother. How many best friends do you have? Just one. What do you cry over the most? My PTSD, honestly. I never sob about it anymore, just shed some tears. What language did/do you take in high school? Latin for one semester, then all four available for German. Which sports do you follow? None. Who was the last person you talked about marriage or having kids with? About marriage, Sara. Kids, the subject was lightly touched upon with Girt, though "with" was never a part of it, but obviously implied seeing as we were dating with long-term in mind. Have you ever been in a house fire? No, thankfully. Have you ever made out for one straight hour? them is rookie numbers Are you any good at remembering phone numbers? No. I literally don't even know my own, nor my mother's. I need to fix that. Who is your best friend of the opposite sex? Girt. Do you have a bookshelf? If so, just one or how many? No. If I gave you twenty bucks what would you do with it? Save it to go towards Venus' terrarium. Is there a movie from your childhood that you still watch today? Well of course! I'm unashamed to watch any "kids" movie I enjoy, like Disney ones. Most "kids" movies tend to be better than those intended for adults, it seems... Are you afraid of mice? Oh no, I adore mice and I think had a pair as pets before I got rats. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I can't really answer this; I haven't gone on nearly enough vacations to develop a theme. I can say confidently though it'd probably be something small. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't enjoy musicals. Have you ever watched Doctor Who? One or two with Sara, yes. I know we at least watched the weeping angels episode. If you read, which book or series did you enjoy most as a child? Warriors by S.E. Hinton. Sometimes I wanna get back into them, but I am YEARS behind and more into Wings of Fire anyway, so. I don't read nearly enough for both. How do you get rid of your hiccups? Literally no trick seems to work for me. I just suffer lmao.

#survey #surveys #questions

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hanawrites404 · 4 years

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You Can't Hurry Love

Show : Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Jojo No Kimou Na Bouken

Pairing : Hints of Jotaro Kujo/Noriaki Kakyoin, Joseph Joestar/Caesar Antonio Zeppeli and Jonita Joestar Brando/Dio Brando

Warnings : Mild Homophobia and swearing

Characters : Jonita Joestar Brando (OC), Holly Kujo, Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki Kakyoin, Joseph Joestar, Mrs. Kakyoin (Noriaki's Mother)

Timeline : Pre-Stardust Crusaders

This story is based on this song :

And this story is also based on the author's dream when she was sleeping in the afternoon after studying physics.

Also, here is a link if you don't know who Jonita is

Third Person POV

It was morning in Japan, winter was about to end and trees were slowly recovering after shedding their withered leaves by growing lush green ones in their place. Innocent birds awakened by the first rays of the sun started chirping their favourite song, the fellow humans waking up to their melodious vocals. Well, except for one.

"Jonita-san~!! Wake up, it's eight already!!" the lady of the Kujo's residence yelled from the kitchen. The lady had her favourite apron on and was making breakfast, her golden hair tied in a loose bun and her hands working skillfully as she prepared the morning delicacies.

The one who was known as Jonita, though sleeping in the room two doors away from the kitchen, heard the lady clearly, but all she replied to it was a groan and a snort, and she let her head down abruptly onto the pillow and fell asleep once again.

"Jonita san~~!!" The blonde lady called her once more, but still the sleepy-head gave no response. The lady then sighed and shook her head. Though it had been 3 days Jonita came to stay in Japan, she still wasn't used to her sleeping schedule.

The lady had already given up on waking the stubborn girl up, until a young boy ran with his sock-clad, little feet into the girl's room. He giggled, and sat beside her head, and started to ruffle the sleepy girl's violet locks with his little hands, which finally made the girl slowly open one of her eye and smile at the boy.

"Good morning Jotaro" she said sleepily. "Morning Jojo!!" the boy named Jotaro giggled once more. Jonita grinned and got up from the futon, fully awaken, and sat cross-legged. She then lifted Jotaro up and made him sit on her thigh.

"Did you sleep well, Joot??" she asked the child as she caressed his soft raven locks. "Yeah I did, and I dreamt of the ocean" Jotaro replied with a certain pride in his tone.

"Again?? You really seem to love the ocean, huh??". Jotaro grinned and nodded vigorously. Jonita giggled and ruffled his hair.

"What about you Jojo?? What did you dream of??". "I dreamt of my children. All of them were playing in the garden while me and my husband were having a picnic under a huge tree as we watched our children having a good time. I wish it comes true one day" Jonita ruminated.

"Hmmm......Well, thinking of dreams is making me feel hungry. I bet Mama has made something good today". "Boy, she always does. Holly's cooking is worth dying for".

Jotaro then got off Jonita's thigh and quickly ran towards the kitchen to get the bulletins of today's breakfast menu. Jonita then stood up and folded her futon, remembering how Holly taught her to do so. She then stretched herself and started to get ready for today.

After she had changed from her pyjamas to purple track pants and red full-sleeve cropped hoodie and combed her hair nicely to let it down, she then made her way to the dining room.

"So you are finally awake, Jonita-san" Holly commented. "Yeah, sorry. I had a really good dream and I didn't want to wake up" the purplenette rubbed her neck.

"Was it about your husband again??" Holly asked. "Yeah. I just miss him so much. It has been years since I have seen him" she said as she sat down to have her food.

"Hmmm....I wonder when I will fall in love madly with someone as you have" Jotaro told her as he settled his head on his palms.

Jonita choked on her own saliva as soon as she heard Jotaro say that. She then clears her throat and replies.

"D-Don't you think you are too young to fall in love with someone, Joot??". "B-But I'm 7 years old!! Is that not enough??" Jotaro asked.

"I-I guess but, for falling in love with someone, you will need time. Love is when two people like each other so much that are ready to sacrifice themselves just for the well-being of their lover. In order to love a person, you need someone to whom you feel a certain attraction".

"Certain att-rec-sion??" Jotaro tried to pronounce the word. "Yeah". "But where will I find such a person??". "You will have to wait, Jotaro. You cannot hurry love, always remember that".

"Alright everyone, eat quickly before it gets cold" Holly clapped her hands. Jotaro and Jonita said their prayers in Japanese (Jonita had to learn it otherwise Holly never left her alone) and then started to eat their breakfast.

"Jonita-san, you do remember that you have to take Jotaro out today, right??" Holly asked. Jonita stopped chewing her omelette and looked at the blonde lady hovering over her. She then grinned stupidly at her, the omelette still inside her mouth.

Holly sighed and crossed her hands.

"You forgot, didn't you??".

Jonita swallowed the food she had in her mouth and said "Forgot?? No No, I was just......caught off-guard, that's all" she argued, but Holly didn't take that.

"Listen Jonita-san, Jotaro is at a growing age, and if he doesn't get any exercise, I'm afraid he might become very weak when he grows up, and you are the best person who can get him into some good physical activities" Holly said worriedly.

"Don't worry Holly, Jotaro is of the Joestar bloodline. There is no way he would ever grow up as weak. Even if he doesn't workout, he would still grow up to be as buff as a bull" Jonita caressed Jotaro's raven hair as she smiled at Holly.

Holly sighed once more and looked at Jonita with pleading eyes and a frown. This made Jonita drop her stupid grin, and soon she admitted defeatedly while letting out a big puff of air from her mouth.

"Fine. Exercise, right?? I will make him do it".

By hearing that, Holly got to her usual cheery self as clapped her hands once more. "Okey-Dokey!!" and then she twirled into the kitchen while humming a tune.

Jonita giggled as she ate the last piece of her breakfast. Jotaro too had finished his food and Jonita collected both of their dishes to keep it in the sink.

"Listen Joot, I'm giving you 10 minutes. Get into your best attire as we are going out to practice" Jonita spoke as if she was taking Jotaro out for a war.

"Yes ma'am!!" the boy saluted the purplenette and ran to his room. Jonita smiled to herself. She was sure that Jotaro would grow up to be a very cheerful and bubbly person, just like his mother.

A few minutes later, Jotaro arrived with a white full-sleeve shirt and black short suspenders on. However, Jonita bursted into a fit of laughs as soon as she saw the young boy.

