#i landed on a property with a hotel and then another with FOUR houses on it and that was it for my career as a landlord | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

awholelotofladybug · 10 months

Text

Fabricator: A Stammering Adrien AU Story

Based on This AU

Disclaimer: The only characters or locations I own are the ones I make up. All other fictional characters and locations about Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir are the property of Thomas Astruc and Zag. Please support the official release.

Credit for the plot and new characters in this story goes to @shadowlorddemon

“That’s it, Marinette. Nice and steady,” said the mayor. “Keep your back straight. You’re doing just fine.”

Marinette gulped as she walked forward. Anyone who knew Marinette could tell you that she was a klutz. She was dreading the potential disaster awaiting her if she took a bad step. Every inch forward felt like a risk as the stack of books on her head tilted back and forth like a looming pendulum.

“Mr. Mayor, not that I don’t trust you, but what does balancing books have to do with party etiquette?” Marinette asked.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to be proper and sophisticated for this party,” said Chloé, her eyes not leaving her magazine. “A big part of that is having good posture.”

The mayor gave a proud nod. “And this is one of the best ways to practice. Now come along, Marinette. Just a few more steps.”

Marinette made her next step, then another, and another, each step made as if there were landmines on the floor. Finally, she made it over to Mayor Bourgeois, who gave her applause.

“Well done, Marinette. You did it.”

“I did it?” she asked with a smile. “I did it! Yes!”

Marinette raised her fist to the air, but sudden movements, gravity, and heavy books do not mix well, and the poor girl toppled backward with the books landing on her head. The mayor and his daughter rushed to help her.

“Mama, is that you?” asked a dizzy Marinette. “I’m all ready for beddy-bye.”

“Well,” said the mayor, “At least she obtained a new skill.”

“Plus some mild head trauma,” Chloé teased.

About twenty minutes and an ice pack later, Marinette was sitting with Chloé and the mayor at a hotel restaurant table with a pot of tea.

“Now, to continue,” said the mayor. “Despite what you have seen in movies and television, one should not extend one’s pinkie finger when drinking tea.”

“Really? Why?” Marinette asked.

“It’s rude and connotes elitism,” said Chloé. “It’s one of the first things I had to “unlearn.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Wow. You learn something new every day.”

“You’ve done wonderfully so far,” said the mayor. “You even managed the cutlery lesson in record time. Only four tries.”

Marinette rubbed her hands. “Don’t remind me. My hands are still sore from all the slapping.”

“Hey, it’s how I learned, so it’s how you learned,” said Chloé.

Marinette sighed. These lessons were about as pleasant as cuddling a porcupine. But then she remembered why she was doing it. She took out a picture of her and Adrien from their last date, and gave a longing sigh.

“It’s all for you, my buttercup. I just hope I don’t blow it.”

Chloé laughed “Honey, please, you could set the place on fire, and Adrien wouldn’t regret it.”

“You think so?” Marinette asked.

“Are you kidding? He’s crazy about you.”

Marinette smiled. “Thanks, Chloé. And thanks for helping me with this.”

Chloé rubbed the back of her head and blushed. “Honestly, after all the awful things I did, it’s the least I can do.”

The two friends, once mortal enemies, smiled at each other as the lessons continued.

The night of the party had finally arrived. Adrien was ready to burst with excitement as Gorilla drove him up to Marinette’s house. This was his first big party with Marinette. Once they stopped, Adrien got out of the car and rushed into the bakery. The first thing he saw was the warm, smiling faces of Marinette’s parents

“Ah, there he is,” said Tom. “My little girl’s Prince Charming, come to take her to the ball.”

Adrien blushed. “Hi, M-M-M-Mister Dupain, Mrs. Cheng. Is Marinette r-r-r-ready?”

“Tom, go get her,” said Sabine. “I’ll keep “Prince Charming” company.”

Tom smiled and went up the stairs. Meanwhile, Sabine saw Adrien tugging at his necktie. She shook her head as she gave him a hand redoing the knot.

“Look at you,” she said. “All dapper and debonair. Excited about tonight?”

“I sure am, Mrs. Cheng. Tonight is g-g-going to be great. I’m... I’m going to make Marinette feel like a p-p-princess”

Sabine chuckled. “Honey, when she’s around you, she always feels like a princess.”

“Did somebody ask for a princess?” said Tom’s voice.

The two of them looked to see Tom, who moved to the side to present Marinette in a short, white dress with decorative white roses on the left shoulder. Her face was painted with tasteful makeup, and her hair was up in a bun. Adrien could feel his heart pounding as he saw this approaching vision of beauty.

“Adrien?” said Marinette. “Adrien, can you hear me?”

Adrien snapped back to reality, cleared his throat, and offered his hand.

“Shall we?”

Marinette giggled. “Let’s.”

Marinette looked around the ballroom. The room abounded with the rich and famous. There were the Agrestes and the Bourgeois’, of course, as well as the Blanchets and the Tsurugis. There were celebrities like Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, as well as businessmen like Emil Dupre and Mortimer Hugo. Marinette’s head spun a little. She felt like a mouse in a lion’s den. But as nervous as she was, she was not nearly as nervous as Adrien, who was shaking like a leaf.

“You too, huh?” Marinette asked.

Adrien gulped. “Yeah. It’s b-b-b-been a while since I've been to one of these.”

“Okay… Okay, this isn’t a problem,” said Marinette, trying to work things out. “Let’s just stay close together and look for people we know.”

“Yeah, good idea,” said Adrien, trying to ignore the beat of sweat on his brow.

The couple made their way through the room, holding hands. Every once in a while, they caught a pair of eyes following them. Many seemed friendly enough, but others showed disdain at the sight of a wealthy young man dating a “commoner,” no doubt. Still, Marinette and Adrien ignored them as best they could. That’s they heard a familiar voice.

“Marinette! Adrien! Over here!”

A sight for sore eyes if ever there was one. Chloé and Sabrina were waving at them and standing with Emilie and Nathalie. With a quick sigh of relief, the young couple made their way toward them.

“Hi guys,” said Marinette. “So good to see familiar faces.”

Chloé chuckled a bit. “Yeah… You know, a year ago, I would have fumed at the idea of you being here. Probably would’ve thrown a huge tantrum.”

“Yeah. You were pretty awful back then.”

“Yeah,” said Chloé. “But now, honestly, I’m really glad to see you.”

Marinette’s eyes became as big as dinner plates. “Wow.”

“What? Did I say something wrong?” Chloé asked.

“No, no, it’s fine,” said Marinette. “In fact, that was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me… Thank you.”

Chloé’s cheeks turned pink. Hearing that “thank you” sparked a warm, comforting feeling in her chest. A small smile made its way across her face as she decided to be playful.

“Well, now that we’re friends, I guess you better get used to it, Dupain-Cheng,” she teased.

Marinette smiled as they found a table. She loved this new side of Chloé. Sure, she still seemed a little spoiled, but at least now she was spoiled sweet instead of spoiled rotten.

The night marched on, and so did the party. The lessons Marinette had taken with Chloé and the mayor had paid off, from walking with proper posture to the proper utensil usage. Though she and Adrien spent more time flirting than they did eating. However, those who were focused on eating did work up a thirst, and Chloé decided to quench hers with a glass of punch. While at the bowl, she suddenly got the feeling that she was being watched.

“Chloé Bourgeois. What a surprise.”

Chloé turned to see Mason Edmund, the fashion designer. The thin man had salt-and-pepper hair and a scruffy beard surrounding a semi-permanent scowl. He wore a charcoal gray suit, grey dress-gloves, oxblood shoes, and carried a black walking stick with a golden lion head handle. Chloé felt her skin crawl a little. She had heard about Mason Edmund. Her mother called him “Dream Killer.” He had a talent for destroying the confidence of aspiring young designers, making them give up before they even start.

“Always a pleasure to meet Audrey Bourgeois’ youngest ankle-biter,” he said with an Eastern Finnish accent. “And how are we tonight?”

Chloé gulped. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Edmund. I’m doing alright. Just here with a few friends.”

“You actually made some friends? How cute,” he said snobbishly.

Chloé growled under her breath. Keeping her temper in check was hard enough without this know-it-all chumming the waters.

“So, who are these friends of yours, Miss Chloé?”

“Well, you already know Adrien Agreste and Sabrina Raincomprix,” said Chloé. “But the one with the bun is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Cute as a button, that one,” said Edmund. “So what is she? Teen model? Child TV star?”

"No, nothing like that. She's a baker's daughter," said Chloé.

"Quaint."

Chloé cleared her throat. "Yeah, but she is an aspiring fashion designer. It's her lifelong dream."

"Lifelong dream, you say?" Edmund said as his lips curled.

Chloé's blood ran cold at the tone in his voice. "W-Wait! Monsieur Edmund! I didn't..."

"Run along, child," said Edmund. "I'm off to have a chat with our little dreamer.~"

The villain adjusted the silver crown lion pin on his floral-print tie, and walked away.

Chloé facepalmed. "Me and my big mouth.”

Marinette poured herself a glass of punch. So far, the night was going smoothly. No words had been fumbled, no glasses had been broken, no utensil was misused, and despite a few glares from the higher-ups, she felt surprisingly confident.. That soon changed, however, when she felt a pair of eyes fall upon her. She turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of the thin old man looming over her..

