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leilabeaux · 3 years

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In My Sights III

Masterlist | Two

Pairing: Ivar/ Fem Reader

Word Count: 3570

Warning: None? 7 years bad luck?

Summary: A meeting with two brothers from Vestfold takes Ivar off guard.

Author’s Note: Well, this part was a long time coming. That means I will have part four ready next year.

The dining room was sparsely occupied that early afternoon with women who lunch, businessmen on lunch breaks, and their quiet chatter. The Vine had long been considered a historical landmark in Kattegat and was formerly a struggling fine dining restaurant. It had only gained popularity with the upper class once Aslaug Lothbrok, a well-known Götaland socialite who was newly married and new to the city, started to make her presence there. Though it’s popularity faded over the years, it was still preferred by the old money elite. Mostly for the staff’s discretion rather than the food and ambience.

It was for that reason why the Lothbrok sons preferred the establishment for their business lunches. Extra care was also usually taken with a generous tip to the host to ensure no other guests would be seated next to their table but today it was turning out to be a waste of money as the hushed voices from their corner of the room began to grow.

Ivar drummed his fingers against the table as he brought the cup of coffee to his lips, glaring across at his three older brothers. Apparently, the idiots had forgotten the importance of discretion as they were busy bickering over why their associates called for today’s meeting. He hoped the clinking of his cup when he set it down roughly onto the saucer would disrupt their chattering but, to his annoyance, still they continued.

Leaning back in his chair, his left hand mindlessly traced the carved out dragon on his cane, last year’s birthday gift from his dear Uncle Floki, while he scrolled through the day’s news on his phone. One particular article detailed the resignation of a Mercia diplomat after the unexpected death of her eldest son, mentioning that authorities were looking for a red-headed female who was last seen with him for questioning.

Good luck finding her, Ivar thought to himself. He had given up all attempts at trying to find you or any information about you after a year upon your meeting. After coming up empty through hacked databases and facial recognitions, he concluded that you were virtually a ghost or at least knew very powerful people who worked hard to keep you hidden. All he could do was sit and wait until he heard from you again, hoping his right hand and the memories of your last tryst would keep him satisfied till then.

He felt his slacks tighten as he got lost in a memory of you trapped underneath him as he pounded into your sweet cunt. The whines of you begging him to make you come he heard in his head were interrupted when Ubbe pounded his fist on the table, causing the glassware to shake.

“For fuck’s safe, Ivar, get off your fucking phone!” His older brother harshly whispered, checking over his shoulder at the other patrons, finally aware of the scene they were making.

“And why would I do that, dear brother?” Ivar still had his eyes turned down to his phone as he sent you the link of the article and a brief message: You’re on their radar. I wonder what you’re willing to do to make sure I don’t turn you in. Throwing his phone on the table, he raised an eyebrow as he bestowed Ubbe with his undivided attention. “So I can join you fools in biting our fingernails, worrying why they called for a meeting at the last minute?”

“They” were two brothers from Vestfold, owners of a large fishing company based out of their hometown and, most recently, out of Kattegat as well. To the public eye, it was assumed that it was hard work, determination, and a wise investment from Ivar’s father that turned the once struggling business into a multi million dollar success. But the young men currently seated at the table knew that the wise investment was generous compensation throughout the years for hauling more than just fish on their boats. Whether it was guns, stolen art and, for a very brief moment in time, opiates, Halfdan and Harald provided safe transport for anything the Lothbroks were running.

“You're not the least bit worried? What if they’re wanting to pull out of our deal? The Rus are not going to be pleased if we’re not able to deliver their shipment.” Ubbe wrung his hands as he thought of the worst. He was not looking forward to telling the Rus leader of any potential delays. The man wasn’t the most level headed or understanding and honestly, he creeped him out a bit.

Hvitserk nodded his head in agreement. “They might be. Remember, they were wanting a cut of our profits the last time we met with them but Ivar thought it wasn’t a good idea…” He pursed his lips in disapproval before cutting his eyes toward the youngest Lothbrok.

If Ivar had rolled his eyes any harder, he would have given himself a headache. “They’ve been doing the same job for our family for nearly twenty years, nothing more and nothing less, and have been paid fairly for it. Maybe a little too much in my opinion but I will honor our father’s wishes. Still they have no business being greedy. If it wasn’t for the Lothbroks, they would still be hauling fish into a sinking dinghy.”

“There are probably others who are looking for a way to transport their shit and all they need is a smug asshole like Harald to offer his services.” Hvitserk swirled his drink in his glass, taking a sip before continuing. “I think we should give them at least half of what they were wanting.”

Ivar gave an aggravated sigh and was ready to shoot down what he thought was the stupidest thing to come out of his brother’s mouth.

“I don’t know, I think Ivar’s right.” Sigurd chimed in. “They should be grateful for all our father did for them, not bite the hand that feeds them.”

The other men at the table sat in silence as they stared at him in confusion. It was thought that Sigurd would rather eat a bullet than agree with anything Ivar had to say.

“I changed my mind. Give them everything they ask for.” Ivar had joked, he would never admit out loud or to himself that he appreciated his least favorite brother taking his side. Officially done with the conversation, he picked his phone back up. He held back his smile as he read the new message: Anything you want me to do, handsome. But first, you’d have to find me.

Ubbe looked up from behind his nerve-wracked hands toward the lobby and gave a sigh. “Thank gods, they’re finally here...and of course he brought his fucking girlfriend. To our illegal business lunch meeting. Great.”

Hvitserk gave a quick and quiet wolf whistle as his eyes studied the woman on Harald’s arm, from head to toe. “Is that the same one he brought to your birthday party? Didn’t she have different hair and was a bit taller?”

“How can you not tell? I thought you fucked her while cake was being served?” Sigurd questioned.

“All I remember was the back of her head, to be honest.”

Ivar couldn’t hold back the snort at Hvitserk’s comment. Whatever smart ass response that was about to come out died on his tongue as he looked up at the woman that was being led to them. This was definitely a new girlfriend because if you were the one Hvitserk had fucked in the coat check room, he was going to have one less brother.

As always you looked like perfection to him but he knew your presence, or rather your outfit, was causing a bit of a stir in the restaurant especially among the older women who were busy clutching their pearls. From the plunging neckline of the loose dark green silk shirt to the matching miniskirt with a side-slit it was tucked into, your ensemble was far from the acceptable dress code of the Vine but the host knew better than telling Ivar and his brothers that their guest would have to leave, no matter how many complaints he’d get from the other patrons.

“Can you two shut the fuck up before he hears you?” Ubbe scolded Hvitserk and Sigurd before standing up to greet their guests. Shaking Halfdan’s hand before moving onto Harald, “Gentleman, I’m glad you could finally join us.”

Halfdan gave a frustrated sigh as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and plopped himself down on an empty seat. “Believe me, it wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh come on, brother. We didn’t keep you waiting that long.” Harald slapped a hand on his shoulder before parading the young woman on his arm. “Boys, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend Veronica.”

Ivar instantly wished he had ordered something stronger than coffee. He didn’t want to believe for a moment that you would choose to be with someone like Harald but you did warn him before that he hardly knew you.

In his opinion, the Fishmonger wasn’t much to be desired. And if it was money you were after, Ivar’s funds could have kept your excessive shopping addiction quelled more than the mere pennies the other man had. He knew he could satisfy you in that way and others.

Patiently sitting back in his chair, he watched as you politely smiled while you shook hands with each of his brothers. Hvitserk was unaware how close he was to a dinner knife to his thigh after lingering a second too long while kissing the back of your hand. Fortunately, Harald had the good sense to pull you away.

Ivar balanced his weight on his cane as he stood up to introduce himself, taking a risk and gently caressing his thumb against your hand. “Lovely to meet you, Veronica.”

Although you said nothing back, he didn’t miss the small smirk that briefly graced your face letting your alleged boyfriend lead you to your seat.

“I hope you boys don’t mind her being here. I know we try to keep these meetings to ourselves but I’ve been a little busy and this beautiful thing has been missing me.” He kissed the back of your hand, causing you to giggle. “Didn’t even want to take my card and go on a shopping spree.”

“I swear you won’t even hear a peep from me.” You promised, miming zipping your lips closed while you took a seat across from Ivar. “Harry’s shop talk ends up sounding more like gibberish to me anyway!”

Ivar had to focus to not show his confusion when he heard you speak. The words coming out of your mouth sounded as if they were dipped in saccharine and nowhere near the lower sultry tone he was used to. He hoped to himself that you would stay true to your promise and remain silent.

Unfortunately, promises meant nothing to his brothers.

“So what do you do for a living, Veronica?” Sigurd asked while cutting into his beef tenderloin.

You gave him a closed smile, dabbing the corners of your mouth with your napkin as you swallowed your last bite. “Oh my goodness! Nothing as important as what you gents do! I worked in this cute little boutique over in Vestfold before Harry whisked me away!”

“Wow, you must have made a killing in commissions.” Ivar couldn’t resist this opportunity to make you sweat, if that was even possible.

He was sure that hint of confusion on your face seemed authentic to everyone else. “No? Actually, I worked hourly...”

You were cut off by an annoyed groan from Ubbe as he rubbed his face, the food on his plate was barely touched. “Harry...I mean Harald, why did you call this meeting?”

“You couldn’t wait a few more minutes until we were done eating? I’d expect mommy to have taught you some manners.” Harald sighed and tossed his napkin on the table before leaning back in his chair.

Ivar didn’t miss you curling your hand around your knife. The tension surrounding the table definitely wasn’t missed by you.

Before Ubbe could respond, Halfdan had cut into the conversation. “Look, we know the last meeting didn’t go well.”

“Actually, you shot one of our men in the head.” Hvitserk stated, staring at Harald as he made his point.

Halfdan quickly interjected, “One of our captains went rogue. Was convinced by some mysterious buyer to deliver your last load of weapons to them. Don’t worry, we took care of the problem”

The younger Lothbrok brother stayed silent while his brothers voiced out their displeasure. You took a sip from your glass, your eyes cutting back and forth to the men surrounding you.

“Oh, did you?” Ubbe questioned incredulously. “Because there shouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Yes, we did.” Harald finally broke his silence with an emphasis on every word. “The man liked a good drink...a little too much. It was unfortunately only a matter of time until he drunkenly stumbled off his boat. I’m sure the medical examiner we paid off would attest that it was accidental drowning. As for the guns, they’re on another boat with a crew we know we can trust.”

“The buyer? Do you think it was the Saxons?” Sigurd suggested to the table.

“No, they thrive on letting it be known when they screw us over. I suspect they either are or know someone close. In either our circle or yours. I just hope our actions show that we are loyal and can be trusted.” Harald regarded that last statement to Ivar, knowing his silence throughout the exchange meant he was the one he had to win over.

The young man grinned as he sat back in his seat “You know, before you got here, my brothers were saying they didn’t think you deserved any part of our profits but I personally think a five percent cut of every successful shipment is reasonable.”

A smirk slowly spread against Harald’s face. “I think that sounds very reasonable.”

----

Ivar slowly made his way to the front of the restaurant. The remainder of lunch was uneventful other than the mindless chatter of Hvitserk and Sigurd asking you 20 questions. Ubbe promptly left after taking care of the bill and with so few words.

He rolled his eyes in disgust as he watched Harald wrap his arms around you, not even trying to be modest as his hands grabbed your ass. He had to fight the urge to not cut the man’s hands off for touching something that belonged to him.

You squealed and playfully swatted his chest. You gave a quick glance at Ivar as he slowly approached. “Baby, I’ll meet you outside. I just need to touch up my lipstick real quick.”

“Okay, lovely. Don’t be too long, we have a plane waiting on us.” He pressed a quick kiss on your lips before letting you go. He walked out of the restaurant, not even noticing that Ivar was close by.

Your heels clicked on the marble floor and you peeked over your shoulder toward Ivar, giving him a small grin before you made a quick turn into the washroom.

Ivar looked around to make sure there were no eyes on him as he made his way in the same direction as you. He didn’t expect his brothers to worry too much about him. He would’ve been surprised if one of them had waited for him especially since he took his own personal town car to the restaurant.

Before he could even walk through the door, you yanked him in by his tie then pushed him against the adjacent wall. He barely had time to react when he felt your lips against his own. He wrapped his arm around your waist and groaned when your hand tugged down on his locks.

Usually you enjoyed taking your time kissing him, teasing with a soft touch of your hand at the back of his neck, savoring every small whine he made when you nipped on his bottom lip. But today was different as you rushed to deepen the kiss. Both of you knew that if you were gone too long, Harald would come hunting for you.

When you broke away from him, you looked into his eyes, stifling a soft giggle. “Hi there, handsome.” You teased, your voice finally back to normal.

“Gods, that voice you were putting on was annoying.”

“I don’t know. Harald seems okay with it.” You pushed yourself away from him, walking over to the sink and pulled out a tube of lipstick from your clutch.

Ivar stayed put against the wall, watching as you leaned over the sink to look yourself in the mirror.

He repeatedly tapped his cane on the tile, “Is he why you said no?”

“Said no to what?” You stayed focused on reapplying the red color on your lips. You couldn’t help but laugh when you looked up and saw the annoyed look Ivar was giving you.

You smooth a finger around your lips, cleaning up any smudges. “I’m not his girlfriend, Ivar. He thinks I’m the very expensive call girl he hired to keep him company over the weekend. Just your basic girlfriend experience.” You dropped the lipstick back into your clutch before closing it with a snap.

“Your client wants him taken care of?” He walked over and propped his hip against the counter next to you. “That would save me some money in the long run. One less brother to pay.”

“No…” You looked down at the porcelain instead of looking him in the eyes. “I’m just collecting information on him by any means necessary.”

“Any means necessary?” While Ivar usually admired your dedication to committing to your undercover work, he found himself not liking the idea of you following through on this one. “Y/N, please tell me there’s a target on his head.”

You quickly glanced up at him through the mirror before turning to lean against the counter. You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “At the moment, no.”

“Goddammit, Y/N” Ivar pinched the bridge of his nose. Though the thought of someone else hands over your body aggravated him, the idea of another man inside of you incited him. “Are you going to fuck him? Have you fucked him?”

“Ivar…you and your brothers were waiting for a reason. It would have been suspicious if the hooker refused to fuck him.” You stated as if that was a reasonable explanation.

“How much is your client paying you? I’ll double it—fuck it, I’ll triple it if you just walk away now.”

“No one is paying me. I’m on my boss’s orders.”

“And who do you work for again?”

“Tsk, tsk. You already know that if I told you, I’d have to kill you and I don’t want to have to mess up that pretty face. Again.” Pressing up against him, you gently brushed your thumb over the faint scar that went across his cheek. A sweet parting gift from one of your earlier encounters with him.

“Tell me what information you need and I’ll get it for you.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “Just...just don’t go with him.”

You cradled his face in your hands. For a brief moment, there was a look that Ivar had seen on your face before, a mixture of pity and sadness. You shook your head then pressed a gentle kiss on his lips before you walked away from him.

“Please don’t hate me, handsome.” Through the wall length mirror ahead of him, he saw you turn to face him after pausing at the closed door. “You can be mad and you can curse at me until we’re old and grey. Shit, you could even throw another knife at me but I think it would hurt me more if you hated me.”

You waited a moment for him to say or do anything, but when all you got was silence, you walked out of the door.

Ivar took a deep inhale to try to calm the anger that was beginning to flow through his body. He turned toward the mirror, his knuckles going white as he grabbed onto the edge of the sink. No care when his cane falls to the ground with a resounding smack.

When he was younger, he had got into some trouble after he hit a classmate with a rock. The therapist his Uncle Floki took him to after the incident told him to try counting to ten whenever he saw red.

He closed his eyes, letting out an exhale at every count in his head.

On five, he could see you.

Six, Harald slowly walking up behind you.

Seven, him taking you into his arms.

Eight, his tongue sliding up your neck.

Nine, his hand trailing down to your center.

Ten, you softly moaning out Harald’s name.

Ivar screamed out in rage and punched the mirror. He didn’t even notice the pain in his fist until his breathing evened out. He straightened out his tie the best he could with the distorted reflection in front of him. Flexing his injured hand, he reached over and grabbed one of the towels laid out on the counter, wrapping his hand in it.

If Harald didn’t have a target on his head before, he fucking did now.

——

Tags: @xbellaxcarolinax @castielsangelsx @revolution-starter @momowhoo @peachyboneless @punkrocknpearls

@love-all-things-writing @peoniesandbooks5 @spotgaai2000 @walkxthexmoon @youbloodymadgenius @trip2themoon @zo3st3rmonro3

#vikings fanfic #ivar the boneless au #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x femreader #alex høgh andersen x fem reader #alex høgh andersen x reader

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ladyeliot · 3 years

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“Your stupid spider”

Superhero vs Villain!Reader Prompts

Request: Anonymous: Hello there! Could you write a Superhero vs Villain, where the reader is Peter Parker's best friend but also his enemy? You can use #3 if you want. By the way I love your stories and your writing. Lots of love.

Prompt #3: Truce?

Pairing: Superhero!Peter Parker x Villain!Fem!Reader

Summary: Peter Parker is your best friend, and Spider-man is your enemy. You finally discover that they are the same person.

Warnings: Violence.

Word count: 2446

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

"If you are really interested in how I discovered the identity of my greatest enemy, please read on."

You. An ordinary girl, born in Brooklyn to a single parent family who had moved into a small flat in the Queens area with her mother. No drugs, no alcohol, no tobacco, your obsession was pancakes and syrup. You didn't do any chores, and you didn't sneak out of the housework. After school you went home with your friends to do your homework. You liked reading, and you listened to music with headphones so as not to disturb the neighbours. In short, a teenager that many parents wish they had.

However, your persona wasn't all rosy, just because Y/N was like that, didn't mean your alter ego was too. You had a secret, everyone has secrets, you might think, but it wasn't just any secret, it was "The Secret", and no one knew it. That's why you could say it was the best kept secret in Queens, or at least that's what you thought until he came along. Spider-man.

Everything went smoothly, it took you a while to assume your powers, your teleportation, but when you got it you enjoyed your solitude in your night outings. You discovered the reality of New York City, the nocturnal and dark atmosphere of being hidden in the shadows, that is to say, you had fun as only you knew how to do. Nevertheless, since the arrival of that Spider-man, your fun was over. That man had in mind to destroy the true essence of the city and that was something you could not allow.

Your first meeting was at the top of Rockefeller Center, a night like any other after the end of one of the most intrepid police chases in Midtown West. There you were, watching the chase unfold, and there he arrived. Remarkably, due to the concealment of your costumes, neither of you could figure out who the other was, and your voice-impersonation skills helped you never get caught. All in all, that was one of many encounters you would have in the wake of Spider-Man's popularity. But still, your life went on.

"Are you telling me you're going to stand me up this afternoon for helping your aunt bake a cake?" you asked Peter between complaints. "You know we have to study for the chemistry test on Friday. And that I'm nothing without you in chemistry."