The reason was because Jotaro had worn the shirt inside-out and over the suspenders. Also, his black hair was in a tangled mess as compared to before.

Jonita then kneeled in front of him and started to correct his attire, starting from removing his shirt.

"You should have called me to dress you Joot" Jonita told him. "But I wanted to show you that I'm not a little boy anymore and that I can dress myself" Jotaro pouted.

Jonita chuckled as she finished correcting his outfit. "You are 7 Jotaro, Not 17".

She then ran her palm against Jotaro's head to smoothen his short hair. However, there were some curly ends which were impossible to straighten so she let them be.

"There you go. All set" she then stood up. "Ready to go, big boy??". "You bet I am". She then grinned and then both of them got into their shoes.

"We will return soon Holly!!" she shouted. Holly came to the door with high speed and hugged Jonita hard which made her tumble a little. "S-Stop...I can't breathe" Jonita giggled. Holly then lets her go as she smiled at her.

Holly then gave Jotaro his goodbye kiss. "Mom, I'm too big for goodbye kisses now" Jotaro pouted. "But you will always stay small for Mama, Jotaro" Holly replied. Jotaro blushed and looked at the ground.

Jonita then chuckled and exited the house, Jotaro following her. Both of them waved to Holly and she waved them back. "Come back soon!!" she said, and then she went inside, picking up another tune.

*30 minute time skip, brought to you by Everything is a Cake*

"OK, that's it for today" Jonita informed. Jotaro fell on the ground with a thud as he finally dropped his plank position and let out a puff of air from relief.

"You did a great job Joot. Don't you feel good??" Jonita asked the tired boy with satisfaction in her tune.

"No" the boy replied breathlessly.

"No?? What do you mean 'no'??" her smile dropped. "I'm really tired Jojo" The boy told her.

"Already?? Your grandfather was more active than you when he was 7 years old!!" she stated.

"And second of all, all you have done today is 15 situps, 30 pushups and 2 minute plank hold. Joseph on the other hand used to do twice as much as you have!!".

"Why do you always compare me with Grandpa??" Jotaro gained some strength to sit cross-legged and rubbed off the mud on his cheek.

"Because I want to make you stronger than him, Joot". Jonita then lifted Jotaro up on his feet. She then dusted him off and cupped his cheeks.

"Jotaro, you are the successor of the Joestar bloodline, so you need to be strong. Your mother has the right to be worried about your health as many obstacles will come in your way and you have to be strong to battle them all. Understand??"

"Hmm" Jotaro nodded. Jonita then smiled and kissed Jotaro's forehead. She then stood up and asked the young boy.

"Since I'm happy with your progress, how about we go and get some ice-cream??". Jotaro's mood turned brighter and nodded vigorously with a big grin. Jonita chuckled and then lifted him up, keeping his head on her shoulder while supporting his bottom with her hand.

"To the ice-cream shop then!!!". "Hai!!!!" and then they both sprinted towards the nearest shop.

*Two minute time skip, brought to you by Wide Putin*

"Are you really saying the truth Jojo??". "Yeah. Your grandfather once dressed as a woman in order to sneak in the military base". "Did it work??". "Ehh, almost. But it looked pretty obvious that it was a man dressed up as a woman. I mean, in those days, women with big muscles were not a thing, not to mention the guards were a bunch of perv--AAAH!!!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry Dear. My child didn't mean to hurt you deliberately". A woman with cherry red hair was holding the hand of a boy with the same hair colour. It looked like the boy was the lady's son. The only difference was that the boy had an exceptionally long, wavy bang which was almost as long as his face.

The redhead had kicked Jonita's leg so hard that she almost dropped Jotaro, but instead of being angry at the kid, she was actually impressed that the boy being so young was able to make a grown-up adult stumble.

Setting her thoughts aside, she gave a weak smile to the lady and said "It's alright". The lady too smiled at her and then she continued to walk with her son to the opposite direction.

"Are you OK Jojo??" Jotaro asked the girl. "Yeah I'm fine" she replied. She let Jotaro down and started to rub the area where the boy had kicked her.

"Say, are you OK Joot?? You didn't get hurt, did you??". "N-No, I'm fine" Jotaro looked the ground.

Jonita raised her eyebrow at him. Something was wrong with Jotaro. He didn't usually behave like this........unless he was very flustered.

"Jotaro". "Y-Yes??". "Are you blushing??". "What?? N-No I'm not" Jotaro tried to cover his cheeks with his hands. "So you ARE blushing" Jonita stated. She then scooted closer to Jotaro and asked.

"Tell me, is it because of that boy??". Jotaro's eyes widen as he tried to hide his face from the purplenette.

Jonita then made a smug face and asked "Love at first sight huh??". "S-Stop teasing me Jojo" Jotaro whined. "I'm not teasing you. I'm just saying the facts".

Jotaro them blushed more than before. Jonita tried to hold her laughs but she couldn't, and she began to giggle at Jotaro's cute behaviour.

"Anyways, Joot". "Hmm??". "Wanna know if he likes you back without asking him??".

Jotaro was now full red. He looked at Jonita and asked "I-Is it really possible to know that??". Jonita nodded with a smile. "It's a very old trick but it's very accurate". "S-S-Sure. Let's try it then".

Jonita smirked and then made Jotaro face the direction where the redheads were going. "OK so, you can see the boy walking, right??". "Yeah".

"The thing is now that Joot, if he has fallen for you, he would turn around and look at you" Jonita spoke. "And that's it??" Jotaro looked at her. "Yeah" she replied. "OK" Jotaro shrugged.

"Oh you just believe in me Jotaro, he will definitely turn back at look at you with those innocent eyes". "S-Stop it Jojo". "Sorry".

The redheads didn't show any sign of stopping as the kid walked slowly along his mother.

Turn around.......

Jotaro and Jonita watched each and every step they took, looking for at least a slight clue.

Turn around......................

They had almost reached to the end of the road and still there was no sign. The Joestar and the Kujo still stared at them. They were 100% sure that the boy was going to turn back. And guess what happened...........

Turn around, Dammit!!.............

The little boy finally shifted his body back to look at the two who were staring lasers at him with his big, amethyst eyes, showing curiosity and..........longing. A light blush was visible on his fair cheeks as he gazed at the young ravenhead.

Jonita gasped and fell backwards to the ground, not caring about getting hurt. She then screamed on top of her lungs.

"MY BABY IS IN LOOOOOOOOOOOVE!!!!!!!"

The redhead laughed at the silly lady's reaction and tried to cover his laugh with his mouth. The mother however was taken aback by the immature girl's behaviour as she turned around and cringed.

"What a weird mother. No wonder why she looks so young. She must be a teenager mom" she said to herself.

Jotaro had lost himself in the redhead's violet eyes as he locked his own green ones with the other boy, but soon snapped himself out of it and waved at the redhead with a grin. The young boy's blush grew more as he returned the wave with a small cute smile.

"Come on Noriaki, look forward otherwise you might trip yourself". The boy whose name was Noriaki turned his attention to his mother and followed what she said. After that, they completely vanished from Jojo's eyesight range.

"Y-You were right Jojo. How did you know that it will work??" Jotaro asked with amazement. "I have lived for more than 500 years Jotaro. How can I not know about love??".

Jotaro chuckled and then pushed Jonita up again. She then dusted herself and then spoke. "Let's tell your love story to Holly first after we get some ice-cream". Jotaro nodded and followed Jonita to where they were going next.

*Five minutes time skip, brought to you by Baby Yoda*

"HOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLYYYYYY!!!!!!" Jonita sprinted into the Kujo's residence in search of the blonde lady.

"Jonita-san, is everything OK??" Holly came out of a random room and asked her. As soon the purplenette spotted blonde hair, she lunged at Holly and gave her a death hug while lifting her up.

"J-Jonita-san, what happened??". "Jotaro........he is in love!!!". "What, really???" Holly's eyes brightened up. Jonita nodded, confirming her statement.