“Oh! Uh, M-Monsieur Edmund. B-Bonsoir.”

“Bonsoir, Ms. Dupain-Cheng,” said Edmund. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

Marinette smiled as best she could. “So, uh, how’s the fashion industry?”

“As cutthroat as ever,” he said. “Speaking of which, a little blonde birdie told me you were an aspiring designer yourself.”

“Uh, yeah. I’d like to start my own fashion line.”

“Yes, it’s nice to have dreams, isn’t it?” Edmund continued. “Just by looking at you, I can tell a good deal of your designs include floral patterns. With plenty of pastel colors, am I right?”

Suddenly, Marinette felt uneasy. “Y-Yeah?”

“Oh, how precious. And bold. Not everyone in the fashion world is bold enough to use colors and imagery often reserved for toddlers. Perhaps you could add some cute little bumblebees and butterflies into your designs. Maybe a princess and a unicorn as well.”

Edmund’s words cut like a knife, Marinette’s confidence began to crumble and she felt herself shaking and spilling punch onto her dress.

“Oh my,” said Edmund. “How very clumsy of you. Well, perhaps this can inspire you to design yourself a bib.”

Marinette felt like she was two inches tall. She could hear a few people laughing at her. She was ready to start crying. but just before she could...

“You leave her alone!” said Chloé.

Adrien held Marinette close. “Don’t t-t-t-talk to my girlfriend like that, you b-b-big bully!”

“What’s this? Audrey’s little shrew shows compassion, and Gabriel’s little mouse shows some backbone. Tonight is full of surprises,” said Edmund. “But come now, if anything, I’m doing Ms. Dupain-Cheng a favor. The fashion world is incredibly cutthroat, after all.”

That is when Emilie and Nathalie walked up.

“Whether or not it’s “cutthroat” is irrelevant,” said Nathalie.

“You, Monsieur Edmund, are just a bully,” said Emilie. “You’ve always been a bully.”

Edmund scoffed. “If you and your little friends can’t handle a few harsh words, that’s not my problem.”

“A few harsh words?!” said Adrien. “You... You insulted her t-t-t-to her face!”

“Yeah! And you’re one to talk!” said Chloé. “You went on a month-long tirade after my mom gave you a bad review!”

“There is an elegance to be found in simplicity! Something your tasteless hack of a mother wouldn’t know!” Edmund exclaimed.

That is Chloé snapped. “Marinette’s designs are leagues ahead of yours! At least they have some color! Yours look like something out of a bad Halloween movie! People would rather wear old potato sacks over your depressing rags!”

Edmund snarled. “I have half a mind, you little blonde brat!”

Just then, Edmund heard chatter off to the side.

“Arguing with children. Pathetic,” said Mortimer Hugo.

“Indeed. Such insecurity,” said Pierre De Leon. “And the Bourgeois girl isn’t even wrong.”

“Quite. His last fashion line was about as dull as dishwater,” said Emil Dupre. “Honestly, from what I’ve heard, that Dupain-Cheng girl could design circles around him.”

Edmund shot Marinette a glare and stormed off, not noticing the following gaze and insidious half-smile of Emil Dupre.

Marinette and her friends stood by the punch bowl. That ordeal had felt like an emotional 4k run, and this was a chance to catch their breath.

“I lost my temper again, didn’t I?” Chloé asked.

“Yeah,” said Sabrina. “But to be fair, Monsieur Edmund started it.”

“Chloé, I have to ask,” said Marinette. “Did you mean what you said about my designs?”

Chloé blushed. “Yeah. The truth is I’ve always liked your work, even if I never admitted it.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “You did? Really?”

“Of course she did,” said Adrien. “That j-j-j-just goes to show how talented you are, princess.”

Marinette blushed. “Oh, Adrien, you big smoothie.”

“Not to... Not to mention smart, funny, pretty, and w-w-way too kissable.”

Before Marinette could respond, she felt a barrage of what she liked to call “Adrien smooches.” Each peck from his lips tickled her cheek.

“Adrien,” she said with a giggle. “Control yourself.”

Chloé shook her head. Watching these two was like reading a cringy romantic fanfiction. Still, it was pretty cute. However, just as things were starting to calm down, there was a loud slam as the front door swung open. As the crowd looked toward it, they saw what looked like a living mannequin with blank eyes and a big ear-to-ear smile. He wore a white top hat and tailcoat tuxedo with glitch distortion patchwork, and he carried a walking stick in his right hand made to look like a red-headed sewing pin.

“Attention, distinguished members of Paris’ Elite!” the villain proclaimed. “I am the Fabricator, the first, last, and only word on the world in haute couture! And I am here to show all of you what a REAL fashion designer can do!”

The crowd trembled as Fabricator searched the room. He slowly shifted his gaze back and forth until his eyes

“Starting with you, little dreamer,” he said with a smirk. “You like pink and flowers so much? Let’s see what I can stitch together for you.”

Marinette froze as she saw the villain’s attack fly her way, only to be snapped out of it after hearing Chloé shout “Marinette! Look out!” and being shoved to the floor. As Adrien helped her up, what Marinette witnessed would plague her memories. Poor Chloé had become a lifeless mannequin in an unflattering, hot pink flower gown. Gasps and murmurs escaped the crowd while Fabricator chuckled.

“Hmm,” he said. “A member of the Bourgeois clan sticking her neck out for someone else? How surprising... How noble... How nauseating.”

Sabrina’s eyes welled up with tears as she looked at her petrified friend. However, sadness gave way to rage as she tackled Fabricator, and fought him for his walking stick.

“You MONSTER! You SICK, TWISTED...”

She was suddenly silenced as she became a mannequin, one wearing a purple and green superhero costume.

“Poor child, but that’s what you get for trying to play the hero,” said Fabricator. “Now where was I? Huh?”

Marinette and Adrien were gone, but Fabricator could only laugh at this.

“Run and hide all you like!” he proclaimed. “But I will find you, and you will suffer!”

Outside the building, Marinette and Adrien gasped for breath as they found a brief bit of safety. Each one knew what they had to do next as they looked at each other.

“Find somewhere safe to hide,” they said in unison.

“Huh? Oh, okay. Love you,” they responded in unison.

The two youngsters turned away and ran off. Marinette found herself a dark alley. Once she knew she was alone, she let Tikki out of hiding and put the earrings on in a huff.

“Ugh! I knew this would happen,” said Marinette. “Nights like this just scream “akuma attack.”

“Sorry, Marinette,” said Tikki. “But as the Ladybug, you have your duty.”

Marinette sighed. “I know, I know. It’s just... Ugh!” Marinette stopped herself. “No. No griping. This isn’t about me. Tikki, spots on.”

Meanwhile, back in the ballroom, Fabricator was giggling and grinning as he put his mannequins up in ridiculous poses, laughing to himself.

“My latest line is underway,” he said, “I’ll call it “Tasteless Fools.”

“Since you’re the one who m-m-made the outfits, would that make you the tasteless one?”

Fabricator turned his gaze towards this new critic, and much to his delight, there was Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Miraculous Misfits in their playsuits,” he said with a scoff. “You saved me the trouble of tracking you down. Now it’s time to add your Miraculouses to Hawkmoth’s wardrobe.”

Ladybug took a fighting stance. “Not gonna happen, Fabricator.”

“Yeah, and what m-m-makes you think Hawkmoth can pull off this look?” said Chat as he struck a pose that made Ladybug giggle.

“Give it up, Fabricator,” said Ladybug. “Your freaky fashion show is over.”

“We’ll see about that, Ladybrat,” said the villain as he blasted aimed at the duo.

Ladybug and Chat dodged each blast as best they could, dodging each beam. Anything the beam touched found itself in one bizarre outfit or another. One chair was now dressed as a clown, and another was dressed like a chicken. Each outfit was a clear attempt to make Ladybug and Chat look ridiculous, but thankfully, they hadn’t been hit yet. Chat Noir, growing impatient, rushed over and fought the villain face-to-face, followed by Ladybug

“Time to s-s-s-send you and your designs to the cleaners, Fabricator!” said Chat with a confident smirk.

Fabricator snarled. “Not before I have you de-clawed, kitty boy!”

While her partner distracted Fabricator, Ladybug snuck up behind the villain, and swept his legs.

“ARRGH!”

The villain did not stay down for long, though, springing back onto his feet, he swung at the heroes, only for them to dodge his blows. After that, Ladybug jumped away from the action, and took out her yoyo.

“Now’s as good a time as any,” she said. “LUCKY CHARM!”

The Lucky Charm appeared, and as usual, it only served to baffle the spotted heroine.

“A jar?” she said aloud. “What can I do with a jar?”

Ladybug looked around the room, trying to think about how she could use her seemingly useless weapon. That’s when her Lady-Vision kicked in, and spotted Fabricator’s walking stick.

“Okay, it’s a long shot, but here we go,” she said.

Ladybug rushed the villain, and placed the jar onto the handle of the walking stick. As soon as he tried to blast them again, the blast was stopped and redirected onto the stick, making it hot and causing the villain to drop it.

“AUGH! HOT! HOT!” he screamed.

“CHAT! NOW!” Ladybug called. “DESTROY THE STICK!”