Although you tried to show him the most apologetic face in the whole world, Peter was not immune to it.

"Sorry Y/N," he closed his locker after grabbing his books. "I promised May last week, it's very important for her to give a good welcome to the new neighbours."

You rolled your eyes but finally came to terms with your defeat.

"Okay Parker," you gave him a little push. "But you've been letting me down in the afternoons for three days now. You'll make it up to me."

You winked and Peter's cheeks quickly turned pink, he gave you a shy smile and nodded goodbye. He was adorable. It was actually good to be free in the afternoons, since Spider-Man had gotten in your way, you had a complex relationship, playing cat and mouse, trying to hinder each other's actions, and it was interesting that week.

Like the previous days, after finishing your chores at home, you put on your black suit and disappeared. Your power was complex, you didn't fully understand it yet and you knew it would take a while, but you weren't scared. You could teleport to a specific place, teleport to another person or object, and even open portals to other places. But these superpowers had played tricks on you, sometimes you appeared in places you didn't recognise and then didn't know how to get back, or you had to return home by taking public transport. Everything has its drawbacks.

Dusk was falling over the island of Manhattan, it was a busy spring evening in New York, big businessmen were leaving their offices, dog walkers were wandering into Central Park and a group of elementary school students were leaving the Museum of Arts and Design. You caught your gaze on the broad clock of a prominent building and instantly there he was, coming from 8th Avenue.

You smiled, you were in the mood for fun and what better way than to open a portal right in front of him to get rid of Spider-man and send him a few blocks further south.

"Woah!" he exclaimed, stepping into the portal and disappearing, not for long.

You started laughing, he always fell into your trap and yet he was still funny to you.

"Hello Miss Holes!"

Within two minutes it landed next to you throwing a spider web which you dodged opening a new portal.

"Too slow, stupid spider," you said with a grin hidden under your mask. "And too predictable to be the mascot of the Avengers.

The two of you began a small battle on top of that building, as if choreographed.

"Hey!" he exclaimed somewhat offended, dodging a new portal. "I'm not the Avengers' mascot."

"Then why is it your turn to do the dirty work?" you ran off, shaking off his cobwebs.

"What...?" began Spider-man somewhat confusedly pausing over the rooftop antenna. "What dirty work?"

You let out a small laugh and in an instant you teleported to his side.

"You know," you began to lower your tone."Robbing old ladies, selling drugs in the neighbourhood - oh, you even helped a woman yesterday who didn't know where to find the underground," you squinted. "Spidey, you're so bored that the most exciting thing in your life is meeting me."

You were so lost for words that you didn't see it coming. In that instant a spider web, a bit slimy for your taste, wrapped around your mouth like a gag silencing your every word. You quickly tried to get rid of it with little luck.

"Thank goodness!" exclaimed your opponent alejándose de ti. "Much better. Sorry about that, but we'll be doing us both a favour."

You touched solid ground again, and raised your hands in the direction of the satellite dish, teleporting it in the direction of Spider-man, who quickly dodged it. From that moment on, your rage intensified, increasing the tension of the fight, which usually ended without a clear winner, only exhaustion won out.

"Woah! That was a close one!" he exclaimed, leaping ten metres above you.

Your throat squeaked, but no sound escaped because of the gag. You tried to get rid of it by teleporting it away, but it wasn't possible. At that moment you would have made it disappear forever if you could, but finally you stopped throwing objects at it, to disappear from there yourself.

It wasn't being a good day for you, maybe it also had to do with the fact that you were sure that your best friend didn't have to make any cake with his aunt May, nor did he have to accompany her to dance classes or anything like that, they were all excuses and you didn't know why he was making them.

In milliseconds you were back in your room, rummaging through your things to get rid of that gag and remove the mask from your costume. Nothing was any good. You had no idea what that spider's web was made of, but nothing could break it.

In desperation you tried again to teleport it, but you were unable to concentrate all your attention on it. You had only one hope left, Peter, he would surely know how to get rid of her, although you would owe him a lot more explanations. You closed your eyes, instantly you were inside his room, luckily he wasn't there, nor was he inside the house, everything was silent. So you assumed that he was not baking a cake with his aunt.

A couple of hours passed, just enough time to come up with a plan before Peter arrived.You had taken a handful of sheets of paper, you knew that when he came in he would be scared and might scream, so you summarised your story as best you could on those sheets of paper.

You heard the front door close, Peter was talking to May and heading towards his room. You took the sheets of paper and positioned yourself in the middle of the room, waiting for him to come in, as if it was the movie "love actually". It was an embarrassing situation. You watched as the doorknob turned and there he appeared.

It took a few moments for his eyes to settle on you, but at that very moment both of them widened like saucers.

"How the hell...!"

You quickly raised your hand, trying not to make your friend squeal or panic, and pointed hurriedly to the sheets of paper you were holding.

Peter closed the door behind him with a stunned look on his face.

"Please don't shout," he began, reading the posters in a trembling voice. "I'm not going to hurt you."

You dropped a sheet of paper on the floor.

"It's me, Y/N," Peter's voice dimmed, and it took him a while to react. "WHAT?!!!!"

You quickly raised your arms again in a way to stop him from screaming.

" Whoa, whoa, whoa!" exclaimed Peter again. "What are you saying?!"

Dejaste que los carteles se cayeran al suelo y saltaste sobre él intentando cubrir su boca con tus manos. En aquellos momentos estabas segura de que su tía May entraría en la habitación en segundos debido al ruido. Peter seguía gritando cosas inentendibles bajo tus manos, con sus ojos castaños abiertos como platos mirándote. Decidiste destaparle la boca, ya que no servía para nada y volviste a por los folios para ponérselos nuevamente frente a él.

“¡Esto es una locura!” se llevó las manos a la cara, pero continuó leyendo los folios. “Spider-man me ha lanzado una de sus telarañas,” cambiaste de folio. “Y no puedo deshacerme de ella, tienes que ayudarme.”

Peter stood still watching you, his eyes were red with nervousness and his nostrils flared every time he took in and released air from his lungs. You knew it was going to be a shock to your friend, but you didn't understand how it was affecting him so much. You raised your arms, quickly pointed to the spider web gagging your mouth, you needed to get rid of it and then you would give him all the explanations he needed.

A blushing Peter slowly approached you, stepped around you and in an instant you felt no more pressure. At last you could rest, your jaw and mouth were sore, but it was no surprise to you, what was surprising was that your friend had got rid of the restraint in a second.

Puzzled, you turned to him, who was still in shock and looked a little frightened. He carefully brought his hands to the top of your mask and slowly lifted it, exposing your face.

"I can explain," you said calmly. "I..."

"Oh my god," Peter interrupted you, sitting up in his bed.

"Listen," you shook your head and sat down next to him. "I understand your reaction, it's crazy, I should have explained it to you a lot sooner, but- Wait, how did you get that obnoxious fabric off me so fast?"

Peter put his hands to his head and sighed.

"It's synthetic spider silk," he explained without looking at you. "It's got the gigapascals augmented, with its web you can hold even a car in the air, but-"

"Wait," you stared at him.

Your mind worked fast enough to grasp enough information and connect it in a couple of seconds. You slowly rose slowly from his side and looked at him with a frown.

"What?!" you exclaimed this time. "That's impossible!"

"Yes!" exclaimed Peter getting up and holding his hands to his head. "That's what I was thinking! It's impossible!"

At that instant the door to the room opened revealing a smiling May.

"Peter yo - Hey Y/N!" she greeted with a frown. "I didn't know you were here. Are you staying for dinner?"

"Hi, May. No, no," you said quickly in a bit of a daze. "Thank you very much, but my mother's expecting me for dinner."

"Okay," she smiled looking you up and down. "Nice suit!" your cheeks took on a ruddy colour. "Peter, dinner in half an hour."

"Thank you May," Peter replied a little shyly.

His aunt closed the door again.

"That's why you were always making excuses for me in the evenings!" you reproached him."And the Stark scholarship! How could I have been so blind?" "And the Stark scholarship! How could I have been so blind?"

"I know, I know," said Peter, as he paced around his room next to you. "By the way, your powers - they're awesome!"

You motioned for him to lower his voice again. This situation was crazy, you didn't know whether to be relieved, to teleport, or to teleport him to a place far away. You leaned your back against the wall, closing your eyes so you could think clearly.He was your best friend, had you been hating your best friend all this time?He was your best friend, had you been hating your best friend all this time? He was your best friend, had you been hating your best friend all this time? Peter stood in front of you.

"Hey..." he whispered caressing your cheek, the place where your spider web had passed. "If I'd known... If you'd stayed a little longer I'd have taken it off."

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked up at him arching an eyebrow. "This is too much."

You looked straight into those brown eyes, they had been a weakness for you since fifth grade. Besides, his gaze accompanied with the caress of his fingers on your cheek lowered your defences.

"Please stay for dinner. If you want, we can study chemistry later," Peter said almost pleadingly.

"Really?" you asked in confusion. "You want to study chemistry after everything that just happened?"

"Truce?" Peter arched a somewhat hopeful eyebrow.

"You're one of a kind, you stupid spider," you said, unable to hide a grin.

"You stupid spider."

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(最后的厂牌 LAST CREW) His Story: [MAN ONWIRE] 周怀夜 Zhou Huaiye Translation Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

*Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Welcome to another round of Ran’s whims Evan brainrot, extended. *CEO man’s future tag will be #CEO ONWIRE *THEY RAP WELL!!!

"Before meeting you, he was the one who bore the name of [Hero]”

He never wanted to become a Hero, never expected to be associated with greatness. The wings of the Devil shields the night skies of the city, bestowing destruction upon the emotionless world beneath before light peaks.

The 24th of December, the Year 2100. Christmas Eve.

Dark clouds have hovered above the skies of 000 City for a good two months now.

A year ago, on this very Christmas Eve. The last Thousand City Conference of the 21st Century was going to be held in 000 City. Everyone present was overwhelmed with joy as they looked forward to the arrival of "The New Chapter of Mankind".

However, the emotions of this City have been concealed by the cold buildings all around on this night of the year. Every sliver of light is a luxury in this silent, pale, steel tomb of a City. And at the very top of it all, on the top floor of PAINK’s Headquarters, located at the very heart of the City——

Zhou Huaiye was waiting on an important document in the vast, but very empty office.

There was only a small light lit on the long table, made of solid wood, before him. He laces his fingers together, crossing them before him as he places his arms on the table, pressing the tip of his nose against his knuckles.

His usually sharp and indifferent eyes were now rimmed with red. Was it anger? Or sadness? His dark blue eyes were dark and clouded, as if obscured by dark clouds that would soon break out in heavy torrential rains and howling winds.

Zhou Huaiye swivelled his chair around, looking out of the window overlooking the City. All the pedestrians that made an occasional appearance out on the streets had emotionless faces.

He turned the ring sitting on his index finger, a little on edge. The sound of metal chafing skin was infinitely amplified in the deathly silence of the office.

⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹

The phone that sat to the side gives an untimely ring in this subtle moment of silence, sounding especially shrill to the ears.

Zhou Huaiye took one glance at the screen before closing his eyes once more. He straightened back up, turning the ring on his index finger back around to face upwards, and leaned back in his chair.

Gone were the pain, doom, and gloom, in his eyes when he opened them again. There was even a hint of a smile playing at his lips when he answered the call.

He crossed his fingers together, naturally resting them against the top of his crossed legs, preparing for the start of this important conversation.

"You're in quite the jolly mood." The man on the other end of the line, someone who had been deemed "perfect", took the initiative to speak.

"Several of the new drug production lines that I've had my eye on for a long time now will finally change hands tomorrow. They will be falling into the hands of the right people." Zhou Huaiye casually picked up the wineglass beside him, holding it up.

He appeared seemingly at ease as he laid back in his chair, but his eyes never once left X's face.

"I've also just heard of that piece of news. Hence, I'm here to congratulate you. Now, there will no longer be anyone capable of threatening PAINK's position in the Pharmaceutical Industry." X waved a printed document in the air on the other side of the line.

A hint of something flickered past his eyes, his facade was broken. However, he made no move to cover it up, only leaning back in his chair, taking a sip of his wine.

He then crossed both of his arms before his chest, expressing his dissatisfaction. “And here, I thought that my confidentiality measures were doing quite well in being infallible.”

X seemingly disregarded the hostility that was apparent in Zhou Huaiye’s voice, or perhaps he was deliberately making a display of his never-seen-before lenience and generosity.

“Our Emotion Suppressing Chip is based on your Gr-0. It only became a success thanks to your research and development it. I’m even willing to share with you our Emotion Suppressing Chip’s production methods if it means that we can avoid unnecessary trouble in the future.” “In light of that, do remember that we’re always comrades and not enemies.”

Zhou Huaiye aptly adjusted his sitting posture, calming his hackles that had risen with hostility by collapsing his hands back together. “Surely, you aren’t just here to congratulate me, am I right?”

“The congratulatory message is merely the icing on top of the cake.” X crossed his hands together, casting a scrutinizing look at him through the screen.

“If you are willing to join Zenith’s latest project regarding the upgrading of the Emotion Suppressing Chip...”

Beep beep—

The beep of the notification denoting a new incoming report interrupted X’s business proposal. Zhou Huaiye turned around at the sound, noting that the thing of utmost importance that he’d been waiting on had finally arrived.

“It’s Christmas Eve. Are your subordinates still working on the Eve of Christmas?” X’s lips curled in amusement, the reason behind indiscernible.

Zhou Huaiye made no move to hide or conceal anything. He openly clicked on the file, opening it up under X’s watch. This was just a compiled analysis report on the profits of a couple of the drug production lines.

“Well, I’m most certainly expecting to see more people coming by to congratulate PAINK tomorrow. And as for that new project of yours—”

Zhou Huaiye’s smile was reflected in X’s eyes; it was not only was it oozing self-confidence, but it was also a little conceited. “I have no use for the Emotion Suppressing Chip, so as to speak. It is of no commercial value to me, and neither do I wish to do any more of these sort of arduous and thankless tasks in the name of ‘public interest’.”

“Now that’s truly a pity.” X feigned his regret at the notion. “And here, you could have been a Hero again.”

“I’ve already earned the status of ‘Hero’ once.” Zhou Huaiye pointed to the financial report. “People will always remember my company, PAINK, and the ground-breaking contribution that my Gr-0 has brought to the Medical World.”

"I wish you success in your endeavours. And, a merry Christmas to you."

"Thank you." Zhou Huaiye smiled pleasantly at having received the reply that denoted the end of the conversation, pressing the button in his phone to end the call.

⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹

The pleasant smile that had been on his face disappears the very same moment X's visage does.

He reopens the document he'd just received earlier. Inputting a password revealed another two documents within the file. He opens the first one, quickly skimming through it. It was a sheet, packed full of information. The gears in his head whirled to life as he repeated the motion like clockwork, again and again for a couple more times, before he hit the end of the sheet.

There were many columns to the table that presented themselves on the sheet, detailing the most basic information of all individuals whose profiles had been recorded. They were of different ages, different genders; yet, they all had the same look of fear on their face, and the same hometown, TFZ-007.

It was the one and only area that the raw material needed to produce Gr-0 could be mined.

And the human experimentation that this sheet came from had also started at around the same time that the very same mining area was officially classified as a City.

Of course, it also coincided with the time when Zhou Huaiye, the pharmaceutical research and development genius, was promoted and placed on a pedestal by 000 City itself when he successfully optimized the production of Gr-0.

He tried his hardest to still the tremor of his fingers.

The sender, going by the name of “Nuts”, had attached an encrypted message for him at the bottom of the sheet. “The list is still being updated.”

The list was yet to be completed; and his sins, never-ending.

He lowered his head, harshly pressing his forehead against his prominent knuckles. There was something seemingly starting to protrude out from his back, rising and falling with his every breath.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling window before him laid the usual cold and bustling city. However, he bowed his head towards it in a manner that was almost humble, almost regretful.

Zhou Huaiye's jaw tightened, his lips pressed into a line so thin that it went white.

He cannot lose control yet.

He closed the first document and opened the second.

⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹

Only coordinates were written within. “127°16′E, 31°18′N”

Zhou Huaiye only realized that it was snowing out when he left PAINK's HQ.

The sereneness of the City in the snow faintly reminded him of how this holiday night used to go…

Whenever it was snowing, the lively crowds would flock under the array of colourful lights. The whole City, lively and alive, bathed in warm lights and dancing shadows.

However, in a year, all of that is nought but a mere distant memory of the past.

Zhou Huaiye let out a long and deep sigh as he turned and walked into the shadows of the City.

A black silhouette stands atop the highest tower in the City. Looking from the tower down below, 000 City was akin to a cold rock. The night turns the entire City into a black hole after the lights of a thousand over houses are dimmed, swallowing the gazes of anyone who dared set eyes on it.

The wind brings along a message; of the rumbling that was approaching, closer and closer. It reverberated in his ears, reminding him of how close his target is. And in another ten seconds or so, a huge transport vehicle made up of many hard metal cargo compartments attached to it comes into view. According to the fixed route in which it traverses, it should continue travelling at high speeds along the opposite transportation passageway after coming out of the airborne expressway.

However, under his silent gaze, the transport vehicle makes a sharp turn, careening towards the concrete pillars of the expressway. A second before the transporting truck made impact, the ground below the pillar suddenly sank to reveal a hidden tunnel.

Granted, the entrance to the tunnel sealed itself back up as soon as the truck went in, turning into hard ground with nary a flaw.

A pair of huge wings sprout from the figure above the tower. Black feathers flutter in the night sky. The cool lights from the City were like revolving lanterns, illuminating the devilish face of the man, caged within his black wings.

His face could not be made out clearly in the inky darkness, but he had a pair of particularly intimidating eyes. It was as if they held the darkness and sins of the entire world within their depths.

In just mere seconds, the gigantic black silhouette followed the vehicle into the tunnel.

⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹

Inside the tunnel, cold strips of light continued their never-ending extend forwards. The "demon" kept as close to the ground as possible to maximise speed.

Just as he was about to reach the end of the truck, the black wings suddenly retracted a little, taking the form of wings shaped to glide. The man slips under the bottom of the truck, his wings slightly fluttering as he slips himself between the ground and the undercarriage of the car.

When he reaches the head of the truck, he abruptly unfurls his wings to their full span, leaping straight to the front of the truck's windscreen from beneath the undercarriage.

Under the icy lights, he mercilessly attaches the hooks atop his wings onto the front of the truck, like a demon straight from the depths of hell.

The truck had no driver. But, those eyes, so sharp and piercing that it was almost inhumane, were firmly fixated upon the window, like someone who was staring straight at their deepest, darkest sin.

The car's windscreen reflected Zhou Huaiye's countenance.

His huge wings took to the skies, flying upwards. The hook attached to the front of the vehicle lifts the entire truck into the air, its wheels leaving the ground. The pitch-black wings flapped, lifting and pulling the transport truck along with it. Its tires were still spinning.