Just like Jonita, Holly gasped from happiness and hugged Jonita with a high-pitched squeal, and then they both jumped round and round squealing like high-school girls.

"So who is the lucky girl??" Holly asks. "Well, it's a boy, actually" Jonita replied. Holly's smile dropped a little. "A boy??" she asked. "Yes" she replied. "I-I see" Holly tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"Mama mama, I'm in love!!" Next was Jotaro who ran to his mother and hugged her. Holly hesitantly wrapped her arms around Jotaro as he started babbling about how good-looking his love interest was.

"And he had those pretty purple eyes. They were like the colours of pansies. And his hair was so red. Even the reddest of apples were nothing in front of him. His smile was the best thing of all".

"That's really......nice, Jotaro". By hearing her reply, Jotaro looked at his mother with a little disbelief. She sounded disappointed, he thought.

"I-It's really good to fall in love but, with a boy?? It doesn't seem normal to me". Jotaro let go of her mother as he backed away from her. Was his ears deceiving him?? Did his mother just called him.........adnormal??

"Jotaro I.....I got to talk to Papa. You stay here with Jonita-san. If you are feeling hungry then there is food in the kitchen. I'll be right back" she then went away to the opposite direction without saying anything else.

Jonita just stood where she was in shock. She didn't expect Holly to react like this. She was literally standing there, praying that all she just witnessed was a bad dream and nothing else.

PART 2 :

#jojo oc #jojo original character #jojo's bizarre adventure #jotakak #jotaro x kakyoin #jojo no kimyou na bouken #Spotify #Youtube #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #holly kujo #jojo fanfic #what I wrote

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years

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You’re Still You - Chapter 1

Trapper John McIntyre x Hana Chigusa

Summary: A nurse with a complicated past is plucked from her peaceful life by the draft and dropped into the 4077th. After everything life has put her through already, how will she adjust to this new, shocking setting? Especially with the kinds of characters in this M*A*S*H unit?

Tag List: None so far, let me know if you’d like to be added!

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: So, I’ve decided to post my M*A*S*H fic on here. It’s with my OC, Hana Chigusa, and I hope you’ll enjoy reading her as much as I’m enjoying writing her! Dear Heart (Remastered) is still in the works, though, no worries there!

Warning(s): None :)

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 here we go!!!

Kimpo Airport was dry. The thin air in this part of Korea brought back memories that Hana would rather forget. Which explained her being at the bar now, a mouthful of warm vodka burning her throat, because even the chatter of the other personnel around her and the rumble of vehicles outside couldn’t drown out the reminders the heat and dust brought to the forefront of her brain.

She took another sip of her drink. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easing her bitterness either. Fresh out of nursing school, she had expected to get orders to serve in a hospital in Seoul or Tokyo. Somehow, she ended up being assigned to a MASH unit just miles from the front. They were throwing her right to the wolves.

War didn’t necessarily frighten her. But the Army certainly did. As the bar disappeared behind her eyelids, she vividly recalled her mother’s face when the draft notice came through. The tearful, horrified look. The disappointment in her voice when Hana said she would go.

“How can you join these people?” her mother questioned. “After everything they did to us?”

“Mama, you know I can’t refuse,” Hana returned. “You saw what happened to Shinji.”

“You think I’d forget that?” her mother challenged. “My own son! And now they want to take you too!”

“Even if they let me live, I’d be sent to prison,” Hana shot back, choking on the lump in her throat. “I cannot be locked up again, Mama! I won’t!”

Her mother’s lip trembled and she thrust the summons into Hana’s hand.

“You disgrace yourself serving them,” she spat.

Hana tried to blink away the tears, but they fell anyway. “Mama…”

Her mother turned her back on her, and that was the last they saw of each other.

“Lieutenant - uh - Cheeg - uh - nurse - um -”

A stammering corporal pulled Hana out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes and turned to the side, certain he was looking for her, judging by his frantic glances around and the struggle to pronounce the last name. That usually meant her.

“Chigusa?” she called irritably.

His eyes found hers before looking at the paper and then back at her face. He nodded.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

She took pity on him. He was just a kid, after all. Barely five feet tall with a knit cap topping off his baby face. His round glasses added to his wide-eyed, innocent look.

“That’s me,” she said, sliding out of her chair to stand on her feet. “Nurse Hana Chigusa.”

“But your paper says -”

“Hana’s fine.”

She hardly ever went by Hanako anymore. Hana - which she pronounced like the western name “Hannah” - allowed her to blend in with people outside her own community. That was another fight she had with her mother, more than once, but she couldn’t let herself go there now.

“And what’s your name, corporal?” she asked.

“Radar O’Reilly, ma’am,” he replied, saluting her first with his left hand before quickly correcting it to the right, only to drop the paperwork he carried.

She giggled, picking it up for him.

“At ease, Radar,” she said gently. “And for future reference, remain at ease around me. I’m not regular Army.”

“Oh, good,” he sighed, relaxing.

She handed him the paperwork and he took it gratefully.

“Are you ready to go, ma’am?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll just pay my tab.”

She dropped what was probably too much money on the counter beside her empty glass, but she didn’t care. She was ready to get where she was going. Then, she followed Radar outside where a jeep was waiting. In the passenger seat sat a man wearing a bright orange day dress and a wide brimmed straw hat, secured by pink ribbon around his chin. He had white gloves and white pleather shoes, which also matched his belt. The handbag in his lap was black satin with a pearl button clasp.

Hana blinked, not wanting to stare since it was rude, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He smiled kindly at her and wiggled his fingers.

“Hi there,” he said. “Max Klinger. Nice to meet you.”

“Hana,” she replied, still stunned, her eyes roving over him to make sure she was seeing him right. She stopped at his legs. “What no stockings? And with unshaved legs?”

He chuckled. “It’s my face or my legs, sweetheart, and I can’t cover my face.”

She smirked as he held out a hand. He helped her up into the jeep while Radar put her bags in beside her. Then he climbed behind the wheel.

“Say, Radar, are you old enough to drive?” she teased, and Klinger laughed.

“Oh, yeah,” Radar replied earnestly. “My uncle taught me when I was seven. I’m nineteen now, so I’ve had lots of practice.”

She looked at Klinger for confirmation, but he only shrugged. Then, Radar turned the engine and stepped on the gas, and they were off into the Korean countryside.

The further they got from the airport, the more stranded Hana felt. She was stuck here for an undetermined amount of time. To once again be bossed around by the Army. Only this time, she was a part of it.

“So, lieutenant…” Klinger trailed off, realizing she hadn’t told him her last name.

“Spare me the Army stuff, call me Hana,” she replied.

He smiled at that. “So, Hana, where are you from?”

“Newport Beach,” she told him. “It’s about forty minutes south of Los Angeles.”

“Sounds glamorous,” he returned. “I’m from Toledo, myself.”

“Is that where you learned how to dress?” she asked.

“I never dressed like this back home,” he admitted. “I just need the Army to think I’m crazy enough to get me back there.”

She chuckled. “I see. So, how far is the hospital?”

“Not far at all,” he said. “We’ll be there before you know it!”

Klinger wasn’t lying. Barely an hour had gone by before they were rolling up to the cluster of buildings that made up the hospital and camp. Once again, Hana remembered Heart Mountain, but pushed it down. She was not a prisoner here. Well, not technically. If there was anything to appreciate, it was the lack of barbed wire.

They were met at the jeep by a blonde woman whose sternness betrayed her beauty. Hana climbed out of the jeep - with help from Radar - and then the woman stuck out her hand.

“Lieutenant Chigusa, right?” she asked.

Hana nodded, shaking her hand. “That’s right. Hana is fine, though.”

“Not in the Army it’s not,” the woman returned. “I’m Major Houlihan, head nurse here at the 4077th.”

Hana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Though she supposed it was about time she ran into someone like this. Houlihan ordered Radar and Klinger to drop off Hana’s bags at the nurses’ tent, so they could begin a tour of the facilities. Hana nodded to the corporals to give her permission, before following the major.