Chat rushed over, and grabbed it. “CATACLYSM!”

As the stick turned to ash, the Akuma appeared, flying toward the window. Now was Ladybug’s chance.

“No more evil doing for you, little Akuma,” she said as she activated her yo-yo. “TIME TO DE-EVILIZE!”

The Akuma was caught, purified in a flash of light, then released.

“Bye-bye, little butterfly,” said Ladybug before tossing the Lucky Charm in the air. “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

Things were settling down as things went back to normal. The villain was defeated, all of the damage was undone, and all of the petrified victims were flesh and blood again. As the evening came to a close, Marinette and her friends regrouped outside.

“So where did Mason Edmund go?” Adrien asked. “I haven’t s-s-s-seen him since before the attack.”

“He left,” said Chloé, rubbing her arm. “I tried apologizing, but he just laughed said that I’ve gone soft.”

Sabrina put a hand on Chloé’s shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, Chloé. At least you tried.”

“Did he apologize for what he said about Marinette?” Adrien asked.

“Not even a little,” said Sabrina.

Adrien growled a little before feeling Marinette’s hand take his.

“I’m okay, you guys, really,” said Marinette. “This night wasn’t all bad anyway.

“What do you mean?” Sabrina asked.

“I got to be with my buttercup. That’s always a plus,”

Adrien blushed as the two of them hugged.

“And not only that, I now know, without a doubt, that Chloé cares about me,” said Marinette.

Chloé blushed. “I mean, I couldn’t just let the Akuma hurt you...”

“Come on, Chloé, don’t be modest,” said Marinette. “You kept me from being a mannequin tonight. You saved my life.”

Chloé cleared her throat. “Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I?” she asked. “We’re friends now, and that’s what friends do, right?”

“Without a d-d-doubt,” said Adrien as he pulled them all in. “Group hug!”

Marinette smiled as she embraced her boyfriend and her former enemies. The night had been far from perfect, but at least it ended on a happy note.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #sabrina raincomprix #chloe bourgeois redemption #post redemption chloe #stammering adrien au #miraculous ladybug fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

jomsimagination · 2 days

Text

surviving? or serving || Rosita Espinosa

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧��𝐬: 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠.

"I think I should do it." Gia said to Eugene, as he just looked at her. "you really think? this is a big step, Gian." Tara reminded her, of course it was a big step for Gia, this could cost her, her life.

"I'll do it. I'll buy a hotel, and place it on that land." Gia says, handing Eugene the amount of money needed as he was the banker. the three of them were playing monopoly to past time, the game had been going on for almost an hour, no one was bankrupt yet.

in fact, they all were still wealthy, they were trying to finish the game early, since any time now, the rest of the group would be back. but none of them wanted to give up, not one of them.

"c'mon! yes!" Tara exclaimed as Eugene landed on her land, meaning he had to pay her. "pay up! man i'm gonna be rich." Tara laughed, Eugene sadly giving her the money. "oh, c'mon. why are you guys not landing on my properties."

Gia still had sulked about it, since out of the three she owned more properties, and they rarely drop in on them. "you're already rich." Eugene says to her, causing for Gia to simply roll her eyes.

"pay up, banker, i crossed the go. no shit!" the wind almost caused the board to flip, but luckily no one's hotel and houses were taken away. it was like a little hurricane and the people living in those little houses in monopoly.

"alright, pack it up guys. let's go." Glenn said to the three. "what hey no." Gia pouted as they protect the board from getting stolen. "we're not done yet. give us five minutes." Eugene tried to negotiate with them.

"you told me that, an hour ago." Maggie said to Eugene. "pack it up, let's go." Maggie gestured to the three to get off of their asses and get into the car. "fine, we're going." Gia sulked as she got into the car, as so did Eugene and Tara.

the three had found the monopoly from a store they looted, it was complete, with the two dice. they said food and water was rare in the apocalypse, but so was board games and anything fun, so it was hard to try and have some fun in the apocalypse.

but at least they had the monopoly to keep them sane, and not turn cay-cray and kill every body. it was also good that Gia finally had people to play board games with, she'd spent hours trying to find limited edition board games, and her brother obviously.

but now she was complete. "fuck off, dude." and now they were playing uno, in the car. "really Eugene, you're gonna hit me with that plus 4?" Rosita exclaimed, in Rosita's defense there was like five more plus four cards. "here's my reaction to that." then she places another plus four.

"oh shit, don't make me do this guys." Gia shakes her head, looking at the other players/rivals of Gia, she looked at Tara apologetically, as if she was about to kill her, well she was, in the game of uno. "I'm sorry, Tara." then Gia did it, she placed another plus four, meaning now Tara had to get twenty eight cards.

"so who's winning?" Maggie asked from the passengers seat. "me! I'm gonna win!" Glenn laughed, since he had two cards left. "uno!" he cheered as he placed down his card, and it was a plus four. "no!" Eugene screamed, and most of them was startled.

"jeez, man it's just a game." Gia mumbled, but he set down his plus four card, Gia assumed it was his last, of course, with the way he screamed and scrunched up his fist, oh wait, no, Gia knew it was his last, the way he screamed, the way he sweat like he was running ten miles. his face was like a baby with diarrhea that's about to bust any second.

oh, Gia knew, he was just about to lose, but Glenn was about to win, Gia remembered Glenn showing off his cards easier, she remembered he showed it of cause he gotten a lot of plus-four cards, which really four, but she remembered his exact movements in placing down the cards, and which cards he placed down.

and if Gia's calculations was right, that meant, that Glenn was gonna win, any way. because he had the color changing plus-four. and that meant, Gia had to lose her only chocolate bar. so she accepted it, she accepted her defeat. plus, she knew damn well that she was gonna be the second one winning.

"Gian, I swear to god place the damn card!" Eugene exclaimed, snapping the said girl out of her thoughts. "fine, here." she placed down her plus four card, looking at Tara apologetically one last time. "shit." Tara mumbled, as she placed a plus four card, Glenn cheered, of course he would cheer, he was about to get a lot of chocolate bars.

he placed down his last card, excitement courses through his body, and with out warning, Eugene places down a card. so, Gia's predicament was wrong, she was smart, how could it all go wrong. or, Eugene really just screamed to taunt, the players. no she was right, she knew she was a hundred percent right.

Gia saw Eugene smirk after placing down his card, Gia knew, oh she knew, it was his plan all along. and now with Rosita, even though she tried to hide it as much as she can, Gia still noticed, Rosita had sweaty palms, and as she placed down her card, it was slow, unlike her usual speed when placing down a card.

Rosita was cool when placing down a card, she placed on the table like she had millions of them, she tried to play it cool, but still Gia noticed it. "I swear to god, Gian!" Eugene exclaimed once again, and again and again, the girl was snapped off of her thoughts and she placed down her plus four cards.

Tara looked at the group, and the next thing they knew, was that the game that they're was about to get hectic, and that the cards turned into 10 plus fours already, when Glenn noticed it, he stopped them. "c'mon guys, Gia. don't you think it's time to stop the game? we all know who's the winner."

"yeah but top two, doesn't get a chocolate bar from each member, but a day off." Gia explained. she was a focused player, no matter how many times they were gonna put that plus four card, Gia will always have the plus four card.

then Rosita placed her last one, Gia knew, why? because she remembered every single one of their decks, except for Eugene, he was across her, and he knew that spot was a blind spot for Gia, he was smart too, Gia needed to remember that.

Tara still had many, many, plus fours to go, that scared Gia. then there she goes, Gia's last plus four. and Tara, she placed down one more. Gia senses extreme panic behind Eugene's eyes, and from there, Gia knew, that she had an opening to win second place.

the game was intense, it was no longer uno. it was a game of last man standing with plus fours, it was a silly game, to past the time, but then it turned into this disgusting, friendship ruiner game.

well not really, they were just over reacting, well it could possibly ruin a friendship with the way Eugene is playing with Gia. then it came to Tara, now, Eugene was really nervous, she knew it, she was smirking to herself, of course it was really a game of poker, no showing of emotions, just poker face.

then it hit them. "no!" Eugene and Gia screamed, causing for them to stumble into each other, most notably Rosita stumbling on top of Gia, she blushed deeply Gia's hands going to her shoulders while Rosita's go on each of her head.

oh what hit them? a walker, just because Abraham, who was not paying attention to the road, accidentally hit one, causing for the game in the back seat to end with no winner. "no! Abraham ford I will kill you!" Gia exclaimed, about to pounce on Abraham, but Rosita stopped her.

"calm down, calm down." Rosita whispers to Gia, which she instead rolls her eyes and sits down starring madly at Eugene, almost like she wanted to kill him. "i won that."

"you did" they mumble admitting their defeat. "yeah, and the Rhee siblings won it once again." Gia says doing her secret handshake with Glenn.

Gia had spent most of the day sleeping or mainly killing some walkers, because they had been banned playing board games for the whole day.

and then it was the next, the Rhee siblings day off, they were chilling in sun like they were on vacation. they were, their first vacation in years. they were not exactly homeless, but they couldn't afford to go on a vacation, who could anyways.

Gia gave her brother a notebook, he raised his brow confused of the notebook his sister gave her. "what's this?" he asked, opening the notebook. "my first ever diary." Gia never in her life had a diary, she was smart about her secrets, she didn't want them to be kept in a notebook for anyone to see, they were secrets for a reason.