Then, he lets go.

The truck flies across the tunnel, crashing violently into the walls of the hidden tunnel. A raging fire was ignited as the truck exploded into flames.

Zhou Huaiye stretched out his wings, hovering above the fire as he watched the metal boxes of the truck get swallowed up by the ravenous flames.

Stacks upon stacks, boxes upon boxes; those Emotion Suppressing Chips born from his sins burned, under his watchful gaze.

Cracks had appeared on the outer wall of the whole tunnel following the explosion.

In the span of a mere 10 seconds, the pressure of the water outside made the entire tunnel collapsed upon itself. The strips of cold light submerged, sinking into the deep sea.

The fire was extinguished, and the demon straight from the depths of hell had also returned to its domain, disappearing along with the blue abyss.

Everything disappeared without a trace.

⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹

Zhou Huaiye now sits beneath the viaduct, where the river meets the sea, completely drenched.

Everything was so peaceful, it was almost as if the tunnel never collapsed. It was as if the explosion never happened, with how highly efficient the City continued to run.

He raises his head, looking at the towering bridge and the tall buildings all around him that rose to the skies. A sea of skyscrapers, threatening to swallow him whole at any given moment.

It was then that his phone sounded a notification. A message from nuts: "The transport route has been altered. Now searching for the new route."

The message automatically deleted itself a few seconds later.

Zhou Huaiye propped both of his hands behind his back, raising his head as he looked back above once more…

The snow stopped, and the light of dawn filtered down from the skies.

...Merry Christmas…

⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ CEO ONWIRE Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ◦∘ ━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

#最后的厂牌 #LAST CREW #Otome #Translations #APG GAMES #周怀夜 #Zhou Huaiye #MAN ONWIRE #CEO ONWIRE #Brave City

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edwardquill13 · 3 years

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10 Greatest Jordan Excursions & Vacation Packages 2021

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We lately visited the Tofino Hot Springs and had been blown away by the whole experience. The easiest way to get to Halfway River Hot Springs is to drive there from Revelstoke, BC, an amazing journey journey vacation spot. It’s about 90km from Revelstoke, with the last 11km on a gravel forest service street. If you get the chance to go to any of those fantastic locations, the most important thing to note is to wear darkish colored swimming clothes and use a darkish towel. The orange colour will get on your pores and skin and it doesn’t easily wash out of clothing or materials. Swimwear and towels are important and bathing caps are also required for the indoor pool. The baths are open day by day 6am to 8pm with the final entrance at 7pm. Hart Mountain Hot Springs is located in Southern Oregon within the Hart Mountain Antelope Refuge space, 67.4 miles northeast of Lakeview. To get to Bagby, follow Highway 224 to Ripplebrook Guard Station. 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Ring within the holidays with a month packed filled with exciting actions and occasions to make everlasting memories with household and pals in Dallas. Many used belts to either grab with their hands to pull themselves up, or to step in and use as footholds during the greased pole climb on the Jordan Fall Festival in 2018. Seven-year-old Natalie Walsh, of Elbridge, right, reaches out as she makes an attempt to climb a greased pole on the 2016 Jordan Fall Festival. A crowd watches as members of the team Division Three tackle the greased pole climb contest during the 2014 Jordan Fall Festival. Pat Ely, of Elbridge, struggles at the backside of his team’s first try on the greased pole climb at the Jordan Fall Festival in 2010. Their staff, Last Chance, received the men’s division with a top of 24.5 toes. Shop In Amman, Jordan Typical Souvenirs Of The Nation Stock Photograph Qadeem Showroom ItemsAnother nice pottery design studio near 2nd circle is Qadeem. They sell plates, bowls, and low sets amongst different fascinating objects. The ceramics studio combines fantastic pottery with vivid colours and great designs. Stroll within the traditional downtown space providing cheaper merchandise and a cultural expertise, and one of the final place the place you'll be able to try your bargaining abilities in Jordan. Or seek for the most recent fashion in designer boutiques in Shmeisani or Abdoun. Here’s what to search for when purchasing for a bit of Jordan to take residence. Rugs, wall hangings, and pottery sit on display in a memento store in Madaba, Jordan. Although the Greeks and Italians would possibly tell you that their olive is the most effective, Jordanian olive comes pretty close to being probably the greatest around. Indeed a bottle may fetch you a pretty penny, but when you try some Ajloun olive oil, you’ll understand why. Ajloun is an space in Northern Jordan known for its olives, and the freshly pressed stuff is what you’ll want. 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#PBN-Home

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butterfly-winx · 4 years

Text

Zenith

- Do you know about Zenith? No? I mean you own a computer so you must. I hear the whole planet is covered in one large city.

- Zenith lives up to its name, as it is regarded to be the home to the height technological development in the Magic Universe. It houses the more universities, research institutes and engineering testing fields on its tiny surface than Magics and Earth combined.

- Though it is true that the planetoid is covered with a seemingly uniform cityscape, there are patches of untended ground peeking through, mainly the polar seas. Antitheva and Bitheva may only classify as large lakes elsewhere, but they are perfectly fit for a small planet of Zenith’s size. They even help populations of merfolk at some point in time.

- The overwhelming amount of construction covering the planet’s surface has long become its vice. With no reflective surfaces left and with machinery forced to operate day and night to fuel the latest technological advancements, the whole planet has become a singular heat trap. The seas were boiling and the air was unbreathably hot. What got research going however was the failing performance of their heavy duty machinery, screws sweating and bending out of shape, lasers blinking tired and unfocused. They devised a plan to cool down the surface of the planet by releasing agents to shield them from the thermal effects of solar rays, and achieved the impossible. Zenith’s climate has since then settled on a comfortable average of 250 K.

- The seas froze over and the merpeople disappeared - or maybe they did already during the boiling phase, out of their luck living off already dead fish. Urban development was given final approval and the last patches of earth disappeared from sight, buried under the striving for more.

- Despite its aforementioned properties, Zenith is no monolith and it would be amiss to describe it as such. Zeniths countries and cultures are diverse, only connected by their burning need for advancement and their fight against the cold. They have a spectrum of governance forms in the different countries ranging from democracy, constitutional monarchy to representative republic and in some cases even direct democracy of people.

- As cities cover all of the planet, it is difficult to determine where individual settlements in a country begin and end. Country borders are the only demarcations, each government shielding itself with force fields, trenches or physical walls from imagined spies and malevolence.

- Techna’s home of Haikar is in a country that still tries to honour the memory of the separate settlements that have melded together. So Haikar is not a separate town as much as it is just a borough with its own town governance, and is considered to be the capital of Transjordan.

- Other Zenith country names with capitals where applicable: Tribilisi (Kandu), Gorgan, Nuzul (Xihat), Tbaku, Navyol, Urzghar

- Most of these countries don’t get along with each other too well. As is understandable, seeing as they are very culturally diverse. Each wants to be the best though and their most bitterly fought battles are usually over patent rights and the tenure of well-respected scientists. As banal as these reasons seem, as brutal are their methods of mutual sabotage to keep the leading edge.

- Transjordan unfortunately is quite small and has many neighbours, so their paranoia and battle readiness is markedly large even on planet. Growing up, Techna went through disaster and terror awareness training regularly, to the point where they could probably recite what to do in case you found a car bomb better than they could explain a simple recipe.

- Oh and are recipes important! As clean edged people think the inhabitants of Transjordan are, there is nothing minimalist about their food choices. They love combining spices and textures and always serve feasts with generosity rivalling Eraklyon’s. Deserts usually have some sort of fruits, nuts AND some preserve in them, the combinations endless.

- While it is true that for the most part, cultures on Zenith value a simple approach to things. If it can be done in a few words, why waste a sentence on it? Bureaucracy is usually a two-click-formula affair, their whole lives are condensed on a sigle digital display ID, shopping comes to you at home. Hell even marriages are just an affair of simple form signing.

- But food is where they really go full ham. It is not seen as frivolous to waste 10 eggs on a cake, because what you are doing creating nutrition and enjoyment. It is simply reasonable and efficient to go to the max when you do that and create an absolute delicacy you can gorge yourself on in one slice or less.

- So if they are so into feasting and enjoying things with purpose, what gives Zenithians such a bad name? Well, it is just that. People of Transjordan for example, like to enjoy things with purpose. They don’t really care much for music or theatre, they are just activities to air your brain out. They will import off-world made products, but there isn’t a lot of room for cultural arts on Zenith because they channel their passion elsewhere.

- Yes you heard right, Zenithinas have passion galore. They just, in the Universe's most efficient move, channel that passion into the work they already do. The majority of scientific discoveries have been made because somebody cared enough to look deep into a topic and push further, because previous answers were unsatisfactory. Children are coached to find something that inspires this level of devotion in them and have extensive education and support networks to get them there.

- On the topic of children: most of them aren’t the genetic descendants of their parents, rather a random selection from the common gene pool. The public gene pool is a hotly debated topic, but a long established structure of procreation that only the very wealthy have the option to contest. (There is a way to gain approval to sire an own baby from just the genes of two people, but it is extremely costly.)

In some research some time ago it was determined that for the optimal survival of people on the planet, genetic relation to the parents raising the child was not only suboptimal, but actively detrimental to overall population survival. In this “more civilised” approach, parents apply for a baby who is conceived and birthed in bioreactors. This way no people who can conceive are put through undue stress and the public gene pool babies also carry less hereditary health conditions. It is supposedly a win-win situation, yet it leaves a sour taste in most people’s mouth. No wonder less and less Zenithians plan families if that is the process they have to do it by.

- As straightforward as they are, Zenithians often struggle when communicating with people from other planets and not only because of arising cultural differences. Sure any Zenithian would blush and pale when forced into a situation dealing with overly expressive Solarians, but in any other regular case, the Universal Translation Spell is not on their side either. Jordan is a very logical and to the point language and the floralitiy of other languages is impossible to be transferred to it. The UTS instead produces blocky, difficult to parse translations that often leave Techna confused to the intentions of others.

- It is of course evident that the main industry of the planet is electronics production and R&D. Companies on Zenith produce all manners of gadgets, but they are best in creating refrigeration technology (ironic, right?), astronomic instruments, self-propulsion transportation (vehicles) and medical diagnostic tools and applications. The associated application programming industry is also booming with server houses the size of smaller cities. It is no surprise that Zenith’s electricity consumption is through the roof with such a vital sector to support.

- Before their trade for electricity with Solaria, Zenithian people used static electricity discharges to harvest energy. Their planet being covered with one gigantic city didn’t leave much space for utilising the natural resources of their planet. All the mineral ore having been exhausted, no major flowing waters left and stranded with miserable and cold weather the options for energy sources were limited. What they had however was tall buildings and thunderstorms, so they used lightning harvesters for ages.

- With the storm and snow clouds obscuring the sky most days, Zenith is quite dark. The cities illuminate themselves, kind of like year round festive ornamentation.

- Spirituality is an interesting topic on planet that everyone you ask will have a different answer for. Major parts of Tribilisi and Urzghar for example believe in machine assisted immortality. They see machines as superior to biological matter and work towards the unfallability and omniscience of artificial intelligence in which part of their conscience will be able to rest after death. The predominant belief in Transjordan that Techna grew up with is that after death, there is nothing. Based on the theory of energy conservation, what one doesn’t use and convert into heat will be redistributed into the rest of the world. It is selfish to think one could hold on to any energy after death.

- Most people also don’t care for magic. Sure some magic users crop up among them here and there, but they most likely remain untrained. This is why Techna chose a school off planet to pursue their passion and why they weren’t claimed as a Guardian fairy of Zenith after they graduated. (Since this position doesn’t exist.)

- Almost all things on the planet are solved non-magically accordingly. Their transport systems are unparalleled with some regions using small-distance whole structure replication, aka honest to god matter teleportation. The frozen over seas are also fully utilised with air cushion containerships cruising the flat expanse. Along a certain longitude Zenith also sports a unique feature: the longitudinal crust train. A four meter wide segment of the planet, as if cut out of the surrounding cityscape, moves on straight rails around the whole circumference of the planet. It is the fastest mode of civilian transport available.

- They need all the good transportation and radio transmission they can get - by the way, the Universe Wide Web is also a Zenithian invention, who would have thought - as with their living space limited, Zenithian countries have spilled over onto nearby moons, essentially colonising and terraforming those.

- So, you see, Zenith and either of its countries aren’t by far as boring as one might think on the first glance and most of them certainly don’t shy back from showing emotion.

#winx club #winx club zenith #zenith #just to clarify: zenith is the planet transjordan the country and haikar the city techna is from #repost because tagging didn't work with the last one #the bonus points for finding which town names I derived the Zenithian countries from is still on #butterfly fic #worldbuilding

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peach-jaehyunie · 4 years

Text

The Descent

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x OC, (minor) Johnny Suh x OC x OC, (former) Kim Taehyung x OC

Rating: 18+

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content, implied drug use

Pt. I

Words 4,263

Genre: Fantasy, Fallen Angel AU, slow burn

Synopsis: Vada spends her days working in a restaurant, letting all the desires of her true nature remain mostly unfulfilled. Where passion had once been in her life she is left with only half memories—secrets of her past that haunt her heart. A man with blue hair catches her attention he and his friend begin to ignite the feelings within her that have long been dormant.

You had known a man like that as a sophomore in college. He had been your dorm roommate’s boyfriend, and he had radiated an unfamiliar energy. He was ethereal and his aura pulled you in. One time you asked how he got the two scars on his back “I had my wings ripped off,” he joked. He was gorgeous, but one day he was just gone and your roommate curled up in her tiny bed to weep over everything Kim Taehyung had taken and given.

He had made you look twice when you had first seen him a month ago. He rode a bicycle and his blue hair ruffled in the wind, you couldn’t help but look at him—the ethereal beauty you had seen before in someone else. It had become routine to see him as you walked to work: he would fly past, his shirt billowing, sometimes followed by a hooded figure with downcast eyes on a longboard. Eventually, his eyes would catch yours as he passed: they were deep brown and calming, there was always a twinkle of hope to be seen in them for a fleeting moment as he sped by. You noticed days you didn’t see him, they felt slightly emptier and work would be lacklustre.

“Vada?” You snapped to attention as your coworker said your name,

“Yeah, sorry, what did you say?” You quickly replied as you went back to whisking a pastry cream twice as hard.

“Katerina needs to know what to put on the menu for the desserts this week.”

“Oh, um,” Devo had caught you at a bad time as you were daydreaming about a blue haired stranger. “I made a white cake filled with almond pastry cream between the layers and an Italian meringue icing; I have blood orange panna cotta setting right now, which will be served with a blueberry sauce...oh! I’m making trifle with the leftover cupcakes, and I’m going to make a chocolate cherry mousse and serve it in martini glasses.” You noticed that Devo didn’t write any of this down and braced yourself for when Katerina would inevitably come and nitpick your work. You furiously whisked in the eggs yolks and were relieved that the cream remained perfectly smooth as it took on a yellow hue. You felt as though you could probably whip up a triple batch of pastry cream in your sleep, so thinking about the two men that chose a bicycle and a longboard as their methods of transport in a hilly city like San Francisco kept your brain busy.

A handsome man caught your eye for a second as you walked home with your bag of groceries. His eyes met your gaze and you felt unable to turn away. A chill came over you and you felt that his eyes were enough to suffocate you in the crowded sidewalk, every step drew each of you closer together. You fought back a grimace as the street narrowed and the mass of people were forced closer together. You were able to force your gaze from him, but the stranger’s arm bumped into your shoulder as he walked past. The hair on your neck prickled, your stomach felt like ice; he felt wrong. You couldn’t shake the feeling of repulsion even when you got home and set your TJ’s bag on the counter and began to unpack it.

“Hey, Vada,” your roommate greeted you without even looking at you as she breezes from the bathroom, through the tiny living room, and into her bedroom before shutting her door. You could hear two voices through the door; Brian must have been over and now they were getting ready for a night out. You considered an evening spent at home alone: you weren’t much of a Netflix watcher, and a string of bad first dates had left you in a dry patch romantically. You couldn’t go out with Ana and Brian, because you had fucked Brian first and now it felt awkward because he wasn’t quite your sloppy seconds; he just mostly was.

You ate the dinner you had brought home in a to-go container from work; it was delicious and the flavours were balanced, an array of textures should have been enough to excite your palate, but tonight it felt as tantalizing as eating cardboard. You picked up a book; any attempts to read it failed as you continuously got up to scour the cupboards and fridge for anything attractive. You spent the evening fidgety and almost...hungry. It was an odd sensation, a mix of physical hunger; for food, excitement, sex—anything to pull you from the mundane— and an even deeper hunger: a yearning. You thought of the blue-haired man on the bicycle, a warm and pleasant feeling filled you. It was the exact opposite sensation that you had felt from the other stranger while walking home. A streetcar outside the window clanged and you rolled over in bed, irritated by its sound.

The next day the blue-haired man was not to be seen on the way to work. A somewhat familiar feeling of unfulfillment took hold of you upon reaching your apartment at the end of the day. While you got ready to out to a bar with Devo you remembered someone else filling you with that feeling before: warmth, hunger, and insatiability that you couldn’t describe. You flinched like a wounded animal when you recalled the sharp grip of guilt that had clawed at you in punishment for giving in to such base desires.

“Here, you look like you could use it,” Devo said, sliding you his Manhattan as he ordered another.

“A Manhattan?” You looked at him skeptically.

“Sophisticated; like me,” he immediately quipped “No, but seriously, what happened in the two hours since I last saw you?”

“I guess I’m just kinda bored and very lonely.” You take a sip of your drink, already regretting the lasting taste the alcohol leaves on your tongue and the cloying aroma it will leave on your skin.

“What about your roommate?”

“She’s out with Brian,” you weren’t jealous, or at least not of the Brian factor, but no one would have possibly known that from the way you gulped down the rest of your drink.

“The one you fucked first?” Asked Devo.

“Yes,” you replied with a laugh in his direction, “The one I fucked-first. I’m very generous that way, you know, bringing people together like that.”

You and Devo’s friend, Adrian (boyfriend, but Devo’s parents don’t approve and, no, he doesn’t want to talk about it) must nearly carry poor, drowsy Devo back to his little bachelor apartment. It’s tidy but dark; there’s enough room for two men in love as long as lavish amenities like oxygen aren’t that important to you. The only pieces of furniture are a bed, two bean-bag chairs in front of a TV sat on the floor and a table in the kitchen area that’s used as an extra counter when Devo is experimenting with a new culinary delight at home.

“Vada, let me walk you home,” Adrian tells you right after you two have put Devo in his bed.

“Sure, thanks,” you tell him. You like Adrian, but he proves to be a slow walker and a fast talker on the way home. He asks you what Devo is like at work—Devo is the first guy he’s gone out with since moving to San Francisco from Ohio.

“What brought you out here?” He’s young and curious: Devo is the mutual friend, but no one talks about your past because the parts you make public are boring and you keep all the gritty and smutty stories to yourself.