“I’ll take you to your quarters last so you can rest once you get there,” she said. “We’ll start with the mess tent.”

The mess tent was typical. The food even more so. Nasty Army stuff any regular person would turn their nose up at. But Hana had eaten worse. Major Houlihan next took her to the hospital and walked her through pre-op, the scrub room, the OR, and post-op, where there were just two patients at the moment.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Major Houlihan warned. “We can have incoming casualties any minute, and you’ll need to be prepared.”

“I understand, Major,” Hana replied.

From the hospital, they moved on to the CO’s office, where Hana said hello again to Radar before meeting Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake. He was a friendly guy, who was definitely not regular Army. He wore a fishing vest with a matching hat loaded with hooks. And he was reclined in his chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn’t even care that Hana didn’t salute him, and he shook her hand warmly. She liked him right away.

They went to the officer’s club next, which was evidently misnamed. A couple enlisted men were coming out just as Houlihan and Hana were going in. Hana couldn’t help but notice the major’s disapproving glare, though the enlisted guys ignored it. The two women had barely crossed the threshold when two men descended upon them. Both were tall, one had a head of thick, dark hair and blue eyes, while the other had curly, sandy hair and hazel eyes. Both had smiles that indicated mischief.

“Hello, there,” said the dark haired one. “I’m Hawkeye. You must be new here.”

“Trapper,” the other said. “Can we get your name, sweetheart? Buy you a drink to welcome you to Korea?”

Hana glanced between them in disbelief. Did they really think themselves impressive in their mismatched Hawaiian shirts and goofy grins?

“Yes, I am new here,” Hana replied coolly. “And I’m not interested.”

“Not Interested, that’s unique,” said Hawkeye. “What is that, Italian?”

Major Houlihan rolled her eyes. “Ignore these two, Lieutenant. They’re two of our surgeons, Captain Pierce and Captain McIntyre. Unfortunately, they’re very talented or they’d be out of the Army for their disgraceful behavior.”

“I’m sure the patients - despite their gratitude at being alive - are as disgusted as you, Major,” Hana replied, voice dripping with bitterness and sarcasm.

Hawkeye and Trapper snickered.

Houlihan rankled at that. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of them!”

“I have no love for the Army, Major, make no mistake,” Hana said seriously. “I’m here because the alternative was prison. Now, are we done with this tour?”

“I’d say so,” Houlihan said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and storming out.

Hana breathed a sigh of relief and, ignoring the giggling surgeons, made a beeline for the bar, hoping to leave Pierce and McIntyre behind her as well. But she wasn’t that lucky. The pair followed her and took seats on either side of her. She bit back a groan. Being “fresh meat” wasn’t her style. And she didn’t care for the attention of men. At least, not here.

“Sure we can’t get you that drink, Not Interested?” Hawkeye pressed. “It’s on the Army.”

She smirked and pointedly ignored him. She could see this guy thrived on attention - good or bad - so giving it to him was the last thing she would do. She looked at the bartender.

“Vodka soda, please,” she said.

He got right to work.

Trapper tapped her on the shoulder and she spared him a glance.

“Don’t you want to make friends here?” he asked. “Could be a long war.”

“Your eyes have been on my chest since I walked in, forgive me if I don’t believe friendship is what’s on your mind,” she returned.

The bartender placed her drink in front of her. In Korean, she thanked him and asked his name. He appeared surprised to be addressed by someone fluent, and happily told her his name was Kwang. She offered a slight bow of her head, he bowed back, and then, beaming, starting polishing glasses.

“You speak the local?” Trapper questioned. “Where’d you learn that?”

“I learned as a child, we had Korean neighbors,” she said.

“That’ll be helpful,” Hawkeye said. “We end up with a lot of Korean casualties here.”

She blinked. “Really?”

He nodded solemnly. It was the first honest expression she’d seen from him.

“A lot of locals end up in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said.

“So do a lot of North Koreans,” Trapper added.

Hana’s eyes widened as she looked at him. “You mean, you treat the enemy?”

He nodded. “Of course. We’re doctors.”

Hana almost smiled. If it weren’t such a gruesome subject, she would have. She looked between these two men whose first impression had so turned her off. What a front they put up. She wondered why they hid their decency. The fact remained that it existed, and she wanted to acknowledge it.

“Hana Chigusa,” she said.

“What?” Trapper asked.

“My name,” she said. “It’s Hana Chigusa.”

He grinned. “Nice to meet you.”

“So, Chigusa,” Hawkeye said. “That’s definitely not Italian.”

She chuckled. “I’m half Japanese.”

They remained at the bar a while, and they got to know her better. She told them about growing up in Newport Beach and her mother’s tea shop there. She told them she went to nursing school at Columbia in New York City, just to experience something new. She told them she was drafted, like them, and came reluctantly to Korea.

“So, is the surgery really intense here?” she wondered.

She was pretty nervous. She only had infrequent practical experience post-nursing school. Though, she had graduated at the top of her class.

Hawkeye shrugged. “It’s meatball surgery mostly.”

“Pretty basic extraction of junk,” Trapper said. “Things get more complicated if a limb’s gotta be removed or something, but we just do whatever we can to keep them alive.”

Hana nodded. It sounded about as brutal as she expected. She hoped she’d be able to endure what she would witness. She wondered if she would end up more like Trapper and Hawkeye, with a façade to cover up the ugliness of it all. Then again, she realized she already had one up. What was one more?

Suddenly, a voice came over the loudspeaker.

“Attention!” it called. “Attention all personnel! Incoming wounded! All personnel report to the OR!”

Hana, Hawkeye, and Trapper all got to their feet. She swallowed. This was the moment to prove herself to her new co-workers. She pushed the nerves away.

“Scared?” Trapper asked.

She looked him in the eye with every ounce of confidence she had.

“Nothing scares me anymore,” she told him.

Her answer perplexed him, but he didn’t have time to analyze it. All three of them jogged out of the bar and across the camp to the hospital.

#m*a*s*h #trapper john mcintyre #m*a*s*h fic #hanako chigusa #you're still you series

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watchathon · 3 years

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12th Day of Christmas

In case you’re finding this post just by browsing the tags I’ve used, this is the Watchathon, a blog where I watch a movie or TV show and then write a review of what I watched.

Right now, I’m doing the 12 Days of Christmas, a 12-day-long Christmas special where each day is a different Christmas movie or special decided by a randomizer.

And today, for the 12th and final Day of Christmas, I’m feeding a much smaller list into the randomizer of my favorite Christmas special (which is severely underrated) or what I believe is the best Christmas special I’ve ever seen (which is technically a movie), while the other one is saved for next year!

Now, you might be thinking, doesn’t this mean I’ll only have two years worth of grand finales to 12 Days of Christmas? ...Well, yes. Yes, it does. *awkward silence*

On the 12th Day of Christmas, the randomizer gave to me~

The best Christmas special (which is to say, movie), The Muppet Christmas Carol! Really, as much as I wanted to give even a microscopic spotlight to an underrated Christmas classic, this feels only fitting considering I’ve covered two other Christmas Carols this year.

I missed out on this one as a kid, which I do kinda regret since I loved the Muppets so much, but watching it for the first time last year really showed me why so many people hold it in such high regard, especially other Muppet fans. And I hope to show you all the same, in the review I give right after watching it again to refresh my memory:

I’ve said a couple times that adaptations of stories told as often as A Christmas Carol need to bring something new to the table as well as doing the story justice. And that’s a goal that this telling accomplishes with aplomb, being surprisingly faithful as well as doing some stuff that makes it better than any other version I’ve seen.

First off, there’s the involvement of the Muppets, something which will appeal to fans such as myself. But it’s not just novelty; having these parts played by such beloved characters can add impact to sad moments. For example, Tiny Tim’s death is always sad, but it hits even harder when it’s Robin the Frog who succumbed to illness.

But even outside of the Muppets, Michael Caine gives quite possibly the best portrayal of Scrooge I’ve ever seen. When he puts off wiping the snow from the grave, holding back tears and begging to know whether he can still change the future, it brings tears to my eyes every time I see it.