"diary?" when Glenn opened the notebook, he could see it takes back to the first day of the apocalypse. he could notice it was fulled to the brim, and at the first page was two polaroid pictures, one was her only, and the other was her and Glenn, on the bottom of the picture was a note saying: Rhee 4ever!!!

and the next three pages was all about Glenn and Gia and their best moments as siblings, at the end of those pages was another note saying: for Glenn's or mine's little Rhee, you're lucky kid, you were born to become a survivor like us. I hope you keep the Rhee name alive. or don't whatever you want. everything is for you lil' Rhee.

Glenn near teared up at that. "this is, really sweet." he muttered. "of course, we were born to survive the apocalypse big bro. we deserve to be in the history of the apocalypse, if surviving ain't enough, then one day we will make something that'll keep them talking for years." Gia said to her brother, again doing their little secret handshake.

"you still have that polaroid?" Glenn asks. "of course. how could I ever lose it, it's my favorite birthday gift." Gia smiles, pulling that specific polaroid out of her bag. It was her favorite gift, why? because it was the most memorable one.

as a kid, Gia wanted that specific polaroid, but when she asked her parents, they said no. Gia understand, but she still spent months saving up, getting it from her school money. but when she finally had enough, instead she gave it to her parents, they were in debt, they barely made enough to pay the rent, Gia from a young age, knew that, she noticed it. so she gave it to them instead.

but what she didn't know was, Glenn was saving up too, from his job in the pizza delivery business. then he brought her it, the polaroid that Gia wanted so much. so, Gia would never forget that moment ever, even in her last days, she would never forget how kind Glenn was even when were kids.

"you still have it." Glenn smiles remembering the memories they made with that polaroid, like taking a picture after Glenn almost drowned or when he got hit by a car.

"hey, i've got something to show you." Glenn pulled two bracelets from her bag. "i got into a deep obsession over making bracelets." he gives one to Gia, while keeping the other one to himself. "that is so you. Rhee matching bracelets!"

"yeah, i made those specifically for you. and us. there was a time, i lost hope for you. i searched for you for-for years. but i didn't find you. i thought i would never find you again, but here you are. finding me. as always. I'm sorry i didn't find you sooner." Glenn stifles as he looks at his sister.

"you don't have to apologize Glenny. i understand. there was also a time where i thought you were gone, but i knew you were the only person i could ever trust, so i kept in finding you. until one day, and rest is history." Gia explains. "picture!" Gia smiled widely, taking a picture of her and Glenn.

"oh c'mon i wasn't prepared." he laugh looking at the picture. "well." she pulls out another notebook, this time empty. she wrote on it: Rhee siblings back at it again!

"for out kids." Gia smiled placing the notebook safely in her backpack. "oh! we should take one with Maggie!" Gia said excitedly. "Maggie, c'mere!" then Gia got Eugene to take them pictures.

Gia's little family was complete, she had her brother now. and a new sister, she was complete. she was happy, despite it being the apocalypse she's happy as ever.

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩, 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩, 𝐰𝐡𝐲? 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐡...

#rosita x reader #rosita espinosa smut #rosita espinosa x reader #the walking dead show #the walking dead #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #twdu #twd

1 note · View note

jakestravels · 2 years

Text

Europe 2022 - Day 31 - Palma de Mallorca

First full day in Palma, and I woke up with quite the crick in my back (Crick? Is that the right word? Is it even a word?) from the so-called “bed” we had in a AirBnb-type room, but was rented on booking.com. I did not handle the booking for this section of the trip - that was left up to my partner-in-crime, Amanda. She had met the woman the night before, got the lay of the land, etc. etc.

I’ll admit, I immediately disliked the place when I first saw it - there’s a scam that locals like to run, and yes, I will call it a scam, where they do exactly what has ruined AirBnb in the U.S. - they rent an inexpensive apartment, don’t live there, and rent each room out and make money hand over fist. I disagree with this practice wholeheartedly - in fact just recently there has been a bubbling up on social media about AirBnb and some of these practices.

However, there’s more to it than that - there are three bits that really frustrate me:

1) By taking potential homes from the market in order to make profit on short-term stays, you are cutting locals out of the quotient for affordable housing. This has serious ramifications.

2) The listing is advertised more as a boutique local-type of experience. In this particular case, hotels are the same price, but the way this property is listed, it appears that it is a quaint fun apartment in an old part of town, run by a local who can give you better access to the real places to be in. In addition, the photos show various amenities including a kitchen, and a “bathroom that is shared between two rooms.” However, the reality is that more than three rooms share one very small bathroom (the pictures make sure to not really show the actual size), the kitchen shown is NOT to be used, and the air conditioning, while existent, is also not allowed to be used. It feels less like we’re renting the place and more like we’re living with our grandma for free.

2) The “local” does not really have time for you - she is there to make money, and will point out the same tired shit every tourist does.

3) in some cases, in order to make even more money, the landlord will rent out their own home, again choosing to not let those who rent truly utilize the space they have paid good money for. More on this in one second, and back to the story...

When I woke, I felt like I had been sleeping on a 2x4 all night, and that’s because I was. Rather than an actual bed, I had been sleeping on a folded-out couch with a thin mattress topper on it. I was already not in love with the place, but this took the cake. However, I also get a bit of anxiety about housing issues, something that stems back to my youth that I care not to speak about at this juncture. So Amanda was nice enough to handle it. We packed, as we were NOT staying, and all I wanted was the money back for future nights. I left for something to drink while Amanda made the call, and she met up with shortly after.

“So I told her, and she apologized,” Amanda said.

“So we’re getting our money back?” I asked.

“Actually, she wants to put us in another property. Says it’s nicer with a proper bed.”

I was skeptical - I felt this woman was already a scam artist, and I really just wanted a hotel. But I went along with it. We met her at the old property, and she walked us to the new one, just minutes away. I walked in, and saw what was going on. We were now staying in her house - She had a total of four bedrooms, including one she slept in, and had turned the living room into what initially appeared to be a shared space with a table and fridge. The kitchen had a door in front of it, so she lived and cooked in her room and kitchen respectively. I saw a computer on the table in the main room, but with no one attached to it.

“Did someone leave their laptop?” I asked.

“No, that’s mine,” she said. You are NOT allowed in this space. You can use the fridge, however (which was set to the warmest setting, and I dared not change it.)

As a parting “gift,” she said, “I’ll even turn on the A/C for a few minutes, but then do not mess with it. It’s expensive.”

Bitch, I am paying $100 a night for a €600 a month apartment (along with two other people paying the same amount) and it is hot and uncomfortable. i will use all the fucking A/C I damn well please. 2/10.

After all the moving about and unpacking, we made it out to the beach. I took a dip for quite some time until the sun went down.

And then some decent rest on a decent bed.

#europe #mallorca #palma #palma de mallorca #beach

0 notes

howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 2 years

Text

The Ungodly Gains Of The World’s Greediest Church

[ The cash that built the Moon organization’s “foundation.” ] Sydney Morning Herald May 7, 1993 by Ben Hills

The Unification Church of Japan stated: “We do not participate in profit-making activities.”

“I don’t feel embarrassment … deep remorse is a better word,” confesses Kiyoharu Takahashi, blinking furiously behind his black-rimmed eyeglasses.

For 400 years, a small plot of land on the urban fringe of Tokyo had been in the family, once retainers of the local daimyo (lord of the manor).

Five years ago, Mr Takahashi, then a university student, aged 26, persuaded his family to take out mortgages over the property. Although there is less than a hectare of land, it contains the family home, a turf farm, a rented house and two blocks of flats.

Even so, it still amazes Kiyoharu how much the banks were prepared to lend on it. By the time the credit dried up, he had received $67.5 million, repayments had fallen behind and the banks were threatening to foreclose. Four centuries of family history were about to go down the drain.

What caused this calamity ?

Every cent of the money – plus another $500,000 or so in savings that the Takahashis had put aside over the years – was handed over to an organisation Japanese are starting to call the greediest church in the world, the Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World Christianity, known to the less devout as the Moonie church.

Its founder and Pope is the Reverend Sun Myung Moon, a 73-year-old, thrice-married father of [more than] 13 who now lives in the United States, where he has done time in prison for [document fraud and] tax evasion.

Although he is better known for his mass marriage spectaculars – last year he hired the Olympic stadium in Seoul to celebrate the wedding of 30,000 followers, most of whom had never met each other before – Moon has spent the last 40 years building up a formidable religious multinational.

And Japan is the place where Moon Industries Inc, a conglomerate that trades under more than 100 corporate identities, has made its most spectacular, and some would say ungodly, gains.

Young Mr Takahashi is only one of 8,350 people who have come forward, claiming they have been ripped off by the Moonies, since a national legal network was set up to help them get their money back six years ago. The total amount they claim to have been cheated out of is a staggering $568 million. Cases are listed in more than a dozen courts. Many of them, like Mr Takahashi, say they have been blackmailed into borrowing beyond their means, then handing the money over. In his case, barely credibly, he was told that his father’s Parkinson’s Disease was due to an ancient curse which could only be lifted from the family by prayer … and enormous amounts of money.