“UC Berkeley,” you sighed, but not audibly. “My dream school; I dropped out Junior year, first semester.”

“Shit, didn’t like it?”

“Nah, it’s a great school, it just wasn’t what I wanted at the time.”

“What did you do after that, I mean before working as a pastry chef?” Damn, could he walk any slower.

“Just kinda bummed it on what I had leftover from student loans,” Liar. Someone had gotten you a lucrative job as a stripper in a club off of Broadway. You thanked Adrian and quickly left him out on the street as you hurried up the two flights of stairs to your apartment. There wasn’t a sound from Ana’s room, but empty takeout containers sat on the counter illuminated in the dark kitchen by a strand of lights that hung above the sofa. Your mouth felt dry as your senses were suddenly overcome with the bass of loud club music and a hint of chemical cleaner to cover up the odour of spilled alcohol. Your skin felt sticky with sweat and your hands felt grimy from money—but when you opened your eyes it was just a little two-bedroom apartment in a house with a blue facade staring back at you. It was not special, it was not grand; there were fairy lights strung up and a half-dead cactus (too much water) in the corner. You could close your eyes and remember a room for special guests who wanted a private show...after they inhaled from a blue balloon they were too out of it to do anything more to than slip a hundred into your g-string.

That night you had a dream (or maybe it was a nightmare, but it wasn’t all bad) that you were back in your Berkeley dorm. You laid in the bed and felt warm and full, it felt like happiness but there was a dusting of excitement: a *secret*—which is sometimes just a cute word for a lie. Your limbs felt tangled and you could hear yourself whispering, which was strange because you felt that you were alone until Ally came in and saw you on your little bed and started crying as she shouted and threw items from her side of the room at you. She didn’t want your apologies—were they yours? The dream began to feel claustrophobic; Ally wouldn’t talk, only cry and push away any comforting hands and you could feel yourself standing there...were you apologizing? watching? All you knew was that guilt was suffocating you.

You felt him before you saw him. For the first time, you were aware that you weren’t the only one who looked at him as he passed by on his bicycle. His gaze was as welcoming as a lover’s kiss and his eyes still felt hopeful and warm. You thought (foolishly? hopefully?) that he only looked at you.

You saw him again the next morning and you brazenly returned his gaze: his eyes were like a deer’s, you wanted to spend hours staring into them because they felt safe, welcoming, nonjudgemental. His sharp jawline made your mouth water, but the small smile that broke from his beautiful lips made you feel warm and happy.

Devo came to where you worked in the kitchen to complain about the new line cook.

“Does he ‘Yes, Chef!’ too much for your liking?” You ask him with a straight face.

“No—“

“Oof, he reeks of Axe—“

“No,—“

“Does he have mutton chops like the last guy? Those were gross.” Devo often came to you to complain about the new staff. You enjoyed listing off his complaints about coworkers more than you would like to admit.

“This dude just...creeps me out. Like, he seems nice and everything, but fuck, this sounds ridiculous, I just get this really bad vibe from him, you know? It’s like bad...energy.” You stifled your laugh because Devo was so earnest.

“Well, I feel like I have to meet him now.” You say wiping sticky sugar from your hands and setting a timer on your phone.

“He’s nice! He just makes my skin crawl,” Devo nodded and laughed as he said this before heading back to his prep station.

“Behind, oven door!” You said loudly as you stepped onto the line to put a sheet of rolls on the oven.

“Oh, hey, Vada?” The chef addressed you,

“Yes, chef?”

“This is our new line cook, Johnny.”

The tall cook turned to you and despite having not seen his face before today you knew, you felt that he was the man on the longboard.

“Hey,” Johnny gave a small wave “Vada...I like that name, have I seen you somewhere before? You look really familiar.” He looked at your face intently for a moment before you spoke.

“Um, no I don’t think so. I haven’t worked at many restaurants before.” Being under his gaze felt like a microscope, but...it wasn’t a bad feeling. He shook his head as if to get rid of a thought.

“Well, it is nice to meet you, Vada.” Johnny offered his hand for you to shake. There was a strange and sudden internal pull when you grasped his hand and he must have felt it too by the way he smirked at you.

You couldn’t be sure that he was the longboard guy; when Johnny left work he left on foot to catch a tram. He was talkative and easygoing, behind his outgoing demeanour there seemed to lurk a sedate and tormented individual. You could only see it sometimes: it was there behind his eyes as he worked, sometimes it was written on his face for just a second before the jovial mask would return. Devo avoided him as best he could and Johnny (strangely) didn’t seem at all offended, regardless of how obvious Devo was.

“Drinks and staff night out at Gus’s tonight!” Katerina yelled into the kitchen as closing started. You quickly cleaned up your work station and grabbed a bucket of cutlery for polishing to help the servers get out faster. An hour later the group of you were turning out the lights and locking up, stuffing the split tips into a safe place to be spent later on. Gus’s Bar was a short walk and extremely casual and therefore suitable for a bunch of sweaty kitchen workers.

“First round is on me,” Katerina stated as she sat down at the bar and the old barkeep slowly approached while he was polishing a glass. He nodded and remained quiet as everyone placed their orders, never writing anything down, and began to make drinks more efficiently than you had ever seen in your life. The barkeep (possibly Gus) soon had a row of drinks up for all of you. As soon as Johnny downed his first in one go he exclaimed with a mischievous glint in his eye:

“Third round is on me!” He winked at you as you realized what that meant because no one had offered to buy a second round.

“I guess I’ll buy round two,” said one of the waitresses with a chuckle, her long, blonde waves shaking as she laughed. You felt pleasantly buzzed after round three, not really needing a lot more but also not anywhere near turning down an offer for another one. You ordered a whiskey sour—neat; this one you were paying for. You sat between Miles and Johnny at the bar: Miles was laughing at everything anyone said but paying you no mind because you just wanted to sit there and enjoy the feeling.

“I know where I know you from now,” Johnny spoke resting his arms on the bar comfortably.

“Oh yeah, where?” You grinned at him, unfazed.

“The Velvet Angel,” he said it loud enough that you knew you could only hear him, but you still felt that your heart stopped for a few moments. His eyes stayed on your face, but your thoughts raced and your mouth felt dry when you realized what this meant.

“How did you—“ you began licking your lips

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything—it’s our secret.” He assures you upon noticing your hands shake as you tried to bring the whiskey sour to your mouth. You looked at him, blushing at how kind and welcoming his gaze seemed despite the fact you felt nearly like drowning. You wanted to run away...but you couldn’t, not from Johnny. Everything seemed foggy, but you finished your drink and ordered another. Adrian came and you felt the brush of his hand on your back as he said ‘hello’ and you thought you must have said something back but you couldn’t remember. Miles fell asleep with his head on the bar as Johnny comfortably nursed a beer on your other side. Strangers came and went, and one by one your coworkers left until it was just the three of you—two if you considering that Miles was passed out.

“Do you know where he lives?” Johnny asked you as he finally finished his beer.

“No,” you had to clear your voice as it cracked from disuse. Why weren’t you more shattered, why did this not feel so bad to have Johnny know of your past life.

“I have someone in my couch at my place, can Miles crash at your place?” You wanted to ask Johnny if it was the blue haired man of your fantasies that was on his couch. That thought felt silly and hopeful, especially because you were nearly just operating off of a hunch.

“Yeah, I don’t think my roommate will mind. Wait—“ You grabbed Johnny’s arm as he moved to get up and, you thought, leave. “—I don’t think I can move him by myself,”

Johnny chuckled at your panic, and you felt your face heat up even more than just from the alcohol.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get him home for you; I won’t leave you.” He said as he gently patted your shoulder. Johnny went to help Miles up, but the young man turned out to be drunker than expected and your jaw dropped as Johnny picked up Miles easily and began to carry him out.

“Are you okay to carry him by yourself? That’s not what I meant when I said I couldn’t; I can help if you want!” You called after him, nearly tripping out of your barstool and trotting to catch up with his long strides.

“No, I’m fine, he’s light. Just walk us in the right direction.”

It’s quite a few minutes before you pluck up the courage to say anything to Johnny about The Velvet Angel. You choose your words carefully, wanting to keep the conversation lighthearted.

“No offense, but you don’t really seem like the type of person that would have frequented The Velvet Angel.” You finally say.

“A man?” Johnny joked after a moment. His breathing wasn’t laboured even though he was carrying another person up a hill.

“No, I mean, like that place had other stuff going on.” You began to feel uncomfortable, maybe you had completely misread him.

“Oh...you mean the private rooms and the balloons...well, I try to avoid that a bit now, but I haven’t always.” His voice was soft and low, you turned to look back at him and there was that sad tortured look again. You regretted saying anything.

“I think I deserve some credit for remembering your face, though.” Johnny suddenly quipped with a shy smile.

“Yes, that was very gentlemanly of you,” you replied sarcastically.

“It was the expression you wore on your face,” he began after a pause, “Some of the women...you could really tell that you were just paying to see their body, and some liked to play as if they were teasing you, but you—your face was that of a lover.”

“A lover?” You dubiously queried.

“It’s… You looked like someone in love, your eyes invited an intimacy if you looked closely enough. You didn’t look fake or cheap, it was all art and the beauty of love in your face.”

Your mouth felt dry, and your walking slowed down as Johnny spoke. Love, what did that even feel like? Did you remember, had you ever known it? There was a void where memories of feelings like that should be stored. All you could remember was guilt...disgust, remorse, and guilt. You had slowed to a stop without realizing it.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked, worried as he stopped by your side. You looked at him, unable to form a complete thought until the building behind Johnny took shape in the dark.

“This is my house.” You finally manage as you lick your lips and think to take keys from your bag. You unlock the main front door and hold it open as Johnny walks in carrying Miles.

“I live on the second floor, I’m so sorry,” You grimace thinking of him having to carry another man up the stairs.

“I said not to worry about it, Miles is light.” And he easily carries him to your apartment where Miles is laid on your sofa with a pillow from your bed and a spare blanket.

“Thank you so much, I hope you don’t have too far to go.” You tell Johnny as he walks toward your door to leave.

“Nah, it’s fine. It would be faster if I had my longboard, but I can catch a bus.” He shrugged.

“You have a longboard?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound too curious.

“Yes,” he turned to you and chuckled a little “But you already knew that.” He couldn’t see your blush in the dark. How could he have known that you suspected him?

“Vada,”

“Mhm,”

“If you ever want to meet Taeyong...all you gotta do is ask.” In the hallway, a streetlamp illuminated his face enough for you to see his grin and wink in your direction before turning around and trotting down the steps and out.

———————————————————-

The blue haired man is absent for the rest of the week, but on Saturday night you follow Johnny out the back door to shout after him:

“I want to meet him; I want to meet Taeyong.” Johnny sets his longboard down and pulls his phone out to check it before he answers you.

“Okay,” he looks at you with a slow grin, “I’ll find out when he’s free. Now get back to work, I gotta hot date I have to meet.” He winks at you as he gets on and rides off.

You feel giddy—butterflies like a schoolgirl when you get back inside the restaurant. You have trouble sleeping that night: trying to figure out every possible scenario as to how Johnny knew about your hunch; all the ways you could meet Taeyong, and imagining a first date in which you were overflowing with wit, intelligence, and good things to say; and also a terrible dread and anxiety that Taeyong was just some random person and not the man with the blue hair.

Your eyes are bleary the next day, the cookbook in front of you seems to keep going out of focus.

“Fucking shit!” You curse as you burn your hand on a cake pan, a silent stream of fucks threatened to be uttered by your tongue as you cup your tender wound. Disheartened, you peer into a mixing bowl of clumpy custard. It will need to be strained. Nothing is going right and you feel frazzled. You check the fruit purée in the freezer to see if they have set in their molds yet—they haven’t. You go up to the main kitchen and pour yourself a coffee with extra cream, avoiding the warmth of the mug with your burnt hand. It’s not a glamorous place to enjoy a coffee or a five-minute break, but the sun lights up the alley and even the dumpster doesn’t look too bad in this lighting.

He hops lightly off his bike as he reaches the alley corner, his frown is matched by your own. The hood of his sweater is up but it doesn’t stop the blue fringe from peaking out. He walks straight up to you with his bike, his frown softens and his eyes look like two inviting pools of melted chocolate.

“Is Johnny here?” He asks after a moment of you staring at him. You nearly choke as you try to speak and swallow your spit at the same time—

“Um, no he hasn’t come into work yet.” You finally manage after clearing your throat. The beautiful man’s frown returns and he almost seems to scowl at the back of the restaurant.

“He was off early last night, and said he was meeting up with a hot date.” You added, it felt rude but you were really unable to take your eyes off of him.

He looked back at you, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His expression was safe and inviting and you suddenly felt less bad for having been staring at him.

“He didn’t come home after his date, and I can’t reach him on his phone; so I thought I’d check here just in case.” His grip on the bike loosened and tightened. Finally, he shyly averted his eyes for a second before offering you his hand to shake.

“It’s nice to finally meet you; I’m Taeyong.” His eyes confidently search yours out when he says his name.

“I know—“ you want to slap yourself as the words fall from your lips, but your hand meets his and you feel a warm and familiar pull in your very core. “I mean, my name is Vada.” You blush as you stumble over the words.

“I know,” and a soft blush breaks out over his smooth cheeks, his grip on your hand never loosening.

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1011

1. Five facts about your current relationship OR five facts about your single life.

a) I haven’t been truly single in...around 6 years, so it’s been a bit of an adjustment.

b) It was my last day as an intern yesterday (but they hired me, so I’m staying after all, haha) and since I’ve felt like I gained a family in the last two months, I thought it would be okay to give professionalism a break and share what had actually been going on with me on my first day on the job, aka when the breakup was still fresh and I was still figuring out how to function all over again. It unsurprisingly surprised everyone and my superior said something like, “Omg it’s the [company name] curse; it’s so strong it broke you guys up before you even got hired” which got a laugh out of me.

c) I’m not interested in seeing other people.

d) Probably wouldn’t be, for a long time. My trust has been irreparably broken.

e) Seeing couples in public has now become annoying. I’m happy for them, but it’s still annoying.

2. Five facts about a past relationship.

a) I’ve known her since kindergarten, but we didn’t become friends till 7th grade and didn’t start dating until junior year of high school.

b) We were legal with her family and her parents loved me and I them. On the other hand, I was never able to come out to my family because she broke up with me before I could be able to do so.

c) She introduced me to vaping.

d) We were never able to truly travel together, which we always planned to do after graduating. The farthest we reached was Batangas.

e) She never knew where she wanted to eat whenever we were out, so I was mostly the one who decided which restaurant we were going to have lunch or dinner in.

3. Five facts about your mother.

a) She has always worked in hotels, which is great because it has always allowed us to get room and buffet discounts, heh.

b) Her family (aka my grandparents, her, and my uncles) struggled financially for a little bit when my grandpa lost his job when she was in college. When her friends would go to fast-food restaurants, my mom would always decline, saying she had schoolwork to finish. In reality she just couldn’t afford anything, and the only money she held was for public transport.

c) She is a little childish considering her age, and I cannot stand her petty tantrums. She was childish even when I was a kid, and I believe my emotional well-being suffered because of that.

d) She has a high pain tolerance and the only time I’ve seen her struggle was when she was getting a tattoo on the back of her shoulder.

e) She is also extremely religious and it especially grinds my gears when she gets hypocritical about it, which is just about all the time.

4. Five facts about your father.

a) He has only ever dated my mom.

b) He grew up extremely poor and at some point his parents actually stopped being able to afford his tuition. Instead of being kicked out, a few nuns who served in the school paid my grandparents a visit and told them my dad would be given a scholarship since he had good grades and it would have been a waste if he got expelled.

c) He was a dancer in high school, knows how to play the guitar, and he also apparently knows how to draw very well. There’s a lot I don’t know about him, considering he has worked abroad my whole life.

d) He breaks or loses his reading glasses once every few months. I know which parent I definitely take after.

e) I have never seen him cry.

5. Five facts about your sibling. If you have more than one, pick one. Or do them all!

a) She had problems crying in school until she was in around 2nd or 3rd grade.

b) She’s in college and is currently taking up digital filmmaking.

c) She’s the biggest introvert I know. I’ve never seen her be willing to do anything silly; not even with her friends.

d) She can’t handle spicy food.

e) Her main interests have shifted from Harry Potter, to One Direction, to 5SOS, and now K-pop. I believe she’s into Seventeen the most.

6. Five facts about your town.

a) The upper part of the city offers amazing views of the Metro Manila skyline, which has recently made the place a kinda popular nightlife destination.

b) There’s a lot of hidden gem restaurants here but because most people spend more time complaining about how far my city is and how difficult it is to get to than actually just making the damn ride over here, the restaurants stay hidden and uncrowded. Their loss.

c) Used to be massively underdeveloped for most of my childhood and teenage years. Now there are several malls and I can easily go to a McDonald’s, Burger King, and Starbucks right outside our village.

d) Because you basically have to drive through a mountain to get to the upper part of the city, it’s not the safest highway and fatal crashes are unfortunately common.

e) The city is known for its suman, except I hate Filipino rice cakes and this actually doesn’t do anything for me.

7. Five facts about your house.

a) It used to have a balcony until we had that transformed into another bedroom. So technically it is still a balcony; it just hasn’t had that purpose for a while now.

b) My mom used a little cheat in our dining room and installed a huge wall mirror. Most people visiting for the first time always note how much larger it made the room (and thus the house) look.

c) I live in a neighborhood where the houses are of the same model and look (think the Squidville episode from Spongebob). That said, balconies are included in all properties. When my parents decided to renovate ours and turn it into a room, so many houses slowly followed suit as well. It was amusing to see it unfold, knowing the idea undoubtedly originated from us. It was like a revolution.

d) We don’t have a gate, which irritates me to no end because it allows noisy neighborhood kids to just march and run around our property. Sometimes they even make it to our carport and backyard, ugh. :(

e) Speaking of backyard, the landscaping for it used to be a pebble mosaic designed to look like a swan. But over the years the quality deteriorated, so my parents to opted to have the pebbles crushed into tiny rocks and embedded onto the ground. I don’t exactly know what this technique is called, but yeah.

8. Five facts about your niece or nephew. If you have more than one, pick one. Or do them all! Skip if you don’t have one. I don’t have any, but I do have a godson so I’m going with him as I don’t want to leave any section blank.

a) He was born sometime in December. I honestly don’t remember when, loooooool. Worst godmother ever.

b) He’s actually one of my first cousins, but I guess my aunt saw something in me and wanted me to be his godson. I’ve been a terrible one, though; I’ve never bought him gifts or money or anything – to be fair, I was made a ninang when I was like, 14 or 15 lmao. But I can definitely make up for it now that I’m starting to earn my own money.

c) He’s the calmer, sweeter version of his older brother. His kuya was a pretty naughty kid when he was his age.

d) He mainly speaks English, as how most younger parents raise their kids these days. He understands Filipino of course, but he mostly communicates in English.

e) The last time I saw him, he was in the middle of a ridiculously adorable interviewing phase where he’d approach anyone in the family and start asking them a series of questions: what’s your favorite color? What food can’t you live without? What’s your favorite subject in school? Would you rather win $1 million dollars or know how to fly? It typically got exhausting after the 25th question, but it was so cute nonetheless. None of us have any idea where it came from.