He’s certainly the only one I could think of where I really bought the character development. With other adaptations, it feels like Scrooge just suddenly turned into an entirely different person.

And that segues nicely into the topic of what this version does differently, as I brought up at the beginning: For one, this Scrooge does have visible character development, and it’s not just because of Michael Caine’s brilliant performance.

In most versions, the Ghost of Christmas Present will just show Scrooge his nephew and Bob Cratchit’s family, focusing purely on the negative effects that Scrooge’s greed has on those around him. In this version? Scrooge is also shown the magic of Christmas, why people love it so, in the form of a musical number sung by the spirit as well as the people of London.

Then there’s Bean Bunny as the boy who Scrooge asks to buy the turkey at the end, doubling as a poor beggar boy who Scrooge turns away at the beginning, and who spends Christmas Eve freezing on the streets.

It’s a staple of the Christmas Carol story for Scrooge to refuse to donate to charity, but here we see for ourselves someone who that money might’ve gone to, and who Scrooge’s grimness has (albeit indirectly) affected. And again, a moment that hits even harder because it’s a beloved Muppet that we see in that situation.

Getting back to the musical numbers, those are another thing this movie does that add something to the story. They’re all very well-written (I’ve added quite a few of them to my Christmas music playlist) and they contribute to the story.

I’ve touched on what It Feels Like Christmas brings to the table, but then there’s songs like Bless Us All, a gentle song sung by Tiny Tim and family on Christmas morning. Or Thankful Heart, which displays the change Scrooge has gone through better than anything else could.

While we’re on the topic of the songs, that does unfortunately bring us to one of the few negatives: The absence of When Love Is Gone in modern releases. I’ve seen it said that it messed with the pacing of the film and brought it to a screeching halt. But for better or worse, the song is baked into the film.

The background music as Belle is leaving clearly is the lead into a number, but in the version without the song, it simply peters out. Thus leaving Scrooge and Belle’s parting as simply a short exchange before she walks off.

Then there’s the issue of the reprise at the end, When Love Is Found. Without the earlier number for it to be a reprise of, it loses a lot of the effect it’s meant to have. It just serves as a closing number and credits song, rather than yet another display of how Scrooge changed for the better.

*sigh* Why, Katzenberg, why...?

Luckily, the negatives have been found for this song, and it’s to be reinserted in the 4K remaster. Who knows, maybe it’ll be my least favorite song by far. But, the film will be complete again. It won’t just awkwardly be missing a scene.

I could go on all day about why this film is so great, but I get the feeling that this post is on the long side already. Needless to say, I highly recommend it to anyone who hasn’t seen it yet. And I recommend a rewatch for those who have.

#Christmas #12 Days of Christmas #The Muppet Christmas Carol #long post

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sage-nebula · 4 years

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Game Review — Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles Remastered Edition

About seventeen years ago, I played a Gamecube game called Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles, and for the most part I really loved it. I got lost in every single dungeon all the time, and I really hated the annoying moogle I had to drag around, but other than that I loved the game. So it makes sense, then, why I would be excited when I heard it was getting a remastered release on Switch.

Overall Score: 6/10

While I was happy to get a chance to play this game again, I feel like Square-Enix whacked both of its kneecaps in two different ways. One, they did a remaster instead of a remake, meaning they just gave it a little polish instead of fixing existing issues; and two, they decided for some reason to port it to mobile phones, which I feel created some issues, though I admit I don’t have any proof of that. While I still enjoyed my time with the game for the most part, it definitely receives a lower score than I think I would have given the original in my youth. More details under the cut, best viewed on my blog for formatting.

The Pros:

This isn’t specific to the remaster, but rather more about the game itself, but one thing I think is notable about the setting is that it’s essentially a post-apocalyptic story, but it’s one where the people haven’t completely fallen into despair and ruin. I mean, some places have; there’s a village called Tida whose caravan never returned and so they all died slow deaths of miasma as their crystal’s protection ran out. But in other villages, including the player’s hometown, people are living their lives as best they can. Some people are even trying to find a way to get rid of the miasma altogether. While of course there is much to stress about and also people’s memories being taken from them, overall the world looks a bit brighter than in most post-apocalyptic stories. It’s always nice when post-apocalyptic stories recognize that even after the end, life still goes on.

I’ve also always rather enjoyed the way the way the game constantly reminds you that you’re not the only caravan out on this journey. You encounter caravans from other towns and villages pretty often, and their stories intersect with yours, growing as the in-game years pass. It’s another thing that makes the world feel alive, because you see again and again that there are other heroes out there, heroes of their own stories, that you’re just one of many in this world trying your best to get by and keep your village alive.

The soundtrack is also something that deserves praise, because it has a very . . . Celtic, I think? flair to it that really suits the setting, especially since the narrator has (what I believe is) an Irish accent. I can’t think of a single bad song in the entire game, and many of them are catchy and bouncy and fun to listen to.

After each little cutscene or dungeon, you get an entry added to the in-game journal, and I enjoy those as well. It helps keep track of the little side stories going on (since they span over years), and I like how some of them change depending on the choices you’re given in any given cutscene. That said, I do have a slight issue with them as well, but I’ll discuss that in a different section.

If you play single-player, the game assigns a moogle named Mog to carry the crystal chalice through the dungeons with you so you don’t suffocate due to the miasma. (In multiplayer, another player has to carry it.) This results in Mog getting tired, saying, “I’m tired, kupo, it’s your turn!” and making you carry it sometimes anyway, even if you’re being chased by monsters. When I played this game as a kid, it seemed like he was saying this EVERY FIVE SECONDS and it was THE MOST annoying thing. But it didn’t feel as frequent this time, and when I looked it up, I saw that the devs actually did extend the amount of time Mog could carry the chalice before he got tired. I appreciated this very much, even if Mog was still annoying.

The Neutrals:

From what I can tell, there wasn’t really a graphics overhaul done, except to increase the jiggle physics on female Selkies, which . . . I’m not a prude, I don’t really care that much (even though it can be distracting), but of all the things you chose to fix, it was this? Square-Enix, please.

While on the one hand I like that there’s no set order that you can encounter the random travel cutscenes in, that they can happen whenever, because it makes it feel like a more realistic journey . . . it also creates the problem that the events will still trigger even if you’re already finished the associated quest line. For example, to get the Unknown Element that lets you reach the final boss area, you have to complete a series of actions in Lynari Desert. You find out what you have to do through a series of travel cutscenes with a swindler named Gurdy, who gives you poem verses that strongly hint at what you need to do. I had a few of these before I reached the desert, but not all of them, so I just looked up a guide to get the remainder of the instructions. Despite this, I still later triggered the final Gurdy cutscene, and so it was like my character was standing there with the desert treasure while Gurdy told her about the desert treasure . . . it’s not a huge deal, but it does show how the idea of having random travel cutscenes is kind of flawed. (Additionally, you can beat the game without even finishing certain stories as a result, so it’s entirely possible you could get to Mio and not know who she’s talking about in the end. It’s not game breaking, but it is a bit of an issue too.)

The Cons:

The LOADING TIMES, OH MY GOD. This game has the longest loading times of any game I have ever played on the Switch, and I confirmed with someone who has played the original a billion times that these loading time issues were not present in the original game, meaning they are a direct result of development on the “remaster.” Literally, the game goes to a blank loading screen that lasts a good minute or two for almost everything. For every cutscene you have, any time you leave or enter a place, hell, even QUITTING THE GAME has a “Closing Software” box for FAR LONGER than any other Switch title, to the point where it made me afraid for a moment that my Switch, brand new though it is, was broken. I don’t know why the loading times are so bad, but I personally blame it on Square-Enix wanting to make the game multiplatform (multiplatform including fucking cell phones), thus not optimizing it for any one console. And on a similar note . . .