Another reformed Moonie – “Tomiko” is a 34-year-old English teacher from Tokyo – was told her lack of luck in love was because of the “dirty” money which she had saved. She took her life savings, $5,000, to a flat where the Moonies sprinkled salt in the four corners of the room, said prayers, and made it all disappear.

“Unfortunately, Japanese seem more susceptible to this sort of thing than people in other countries,” says Hiroshi Yamaguchi, a member of the lawyers’ network, who is handling cases for 25 former Moonies, including Takahashi, Tomiko, and a woman in Australia who was swindled out of $12,000.

People are being enticed into a range of activities which have no overt connection with the Moonies.

There are about 100 Moonie-owned “video centres” around Tokyo where people are invited in and then recruited.

Another favourite ploy is to organise conferences by front organisations, such as the World Peace Professors’ Academy, the Society of Field Flowers, the Japan-Korea Tunnel Task Force and even the Women’s Federation for World Peace, which last year held a meeting at Sydney’s Ritz Carlton Hotel.

No-one knows how many followers the Reverend Moon has attracted since he went international in the mid-1960s. He claims five million followers in 160 countries (including Australia) but a more realistic assessment by former members of the cult is around one-tenth that number [possibly at the zenith – now many fewer].

Even so, Japan – where there are thought to be around 20,000 hard-core Moonies – is beyond doubt one of the most profitable parts of his empire. Or was, until the recent deluge of bad publicity.

▲ Hiroko Yamasaki

Tokyo’s tabloids have been agog for a month over the disappearance of Hiroko Yamazaki, a 33-year-old former Olympic gymnast, who has provided the church with acres of publicity since her marriage at the mass-wedding in Korea last year to a groom selected for her by the Rev Moon.

She reappeared, renouncing the church and claiming it had all been a terrible mistake.

▲ Hiroko Yamasaki facing nearly 200 journalists in April 1993.

愛が偽りに終わるとき – 山崎浩子 (著)

After being indoctrinated the converts are put out on the streets of Tokyo to bring in other recruits, and to make money selling products door-to-door.

Mr Takahashi displays some of the products he was obliged to sell. There is a 300-gram jar of extract from Korean ginseng (a parsnip-like root which tastes a bit like tobacco and is reputed to be medicinal) – this sold for $1,000, when the over-the-counter price in Korea is about $150. The Reverend Moon’s Il Hwa factory near Seoul is South Korea’s largest ginseng processor.

▲ Il Hwa Ginseng. In tests, no medicinal benefits have been shown.

A set of three name-seals, worth about $125, is sold for up to $15,000. All Moonies dream of selling the jewelled pagoda – a model studded with what look like bits of glass that goes for $67,500.

After her conversion, Tomiko became a real cash cow. Even though she had no property to put up as collateral, she borrowed more than $50,000 from eight different banks and handed it over. She sold her family a garage full of Moonie products – her mother paid $20,000 for a kimono, her father $8,000 for a sauna, among other things. “I became a saleswoman … they said it was the way to achieve heaven on earth.”

Gullible? Perhaps. But 8,349 more like her? Sadao Asami, professor of theology at Tohoku University, believes that there is something about the Japanese that makes them more susceptible to Moon’s brand of religion.

Professor Asami has earned a nickname, “the Devil’s priest”, from the Moonies because of the help he has given hundreds of families, “rescuing” their children from the Moonies. He has worked with 500 to 600 former followers. He says that Japanese remain dependent on their parents much longer than people in the West, and that they are thus more immature. As well, the Japanese culture entertains a variety of religious and superstitious beliefs.

They also, says Mr Yamaguchi, have a lot of money.

Until recently, the Tokyo Moonies have been trying to quietly settle most of the claims out of court. However, in January, Michio Fujii, the head of the church in Japan, wrote to Mr Yamaguchi apologising for the “mismanagement of subordinates of the Unification Church” – but saying that repayment of money would be “temporarily stopped”.

This means that Mr Takahashi is in trouble. The church had repaid most of the money and had taken over repayments on the loans. But $3 million is outstanding. The Moonies’ headquarters is in the fashionable suburb of Shibuya, a three-storey building that occupies most of a city block.

Unfortunately, neither Mr Fujii, nor anyone else, was willing to put the church’s point of view on these serious allegations. They later sent an anonymous fax, denying everything and claiming bare-facedly: “We do not participate in profit-making activities.”

The Unification Church’s own publications boast of a global business empire valued in the hundreds of millions of dollars.

The core is the Sae-il engineering company, which began making air-rifles, and now manufactures machine-tools in Korea, Germany and Africa. Then there is the Il-Hwa company which produces more than 40 different pharmaceutical products, ginseng and soft-drinks; in Alabama, there is International Oceanic Enterprises which catches and packs seafood; in Alaska, the Master Marine company makes fibreglass fishing trawlers; the Moonies own the Paragon House publishing firm, the Washington Times newspaper and a four-storey complex in Barrytown, New York, where they run a theological seminary.

Although his worries are not over, Mr Takahashi – along with several thousand other former converts – is thankful to be out of it. And not to have to go through with the “marriage” he had in 1988 … along with 6,499 other couples. In a hall at a Seoul soft-drink factory, he saw his bride for the first time. “I had built up expectations of how beautiful she was going to be,” he says “When I saw her I got vertigo.”

Two of his fellow Moonies committed suicide. One, a middle-aged woman who was being pressured into handing over some land, jumped off a building. Another, a man who was married at a mass wedding, jumped in front of a car.

“At the time I believed in it,” says Mr Takahashi, “Now I know it was only blackmail and lies aimed at getting their money.”

_____________________________________

source:

Japan High Court judge upholds “Moon Church used members for profit, not religious purposes.”

After Tetsuya Yamagami’s mother was recruited into the Unification Church her three children had nothing to eat.

The Unification Church sought members by reading obituary columns in newspapers, to identify grieving relatives or spouses. They would pay a visit to console and recruit them.

Suicide of Japanese ‘Moon money mule’ in Uruguay. Mother of three children

Why did a Japanese Unification Church member kill her Korean husband?

Japanese Unification Church member beaten by several men who were unhappy with her tithing

#Sun Myung Moon #Unification Church #suicide #Hak Ja Han

1 note · View note

kaunis-sielu · 3 years

Text

Fire Dogs: End

The trip out to New York is uneventful. You sleep in the car occasionally but you do stop at a couple of hotels you never sleep super well. Besides there’s something about being in a car with your Alpha that just soothes you to sleep. You wake at one point and hear him talking softly on the phone.

“Nat, I don’t want a big party. It’s going to stress her out and she’s probably going to be close to a heat so I don’t want a ton of people around. Just you, Clint, Wanda, Carol and Jarvis.”

“Everyone is so excited though.”

“They’re going to have to wait. Her well-being is my first concern.”

“Steve,”

“Natasha.” He warns lowly and you hear her sigh.

“Fine. Fine. I’ve got a few places lined up for you to look at as well as a property so if building your own place is more appealing you can do that. I don’t know how sensitive your Omega’s nose is.”

“I doubt she does either. We’re about four hours out. Thanks for doing all of this Nat.”

“I’m glad you finally found someone worthy of you Alpha.” You don’t love that she calls him Alpha, so you take a deep breath so Steve knows that you’re awake.

“Thank you Natasha. See you soon.”

“Bye.” She says and Steve hangs up.

“How much did you hear?”

“Her call you Alpha.” You admit grumpily and he laughs softly.

“Are you a little jealous?” When you grumble in response he sobers up, “They all do that Omega, not just Natasha. It’s a respect thing.”

“It was jarring. You’re my Alpha.”

“I know, I’m sorry I should’ve warned you.” He soothes, his hand is warm on your thigh when he reaches over. You trace the back of his hand with one of your fingers.

“How close are we?”

“About 4 hours, you need to stop?”

“No, I was just curious. I’m nervous too, I’m meeting your pack.”

“You’re only meeting a couple today. The rest will trickle in when you’re ready, take as long as you need.”

“Okay, thank you.”

The rest of the ride is spent in comfortable conversation and singing along to the radio. He puts you at such ease that you forget to be anxious, at least until Steve pulls off of the freeway.

“Take a breath Honey, it’s going to be fine.” He promises and you cling to his hand as he drives for a couple more minutes then pulls up to a little house. “Let me know when you’re ready to go in.”

“Can, god this is so stupid, can you calm me?”

“Oh Honey I can absolutely do that. C’mere.” He mutters before kissing you softly, his hands cup your face and you feel the sense of calm wash over you. He pulls away from you then kisses along your jaw, before covering your mouth once more. “How do you feel Omega?” He murmurs softly and you hum lowly.

“Good.”

“Ready?”

“Yes, as I will ever be.” His calm makes you feel a little drowsy but it’s better than the panic you could be in. Steve gets out of the car and you follow him, Cooper waits patiently in the back to be let out. You take his leash and he walks calmly next to you, Steve meets you at the front of the car. He takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze,

“I don’t think anyone is here yet.” Sure enough when he unlocks the door the house is empty.

“Oh god it smells good in here.” You mutter softly, “Can I let Cooper wander?”

“It’s your house too now Honey. You don’t have to ask.” You unhook Cooper’s leash and he wanders around the living room. “You look good in here, you belong here.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Steve.” You tell him giving him a tight hug.