9. Five facts about your education.

a) I went to a private, all-girls, Catholic school from kinder up to high school, and then moved to a public, co-educational, non-sectarian university for college. It was the very epitome of culture shock, lemme tell ya.

b) Some classes I had in my first school that might be uncommon in others have included penmanship (because my school has its own brand of cursive), environmental education, and I don’t remember what this next class was called anymore but we were basically taught how to write professionally? Like how to write cover letters and resumés and all.

c) My first school is extremely homophobic and went so far as to ‘hire’ spies tasked to check up on who’s been in same-sex relationships, list them all down, and report them to the guidance office so that they can be called one by one and be interrogated, and for the most part, pressured to come out. I don’t know if they still do this, but the younger batches are definitely more vocal and woke now thanks to social media and I doubt those practices would still fly today.

d) My university education was a breath of fresh air. Suddenly people were wearing sleeveless tops, mobs and rallies were a common sight to me, and my instructors were now atheist and not shoving Catholicism and Jesus and salvation down my throat. I loved every single day of it.

e) The most interesting class I took in college was a course called Pornography in Electronic Media, under the broadcast communication department. Getting to tell people I take a class where we sit down to watch porn was such a fucking ride.

10. Five facts about your job.

a) I got hired last Wednesday, but I had been interning for the company for around two months before they extended the offer.

b) I’m pretty much gonna be doing the same things I did as an intern, except I’m now accountable for any boo-boos I make HAHAHAHA. Also, I’m gonna be paid a lot more, obviously, which is sweet. I really thought we interns were severely underpaid considering the work that we help with on a daily basis.

c) My role is going to be with another department which is a little scary because it means the things I learned with the department I actually interned at will be pretty much useless. I’ll be starting from scratch again, but I’m still excited.

d) It’s a work-from-home situation, which is a relief for me because I don’t have to wake up early and I don’t have to face traffic.

e) My job interview for the position was actually a bit of a bomb because I absolutely fumbled with and messed up the first question I was asked; and since first impressions matter, I really thought I lost the gig from the very start of the interview. I made up for it as the interview continued and fortunately was able to break the ice and build a rapport with the team members who spoke with me, and I guess I did enough for them to want to take me in anyway.

For those who are curious, I blanked the fuck out when they asked “Tell me something about yourself that isn’t in your resumé.” Slowest 15 seconds of my life.

#survey #surveys

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wotnahq · 4 years

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Lucy Marie Cage • 26 • Female (she/her) • Metahuman • Astral Manipulation • Civilian

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNINGS: STRONG VIOLENCE, BLOOD AND GORE

Lucy was born to Alec and Bianca Gale on 17th June 2019 in the city of Charlotte, North Carolina. She was the second child of her family, and the only blood descendant of her parents: Brendan, her older brother, was adopted before Lucy was born; Felix and Harriet, the twins among them, were adopted together when lucy was 2; Lily was fostered when she turned 8, shortly after Lucy’s 13th birthday. Cora was the eldest, a runaway from an abusive family - she sought shelter in their home, and ended up staying to become part of the family. Their father worked as a history professor at Queens University of Charlotte, while her mother was a secretary for a law firm, and so they lived in a large apartment near the city centre.

Despite their wealth, Alec and Bianca attempted to provide their children with as ordinary a life as they could. The siblings were sent to a nearby public school, where Lucy’s kind nature made her extremely popular, and her diligence for study propelled her through elementary and middle school. She was even offered a scholarship for a prestigious private highschool when she was 13. Although she would be attending a different school to Cora and Brendan, she jumped at the opportunity - taking a particular shining to the theatre and dramatic arts classes, she quickly found her niche and settled into the routine relatively quickly. The variety there astounded Lucy: she was part of the training group for cheerleading and played for the girl’s basketball team, but especially loved the opportunity to be a part of the school production that year. The time commitments placed a heavy strain on her, although she ensured she kept the stress and panic away from her family.

Three weeks before her 15th birthday, Lucy was woken up in the middle of the night with an excruciating burning sensation on her arm. In front of her eyes, a transparent black rune scorched itself onto her flesh, and she quickly showed it to her parents. Alec was confused, but Bianca already knew, from her position as a secretary, about the stories of the Metahumans that had recently begun spreading after an incident on the east coast. She knew in her heart that her daughter was another one. Initially she wanted to take Lucy for tests, to see if she was in danger, but Alec convinced her to give it time. Lucy herself was scared of the pain, as the rune burned like oil against her skin, but after seeing the panic and fear in her mother’s eyes, she did her best to keep a brave face and hold it in. It wouldn’t last long.

A year passed. Time revealed a dramatic alteration to Lucy herself: she became angry, hateful, and confessed to her parents that she had urges to hurt and even kill people. These initial shifts were contributed to her natural development, however the increasing urges were never diagnosed properly, even by mental health professionals. Although her parents were prepared for Lucy to change over her growth, especially with her differences, it quickly escalated - anger turned to threats, threats turned into violence, and violence turned to danger. Her father ended up locking her into a modified cell he had been building in a back room of their apartment, and there she remained for 5 years. The family claimed whenever necessary that Lucy was busy most of the time, which many believed after her dedication to work growing up, and all the while they kept her in the cell to prevent her from lashing out, with almost daily visits from her siblings and parents in her calm periods. Lucy would read books, play video games, and try to let them see that she was the same girl she’d been years ago, but keeping up such a façade became more and more of a challenge for her skills. The solitude of her new life - no more school, no more friends, no more nothing - combined with the violent thoughts and hatred that had spawned in her head began pushing her further and further from the girl she once was, and yet she kept it suppressed to convince her family she was okay.

On the night of her 22nd birthday, Lucy’s increasing talent for manipulation and acting paid off, and she was finally let out of the room to celebrate with her family. But this was the first time she’d seen the life they led without her, and it only fuelled her anger - how could they keep her trapped in that tiny room for years, while they lived like nothing was wrong? Did she, their own daughter and sister, mean so little to them? Nevertheless, keeping up her act of 5 years, she managed to get through the night, and stashed the knife they used to cut her birthday cake down the side of her boot before she was locked up again. The experience of that night brought back her happiest childhood memories, and she began to have second thoughts about her plan, but the later the hour became, the more those thoughts morphed into hatred: her childhood, a time that could’ve been filled with joy, was stolen from her by the ones who promised to give her the best life possible. They had promised her they’d never hurt her, that they’d do what they had to to protect her, but locking her up was not what they’d had to do. It was what they’d wanted to do. And she needed to make them pay.

Lucy used the knife to crack the lock of her cell and initially returned to her old room, to find that Cora had now moved in. Her bedroom, completely erased of her memories and made up for a girl who didn’t belong. The anger flared in her and buried any remaining hesitation lacing her heart, and after pinning the sleeping woman to the bed, she began garrotting her using wiring from the utility cupboard. The struggle didn’t cause her to think twice, she felt no guilt hearing Cora struggle to breathe, and she continued to slice the wiring deeper into her flesh. But it was now that Lucy finally discovered the purpose of her powers: as her sister ran out of oxygen, the essence leaked from her lips and curled up like a mist, and Lucy unwittingly breathed it in. Her adrenaline, her bloodlust, shot through the roof, and hatred overwhelmed the only human elements she held in her heart - her newfound strength turned the wire into a blade, removing Cora’s head under her push. Blood coated her hands, pouring across the sheets, and black mist poured from the parted lips of the head, filling Lucy’s lungs. It made her feel more powerful than she had ever been, but more importantly, it gave her the strength to decide that Cora would only be the first to die that night.

Each of her siblings fell victim to her one by one. Brendan was next, and a knife through the throat put him down quick enough. The twins would be harder, as one would attempt to save the other if Lucy was too loud, and so she slit each of their throats, leaving them to bleed out in mere seconds. And Lily… poor little Lily. Lucy would have fun with her. She nudged the girl awake, ensuring she hid any of the blood that dyed her hands, and let her give the killer one final tight hug. She soon lay in her bed, knife wounds dotting her stomach and chest, her eyes devoid of life. Lucy’s lungs were filled with each of their essences, her rune now pulsating on her skin, and her parents were next. She remained silent entering their room, and soon had her mother at knifepoint, drawing drips of blood as she taunted Alec to his feet. Every plead that the man made, every grovel, just pushed Lucy to realise how truly pathetic he was - he’d stolen her childhood because of his fear of what the girl could become. And now he saw how sadistic she could be: she slowly slit Bianca’s throat, absorbing every drop of essence, and let the bleeding corpse fall onto their bed. For Alec the knife wouldn’t be necessary, so she dropped it and pounced at him to pin him to the wall, her hands locked around his throat. Her transformed eyes finally revealed to him the last traces of his true daughter - dark, hollow, filled with nothing but hatred - before she snapped his neck. His essence was the strongest from the overwhelming pain and fear he’d felt in his final moments.

Now came the complex part: disposing of the bodies. A burial would raise suspicion and open Lucy to witnesses, so a crude disposal might be necessary. Only a few miles outside of the city was an old abandoned meat packing plant, and so every day, one by one, she transported the bodies to the plant to dump them into the grinder, smuggling them into the car Alec’s keys unlocked by stashing them in her gym bag when she left each day. Within a week her family’s bodies were disposed of, but even after the month ended, she felt not a tinge of guilt or sadness for what she’d done: finally she was allowed to feel the sun again, to leave her apartment, and if that meant she had to eliminate the obstacles, so be it. Lucy finally understood what her power was and what it could do, and she knew it was all that would keep her going now. The strength, the power, the control, it all flowed from the rune she’d once considered a curse and that had changed her life, and she had to keep it satisfied. But to do that properly she’d have to find a new home.

Lucy allowed herself a year to readjust to life, and over that year, she heard of the Nephilim’s attack on Pansaw, California. The organisation had quickly dropped into hiding, but their motivations sparked a thought in her head: what if her parents had only done it because she was a Meta? What if it was only for her differences? She managed to get access to her father’s money, which would help to maintain the façade that he was still alive, and used it to fund her identity change and facial surgeries, transforming her into Lucy Cage. Two months later, with every trace of blood and flesh cleaned away, Lucy called and organised removalists, and soon her family’s apartment was nothing but an empty shell, waiting for the next group to move in. She moved soon after to Pansaw, renting an apartment in Bostwick, and easily passed off her rune as a tattoo - nobody suspected her of being Meta, and there was no way she’d register with this new system. The Nephilim were right - they were the supreme kind, and humans would one day face a newly reformed Nephilim, with her as part of it.

By 2045 Lucy has settled into life in Pansaw - she has no work, but instead extorts and steals from victims she meets, and uses the money to fund her training in the dramatic arts at Pansaw University. A variety of disappearances and gruesome murders by a seemingly nonexistent killer have earned her the nickname of Ghost in the media, but now trained in her abilities, Lucy is in little to no danger of getting caught. She’s a new girl, with a new personality, new career, and new life, and no human will lock her or her kind up again - if they ever dared to try, she as a Metahuman would slice them down like she’d done to her family. She’s done it once, what could stop her from doing it again?

POWERS

ASTRAL MANIPULATION: Using essence harvested from dying souls, Lucy can create, shape and manipulate astral energy, allowing her instantaneous manipulation over the astral plane. She can interact with and see spirits, make spirits visible to others, tear holes in the barrier, and potentially even harm or kill the living utilising the spirits that cross. She can manipulate her own physical form and cross between the planes, allowing her movement and combat enhancements, as well as increase her strength and endurance using a liquefied version of essence.

WEAKNESSES

Her actions and powers can be suppressed, nullified, or reversed by other Astral Manipulation users. Steady source of essence is required for any and all powers. Very low levels of essence causes extreme grogginess, slower reaction times, and lowered coordination of any kind. Requires consistent concentration to maintain Astral Pain Suppression, Astral Attacks or Astral Phase. Concentrations of corruption, whether by natural cause or Lucy’s abilities, nearby in the astral plane has a severely adverse effect on Lucy when her rune attempts to absorb the excess as fuel. It then overflows into her physical form and temporarily causes extreme pain, as well as physical malformations.

PERSONALITY

+ Intelligent + Resourceful + Charismatic

– Fiery – Brutal – Destructive

#lsrp #mutant rp #superpower rp #oc rp #jena frumes #character #lucy cage

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the-asia-trip · 5 years

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Days 10-11: More Korea

There's a lot of things that have struck me about Korea, but chief among them is the hyper-commodified nature of everything. Japan has this too, but in Korea, there's a strange desperation to it. Every public space I see in Seoul is given over shopping. There's fake Supreme clothing in the gift shop at the DMZ museum. People love to buy things here, especially clothes. Especially fake designer clothes. The South Korean economy has long been lauded as miraculous, one of the "Asian Tigers." Still, being here, I can't help but wonder what's actually fueling it.

As I said in my last post, this is a society where the Cold War never ended. From an outside perspective, it feels like they're in the 34th year of 1985. That isn't meant to paint an overly negative picture, mind you. It's a very, very cool place to visit. The food is excellent, the scenery is staggering, the people are friendly, and there's no shortage of rich history and culture to immerse yourself in. There's not a lot that's not to like. It just so happens to be the only country on earth that's currently split in half, locked in an immovable stalemate with a mirror version of itself.

On my third day in Korea, I tried to get out of the city. I hopped on the subway for about 50 minutes and found myself in Mangwolsa, on the outskirts of Seoul. A 20-minute walk later, I found myself on a pleasant hiking trail dotted with temples, shrines, and Buddha statues. Apparently, fall in Korea is very, very pleasant.

After that, I headed back into Seoul to check out Seoul tower. Situated on a mountain in the middle of the city, it offers panoramic views of the entire Greater Seoul Area and was the perfect way to end the day. Sipping a beer on the observation deck, watching the city lights of Seoul come to life, I was reminded (as I have been at many, many points on this trip) exactly how lucky I am to be able to do stuff like this. To dispense with authorial voice for a moment—this whole trip has been really really really fucking cool. My wanderlust is, at once, sated and worse than ever.

After checking another box off my Korea list and eating some delicious dukbokki, spicy stir-fried Korean rice cakes, I headed back to my hotel to rest up for my last day.

This morning, I went to the border. You knew this was coming.

I checked out of my hotel at around 8, and met the touring company's bus around the block 5 minutes later. From there, we drove about an hour north of Seoul to Odusan Observatory, where the plan was to look across the Imjin River into North Korea (the actual border is currently closed due to an outbreak of African Swine Flu, which isn't harmful to humans but is a major concern for South Korean livestock). Unfortunately, it was too foggy to see anything, so we proceeded on to Imjingak Park, a kind of open-air museum/memorial to the events of the Korean War, about 20 minutes to the north.

The atmosphere at Imjingak was almost theme-park-like, not helped by the hordes of Chinese tourists present taking selfies and group photos like they were at Disneyland. A significant takeaway: South Korea really wants a railway through the North into China. Thanks to the DMZ and their notoriously-isolationist neighbor, the bottom half of the Korean peninsula has effectively been an island for 70 years, and they're very, very eager to change that. Various posters and installations around the park talk of a railway to Berlin, Paris and London. Obviously flying would be easier to any of these places, but it's the symbolism of the thing that seems to matter (and the reduced logistical costs of transporting goods by rail rather than shipping and planes).

Some highlights of the Park: a section of fencing where visitors can leave messages for the people of North Korea, a restored bunker complex, and a bridge that was destroyed during the war.

Once the fog cleared, we headed back down to the Observatory. There, through a pair of binoculars, I got my first (and probably last) glimpse into the world's most isolated state. Over the Imjin River, across a distance of about 2 kilometers, you can see into Amsil, North Korea. It's a small village, which my tour guide said is kept in relatively good condition since the North knows that it's the most that many people will ever see of their country. I didn't see any people, although a guy in my tour group said he saw someone walking between two buildings at one point. It's hard to gauge the whole country based on 4 kilometers of coastal village scenery, but on the whole, it felt pretty eerie.

We got back on the bus, and that was that. I looked into North Korea today. Again to dispense with formality, some real bucket list shit.

The final stop of the tour was the War Memorial of Korea, a museum dedicated to the Korean War (and every other war in Korea's 2,000+-year history). Among the highlights, a wall featuring the names of every serviceman who died in the Korean War, and an extensive gallery of artifacts from the war itself, from M1-Garands to PPSHs to a B52 Stratofortress that's parked outside the museum. Also present, hundreds of artifacts of past wars including a full-scale turtle ship, a kind of armored galley designed to repel Japanese invaders in the late 16th century and one of the most enduring symbols of pre-modern Korea.

After the museum, I grabbed a quick tonkatsu at a nearby restaurant and headed back to my hotel. I'm there now, sitting in the top-floor lounge, killing time before I head to the airport. Overall, I liked Korea a lot. I'd definitely come back here, although next time I'll be hitting up my Korean friends when they're not out of the country or slammed with work and exams.

Arriving in Korea marked the unofficial halfway point of the trip, and now I find myself around 2/3rds in. Tonight I head to Taiwan, where I don't really know what to expect. Japan is Japan, and Korea, I've always had a cursory familiarity with through Korean friends and the peninsula's influence on global culture. Taiwan is a blank space for me, though, in a good way. I'm not sure what I'll find, but I'm excited.

I won't get overly sentimental here about how the trip is almost over, because it's really, really not. I go back to work a full week from tonight. This point in the trip gives me a good moment to reflect on how it's all been going though.

So far, and I cannot stress this enough, so good.

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acuppellarp · 5 years

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Welcome (back!) to A Cup-pella, Jeanne! We’re excited to have you and Lacey Mikhailov in the game! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours.

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Jeanne, She/Her Age: 25 Timezone: EST Ships: /Chemistry Anti-Ships: /Forced

IC INFO

Full Name: Lacey Renee Mikhailov Face Claim: Abigail Cowen Age/Birthday: 23, October 30th Occupation: Baker at Snickerdoodle’s Bakery, cheerleader for April’s Showers Personality: Generous, stubborn, guarded, sheltered, ambitious Hometown: Sandusky, OH Bio:

Take one part warm Ohio summer nights spent chasing fireflies through wide open feels, two parts Sunday church services, three parts abandonment issues, and one part good, traditional Russian cooking, and you have the recipe for Lacey Mikhailov’s childhood. While she won’t go into too many details if asked about it, she likes to tell people that her youth was everything she could’ve hoped for, and to an extent that’s true. Would she have liked to have a mother who was present rather than someone who spent every opportunity away from home? She absolutely would have. But when Brenda Mikhailov got pregnant young by a man she met in a fit of passion one night, it laid the groundwork for what would be Lacey’s life spent with her grandfather as her source of emotional and physical support.