Online multiplayer is region-locked. Yes, you read that right. Two friends who I’d originally intended to caravan with live in Europe, and since I live in North America, we were unable to play together since Square-Enix decided to region-lock online multiplayer. It is honestly the most batshit stupid thing I have ever heard of. The only reasoning I can think of for why they did this is because of mobile phone support; it’s entirely possible that there is something within a phone’s SIM card that would make it not possible to play multiplayer across different continents, but honestly I have trouble believing even that since I believe that’s not a problem in other mobile games. Either way, the entire point of online play is to be able to play with anyone, no matter where they are, and the fact that in the year 2020 Square-Enix decided it was a good idea to region-lock online play is fucking ridiculous.

A minor complaint, but you can’t use the left joystick to scroll between items in menus. You have to use the little arrow buttons instead. This was also the case in the Switch port of Final Fantasy XII, so I think it’s a Square-Enix preference thing, but it annoyed me and I wish they’d at least give the option to change button configuration around.

There’s backtracking as the years go on that I personally found kind of annoying, especially when it made me go to dungeons I didn’t particularly like. The thing is, the gameplay in FFCC doesn’t have a lot of variance; you go to three dungeons, you fight three bosses, then the year ends and you repeat it the next year. The only real variety is in the dungeons themselves as you get to explore new ones. But in Year 5, you HAVE to repeat dungeons because you’re blocked off from going to new areas. And at a certain point there stops being new dungeons altogether, so you have to repeat dungeons if you want to get myrrh for the village. And yeah, the dungeons are a bit harder each time, but the layout is still the same, and so it made what was already a repetitive style of gameplay even more repetitive, which honestly made me eager to finish it as quickly as possible despite wanting to grind as long as possible when I first got the game because I wanted to avenge my childhood self, who never managed to beat the final boss.

The four different races to choose from all have different styles of gameplay, and you can make multiple characters in one file to fill out your caravan / open specialty shops all around town. The problem is, the only character in the caravan who gets stat boosts and experience from the dungeons is the one who goes through them, and the dungeons get tougher each time they’re completed. So unless you constantly rotate your characters, creating more characters to fill out the caravan and be able to use different play styles per different boss (such as using a Yuke when facing a boss like Dragon Zombie who can really only be affected by magic) is a pointless waste of time because your extra characters won’t be strong enough to face the boss you need them to face. I don’t know if this was an issue in the original, but it’s definitely a disappointing issue here.

While some of the journal entries change depending on your answer choices, I found it disappointing that the journal entries don’t change (or at least don’t always) change depending on what type of character you chose to play as. The specific example I have in mind is that I chose to play as a Selkie, and through the course of the journey I of course traveled to Leuda, which is home of the Selkies. If you choose to play as a Selkie, you can participate in a minigame there and no one will steal from you. Additionally, since you see in various dungeons that Selkies have had a very rough time of it and for the longest time couldn’t put a home base anywhere, I had it in my head that my Selkie character would feel like she returned home, in a sense, even though she personally didn’t grow up in Leuda. I mean, this is the land of her people, this is where Selkie history is richest, this is the reward they got for all the suffering they experienced. (And sort of still do, since the other races tend to be prejudiced against them, and one Selkie in Leuda even says that he thinks everyone else wants Selkies to just disappear.) But despite all of this, the journal entry for Leuda states that the main character had their wallet stolen and never wants to go back. That sort of entry makes sense if you’re playing as one of the other three races, but it doesn’t fit Selkies at all and was pretty disappointing. That’s just one example, but I’m sure there were others, and it would have been nice if a bit more thought was put into play here.

All in all, I still think that Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles is a game worth playing. I really like the worldbuilding, as well as the characters, and I did have fun with it. With that said, though, I think that Square-Enix should have given this game a proper remake instead of a remaster, and should have made it a Switch exclusive (just as the original was a Gamecube exclusive) so that they could optimize it for the hardware, instead of being greedy and putting out one that didn’t play very well just so they could make cross-platform money. But despite those issues, if you want a unique action-RPG, I don’t think that FFCC’s remaster would be a bad choice to try out.

#2020 game reviews #final fantasy: crystal chronicles

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faunusrights · 4 years

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OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 14

IN THIS EPISODE OF THE OFFAL HUNT LIVEBLOG:

On the other end of the line, Cinder let out a tight sigh. “Yeah. Okay, well—I’m in a difficult position right now. I’m balancing a lot. So, that wasn’t, you know, directed at you or whatever… I’m just trying to deliver you to Atlas. That’s all.”

“Yeah,” Glynda said. “This apology sucks.”

CINDER FALL TRIES TO HAVE MANNERS. AND FAILS. BUT SHE TRIES.

it’s been a WHILE but i’m STILL HERE!!!!!!!!! also i’m a little late to the draw and also unlike w/ prior chaps i did actually read this one when it came out so i’ve had my first run already. BUT that means i actually get 2 Focus so lets get this party started

so we’re now entering into the New Umbraroot Arc which Frightens me on a deep and intrinsic scale because now i have no padding to ready me for whatever the Hell is going to occur, but i do know it will be gay(er) than the current content was (is/shall be) and here’s the proof

It had only been a day, but the sound of Cinder’s voice was a relief to Glynda’s senses.

glynda that’s gay. hey. hey. glynda have u been told yr a lesbian. lesbeeb. besbion--

“Not at all.” Thank god. It was one thing to be traveling with Cinder Fall. It was entirely another to have her checking in on Glynda’s well-being.

cinder: my well-being is SHIT but thankfully there’s someone nearby doing WORSE than me, which makes me feel better at least,

“Oh.” Our sounded strange in her mouth.

my favourite thing abt any gay media and content is that it’s gay in ways that hettie(tm) nonsense can only dream of being. when a story is abt a guy and a gal all the romantic tension comes from like. looking at a tiddy or getting naked or w/e the shit. here? it’s literally found entirely in the use of the word our. such power. i love it.

I went from unknown to one of Atlas’ most wanted overnight, which is charming… And also annoying, because they refuse to stop pasting wanted posters on every street corner.

i feel like cinder is the type of bitch to send pics of them back to emerald like ‘is my face ACTUALLY that janky??? my hair is a state. you think they’ll use a selfie if i ask nicely???’

Cinder hummed, affirmative. “Which would be unnecessary, if you hadn’t reported me.”

Glynda returned, “I wouldn’t have reported you if you hadn’t been committing a crime.”

glynda you snitch. you narc. you bootlicker. does be gay do crime mean NOTHING to you,

We left a funny taste in her mouth, almost as strange as when Cinder had said our. She tried not to examine it too closely.

again. look at this shit. this is real slowburn hours. this is how u DO IT.

Her heart was beginning to feel like a pin cushion with all the needles pulled out, little holes left in their wake.

would i be showing my age if i glanced at this and wondered if it were a reference to the inciting og offal hunt inspiration fic or. it does doesnt it. okay moving on.

“Okay.” And then, in an effort to change the subject to something lighter: “I’ve never broken into a country before.”

glynda’s complete and continuous inability to actually like. do what she plans on doing is SO funny to me. she’s going to be stealthy, she says, throwing a man aside in obvious fashion. i’m going to be subtle, she says, being as conspicuous as possible. she’s a disaster and i live for it.

"The Faunus." Cinder's voice was cold. "Don't speak to her."

this part of this fic is subtitled ‘cinder’s rank opinions time’, apparently. not that u can tell. but it is. dsfhgjsdfghjghfjdk

In the silence that followed, Glynda thought of the stunted horns jutting above Cinder's hairline at the restaurant.

Glynda murmured, "That’s a horrible thing to say."

"Don’t start." There was no concession in her words. “I mean it.”

“...I just didn’t expect that from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

There was something in Cinder’s tone that told Glynda that nothing she said would be correct. She said nothing.

cinder’s! rank! opinions! time! honestly this section victimises me the MOST as i very famously cried over an earlier section in which cinder thought abt all the faunus she grew up with, so i know that kc and diesel were looking to hurt me directly. that said i DO find it funny that cinder, yet again, looks like a pile of shit. she can’t do anything right. naturally inclined to be the villain completely unintentionally. what a moron.