“Oh Honey.” He says gently before kissing your cheek. “Wanna see the house?” You nod and he leads you through the house showing you where things are. The doorbell rings and you tense up and the calm washes over you again as Steve presses a kiss to the side of your head. Cooper barks and you can’t help but smile at the familiarity of it all.

“Thanks Steve.” You follow him downstairs and when the door opens it’s just Sam and Bucky and a pretty blonde woman who you assume is Carol.

“Had to fight Becca to get her to stay home.” Bucky says with a punch to Steve’s arm, “thought she was gonna scream me to death when I told her ‘bout your Omega.” Carol gives you a kind smile as she follows Sam into the house, she smells like Oranges and chocolate.

“Wish she would’ve screamed you to death. Then we wouldn’t have to listen to your dumb ass anymore.” Sam says lowly.

“I see the two of you have had enough time together.” Carol says with a laugh, “Hi Fawn, I’m Carol. Sam’s much, much better half.” She doesn’t try to shake your hand or touch you in anyway which you appreciate.

“Hi, thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for spoiling Sam, he says you’re one hell of a cook.” She says kindly, “We live right next door so when the boys are at work feel free to call if you need anything.” She puts a business card down on the end table then drops down onto Sam’s lap.

Next comes a young woman with auburn hair and a tall man with purple hair. Steve introduces them as Wanda, an Alpha and Viz, a Beta. They’re one of the newer pairs in Steve’s pack but it seems like everyone was just kind of waiting for it to happen. Wanda is a calm in the storm that is the three other Alpha’s currently wresting for control of the remote on your couch.

“Enough.” Steve growls at the three of them as their scents spike and you bury your face into his chest.

Natasha and Clint come next, Nat is the one that you’d heard on the phone earlier and when you see her that little possessiveness rears it’s head. She’s beautiful. “Omega.” Steve rumbles into your ear and you feel so silly for being jealous of her using his title.

“You didn’t do her justice Rogers.” She says giving you a kind smile, one you tightly return. She and Clint are both Betas, she’s more smoky smelling and he’s more earthy but both are pleasant. She calls Steve Alpha once but he quickly pulls her aside and after they talk quietly she doesn’t do it again. Overall the night is a success, and you go to bed happy.

The next day is spent looking at different houses they’re about thirty minutes outside of the city. The first neither of you is thrilled with, the second doesn’t have a yard for Cooper, the third is off a busy street and smells terrible but when you pull up to the plot of land it all clicks.

“Would you be mad if I said I wanted to build?” You ask Steve as you stand at the top of the hill the property is on. The view here is incredible overlooking a river and some woods below you.

“Not at all.” He assures you, a hand on the small of your back, “whatever it takes to make you happy.”

“It’s going to be so expensive.”

“That’s okay. I’m independently wealthy.” You stare up at him for a second to see if his kidding,

“I’m sorry what?”

“Old money. If you didn’t want to you’d never have to do another book again.”

“Why are you a firefighter?”

“I like serving the community, and I’m good at it.” You stare at him for a moment longer then look back out over the property.

“This feels right doesn’t it?”

“Yea Honey it does.” He agrees, so you sign some paperwork and buy the plot of land. You want to get building started before your heat hits and you smell like an Omega and you do so just in time. Apparently Clint runs a very successful construction firm so you get the layout of the house done in two days.

When you wake on the third day you know you’re in your heat. You wake up feeling just as tired as you did yesterday and everything smells so bad except Steve. He goes to get up and you whimper softly, and he freezes as you reach out to him.

“Honey are you in heat?”

“I think so. It’s been so long since I’ve had an actual heat.”

“Do you want to talk to one of our Omegas?”

“You actually have those?” He huffs out a chuckle.

“Yea, not many but we do. Becca is one.” A cramp hits and you gasp in surprise. Steve reaches for his phone and you grab onto his arm.

“No, I just need you Steve.”

“Omega are you sure?”

“Yes, please Steve. I wanted to be sure that without my suppressants you were still my Alpha. You are. Please.” He rolls so that he’s on top of you, his knees between yours an arm on either side of your head and his scent all around you. “You smell so good Steve.”

“So do you Omega.” He grumbles he’s about to kiss you when his phone rings. You both groan loudly before he rolls off of you and grabs it.

“What?” Someone on the other end talks, “No, my Omega is in heat.” He says before hanging up. The phone rings again before he even puts it down so he stalks to the window, opens it and throws the phone outside.

“You know there is such thing as a power button.”

“I was going to smash it so I feel like I should get some credit for my self control.” He says stalking back toward you. This time his mouth finds yours before he’s settled back over you, his dog tags hit your chest and you cling to them keeping him close to you. Steve kisses down your jaw to your pulse point then down to your scent gland.

“Do it.” You whisper, “please.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You’ve never been more sure about anything in your life. You feel his breath on your scent gland and you take a slow breath, then he bites. The pain and pleasure are so overwhelming that you black out. When you come to Steve is still placing soft kisses to your face.

“Omega. You back?”

“That was- indescribable. Thank you Alpha.”

“Careful Honey or you’re going to trigger my rut and then I won’t be able to spoil you.”

“I don’t need to be spoiled.”

“Too damn bad Honey. You’re going to be for the rest of your life. Now, I’m gonna go make some breakfast Becca always said day two was the harder day so I want to make sure you’re up to strength.” He goes to get up but you’ve still got a grip on his dog tags. “Omega.”

“You don’t wanna? I mean I thought-“

“Oh Omega I want you, terribly, but I don’t want to wear you out for tomorrow. From what I remember day one is for lots of sleep and comfort, day two is for sex and day three is for more sleep and comfort. Do you want me to have Bucky come take Cooper?”

“Yea. But you’ll have to go get your phone.”

“Damn it.” He grumbles but he gets to his feet, grabs the shirt he was wearing before bed and passes it to you before getting a clean one for himself. You pull his shirt on and sigh happily brushing your fingers gently over his mark. Steve glances over at you and gives you a small smile then holds a hand out for yours. “Wanna come with me to the kitchen? I can kiss ya some more while we cook.” You nod and climb out of bed with a wide smile taking the hand he offers, you’ll gladly go wherever he goes for rest of your life.

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @eralen @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger @blackwidownat2814 @sky0401 @winterbuckystan1917 @dontbescaredtosingalong

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader au #alpha steve rogers x reader #alpha steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers x omega reader #alpha!steve rogers #firefighter #firefighter!steve rogers x reader #firefighter!steve rogers #firefighter!au #fire dogs story

174 notes · View notes

findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

Text

Dream SMP Recap (June 18/2021) - The Outpost Conflict

---

I’m trying out a bit of a new format today! Let me know which one you prefer, or if there’s anything you’d like to suggest!

Maybe it will stick, maybe it won’t, but since a lot happened today, this recap is less edited-down than usual and it’s put beneath a cut with some extra labels for each big “section.” I’ll probably continue to stick to the normal format for less story-heavy days.

---

The day starts off normal enough, with Ponk building a statue and Foolish working on a gas station.

When Ranboo and Tubbo begin building out a new wall to expand their outpost, though, Quackity comes online to confront them with Purpled and Foolish, getting into a heated territorial dispute.

Tommy meets Slime and begins constructing a railway around Las Nevadas, speaking with Quackity along the way. Slime ends up getting kidnapped over a conflict surrounding Linda the shovel.

After Tubbo tells him about some history that surprises him, Ranboo tries to think through how he feels about it until he comes across a visitor at the outpost.

Ranboo later gets into another lengthy debate with Quackity about the border conflict, after which Quackity speaks with Purpled and Foolish about a possible new plan for Las Nevadas:

An underground district of the city.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Tubbo

Captain Puffy

Tommyinnit

Ranboo

BadBoyHalo

QuackityToo

---

DREAM SMP RECAP: JUNE 18, 2021

!! UNDER THE CUT !!

---

SECTIONS:

1. Tom Bee

2. Quackity’s Arrival

3. Tommy and Slime Arrive

4. Ranboo and Slime

5. Quackity vs. Ranboo, Area 51

---

--- TOM BEE ---

- Ponk tells his landlord story to chat at the Thiccatron

- He makes copious amounts of TNT. He goes and places a single piece on top of the rebuilt Pickle’s head

- Ponk goes to the summer home and brings his supplies to his shack there, then creates a giant statue of Tom Bee wired with redstone

- Foolish logs on by where Ponk is standing. He turns around to see the present

- Ponk places down a sign:

---

MOON = FAKE

---

and immediately logs out.