There was never an official discussion about Ilya raising Lacey full-time; it just sort of gradually happened. Brenda asked him to babysit for a day and it ended up being the whole weekend. She said she would take Lacey to her doctor’s appointment, and then call up Ilya last minute to say she couldn’t and he would have to. By the time Lacey started school, it was automatically assumed that her grandfather would be the one to sign her up and take her to her first day, something he did with a giant smile and about three dozen photos snapped and added to a scrapbook that’s still sitting on Lacey’s bookshelf to this day. When Brenda told Ilya that she wanted to “see the world” and move out of state later that year, there wasn’t even a question on if Lacey would be going with her or not. Brenda packed her bags and gave her daughter and father a hug, and then drove off without seemingly any second thought.

Despite growing up outside of the traditional nuclear family unit, Lacey didn’t want for anything. She never knew Brenda as her mother, so her loss didn’t sting much during childhood. Ilya wouldn’t let it. Instead, he would spend their time after he got off of work and she got home from school in the kitchen, showing Lacey how to sift flour and press dough to her heart’s content. Back in Russia, he’d been a baker by trade, and watching his granddaughter fall in love with it was nothing short of beautiful. Lacey always insisted on making homemade treats for her school’s Halloween and Christmas parties, and that’s when she came to love the expression on people’s faces when they first tried her creations.

When she as in middle school, her aunt Dory moved in to give Ilya a hand raising Lacey, and the three of them became a family that was thick as thieves. Ilya and Dory were at every science fair, church program, and poorly-played volleyball match of Lacey’s life and she couldn’t imagine it any other way. Last she heard, her mother had settled somewhere in Washington where she married and had three replacement kids whom Lacey has never met. She doesn’t even know if her step-father or half-siblings know she exists, but she tries not to think about it too much. If you ask her, she drew the best lot in life. She would express to her Aunt Dory (not her grandfather, never her grandfather — the last thing she would want is for him to think he was anything less than amazing) about how it hurt to think about her biological mother not wanting her, something that is still painful to think about even now that Lacey has grown. Dory would assure her that it was entirely Brenda’s loss, but that has never completely dulled the ache.

Losing Ilya was painful, but not entirely unexpected. Lacey was in her junior year of college at the time, earning an obligatory business degree in the hopes of one day opening her own bakery. Saying good-bye to the person who taught her everything she knew definitely left her feeling lost, and she wound up taking the following semester off of school because she simply didn’t have the capacity to give it the focus it deserved. To this day four years later, she still doesn’t really know what compelled her to go to New York in the first place. She’d talked it over with her family and friends, idly wondering if maybe a change of scenery would do her some good, and before she knew it her and her aunt were looking at flights for the East Coast.

It was originally meant to just be a vacation for the two of them, to help set a new pace now that her and Dory were learning to cope. But it’s like as soon as the plane touched down in the city, Lacey felt at home. They were only there for a week and a half, hitting up the city’s tourist traps as well as tracking down some little hole-in-the-wall places. Still, within the span of a few days after returning home to Sandusky, Lacey told her aunt she wanted to move out there for real. By the end of the year, Lacey found herself settling into the city, feeling both terrified and unbelievably proud all at once. Her grandfather had always told her to never hold herself back and being inNew York felt like the ultimate testament to that.

She finished up her last year of classes online and earned herself a degree in business, and was able to soon find a job at a bakery that her and her aunt had stopped by during her first visit. Currently, Lacey’s biggest source of pride has come from introducing a few recipes taught to her by he grandfather into the small business, which now offers a select range of Russian desserts courtesy of her. The next step is to actually invest in her own business, the same goal she’s had since she was little. Lacey’s vision board is filled with photos and inspiration to keep her focused on that goal, and every last bit of money goes into an account to help her get her feet off the ground.

Pets: Two cats with her, plus two more living with her aunt back in Ohio. The little babes in Ohio (Peanut Butter, or PB, and Jelly) were much too attached with her aunt’s dog and Lacey couldn’t bear to separate them. She adopted Eva and Zsa Zsa shortly after she moved to NYC. Zsa Zsa is definitely the more rambunctious of the two and likes to hide in places to spook Lacey (and now her roommates). Good luck opening a cabinet to not find her sitting in there. Eva is much more relaxed and introverted and likes to camp out on Lacey’s pillow, but she’ll wander out to ask for pets every so often.

Relationships:

April’s Growers — Lacey has an entire lifetime’s worth of love to give and was raised knowing the importance of giving back, so she recently signed up to join April’s little committee. She makes sure to give her fellow members nothing but support, but she does struggle when it comes to voicing her own ideas. She’s working on it though, and the more comfortable she becomes in the group, she hopes to be able to give it her all without hesitation.

Jemma Sterling — Coming from a small city, Lace way underestimated how much she’d be able to live by herself in New York. She was able to rent a room from a nice little Russian couple in Brighton Beach for a while, but ultimately decided to move closer to work and ended up finding a roommate in Jemma. She is… more than a bit intimidated by how open and free Jemma is with herself, and she’s seen more of her naked than she ever planned on, but Lacey can appreciate how to-the-point and amusing her roomie is.

April’s Showers Cheerleaders — Lacey loves spreading positivity and showering people with support, so when she first became aware of the little cheering squad for the soccer team, she jumped right in to join. She enjoys all the other ladies, and despite knowing almost nothing about sports, she’s trying to at least get to know them better and have them teach her the ins and outs of soccer.

EXTRA INFO

Lacey ♥ / mikhailacey/ Trying to save the world, one red velvet cake at a time 🍰🍪🍩 Five latest tweets:

@mikhailacey: When your aunt facetimes you just so you can say goodnight to your cats ♥♥♥ @mikhailacey: A little boy said I look like Princess Ariel today, no compliment will ever hold up @mikhailacey: Question for people who’ve ridden public NYC transport their whole lives: how? @mikhailacey: Is crimped hair still in style? Asking for a friend (read: me) @mikhailacey: I can bake marlenka in my sleep but I just burnt microwavable mac and cheese #sendhelp

#accepted

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tastyerrands · 6 years

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Normandy… A year ago

It was exactly a year ago* when my trip to the Normandy started: Five days of vacation spent in the northern coastline area of France that I can easily consider as one of the best vacations I have had. The weather last July was perfect for the visit: sunny with a sweet breeze. It rained when I was visiting Honfleur, but I still managed to enjoy every bit of the trip. Thinking of planning your next vacation? Let’s see where you can go if you decide to follow my steps…

Where to Stay

The Normandy region consists of several cities and villages on the northern part of France. If you have a car, it will be easier to move around the different places of interest. If you don’t (just like me), it is better to stay in a central area, easily accessing your destinations by public transportation (trains, buses, tour operators). My plan was to visit Caen, Honfleur, Mont Saint-Michel, and the D-Landing beaches. My friend, who happens to be French, and was raised in Picardie, recommended including Bayeux in my itinerary. I had never heard of Bayeux before, but after his recommendations, I read about it and found out it was the perfect place to stay in: a small city, reachable by train from the airport, perfect for walks, holding a bit of history in its tapestry museum, and allowing easy access to all my other destinations. And that was it; I booked my hotel in Bayeux!

There are different accommodation options in Bayeux. They range from guesthouses, to hotels and villas. I opted for a 3-stars hotel, “Hotel Le Bayeux”. It is perfectly located at few minutes’ walk from the center, and it serves the best homemade cakes for breakfast J

What to Visit

- Bayeux: This is the home of victorious conquests. Famous for the “Bayeux tapestry” depicting the conquest of England by the Normans, this is also the first town where the allies’ victory was secured by the Operation Overlord, following the German occupation in World War II.

Bayeux is a beautiful town with an old preserved medieval center, half-timbered houses, cobblestone lanes and watermills.

Its majestic cathedral, Notre Dame de Bayeux, overlooking the center dates back to the times of “William the Conqueror” the first Norman king to reign over England.

It was for the cathedral decoration that the famous tapestry was originally embroidered. Over 70 meters of length telling the story of the conquest of England in 1066, the tapestry is now registered in the UNESCO memory of the world register. It is now preserved in the Tapestry Museum in Bayeux.

Bayeux is also home to the Memorial Museum of the Battle of the Normandy displaying the advance of the Allied troops leading to the victory. It also included military equipment and uniforms. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough time to visit it.

For those who prefer a break away from the historical aspect of Bayeux, you can stroll the streets of the downtown “Vieux-Bayeux” up to the Botanical Garden, where you can learn about trees and plants following a trail marked by information panels.

- Mont Saint-Michel:

The Mont Saint-Michel is one of France most famous attractions, and a UNESCO world heritage site. We have all seen the picture of the island with its majestic monastery. What makes Mont Saint-Michel special is location is the tidal area. On low tide, you can walk to reach the island, but make sure to check the time of the high tide in order to secure your way back.

Visiting the island, walking its narrow streets up to the top of the abbey, and then walking back to the mainland while watching the water level getting higher, was all magical. But what made my day there even special, was sharing the day with 2 lovely American couples who made me feel like family. I dedicate this post to you Carol and Sandy, and I hope we will cross roads again!

- D-Landing Beaches:

Your visit to the Normandy is not complete if you don’t include the landing beaches. The tour I took there was very informative. It took us back to the period of WWII, tracing the details of Operation Overlord, visiting different landing sites, the Omaha beach, the American cemetery and ended in the amazing Overlord museum that displays the personal collection of Michel Leloup.

- Honfleur:

With its picturesque harbor that inspired artist like Monet and Boudin, Honfleur is one of the most charming towns and a popular summer destination. Stroll along its streets, visit its farmers market, enter its tiny shops, and savor its delicious food. It is guaranteed to have a lovely day in Honfleur. I was able to enjoy it despite the rain on that day.

- Caen:

Caen is the capital of the Calvados department. It features a port, a castle, an abbey and many more landmarks worth visiting. I only passed through Caen on my way to Honfleur, so I will definitely account for more time to see it, during my next Normandy visit. Caen is not the only city I couldn’t include in my planning. Normandy includes many more areas worth visiting like Rouen, Giverny, Deauville, Fecan, Etretat and Le Havre. That makes enough for another trip, doesn’t it?

What to Eat

Two words: apple and crepes. Well French cuisine is delicious all over France. But when in Normandy, I made sure to have as many crepes as possible: whether savory or sweet, you can satisfy all possible tastes. As for beverages in the Calvados area, they are mostly based on apples, so I made sure to have my share of apple juice during my visit. My favorite spots during that trip were:

In Bayeux:

- Restaurant Le Pommier: I had monkfish and brown rice

- Au Louis d’Or: All their crepes are delicious

- Le Comptoir de la Reine Mathilde: Awesome settings for a cup of tea and cake

In Honfleur:

- La Gambetta: seafood restaurant

- Maison George Larnicol: Get lost in their chocolate universe!

In Mont Saint-Michel:

Make sure to buy some cookies from “La Mere Poulain”. My favourites were the apple cookies.

My trip to Normandy was special in many ways, but it was mostly special because it was my first solo trip for a vacation. I have travelled alone before, but it was mainly for a business purpose. Taking the decision to travel alone to the Normandy was not easy, but I never regretted it. That trip made me realize that I can cross the path of total strangers in different unexpected ways, meet beautiful souls from around the world, and build nice memories that I will cherish forever. During that trip I met people who initiated me to changing my perception of things, appreciate every sweet moment, and learn that despite every issue we face, beautiful things can happen when we least expect them.

Happy travelling!

* I started writing this post in July, but didn’t have the chance to finalize it and post it till August.

#Normandy #Bayeux #Honfleur #Mont Saint Michel #D-Landing Beaches #WWII #Tourism #France #Trip #Vacation

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stainandaccidents · 6 years

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HOW I TRAVELED TO SOUTH KOREA AT 18 : FULL PACKED ITINERARY UNDER 10,000 PESOS

I always wonder how it feels to travel in a foreign country and get lost in it. Browsing through magazines and websites with travel pictures of the places we wanted to visit, we can’t help but imagine ourselves in those positions then suddenly realizing we’re broke to even afford plane tickets.

Money has always been the problem why traveling seems impossible for us, especially students like me who didn’t have a lot of money. I’ve always wanted to visit South Korea and I couldn’t be more disappointed whenever I think how broke and young I am to be traveling. However, money issues didn’t stop me from doing what I want. I’ve managed to save money and travel to South Korea with my sisters. However, the money I saved isn’t enough for this travel so I really had to budget it.

So here is how I traveled to South Korea at 18:

Plane tickets

Airlines drop seat sales and that’s how we scored our round trip ticket to South Korea. My sister got us a ROUND TRIP ticket which only cost Php 3,400! Imagine how much money we’ve saved instead of getting a regular fare which costs double or triple the price!

Accommodation

After booking our plane ticket, we started looking for a place to stay in. We chose to stay in a hostel because it’s way cheaper and closer to public transportation. We used the Agoda app to look for a good accommodation around Hongdae (Thriftip: You can get a discount if you book using their app). We chose Fortune Hostel and luckily got a good deal of Php 400 per person/night.

Hostels offer a variety of rooms: twin bedroom or a dorm type which are shared by 4-16 people. We chose to book a whole room since we’re a group of three. We would love to share a room with other travelers; however, the room itself is perfect for three people.

Visa Application

You may consult a travel agency to assist you in Korea Visa processing but they would charge you for Php 800-1,000. Since it’s the three of us who’s traveling, my sister asked me to complete all the requirements, which she submitted to the Korean Embassy together with the copy of our passports. After a week, we are able to get a passport with a visa on it.

(Korean Embassy is no longer accepting walk-in applicants. You may consult a travel agency to process your visa which will cost you 800 to 1000php.)

T-Money Card

When we arrived late at Incheon Airport, we hurriedly bought a single journey pass to get to Seoul because we’re afraid that it might be the last trip to Seoul City. With that, we forgot to secure a T-Money card and we end up getting stuck in the subway station for an hour. Good thing, a Korean couple who passed by helped us.

T-Money card is widely used in South Korea. It’s mainly used in the subway but you may also use it to pay for a taxi, bus, and convenience store. The card costs around Php 500 including a Php 400 load, which you can use for transportation. You can reload your card in the nearest 7-Eleven store and refund the remaining balance before leaving South Korea. I highly suggest not to refund it so you can use it on your next travel.

Attractions

We visited SIX attractions in a day. Yes, you’ve read it right, SIX attractions in a day and I think it’s a record considering that we don’t have a tour guide. Hongdae, Gyeongbokgung Palace, Bukchon Hanok Village, Comic Alley near Namsan Cable Car, Namsan Tower, and Myeongdong are the places we’ve visited.

a. Hongdae

We stayed at Hongdae for three days. The neighborhood is known for its youthful and romantic ambiance, underground culture, unique cafés, galleries, accessory stores, fashion shops, art markets and much more. It’s like BGC full of Koreans and is air conditioned. The street at night is very crowded and lively. Also, there are bars everywhere and bands performing in the street. The food in Hongdae is more affordable compared to Myeongdong. In addition to that, most restaurant staffs engage in English conversations fluently.

b. Gyeongbokgung Palace Gyeongbokgung Palace is the largest palace of all in South Korea. It is located at 161, Sajik-ro, Jongno-gu, Seoul. It is a must-see attraction when you go to Korea so it’s the first in our travel itinerary.

Entrance to the palace costs around ₩1,500 (18 and below) to ₩3,000 (adult) but it’s free when you wear a Hanbok. You can rent a Hanbok across the Gyeongbokgung Palace for ₩10,000 to ₩30,000 for two hours depending on the type of you like. If you want to save money, you can just go to the Bukchon Hanok Village and wear a Hanbok for free!

We rented our Hanbok just across the Gyeongbokgung Palace since Bukchon Hanok Village is quite far. Also, we had our hair done to complete our experience. They also taught us how to walk properly while wearing the Hanbok and how to behave like a Korean lady.

c. Bukchon Hanok Village

Our next stop was the Bukchon Hanok Village. This village is surrounded by Gyeongbokgung Palace, Changdeokgung Palace, and Jongmyo Shrine.

This tourist attraction features Korea’s traditional houses where you can wear Hanbok for free! There’s no entrance fee so you can roam around the village as much as you like. We just had to be quiet because some of the houses here operates as guesthouse, restaurants, and tea shops.

d. Comic Alley near Namsan Cable Car (K-Drama Filming Location)

This place is the only filming location that we visited since it’s just around Namsan Tower. There’s no entrance fee to the comic alley since it’s just an open area full of murals.

e. Namsan Tower

You have TWO options if you want to go to the Namsan tower. First, you may ride a bus near Myeongdong exit or may ride a cable car if you want to see Seoul from above. We highly suggest grabbing a taxi going to cable car station as it’s indeed a hike! The cable car ticket costs around ₩ 8,500 (one way).

We locked our own love lock as a proof that we’re there. I was a little disappointed as I’ve seen phone cases visibly hanging. It’ll be better if only locks were there. We didn’t have a chance to check the Namsan Observatory since the entrance fee was expensive; however, we enjoyed roaming around and taking pictures outside.

f. Shopping at Myeongdong

Myeongdong is one of the busiest places in Seoul and is among Korea’s premier shopping destinations. It is where you can shop cosmetics for a really low price! Plus, we bought our ‘pasalubong’ and souvenirs for ourselves here. I enjoyed walking around not because of the makeup stores, but because a lot of food were screaming at me! Street food here is quite pricey compared to the ones in Hongdae yet by just looking at it, I’m already full.

I’d like to try the eel and the octopus (both costs ₩10,000 per order which is almost Php 500) but just like I said, I need to save money if I still want to go home so I ended up buying Eomuk (fish cake) again, Ddeokbokki, spicy chicken, hotdog French fries and a melon. The fish cake in Myeongdong is triple the price of the ones in Hongdae! I bought the fish cake in Hongdae for ₩500 (2 pcs) and when I bought it in Myeongdong, it costs ₩1,500 for 3!

g. Woollim Entertainment

The following day, we visited the company of K-Pop boy group INFINITE to complete the whole South Korea experience! Woollim Entertainment was just a walking distance from the subway exit and we’re able to find it in just 30 minutes. Since we arrived early, we didn’t get a chance to buy a drink at NIT coffee, which is also owned by Woollim Entertainment.

So here’s my expense breakdown:

There’s a quote “If there’s a will, there’s a way”. Before purchasing the ticket, my sister asked me several times if I can pay for it. I didn’t say “I can’t” because I knew that if I put my mind to it, I’ll be able to save money and pay for it. Our ticket was booked six months before the travel date and I had plenty of time to budget my ‘baon’ (allowance) and earn additional income through selling hair clips and stickers. It was a difficult journey as I must give up some leisure activities that I used to do (watching movies and impulsive buying of magazine and albums). I also brought packed lunch that’s actually better than cafeteria food. Nevertheless, it all paid off.