A harsh laugh. “What do you think we are, friends?”

“Well, no—um. Not really, but—”

YOU SEE. CINDER. PLEASE. £10 FOR U TO BEHAVE FOR FIFTEEN SECONDS.

“Then, just—just listen to me. I’m going to get us there. I p-promise.” There was a soft sound, like disgust or the prelude to a gag. “Urgh, your soul—give me more space.”

cinder: i’m inclined to being an asshole glynda: every time yr mean 2 me i’ll make u feel worse cinder: ah no. ah shit. i have to be nice??? ah fuck. what the shit is this.

Glynda thought of Ozpin. It wasn’t a comforting thought—more like the memory of a near-accident, like sliding on ice and feeling the world shift beneath you. It was a flinch-thought, and it would have made her miserable instead of just homesick had she not shut it out so quickly.

god the writing in this fic is so especially pristine. everything feels so real and visceral and you just know Exactly how that feels. it’s brilliantly punchy and i adore the way u get have the exact sensation click into place. it’s SO good.

She wondered if it was the same moon Bacia and Vivienne had looked upon. If they had felt the same beneath its pale light. The Great War had seen two shatterings of the moon, so perhaps it had appeared different, but… Glynda couldn’t help but wish that it was something they shared, even lifetimes apart.

👈😎👈

actually im a little nervous abt doing fingerguns because WHAT IF SMTHNG HAS CHANGED... but i think this bit is. safe. maybe. diesel. kc. am i safe,

Glynda closed her eyes and tried to feel out that instinctual power within her. Tried to know herself better. It resonated around her like a water in a tank, nearly palpable.

again this is just GREAT storytelling. i just LOVE how well kc and diesel turn abstract ideas into such physical manifestations it’s completely unreal. r y’all seein this shit???

upon checking his number, she’d discovered it had been blocked.

i love that glynda is abt as knowledgeable abt little jumps like this as the reader is. are we surprised as a reader? yes. is glynda also surprised? HELL YEAH SHE IS. SHE AIN’T GOT A FUCKIN CLUE MY DUDE.

Remembering the notes to herself not to trust Winter, Glynda opened the log hesitantly.

glynda no yr sending read receipts to yr future gf and thats a bad move on everybodys part

The indicator showed this wasn’t the first time Glynda had accessed the message. She couldn’t remember doing so.

OH NO BITCH U ALREADY DID

“Special Operative Schnee, things are…” Glynda paused, searching for something suitably vague to say. “Proceeding.

do you see what i mean abt glynda’s ineptitude. it’s slapstick levels of ridiculous and i’m living for it.

Do you suspect she’s attempting to cross the border?”

“Maybe.”

‘sure,’ glynda says. ‘you could word it like that if you wanted to.’

“Bold of her, if nothing else. She should know there will—” Glynda skimmed through the rest of the paragraph to reach the end, the corners of her mouth curling. “—can make arrangements. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

HGSDFGKHJSFDGHKJDF JESUS CHRIST

its like in fallout 4 when someone tells u important info and when u click past it the main character just goes ‘uh huh’ ‘yeah’ ‘okay’ ‘sure’ ‘mm-hm’ as the text boxes whizz by GLYNDA PLEASE

Bubbles appeared, showing that Cinder was typing. Glynda waited.

And waited.

The bubbles appeared and disappeared four times.

She flipped back to Cinder’s conversation and found that, after all that time, Cinder had finally settled on a reply.

It said:

“Good.”

i just had to pair these up for a second if only to say: dis me lol

okay let’s double back for a second just to cover this Juicy Lore:

If you’d like, I can arrange a bouquet of flowers to be left at your mothers’ memorial site. My thoughts are with you.”

For a long moment, Glynda simply stared at the screen. [...] In quick succession, she realized that it had been sixteen days since she’d met with Cinder in the restaurant and that it was soon to be the anniversary of her mothers’ deaths.

WHAT IS THIS LORE MA’AM AND MX??? **MA’X**??? firstly idk what the HELL the Black March tragedy is but im fascinated but also: did u have to do that. can ONE person in this fic not have [spoilers redacted cant say that yet no sir] problems??? no??? die. dsfhjgghjkfsddf

Glynda picked herself up from the armchair, neat and tidy, and disassembled into bed, pulling the covers up to her throat. With her Semblance, she turned off the lights. She closed her eyes.

It was quiet. Cold. The only thing she felt was the weight of her soul.

Her Scroll buzzed. Glynda answered it.

“Glynda.” It was Cinder. “I can feel that.”

okay following on from cinder’s text message, i just. love that cinder’s having such direct repercussions to her shitty shitty actions. like this is all tying together in some 👈😎👈 instances but having cinder be her usual callous self and having to literally turn around and start fucking Being Nice For Once is VERY gratifying. fuck you you lil round-faced one-braincelled baby. time to learn to have some Manners. jgdsfghsdfghfjd

She’d simply resigned to the loneliness of having no one to trust but Cinder, and then, not even having her.

... thats gay. hey lads is that gay? its gay. it feels gay.

“Yeah,” Glynda said. “This apology sucks.”

this feels like a reference to 👈👈👈😎👈👈👈 (IS IT. AM I RIGHT. IT IS ISNT IT) but also: LOOK AT CINDER GO. TRYING. BADLY. BUT TRYING. i love her she sucks so much shes such a dumbass. feel the consequences. feel them.

Glynda chided herself; Cinder Fall wasn’t capable of remorse, but she was more than capable of simple math. It seemed the worse she treated Glynda, the worse she herself would feel.

glynda: she’s doing this because it makes her feel better, not me cinder in like idk 20 chapters down the line:

(i guess thats another 👈😎👈 moment but for GOOD REASON)

There was a shift, like Cinder was rolling over, or maybe propping herself up. Was she in bed also? It triggered the remembrance of Glynda’s own physicality, and she turned over as well, searching in the dark for the nightstand and the lamp upon it. The light clicked on. The room brightened. Glynda settled in, ready.

OOOOOH THE PARALLELS. glynda turning the lights off and sinking into darkness and the void versus perking up and sitting up and turning the lights on when talking to cinder!!!!!!! POETIC CINEMA. OOF. OOF. HOW DOES FIFTEEN POINTS OF LOVE TASTE.

“Great! Lovely. Glad to hear it.” Fangs rounded out the words like scissors. A pleasant sense of satisfaction unfurled in Glynda’s chest. “So, once upon a fucking time—”

there were two gays and they were enemies to lovers but didnt know it yet. but they will be.

THATS CHAPTER 14 BABEY!!!!!!!! i LOVED this chap and i can rly feel kc and diesel gearing up for umbraroot. its great being able to like. feel the shift of focus goin on here and im SO ready to see this arc play out. once again offal hunt is the best fic ever made. this is a fact.

#rwby #liveblog #offal hunt #i almost typed 'offal hut' which is not the pizza hut experience i want

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ssnakey-b · 5 years

Text

FF8 English-French translarison, part 24: Return of the Translarison!

Holy shit, have I seriously not posted a new part since February?! Well, it’s time to get back to business. Since it’s been a while, in case you forgot, last time, the team was getting ready to face Edea for the second and last time. Let’s get to it.

We start with another example of Fujin telling us a bit more than in English as instead of just “FATIGUED!”, she says “I can’t take it any more!”.

Meanwhile, instead of “Let’s just go. ...Let’s get it over with, ya know?”, Raijin says “Come on, let’s keep going! We gotta end this!”

To this, English Fujin rplies “REQUEST” (which I’m still not sure what she means by that since she doesn’t actually request anything) while her French counterpart says “I’ve had it!”. A little dialogue follows.

English:

Raijin: ...We’re leavin’ Seifer up to you now, ya know? We don’t know what’s going on anymore, ya know? ...We just want the old Seifer back, ya know?”

Squall: (Seifer... He probably thinks he can’t go back now.) All right.

French:

Raijin: Seifer, we’ve had enough... this isn’t fun for us. We don’t know what’s going on! You weren’t like that before...