- Foolish tries shooting the target block and the Tom Bee statue blinks. Ponk logs back on to say he passed the test, and the next one will be in four working days. He logs back out again

- Foolish sneaks over to the outpost. Ranboo is there, and Foolish keeps stealthy. He spies on Ranboo from the wall until Ranboo notices and comes over, breaking his cover

- Ranboo tells him to leave. Foolish asks for a cookie and Ranboo gives him some

- They discuss gas stations and Foolish asks if he can have a summer job at the outpost to pay off loans. Ranboo declines, as they already have three employees (himself, Tubbo and the guard fox)

- Foolish leaves to start building a gas station just off the main road to Las Nevadas

- Tubbo and Ranboo begin constructing a new wall for the outpost, expanding it outwards

--- QUACKITY’S ARRIVAL ---

- Quackity logs on and whispers to Foolish that there’s an issue. The two speak in Las Nevadas

- Quackity looks at the outpost. Foolish explains the new wall came about extremely quickly. The two walk to the outpost, remarking that it doesn’t look like much of a “cookie outpost”

- Quackity has an idea, and he wants Foolish’s warrior experience for guidance. He’s thinking of covering up the river, making that their border, and building up an even bigger wall. He starts placing down cobblestone to demonstrate

- Ranboo spots Quackity building up outside the outpost, putting his armor on

- Quackity says the walls can’t get any closer. Ranboo challenges this

- Foolish starts building up beside Quackity. The two build a tall wall of cobblestone outside

- Tubbo and Ranboo consider blowing up the ugly wall.

- Purpled comes over to join Quackity and Foolish and Quackity tells Foolish about how he recruited Purpled. Foolish’s main experience with Purpled in the past was when he hired Purpled to kill the L’Sandburgians

- As Quackity fills Purpled in on the plan, Tubbo messages back and forth with Foolish

- They join the Las Nevadans’ VC and Quackity asks why Tubbo’s cookie outpost has a giant wall. Tubbo and Ranboo say the wall is outside of Las Nevadas’ border and is on their land

- Quackity is willing to settle it in court. He tells them about some of their plans for new business and billboards. He offers for Tubbo to advertise their cookie outpost in Las Nevadas

- Quackity offers a compromise for them to take down their walls in return for the cobble wall getting taken down as well

- Quackity finds the wall threatening and asks Foolish and Purpled’s opinions on the wall. Purpled explains how the property value is being lowered by the cookie outpost wall. Tubbo whispers to Ranboo that he has several stacks of TNT

- Quackity says that he and Tubbo can have a private conversation, as Tubbo is a lawyer as well

- Tubbo and Quackity go up to the Needle to look over the land. Quackity doesn’t want Tubbo building towards his country. He doesn’t want to fight Tubbo because of their history, though

- Tubbo explains that he builds walls because he knows things he builds tend to be destroyed, and he needs protection. Quackity offers him a treaty of peace as long as Tubbo takes down the extra wall

- While Quackity and Tubbo argue, Purpled, Foolish and Ranboo stand in a circle throwing miscellaneous items at each other

- Quackity doesn’t want a repeat of L’manburg and doesn’t understand why a cookie outpost would need a wall. Tubbo suggests they get a border map drawn up

- Tubbo wants the borders to follow the river, but Quackity disagrees and wants square borders and flat lines

- While Tubbo and Quackity continue to negotiate, Purpled, Foolish and Ranboo play with a red sheep, jumping around it excitedly

- Quackity reminds Tubbo of how L’manburg started as only a drug van that turned into a massive nation. The outpost may seem innocent at first, but Quackity doesn’t want a repeat of history

- Tubbo says he wants reimbursement before he takes down the wall out of principle, since he spent a lot of time on it. Quackity points out he can’t have formed an emotional attachment to the wall already

- Purpled, Fundy and Ranboo contain the red sheep in a small pit in the ground

- Quackity quotes Sun Tzu and says that Tubbo has the high ground. Tubbo says Quackity’s painting him as the enemy

- They get a second red sheep and put it in the pit with the first one, throwing some more miscellaneous items into it

- Quackity says that Jack Manifold taking Tommy’s hotel never sat right with him. He doesn’t like the wall. He leads Tubbo back down

- They go outside to the others and continue bickering about the borders. Quackity is upset that their reunion is a legal dispute

Quackity: “Well why would you come and build this outpost right here?! Especially after not talking to me for so long?!”

Tubbo: “To be close to people -- that’s because you dropped off the radar! What did you want from me?!”

Quackity: “You saw what happened with Technoblade! Why’d you never come talk to me? Why’d you never come try and find me?”

Tubbo: “‘Cause you ran off, and, like, I dunno, I assumed you were going through stuff. So I’d never came and find you or even, like, reached out, ‘cause how was I supposed to contact you.”

- Quackity takes Tubbo into a separate call to discuss things further. Las Nevadas isn’t finished yet, and the walls jeopardize Quackity’s expansion. He’s already had a similar dispute and explains what happened with Wilbur, and how his space has become limited with both Wilbur and Eret boxing him in

- Tubbo suggests open borders. Quackity says that would mean Tubbo would be under Las Nevadas law, but Tubbo disagrees

- Quackity proposes that they consider Tubbo’s outpost an embassy of Snowchester, while everything else is under Las Nevadas’ jurisdiction

- Tubbo suggests Quackity follow the path of least resistance instead of targetting Tubbo. Quackity says he’ll deal with Wilbur and Eret, but he wants to deal with Tubbo with words. He doesn’t want the outpost there

- They return to the others having gotten nowhere. They keep bickering for several more minutes

- Tubbo asks Foolish why he changed his mind from yesterday, where Foolish built a palm tree

- Quackity says that if he doesn’t stop Tubbo and Ranboo from building this place, what’s stopping them from going around and claiming other things if he lets them have this piece of land? He has to put his foot down

- Quackity says they’ll get rid of the outpost if they don’t come to an agreement. He will not allow more expansion

Quackity: “Is that how you want to take it, Tubbo? Is that where you want to take it?”

Tubbo: “Big Q...what’s happened to you?”

“What’s happened to you, Tubbo?! I’m making a really fair request! I have a country in the middle of nowhere and you decided to come in front of my country and build this massive structure, which you call a cookie outpost -- really, it’s a military outpost! It’s a strategic military outpost, that’s what it is.”

Tubbo: “Yeah, that’s what it is.”

Quackity: “Why wouldn’t you choose -- what?”

- Whether it is or isn’t, Tubbo says, is his business. Quackity says it is his business since it’s right by his country

Quackity: “I’ll bleed and die for my country, Tubbo. Whether it be you, Tommy, whoever else, I’ll bleed and die for my goddamn country!”

- Quackity would rather they come to a compromise. Tubbo says it’s hard to come to a compromise with someone who isn’t compromising

- Quackity doesn’t know why Tubbo would want a strategic military position outside of Las Nevadas and he doesn’t have a good history with walls. He doesn’t want there to be conflict

Quackity: "Tubbo, I'm going to get rid of this cookie outpost."

Tubbo: "Best of luck."

- There’s not enough space in this land. Foolish asks about how Tubbo is with Tommy and Wilbur, how they might join them

- Ranboo says he’s never been violent and they aren’t a threat. Quackity reminds Ranboo about what happened with George’s house, and there’s a first time for everything

- Quackity once believed in peace, and it didn’t work out for him

- Tubbo states that whether or not the outpost is a military base, it doesn’t matter, it could go either way. They should take it up at a later date, once he’s thought things through.

- The two speak in private again

Tubbo: “Hey, so you said you play a lot of Civ V, right?”

Quackity: “Yeah.”

Tubbo: “Are you aware of what Gandhi does in Civ V?”

- While Quackity starts telling him to explain himself, Tubbo immediately hangs up on him. Tubbo returns to the outpost

- Meanwhile, Quackity speaks with Ranboo with Foolish and Purpled. Ranboo warns Quackity to not do anything that would directly harm Tubbo

- Ranboo leaves and Quackity talks with Foolish. For the time being, they’re keeping the Las Nevadas walls up

- Ranboo speaks with Tubbo. Tubbo says they won’t try to fight Quackity. He hasn’t done anything bad towards them yet, and has two other fronts to deal with

- Foolish tells Quackity about how Tubbo lost a nuke, and they aren’t sure who would have it. Las Nevadas isn’t giving into them

- Quackity tells the other two that everyone is going to look for conflict, and he wants to give them a chance to back out now

Foolish: “I’ve been in the sand long enough, and...I think it’s time to change things.”

Purpled: “If I went through all of that just to leave this place, I don’t know where I’d be or what I’d do. I mean there’s not really other options for me, are there.”

- Quackity asks how powerful the nukes are. Foolish tells him he’s seen where they built them and they’ve done a test

- Las Nevadas needs the walls. Quackity wants to run tests with canons to test strength of materials

- Foolish asks who’s a part of Las Nevadas. Foolish hasn’t met Slime yet

- Meanwhile, Tubbo and Ranboo listen to a disc together at the outpost, looking out across the land

- They plan to just let Quackity cool off a bit. Ranboo has no quarrel with Quackity and thinks he’s probably a good person. Tubbo says he’s done some questionable things

- Tubbo tells him Quackity was actually the whole driving force behind Technoblade’s execution. Ranboo doesn’t hold it against him. Tubbo’s worried he’s been on his own for so long that he doesn’t know how the world works anymore

- Tubbo also says that Quackity wanted to execute Ranboo, but Tubbo managed to talk him down

Tubbo: “...Did you know I got executed?”

Ranboo: “Hm?”

Tubbo: “Yeah, I know. Have I never told you this?”

Ranboo: “H -- no, you -- you have -- you -- you did?”

Tubbo: “Yeah. Technoblade. Blew me up.”

Ranboo: “What? He -- why did he blow you up?”

Tubbo: “He was peer-pressured into it by Schlatt and Big Q.”

Ranboo: “Like -- by Quackity again?”