Disclaimer: All photos are mine unless stated.

#travel diary #travel #south korea #korea #seoul #seoul searching #travel blog #budget travel #budget #cheap travel #cheap #bucket list #bucketlist

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wendynerdwrites · 6 years

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Jonsa Smut Week Day One: Performance

For @jonsasmutweek Day 1: Try something new or teasing.

Late 19th Century Western AU. Sansa’s a burlesque-ish ingenue, Jon’s her bodyguard/bounty hunter. For his birthday, Sansa decides to make Jon part of the show.

Jon’s witnessed Sansa’s show at least a hundred times by now, used his fists during a few as well. The life of a “bodyguard”. Never his Colt 45’s, of course. He’s a bounty hunter, not an outlaw, and he can’t scare off her audience, especially if they’re ever going to draw out their mark. But it’s always good to keep them visible enough so lads remember to behave, keep their hands to themselves. Sometimes, someone had just one too many and forgot this little rule, and Jon had to step in.

Well, punch in, really. Sansa was sometimes the one who “stepped in”, quite literally. She has a total of seven costumes, and each one comes with a matching pair of steel stiletto heels that Mya sharpens regularly. The first time he saw them in action was in Harroway’s Tower, Arizona. A fresh young soldier boy took a twirl about the neck of her boa as an invitation to grab her by the waist and yank her into his lap. He had a pair of heavy duty, brand new army issue boots, built to withstand the worst of the desert. Sansa shoved it right through the top of his boot. The soldier went red faced and rigid, and when she pulled her heel out, a bit of blood leaked out of the hole. She’s used the giant pins for her head dresses too.

Granted, there’s only so much footwear and hat pins can do if you’re in the really rough sort of place where the other patrons will join in harassing a lady. Sansa’s got sharp accessories and an even sharper mind, but Jon was a State Trooper, an army captain, and was personally taught to box by Jeor “The Old Bear” Mormont. As a bounty hunter especially, he’s built up a reputation for himself, and he always makes a point of being seen entering a town with Ghost by his side. He’s as known for being a tough customer as Sansa is for her show, and he’s got the training and the muscles to back it up.

He’s on edge tonight. Not because the crowd is unsavory --- she’s playing the San Francisco Stage Port tonight, a proper, city, high-end establishment with a real stage, paneled walls, a full band, and all the patrons are expected to don their Sunday best. Her biggest show yet. The sort of venue that would never host a show like hers back East. Thank God for the West Coast, where the heat, open air, and less rigid society made everyone a little more… permissive.

The sort of place folks go to dine, even the wives come along and enjoy the show, laughing and playfully swatting at their husbands for drinking in the performers, pretending not to admire the ostrich feather fans. The audience watches from candle-lit tables with white linen cloths or from a lacquered paneled bar at the back. Sansa has a real dressing room and doesn’t have to change in a coach or tent behind the building, Mya has broken out the scenery for the stage, while Myranda got to distribute the sheet music to the band.

Jon’s on edge tonight for a pretty stupid reason --- it’s his birthday, and no one has said a word. It’s nonsense, really. He’s thirty-three years old and his last eight birthdays have gone uncelebrated. Bounty hunting isn’t the sort of trade that often lets a man settle down long enough for any sort of occasion, let alone keep track of the date. Five times in the past eight years he’s gone his birthday not even realizing the date passed until he stopped over into a town with a well-watched calendar a week later.

He doesn’t even know when Myranda or Mya’s birthdays are. For all he knows, theirs have passed uncelebrated since he joined them. Maybe it’s just not the girls’ way these days.

But it’s a pity, if so. Jon remembers growing up with Sansa at Winterfell Estate, the cakes and parties they’d had whenever someone gained another year. Sansa always made a fuss. She loved planning parties, like the perfect debutante-to-be she was. Growing up, Jon would sometimes get mocked by the boys at school for being the bastard son of a ruined woman, not having a father and carrying his ruined Mother’s name. But it was his birthdays that gave him the strength to brush that sort of thing off, because Stark birthdays proved over and over that he had a proper family, no matter what anyone said.

Of course, that’s ancient history now, isn’t it? That was back before the family was ruined, before Mr. and Mrs. Stark, Mama, Robb, and Rickon were lost. Before Jon’s no-good Father burst into his life and tried to drag him off to be a proper Targaryen heir. Before the army. Before Littlefinger. Jon looks back on those days with fondness, but maybe for Sansa, it’s just pain she feels. Jon left the Stark house and became a railroad heir and ran off by choice, master of his own fate. Sansa? She lost everything, ended up in the house of her mad aunt and her new, crooked, foul husband who trapped Sansa, hid her away, and made her into Alayne Stone, his bordello star. Her journey here was less “make my own way” and more “escape.”

So he hasn’t said a word. If it hurts her to relive those springtime picnics with the steamers hanging from the branches of the weirwood and those pretty cakes Mrs. Mordane used to bake, he’s not going to prompt it.

It’s just that… There’s so much they’ve shared, and so much that has gone unspoken. The way they sometimes act, you’d think they’d met the very day Jon joined her tour.

While he has no interest in a party, or cake, or gifts, or any sort of fuss, a mention might have been nice. Just to know she remembered.

But then, she’s been preoccupied, of course. They’ve had some leads tracking down Baelish, and this is a major gig. It’s the opening night of her week-long engagement here.

So Jon says nothing. He keeps his post near the corner of where the grandstand and the audience area meets, and he keeps to himself as the girls fuss over the show. There are to be spotlights, and Mya’s designed all new background screens and arranged for special props and furniture. Sansa’s been rehearsing since ten o’clock this morning, though not all of it on the stage. Myranda has been adamant that Jon keep his distance so preparation goes swimmingly. “You make the musicians nervous.”

They should be nervous, Jon thinks. He’s witnessed a few rehearsals and seen how some of those players ogled his girl. One trumpet player broke tempo to wolf-whistle, earning him a look from Jon that made him try to huddle under his starched collar, like a turtle withdrawing into its shell.

Jon likes Sansa’s show on its own. Indeed, on its own, he likes it far more than any gentleman should. Her proper lady’s education included music and poetry, and Sansa always sang like a bird and wrote dainty little verses when she was small. As a future high society wife, it would be her duty to charm suitors and entertain her husband’s guests. She definitely entertains now, still sings, and writes verses, though the way she’s employed those skills are hardly what her mother had in mind. Sansa’s always been good with words, and that extends to making clean words sound as risky as anything with four letters. She and Myranda hammer out the tunes on local saloon pianos or, when on the road, on guitar and harmonica, during the off hours. They’re nice, catchy, flirty little ditties, but clever enough to be classy. You kept an even enough tone and didn’t belt the lyrics too loud, you could get away with singing a Sansa Stark tune in public without blushing.

Mya has a real talent with tools, too, honed from years of driving wagons, carts, and carriages cross-country. She and Sansa are real artists (A proper Lady’s education also included charcoal sketching, pen drawing, water colors and oil paints), and make some nifty foldable screens. Sansa and Myranda made pretty clothes and drapes and such and with a few pieces of borrowed furniture, the girls regularly turned piss-and-whiskey-soaked saloon platforms into palace boudoirs and fairy forests.

And, of course, there is the dancing and the costumes. The girls spent a year cleaning houses, working textile mills, delivering goods, and teaching pioneers their letters to save up and spend it all on Sansa’s first costume and proper horses and carriage so they could transport the clothes as carefully and securely as possible. All of Sansa’s things, as her show wardrobe expanded, have been stored in carefully padlocked, silk-lined cases with tissue paper wrapped around the garments. A few pieces even had to go in boxes with air holes in them, like they were puppies or bunny rabbits. Everything Sansa wore on stage always required a lot of fuss, but not always a lot of actual fabric.

Sansa wasn’t the sort of performer to show her bare backside to the audience, but more than one of her costumes allowed her fans to know the exact shape of it. Jon still isn’t sure what witchcraft the girls use that keeps her bosoms contained within her bodice just enough to keep her nipples from making their public debut. Especially given how she moves, shaking, leaning over, stretching, leaning…

As a girl, Sansa begged her mother to let her learn ballet. Catelyn had reservations, viewing it as rather risque and unladylike, but then Sansa went to her father with her quivering pout and big blue eyes, and so she got four years of instruction. She isn’t just one of those bordello, rough-trade so-called tavern wenches who just shook their fringe and thrust their chests over into a patron’s face. Sansa definitely did some shaking and bending and teasing, but she was graceful, tasteful. Sin personified, sure, but the sort of sexy nymph that did more than make a drunk fool hoot and tent his trousers. The sort that the ladies enjoyed just as much, stylish and fine enough to make the women see a glamorized reflection, a risky inspiration, and feminine standards that matched their own instead of a threat or pathetic attention-seeker.

It did help that she isn’t technically a full burlesque performer. Sure, she wasn’t above feather fans and boas, but she never wore less than her stocking, bloomers, and corsets and garters. She did have one number that involved the removal of garments, but it was her play-acting a sort of scene that was more “melodically preparing for cotillion” than “peep show.” The bits where she removed garments consisted of her dropping a robe behind a semi-translucent dress screen, and she ended the bit in a gown, technically in more clothing than she started the number in. And she didn’t just dance and sing, she told jokes, proper jokes, good ones, not just the odd suggestive comment.

Still sexy beyond belief, though. And she knew how to shake as well she knew how to arabesque.

Jon bloody loves Sansa’s show, really.

Except for the part where it’s a show with an audience. The show would be perfect without an audience.

Sure, there’s sometimes a strange surge of pride Jon feels when Sansa first comes out on stage and the jaws start to drop. It gives him a bit of a thrill to know she’s so admired, because she’s his. He has the woman every man in the room wants. They can only stare.

But after a couple seconds, the thrill drops. And it’s more like he’s surrounded by threats, men who would probably kill to have her. He fears for her, surrounded by so many strangers aching to touch, hold, and do unspeakable things to her. No one touches Sansa. Except Mya, Myranda, and him, and that’s only because she says so. She’s already had far, far too much experience with the unwanted grasps of men. And it’s hardly lost on him that it was the worst of them that started her at this career.

There are too many men in this world who refuse to accept that a smile, a friendly word, a bat of the eyelashes, or a skimpy costume onstage was license for them to take whatever they wish.

Even with the more genteel folks, like the “gentlemen” she’d be entertaining tonight, the sort who knew better than to lay a hand on her, Jon didn’t like them, either. They didn’t care about Sansa, they didn’t love her. They loved flesh, giggles, silk corsetry, a woman being there to please them and nothing more. They love a fantasy. They grin at the high-pitched, childlike giggles she gives off when she glances over her shoulder. They have no idea that when something is actually funny to her, she either throws her head back to release a full, round laugh, or makes a small, hard-edged little snicker. They probably wouldn’t care to hear those. They wanted a woman who made girlish giggles and beckoning eyes at them as if they’d done something witty without actually having to be witty. They want to see her move only in a way designed to please them. She might as well be a prized thoroughbred or one of those talking birds. They know nothing of her, have no thoughts of her beyond the carnal, no interest. Most of these “fine gentlemen” would probably sneak off to the local brothel at some point this week to patronize the redheads. Hell, there’d likely be at least a couple “invitations” from some especially rich, married gentlemen seeking to make her into a conquest and/or mistress.

Jon could watch Sansa perform all day and night, if not for all the strangers watching with him.

And it’s not like that initial bolt of pride lasted long. A far as anyone and everyone knows, he’s her bodyguard. Unattached fellows who see her show are often happy (if nervous) to send her messages, flowers, invitations, and such. Some outright proposition her. There are the ones who considered themselves romantic gentlemen, the ones who, after a single show, come to her lodgings with their hair combed back and flowers clutched to their chest, fall to one knee and ask her to flee her hard, fast-paced, tawdry life to be their bride. Sure, all they know of her is seeing her sway her hips in a satin corset for an hour onstage, but they tell themselves they’re in love, that she’ll fall to their feet because they mentioned a church and surely she wants to give up her whole life to be the Mrs. of a man she just met. Everyone who watches her sees her as for the taking to some degree.

Jon just wants these fools to stop thinking they can have her. Not just because they’re together. Even if they weren’t, even if he saw her as a sister the way he still sees Arya. But because she’s not to be taken, or had. No could have her. They could only be chosen by her. And these men did not understand that. They thought to possess her, if only for an hour or so. Like she’s a thing.

Sansa’s not a thing. Jon doesn’t possess her. She’s chosen him. And it’s a grand thing. Jon wishes they knew that. Because often, the only thing that will keep a man from thinking he can have a lady is if she already “belongs” to another man. Sure, Sansa doesn’t belong to him, but he is her fellow, and if some of these louts knew that, they’d set some true boundaries. There’d be no “dinner invitations” and unsolicited parcels of chocolate or jewelry that were really just intended unofficial payments for a “private show” she’s never offered. Not if they knew the ManHunter with the Wolf was her beau.

There’s some selfishness to it, too. Sansa pours so much of herself into her show. It’s her life. It’s her art. Her livelihood. It’s the thing Littlefinger pushed her into to try and make her his pawn that she turned into independence and expression. She has so much love and passion for her performances. And Jon can’t help but wish that some of that could be for him, not for a bunch of ignorant voyeurs.

It’s not that he doubts her love for him, of course. Gods, what they have is exquisite. Despite the artistry Sansa devotes to her work, it’s still artifice, still a show. But with him, she’s given her true self, and all the courage required for it. She gives him something that she’s given no one.

She’d never seek out Baelish to bring him to justice with anyone else. Only Jon. She’d never whisper her greatest fears, the reasons she’s so afraid to do so, to anyone but him. She’d never throw herself into an embrace so fearlessly and joyfully for anyone but him. And the way she knows him so well. Sometimes, it’s like she can read his mind. Sansa fears connecting with anyone, after everything that has happened. Men especially. She would fear knowing someone so well, getting attached enough to learn so much. But she puts that fear aside to know him.

Still, though…

Jon watches as the patrons settle themselves in, perusing the leather-bound menus and uttering hushed orders to white-vested waiters. The time is nearing. Laden plates and full glasses start coming out. Jon observes with some interest as waiters mount stepladders and start dimming the candles and lamps. This place really is top-rate. Meanwhile, lights go up on the closed plum curtain. As the lights dim, so does the chatter. The band strikes up a rendition of… something. Jon doesn’t recognize it. Something new? When had the girls composed a new song?

It’s very grand, though, almost like one of those operas Mrs. Stark used to drag them to.

Sansa deserves it.

Finally, the curtains part, and the audience gives an initial pause. The stage is made up to look like a lady’s boudoir, but it’s not the usual set they use. That one is all red velvet-esque, with an oriental dress screen. But this… This is all powder blue, dove-grey and white. There is a dressing table, and a couple of comfortable-looking arm chairs. There’s a dress screen, but, like the background and the coverings on the prop furniture it resembles…

...Winterfell. It looks like one of the grand family chambers at Winterfell.

They’d really brought out all the stops for the San Francisco Stage Port.

The first glimpse they get of the star are her fingertips, appearing around the edge of the white dress screen. She utters a high note. “Ooooh….”

She turns the corner and reveals herself. “I’m not a girl to stay put/Some say I’ve lost my home/I said the same myself/But then I didn’t know.”

The costume isn’t entirely new, just reworked. It’s a satin bustle gown of satin that used to be red, but had been dyed blue. It’s a high-formal number that she usually dons at the end of her “getting ready for the ball” number, with a wide neckline and short sleeves. She’s got long, white satin gloves and a matching wrap about her shoulders. Her hair is piled high atop her head, woven with white roses. She looks like an angel.

“When I set out on my own/I swear I never knew/that home could be a someone….” She trails off and turns. The music stills. Jon watches, amazed and a little nervous. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was facing towards him.

“And that someone---” She points, towards him, but not at him, surely, “Is---” Why was there a light glaring down on him all of a sudden? “You!”

The band kicks up again, but while their tempo is suddenly rambunctious, their volume is low enough for Sansa to cry out over them.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, forgive me, but this is a very special night, you see!” A spotlight follows her as she moves to the far end of the stage and start descending the staircase there. She comes towards him. She takes his hand, then clutches his cheek, whispers ‘Happy Birthday’, then starts dragging him up on stage.

Jon suddenly finds himself in front of what seem like an infinite number of very elegant people who had not asked him to be there.

“My friends,” Sansa announces, beaming, “I’d like you all to meet someone very, very special, my wonderful husband, Captain Jon Stark Targaryen!”

Jon looks at her, suddenly feeling a bit dazed. Husband? They aren’t married. Not that he’s opposed to the arrangement. It’s just that her constant deflections whenever he proposed such a thing had given him the impression that she was.

There is some muffled confusion, but the audience does cheer, especially the ladies. Jon takes an awkward bow.

“You’ll have to forgive my old ball and chain. He’s not used to the spotlight.” The first big laugh of the night.

“And forgive me for hiding him away from the world like I have. But be honest, ladies,” she says with an arched brow and a display gesture, “If this was your man, wouldn’t you want to keep him all to yourself?”

There are cheers of approval, the sort one would never, ever expect from respectable, high-society wives.

“But I had to bring him onstage, as I wanted to give him a very special present on his birthday. His first since we got married. You see, Jon and I have known each other our whole lives. We grew up together. But, misfortune befell my family, we lost everything, including the house I was born and raised in, and our lives pulled us apart for many, many years.”

Jon looks at Sansa curiously. This is all true.

“As a performer, my work requires me to wander, never settle down. I was fine with that, because after losing everything, I figured I’d never have a home again, so I might as well not even try. But, against all odds, one day this rugged, kind-eyed, callous-handed bounty hunter walked back into my life and not only did I find him again, but I found home again, too. Our work keeps us on the road, always, but home isn’t a place. It’s a way of life. It’s love, safety, and happiness. So while I’ll probably never see my mother’s garden or my father’s study again, I’m home, riding through the American West, traveling from place to place with my wonderful, darling Jon.”

She turns to him and cups his cheek. She kisses him, and the audience applauds. Jon’s heart beats a million times a second. He tries to blink back tears as he embraces his… well, his bride, he supposes. They’ll have to get in and out of the church discreetly, perhaps, but they’ll manage.

When she pulls back, he thinks that’s the end of it. But the music gets louder and faster, Sansa grabs his arms and smirks. First at him, then at the audience.

She starts pushing him upstage. Jon finds himself falling backward into an armchair. Sansa dances about the chair, getting behind him and massaging his shoulders.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid that with the show, I haven’t had time to give my man a proper celebration. We’re busy folk, see. Me drawing in the respectable, him rustling up the guilty. And sometimes, well, I feel my man gets a little cheated. You all get to see me in all my under-Sunday Best, but when the curtain closes and we come together for married life, well, let’s just say in private, I go more for comfort than glamor. But for his birthday, I’d like to delight my man in all my glory. At my most beautiful. Now, don’t get too shocked,” she assures them all, including him, “I’m not about to give the sheriff a reason to come calling, or scandalize any of you good people… too much… Even for a showgirl like me, there are some aspects of private life and duty that stays private. Most of my wifely duties stay behind the curtain. But I’m sure family folk like yourselves won’t begrudge us a little preamble. Indeed, I’d say that after my darling here, this show tonight is for the ladies in the audience.” She winks. “Give you some ideas to try out yourselves. Show those husbands of yours you at your most beautiful--- even if they don’t deserve it, they’ll make themselves worthy.”