Squall: (Seifer won’t give up. No, not now...) I see...

I’ll give the English text that it’s a nice bit of characterization that Raijin is basically asking Squall to save Seifer from himself, or at least stop him from going even further down the deep end than he already has but man, do these annoying catchphrases and gimmick destroy any atmosphere for me. I really don’t understand why English-language translators are so obsessed with them (and if they were in the original Japanese, well, not everything needs to be translated directly).

Seriously, professional translators, you gotta understand that you don’t need to commit to a running gag every goddamn time to the detriment of everything else. Even if you don’t think it takes you out of the story, running gags get really old really quick.

Also, we once again get a hint that Seifer used to be better, which would have been nice to actually see in the game rather than constantly be assured that it used to be the case because again, we see more genuine chemistry between the Jin Team & Squall than between him and Seifer.

Anyway, with that rant over, let’s continue. This guy, who gives you the first key card, says mostly the same thing in both versions, but I wanted to bring it up because of an UNFORGIVABLE mistake in the French version. That’s right, despite the sentence being pluralized, they used the pronoun “Il” without an S, which is the singular form!! I really hope whomever wrote that atone by cutting off their pinky at the first knuckle.

On a more serious level, there is also an interesting little bit in the English version where he mentions that most students were kicked out, which is absent in the French version. And I mean, I guess it doesn’t need to be stated explicitly, but I think it’s nice to have it confirmed that Galbadia Garden was completely recycled into a military base, as it adds to the tragedy that the student basically lost their home IMO. Although I guess at least it means they’re not being held hostages.

And now it’s time to finally meet these hockey-playing monsters we’ve been told about so long ago. I just love that the devs actually made those, and that they decided that their reaction to a massive battles would be to take the opportunity to get involved in the fight for no real reason.

And yes, as you may have noticed the Slappers are called Jason in the French version of the game, because why not throw in a Friday the 13th reference for good measure? And if you remember (in which case, congrats on the good memory considering how long ago that was), this ties into another reference that’s been invented by the French version, where they explained that these guys psych themselves up for a match by watching horror movies such as Friday the 13th. Just amazing!

But wait! That’s not all! Because if you scan them, the French version also explicitly mentions that the Jasons are, in fact, students at Galbadia Garden. I mean, you could gather that information in the English version as well, but to have it explicitly stated here just makes it that much funnier to me. Just imagine having to take classes with these things next to you. Do they keep the masks on? What do they look under there? Please, Square-Enix, cancel the remaster and put your resources towards giving us a spin-off expanding on this lore. THIS is what the world needs!

Sadly, we must leave the Jasons, but we do get to meet Cerberus! The original dog from Hell!

Massive difference in tone between the versions when it comes to Cerberus, or Cerbères in French (the last E is silent, as is the S). In English, he’s very blunt, talking less like an immortal demonic being and more like a pro wrestling Heel, yeeling in all caps “PRETTY CONFIDENT. LET’S SEE HOW YOU DO. SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!” which by the way, really makes me wish he went “I LIKE WHAT YOU GOT” upon being defeated.

In French, he is more eloquent and collected, saying “What arrogance! Mere mortals! Show me what you’re capable of!”. And while his actual line upon defeat is “NOT BAD...MORTALS” in English, in French, he simply says “Interesting”.

One last detail about this fight I’d like to mention. After Irvine mentions he doesn’t know that Guardian Force, French Squall simply says “Let’s take it!” but I like the English version a lot more here, as Squall goes “Ahh... let’s just take it.”

Yeah, sometimes you just gotta go with the flow. And I think that says a lot as to where Squall is mentally at this point. Just done. Fuck it. I mean, he just fought a team of horror-inspired hockey monsters, there’s no point in questioning anything any more.

Much to my dismay, it’s time to meet up with Seifer again. The dialogue stays mostly consistent across both versions, with the one notable detail being that in the English version, when addressing Linoa, he says “remember a year ago we...” whereas in French, he says “and yet, a year ago...” so the English version hints at a slightly deeper, perhaps more reciprocal relationship.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the only acknowledgement Seifer gives of any previous relationship between the two in either version, and it’s in an optional bit of dialogue that only appears if Linoa is in the party at this point. This is why I am not buying this supposed love triangle for a second. Much like every part of the supposed rivalry between Seifer and Squall, it barely exists, what little is there is completely superficial and Seifer is blatantly outmatched right form the get go.

And look, I’m not here to tell you you’re right of wrong in your headcanons or fanfics or whatever, I really don’t care. However, it always annoys me when people go on and on about how deep and meaningful this love triangle when it’s really not. In fact, it barely is at all. So again, I’m not giving people shit if they want to make it a thing, but you gotta keep in mind that whatever story you give them is entirely your creation. Because when it comes to what’s actually shown in the game, well, it’s almost nothing, which makes me wonder why it’s even there to begin with. The extent of their story is: Linoa thought Seifer was hot, Seifer might have thought the same about her, maybe?

Anyway, second rant over, there’s a small difference in the dialogue with Irvine. In English, Seifer says “Hey, you’re a Galbadian student, get over here.” to which irvine replies “I’m happy right here, thank you.”

In french, Seifer says “Hey, the Galbadian, you’re coming back home?” and he answers with “I like my new country better” which I don’t think is actually quite what’s going on but I will admit is an interesting take on this scene.

Again, things are pretty similar in the dialogue between Squall and Seifer leading up to the battle, with Squall saying Seifer is just another monster in both versions, although Seifer’s last line before the fight is different... and very stupid either way. In English, he says “You guys are the monsters” and in French he says “I think of myself as a Boss, yeah”.

Well I’m glad both lines are equally cringeworthy, with English Seifer cribbing his from a 12 year old trying to sound deep and French Seifer just coming across like the kind of douche that The Lonely Island likes to parody. Also, I think the French version may have attempted to be cute. Get it? Because he’s a boss battle! HA HA no.

In the auditorium, we have a slight difference in Edea’s opening line. In English, she refers to Squall as “the legendary SeeD destined to face me”. In French, she calls him “the famous Seed whose coming is announced by all”. It seems a bit weird to me as I’m not getting the impression that Squall is all that famous in-universe so it would be weird that “all” would announce his arrival.

So I think the English version works a little bit better as it gives the impression she knows that due to her insight into future events. Then again, you could argue that French Ultimecia is talking about her original timeline, where perhaps Squall was leading the charge against her and he had become some kind of hero to the people of that time, and that she is trying to stop him before he can become that hero. After all, for someone like Ultimecia, it would make sense to view the various timelines as one and the same.

So we fight, I grab Alexander (known in French as Alexandre, so almost the same, but the English name will still show in my game due to my save file getting confused) and during Squall’s blackout, we get a slight difference that once again at the two translations being based off the original Japanese rather than each-other, as in English, Squall complains about his body hurting whereas in French, it’s specifically his head, so it appears we have different interpretations going on.

Similarly, after Edea asks if she was able to protect Ellone (which interestingly, shows that Edea is at least not always aware of what Ultimecia is doing), English Squall thins “I don’t understand”, showing general confusion at the situation, whereas French Squall thinks “I don’t know.” replying directly to her question about Ellone.

And that’s it for today! Next time, we’ll see how differently Squall reacts to Linoa’s situation in both versions as we finally start taking on the 3rd CD content. I hope you all enjoyed this return of the translarison, I honestly didn’t realize it had been this long. I promise I’ll try and be more regular again, even though as I’ve said before, the only schedule for this is “when I feel like it”.

Now speaking of future updates, in case you missed it, I would like to start streaming my gameplay sessions on Twitch as I take screenshots and comment on what’s happening, and hopeuflly take your questions and observations. If it”‘s something that sounds interesting to you, I would really like you to say so by commenting on this post, dropping me a line or however you see fit, and if/when it happens, you can join us at twitch.tv/ssnakeyb. Either way, likes and reblogs are always appreciated to help spread the word.

Have a nice day, everyone! I’l be seeing you next time!

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