She spins around the chair again and plops into his lap. He swallows.

“You don’t mind, do you, Handsome?”

He breathes. Sansa looms over him, practically glowing. The lights are really bright and the audience is so dark and seems so far away. Like they’re not even there. But they are there. The men in the audience… There’s a real boundary now. They’re fading away beyond the glow, beyond her. They know. She’s just a performer on a stage, not to be had. Not even performing for them so much as performing for their wives and… for him. Because he’s her Fella, her one and only. The only one she’ll have. No one touches her. No one but him.

That fleeting tremor of pride hits him, but this time, it’s not fleeting. It burns within him. He grins. All this. She’s done all this for him. Claimed him before her greatest audience ever.

Every yearning he’s harbored in secret, she’s satisfying all at once without him saying a word. She just knew. She always knows.

Still… There is… One concern. He clasps the sides of her waist and pulls her back towards him. She squeals. The audience laughs.

Jon whispers.

“Darling, if you’re really going to do what I think you’re going to do, erm, I fear that I might end up… overcome in a way not fit for public viewing.”

“I’ve thought of that,” she whispers, “And don’t worry, I’ll pace it out a bit. You’ll only be on until intermission. And all you have to do is sit and enjoy the show.”

“Erm, okay.”

She pulls herself up again and grins at the audience. “And to think, all of you fine folks in the front row thought you got the best seat in the house!”

More laughter. Sansa rises from his lap and strides forward. She undoes her little wrap and tosses backwards. It lands right in his lap.

“Now, I think I was in the middle of a song?”

The music changes again, reverting back to that gentle melody from the beginning.

“I’ve grown too big for Papa’s arms/But I’m just right for yours…”

Sansa turns, still facing the audience, but still looking at him, and she sings like one of those ‘divas’ from the operas Mrs. Stark used to drag them to. Except Jon isn’t bored. He’s drawn in, because she’s singing to him, for him. Her song about finding home with him.

“I hear the laughter of those we lost/And they don’t seem so lost anymore…”

And gods…. It’s so beautiful, because she sings in a way that Jon suspects she’s always wanted to. She sings with her heart as much as with her lungs. Singing words just for him, to a melody just for him. Dressed as she is, singing as she is, she seems like the lady her mother always wanted her to be. Despite the fact that this whole number is orchestrated by her, Jon somehow feels like he’s given her something. But how? How could he of all people inspire something like this?

When she finishes, he’s crying. He’s never felt so cherished. So lucky. So blessed. There’s loud applause. Sansa pulls a handkerchief from her skirts and buries her face in it for a while. But, eventually, she looks up again, straight out at the crowd. Jon can tell by their reactions that she’s wearing a smirk and a mischievous raised eyebrow.

“And now, what you’ve been waiting for!” The music rises again into a walloping dance beat. Lots of horns. Sansa begins to shake. She leans forward so that her respectable-looking ball gown suddenly seems a bit more scandalous, and slowly begins pulling off her right glove.

“I get lots of boys and men/all with the same question/They see the silk and hear me sing/and think I’ll want a ring/You all may wonder/With how I wander/And how I cut them loose/Just what made me choose?/Just what made me pick this man?/Well I’ll tell you if I can…”

She’s free of the glove and turns to shimmy towards him. Their eyes meet. She sweeps over him, leaning over his shoulder and stroking his cheek. “He’s got a smile/ that makes the sun look dim/Just how good he looks/when he goes for a swim/..”

She removes the other glove and runs it along his face before dropping it. This song is ridiculous and adorable and absolutely ridiculous, but true. She belts out a line about him always lending a helping hand as she places the end of one of her gown laces between his fingers, then does a little rhythmic march forward. As designed, that one lace being tugged is enough to make it all come loose. The bodice begins to drop down her torso, and she pretends to be shocked for half a second before grinning again and slowly letting it fall around her hips.

Sansa backs up and tugs at the sash under her bustle. The waist of her dress comes loose and her skirts pool at her feet. She bends over, and Jon finds that her glorious backside, bedecked with beaded fringe, is inches from his face. Then it’s in his lap and his face is pushed between her breasts as she finishes the last few lines. It’s only once the last note is done that she pulls him up for air again and kisses him deep.

They’re gasping by the time they’re done. Sansa fans herself.

Jon is hard as the Rocky Mountains. She leans over and whispers in his ear. “I sort of lied when I said you just had to sit.”

“Mmmm…” He says, not entirely recovered. He tries to focus. “What?”

“When the song finishes, I need you to get up, throw me over your shoulder, and carry me backstage. Can you do that?”

“I was probably going to do that anyways.”

She slinks off his lap and sings a coy song about constructing a humble homestead with her pioneer man that is, in fact, not at all about constructing a humble homestead with a pioneer man, no matter how much she goes on about hammering and driving nails into wood or how excited she is to open her gates to him when he returns every evening. She mimes some of her ‘homemaking’, as it were. She ends on a big highnote, which Jon takes as his cue. Not at all faking the desperate passion he displays, he grabs her and tosses her over his shoulder. She squeals and the curtains close.

Myranda and Mya hurry out of the wings, but Jon sends them backing away with a look.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Sansa blows the audience a few kisses as the curtains close and laughs. “Okay, Jon, you can put me down now!”

“I could, but I’d rather not,” he says, a rough undercurrent to his tone as he continues to carry her down the right wings. Sansa feels a fluttering in her stomach and catches Mya’s eye. She grins.

She’d been so nervous about this. Most of her told her that her instincts were right. But her self-doubt was always present. Maybe he’d hate it, be humiliated, refuse. He’s not a showman. But she’s watched him as she’s performed. She’s observed the way he scowls whenever she admonishes him to restrain himself in public, how jealous he gets, how sullen he sometimes is. The longing in his eyes during the shows.

Thank gods she was right. She can tell by the way he’s discreetly stroking her inner thigh as he marches her backstage towards her dressing room. Thank gods the Stage Port provided a chaise. It would be a long intermission. A long, glorious intermission.

Her heart skips a beat when he kicks the door closed behind them so it really slams. Slams in a way that tells everyone within a hundred yards that that door would stay slammed until he opened it again.

She’s so wet she fears her bloomers might stain permanently. It was so hard to focus onstage, especially when she sat in his lap and felt just how overcome he really was.

Sansa squirms over his shoulder, hoping, praying that he’ll----

---Yes! He flips her over and throws her down onto the chaise like she’s nothing, looming over her with heated eyes. Sansa arches her back, hands above her head. She’s so happy she chose to wear tear-away underthings. She suspected that it might be necessary.

But Jon doesn’t take advantage of it at once. Oh no, his fingers slip down between her legs and he strokes her through the satin. Sansa thrusts against his hand, on fire. She tugs at the stupid tuxedo jacket that the venue’s dress code demanded of anyone not specifically paid to dance in impractical underthings, desperate to feel his rippling muscles and sweat-slicked skin against her bare fingertips.

She gets his shirt off, but he still strokes her through the satin. So good, but so cruel. Not enough, not enough!

“Please, Jon. The costume is tear-away!” She whispers.

He pulls away from her, eyes like hot coals, and sits up. She whimpers from the lack of contact until he grabs her by her waist with both hands and sets her on her feet in front of him.

“Is that so?” He says gruffly. “You really had every bit of this planned. So what you’re saying is, I just need to pull this and---”

He tugs, and the top part of her corset falls open so more of her cleavage spills out. She gives a mock-squeal and pretends to cover the space between her breasts. Jon grins and tugs at another lace. The corset falls open further. Sansa keeps pretending (poorly, she’s grinning), to be scandalized when Jon reaches for the two unjoined edges at the center of her garment and yanks them apart. The whole thing falls away. Sansa catches her breasts just in time, flexed fingers over each nipple.

“And these?” He asks, reaching each hand towards a lace on either side of her bloomers. They come apart and the front flops down, exposing her soaking sex. She gives another squeal and reaches to cover herself. Jon takes her fingertips in his mouth and sucks on them, gazing up at her as he releases them and moves his mouth to her cunny.

She comes apart in his mouth in no time at all, flying high. The sound of him undoing his belt brings her back. Seconds later, he’s thrusting her onto her back again, then thrusting into her. Sansa moans, nearly howls. When they’re done, she’ll probably be mortified by what the staff may have heard, but not now. She wants them to hear!

He pushes into her hard and fast, then grabs her again. Jon gets to his feet, then bends her over the back of the chaise, taking her from behind. He gives her backside a good smack.

“That’s for taking me at unawares,” he moans, then bends over to kiss her cheek tenderly. “That’s for making me your husband.”

Sansa luxuriates in the kisses he lavishes on her cheek, ears, and neck. She reaches a second peak and when she does, Jon starts going faster. He grips her breasts so, so hard as he slows his pace but increases his force, spilling within her with a strangled cry and faltering juts of his hip.

Jon practically crumbles away from her, and Sansa spills back onto the seat, gasping and smiling. She reaches over the edge of the seat and tugs him towards her. He climbs up on top of her and they embrace.

After a while, though, they start to remember where they are and what’s going on. Jon reluctantly peels himself off of her and starts tugging his tuxedo back on. Sansa remains on her back, watching him.

“The show must go on,” she murmurs tragically.

“If you like, I’ll carry you off the stage for the finale as well,” he offers.

She suddenly feels the drive to get up again, and winks. “I’ll see you when the curtain goes up.”

He kisses her again, then shuffles out.

Feeling rather brazen, Sansa remains as she is as Mya and Myranda shuffle in. Myranda lets out a whistle.

“There should be a real spring in your step for Act II, I think.”

#jonsasmutweek #jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #day one

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butterfly-winx · 4 years

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Zenith

- Do you know about Zenith? No? I mean you own a computer so you must. I hear the whole planet is covered in one large city.

- Other Zenith country names with capitals where applicable: Tribilisi (Kandu), Gorgan, Nuzul (Xihat), Tbaku, Navyol, Urzghar

- With the storm and snow clouds obscuring the sky most days, Zenith is quite dark. The cities illuminate themselves, kind of like year round festive ornamentation.

- So, you see, Zenith and either of its countries aren’t by far as boring as one might think on the first glance and most of them certainly don’t shy back from showing emotion.

#winx club #worldbuilding #winx club zenith #zenith #butterfly fic #winx techna #I held onto this for so long I think this has the longest collection of hcs of all of the planets posts #just to clarify: zenith is the planet transjordan the country and haikar the city techna is from #also bonus points to anyone who can find the cities/places on a map that I derived the Zenithian country names from

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mymemoirs · 3 years

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Unrecorded Memories and Missing Taiwan #4

I’m back again with the continuation from my previous posts! Although I need to admit that it does get boring that I have to write the same topic over and over again while personally wanting to write a different post (literally been itching to write something new), but I don’t like the idea of not finishing this post series till the end (just because it looks great to have 1, 2, 3, and so on side by side without having something unrelated in between).

If I have to describe my last two weeks in Taiwan, I would say that it’s just like a holiday rather than a summer exchange program.

Me and My Roommates: Karen, Vincy, and Iris (from left to right) in Gaomei Wetlands

12) I have never mentioned my dorm roommates in my previous posts, that’s because they just moved in when I’m on my last week of AI program. I was actually quite busy with the AI studies (yes, when I get back to my dorm, I do try to revise what the professors have taught us) and trying to blend in with the students in my class that I didn’t have any time to hang out with my roommates. I feel bad for always rejecting them whenever they ask me out. They were really kind to even include me in most of their outings.

Since I lived in a room for 4 people, I have three roommates and they were from Hong Kong. Their names are Vincy, Karen and Iris. The three of them join the same summer program class and they’re also from the same university. Although they said that they didn’t know each other yet before this program, they were so close together. Maybe having a lot of similarities help them bond. Vincy and Karen were from the same major which is social work, while Iris came from journalism major. Among the four of us, Vincy was the oldest as she is a senior (class of 2015) while the rest of us were juniors (class of 2016).

13) I think I started going out with them after my AI summer class ends. Every time we didn’t have any class trip on the weekend, we would plan our trip around the city. My friend, Iris, were like the tour guide among us because she was always the one who plan out our day (researching the best routes and where we should go)

I also get to befriend Singaporean friends, Jasmine and Hui En, who also took the same class as my roommates. They came with us during one of our trips and that was the time I were introduced to both of them.

14) Our first trip, if my memory still serves me well, is going to various places during the weekend. We went to Taichung Old Train Station, which is a heritage building and the trains are still operating in there! I forgot if we went there by bus or taxi, but I think it’s more likely by bus.

Taichung Old Train Station can be seen together with modern buildings.

Since the EasyCard/ Youyou Card that is used in public transportation allows a free 10 Km of ride by bus, we didn’t spend a lot. In fact, when I was there for a month, after buying the card for 100 NTD and depositing another 100 NTD (I think?), I had never recharge the card again. Some people say, they can even not recharge it for a year or so if you just make use of the 10 Km free ride (if you know what I mean).

15) After that, we went to ride the bus to our next destination which is the Miyahara Ice Cream Shop. When we get there, there was a long queue line and it was packed with people. The shop is one of the tourist spot in Taichung and besides selling ice cream (duh), they also sell souvenirs and other delicacies like traditional cakes and so on. The shop is quite big and if we go further inside beyond the ice cream display, we can see a souvenir shop like below. The interior of the shop also gives off a Harry Potter vibe which is really cool and could also serves as a potential photo spots (although it would be hard with the place being packed with tourists).

Inside Miyahara Ice Cream Shop where they sell their various souvenirs

It was a good experience overall. You would think that a long queue would mean waiting long but since I came with my friends, time flies so fast. We were also given a menu to choose and tick off while waiting in our queue, so we were really busy debating what flavor we would want to try. Pst, by the way, they also give out unique toppings for the ice cream. I have to admit that the ice cream is quite expensive but worth it for the size and taste. I especially love ice creams so when we arrived there, I was really excited (hahahaha!).

16) For our lunch, we went to a mall to find a place for us to eat together and ended up with an Italian themed restaurant, which is one of the most expensive meal I had in Taiwan. Fortunately, we split it among the six of us and shared various menus ranging from main dish to dessert. I think it’s also the main reason it’s expensive, we ate 6 different dishes with 3 of them in large servings. For those who’s interested, the name of the Italian restaurant is called Miacucina located in Shin Kong Mitsukoshi Taichung. However, I don’t recommend eating here if you want to eat on budget.

The Ice Cream Waffle shared between six people

17) Another destination for our Saturday Adventures is the Gaomei Wetlands in Taichung. We went there using taxi because we didn’t want to run late especially since we wanted to be there before the sunset. Aside from wetlands, there’s also a Wind Turbine. In fact, one of the bus station near Gaomei Wetlands is called Wind Turbine No. 18, which is also around the location where we alight. I remembered walking through the bridge, but I think to get to Gaomei Wetlands, we need to take a shuttle bus or walk more to get there.

We took a photo on the bridge viewing the Wind Turbine (Strong Wind!)

After arriving at the Gaomei Wetlands, we need to cross a wooden jetty to actually accessed the wetlands (wet feet here I come!). This is because below the jetty there were baby crabs and we were not allowed to walk there for fear of crushing those precious lives. There were even staffs who’s guarding it, sometimes blowing his whistle when he spots someone trespassing. We were there for a limited time because we need to beware of the high tide after certain hours.

When we get to the end of the jetty, there were a lot of shoes left there because we all wanted to get into the wetlands and it would be a no go if your shoes get wet too. This is where I think I made a mistake on my choice of outfit that day, because as you can see I was wearing long black jeans. So, I had to roll my jeans up but thankfully because of the low tide, our feet didn’t get too submerged into the water. I took a lot of pictures and videos that day because of the unique experience. TBH, I rarely took pictures of my activities but I just had to that day because it was an all new experiences for me.

You can even bring your dog there, because I’ve seen one or two dogs walked by their owners. We even had the chance to actually take pictures with the cute dog and it was taken by the owner who later send us the pictures.

This is one of the pictures I took when I reached the wetlands. Most of my picture were backlighted so this is the best one among the others.

18) After watching the sunset for a while, we went to our last destination. I think we took a taxi to the night market. I forgot which night market it is but I think it should be Yi Zhong Night Market. We had our dinner there by indulging ourselves from one stall to another. I also tried Xing Fu Tang, my first brown sugar bubble tea, upon my friend’s recommendation and it was only around 50 NTD (which is much cheaper then the Xing Fu Tang on my country). The first time I tasted the bubble tea, I came to love it so much for its rich and surprising taste. It was sweet warm caramel at the top and cold milk tea at the bottom, it was mixed together but in a good way. However, when the franchise is available on my country, it wasn’t as good as the first time I tasted it. I wonder why.

Pedestrians @ Yi Zhong Night Market

19) So that’s it for our Saturday adventure! After walking for a few hours tasting snacks and delicacies we found on the night market, we went back to our dormitory by bus. It was exhausting to walk all day outside, but I really enjoy going out with them because there were a lot of places I wouldn’t go if it weren’t for them and they were fun to converse with. I also am not confident enough yet, to go solo travelling in a country foreign to me so I was really grateful.

That night, we took a late night bath and I for one were taught on an early age not to take a bath late at night because it was not good for our health but because of our activities, I had to. Fortunately, the dormitories in Taiwan provide water heater (All hail water heater!).

While we’re on the topic of ‘bathing’, I just realized this after observing my roommates for a few days, they tend to take a bath late at night before they went to sleep and they didn’t take a bath early in the morning before they go out. They just wash their face and did their makeup. I was actually very surprised with this since all three of them did it. So, I was intrigued to ask them about it and they explained that since they took a bath last night and going out will get them dirty, so why bother take a bath before going outside? Instead, they would take a bath before hitting the hay because that way the bed won’t get dirty. I thought to myself that their reasoning makes complete sense to me too apart from my own reasons to take a bath twice a day. It was trivial but I think these small things shapes our cultural behavior and it was actually interesting for me know that people from different country have different ‘normal’ too. While I think taking a bath twice a day was normal, it was not the case for my roommates.

I guess I’ll continue my ‘Sunday Adventure’ with my roommates in the next post because I think this post has been too long. There were a lot of places we visited that eventful Saturday and I had fun reminiscing about my trip. Since today’s Saturday, I think it’s the perfect time to actually post this! So, enjoy~!

PS. It has been so long since I write and this post have been on my draft since forever! I had been busy trying to find jobs (but not lucky yet) and tried to make my time more meaningful by studying online.

#Taiwan #Taichung #Summer Exchange

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