Tubbo: “Yeah, see, I’m starting to establish a pattern of behavior, if you know what I mean.”

- He cautions Ranboo to keep it in the back of his mind in regards to Quackity

Ranboo: “Are you -- are you okay? From that?”

Tubbo: “Yeah, I’m fine. Yeah, you know, a little bit burnt from the firework explosions, but you know, it’s fine.”

- Tubbo’s concerned that there might be something sinister going on beneath the surface of Las Nevadas, which is why he wants to observe. If it’s between violence and nonviolence, though, he wants to do things nonviolently if possible

Ranboo: “Are we doing the right thing?”

Tubbo: “Um...we’re kinda just chilling out, we’re doing our own thing. I mean, right and wrong depends on which side you are. Right and wrong isn’t really a fair way to describe things, like, I’ve done shitty things. You’ve done -- you’ve unknowingly done shitty things, but you know.”

Ranboo: “Am I a bad person because of that?”

Tubbo: “No. Like I said, right and wrong just depends what side you’re on.”

Ranboo: “Okay...you would tell me if I was a bad person though, right?”

Tubbo: “Yeah, I’d tell you if you step out of line. And, like so, you’d do the same for me, yeah?”

Ranboo: “Yeah, yeah, of course, of course.”

Tubbo: “Yeah.”

Ranboo: “We’ll just be...safe.”

Tubbo: “Yeah, if we just stick to our side of the river...”

- And if all hell breaks loose, they have a deterrent

- Quackity takes the Las Nevadans to the side of the outpost and says he wants weapons there. They discuss plans for where to build their wall

- Foolish asks who’s the bigger threat to Las Nevadas right now. Quackity isn’t as worried about Tommy and Wilbur, whereas Ranboo and Tubbo have done rapid expansion

- Foolish has several stacks of obsidian. He asks if Quackity wants any sabotage happening...

- Quackity says that if they so much as destroy a single block of sand, they will react. But until then, they’ll just create the wall. He likes where Foolish’s mind is going, though

Foolish: “Making me feel young again, Quackity!”

- Sam mentioned having a gunpowder farm. Quackity will speak with him

- Quackity asks Foolish about this thing called “L’Sandburg...” Foolish starts explaining it. He says it’s a similar dispute to this one with BadBoyHalo

- Quackity isn’t sure what Tubbo’s relationship with Tommy is nowadays. Foolish tried asking about it and it seems like they went their separate ways

- Quackity asks Foolish and Purpled at how good they are at PvP. Purpled’s pretty good, Foolish might be a bit rusty. Quackity is awful and asks if they could help him train

- Quackity asks Purpled what his relationship with Dream was back in the day. Back in the days of L’manburg, Purpled didn’t have a strong allegiance to anyone. There was never any point where he and Dream really spoke much. Same with everyone else

- As for who Purpled got along with...not really anyone in particular. There was no one person that Purpled was long-term friends with. He spoke with Punz some, but hasn’t seen him in a while. (Foolish saw him recently making a giant trampoline)

- Foolish talks about the missing nuke and mentions he used to be part of Snowchester -- Quackity, hearing this, presses him on it, surprised to learn it. Foolish joined in his first few days, but they kept things from him

- Quackity asks if Snowchester ever tested the nukes, how much damage they could do. Foolish saw the crater

- Quackity asks Purpled if he was there for the destruction of L’manburg. Foolish wasn’t, but Purpled was. Nukes weren’t used, but it was destroyed all the way down to bedrock. If they could replicate that device for defense purposes...

- Foolish also suggests they put together one of the flying versions of the TNT machines. TNT flying bombers. Quackity likes the idea. He wants to be ready for anything

- Quackity tells them both about what happened with Wilbur

Quackity: “When someone goes and claims a part of your land, you don’t really know how to react. But Wilbur took that plot of land and claimed it as his own. What I should’ve done was prevent it from escalating...”

- Foolish asks if Quackity plans to recruit other people. There are a lot of people Quackity hasn’t spoken to, and if he finds people with potential, he might ask them

Quackity: “We don’t want sleepy people in the country.”

Foolish: “Who’s a sleepy person you’re thinking of?”

- Quackity reminds them about George sleeping through the elections. He asks what’s the last they’ve heard about Niki. Foolish last saw her while working on Kinoko, as she was under there first. Quackity is surprised to learn this

- Foolish tells them a bit about what Ponk’s been doing

- There’s also the new guy, Michael. Foolish has spoken with him and thinks he could possibly fit in

- As Foolish and Purpled continue to work on covering up the river, Fundy comes over and Foolish fills him in on what happened

- Fundy is wearing Quackity’s outfit (he went into Quackity’s closet and stole an outfit that fit him). Quackity comes back and notices, telling him he looks great!

- Quackity tells Fundy about what’s going on. They’re building walls right now

- While everything goes on back at the mainland, Puffy takes down her L’Llamaburg towers with plans to move to a more discreet location

--- TOMMY AND SLIME ARRIVE ---

- Tommy logs on and goes exploring around Las Nevadas a bit (and running into Purpled) before heading home. He notices that there aren’t many railways around

- He returns to Las Nevadas and sees Tubbo’s outpost. He makes it to the tollbooth and meets Foolish face to face. He passes through and goes to the headquarters. Wilbur said the goal was to upset Quackity

- Meanwhile, the Las Nevadans go over to the edge and see Tommy down there. Tommy speaks with Tubbo and Ranboo, who both come over to Fort Big

- Tommy makes a memorial for Ghostbur

- Quackity still has his Manberg war banner. Fundy shows him his prized heirloom, Shclatt, passed down to him from Schlatt himself as he died. Quackity also has stacks of obsidian from the L’manburg wall, one of which he keeps for history purposes

- Foolish points out how Tommy is traumatized by Dream and shows Quackity how he can put on Dream’s head to scare him, saying they can play mental games as well.

He also has the Wilbur head as well and puts it on

Fundy: “Oh, I’m not too keen on that one...”

- Fundy presents the Las Nevadas shield to Quackity

- Tommy drinks the invisibility potion and sneaks over to where the Las Nevadans are standing. They know he’s there, but can’t see him

- Tommy shows himself to them as a pair of pants, introducing himself as “Trousers.” He asks if he can join and gamble. Quackity shows him a gambling machine: a pit of lava he can step into

- “Trousers” asks why they hate Wilbur. Quackity says it’s because Wilbur was one of the reasons L’manburg was destroyed (he read it on a Wiki somewhere)

- Tommy notices his time running out and quickly runs back to Fort Big, getting away from them and speaking with Tubbo and Ranboo again. Slime is there watching by the restaurant as he runs by

- Tommy explains Karl Marx to Ranboo while the Las Nevadans discuss what happens “when two pants love each other very much”

- They introduce Slime to Foolish while Tommy comes up with an idea to build a railway around Las Nevadas

- Slime is wearing a new outfit -- a green version of Quackity’s clothes

- They clarify to Slime that pants do not have sex and Quackity goes to ask Tommy what he’s doing. Tommy tells him he’s creating a free railway that costs no money. Ranboo says he’s not involved

- While they talk about Slime’s fear of pants, Slime refers to Foolish as “Foolish From a Long Time Ago”

- Quackity threatens to destroy Tommy’s country the same way Tommy destroyed his house all that time ago

- Quackity brings Tommy over to apologize to Slime for scaring him

Slime: “Hey Tommyinnit From a Bunch of Places, thank goodness you’re not pants!”

- Tommy tells Quackity that he knows Quackity was trying to manipulate him into joining Las Nevadas, and he doesn’t stand with him

- Quackity asks his relationship with Ranboo and Tubbo. Tommy says they’re friends. Quackity apologizes for what happened with Wilbur the other day

- Meanwhile, Slime and the others talk about flowers “breeding” and Foolish asks if earthquakes are mitosis

- Tommy and Quackity talk about Wilbur. Quackity says he’s just returning the favor by rejecting Wilbur from his country. Tommy tells him two wrongs don’t make a right. You can’t just exclude people

- Quackity asks, what if Dream one day walks out of prison and wants to join Tommy’s country? Tommy says it’s different, Wilbur’s changed and Dream hasn’t -- but Quackity asks how exactly Wilbur’s changed

- If Tommy ever wants to have a conversation, Quackity will be in Las Nevadas. He holds no grudges. Quackity leaves and Tommy works on the railway

- Quackity comes back to the Las Nevadans to find that they’re having The Talk. He tells them that Wilbur was manipulating Tommy into joining him

Slime: “Manipulation? That sounds bad!”

Quackity: “Manipulation is bad, Slime!”

- Quackity says goodbye and heads out. Slime sees in full panoramic vision

- Slime digs himself into a hole. Then he tries to teach Foolish how to do mitosis

- Slime asks Foolish what “among us” is and asks if he is “Susicle”

- Tommy comes over

Slime: “Tommyinnit From Nowhere in Particular!”

- He asks them to come to the casino, explaining that he lost something through gambling that he needs to build his railway: his “romantic shovel”

- Slime gives Tommy a loan to gamble for her back. He asks Tommy what “sympathy” is. Tommy scares him away by pretending to be pants

- Tommy tells Foolish his shovel was named “Linda.” Foolish goes to check the system (going outside and retrieving Linda from his Ender Chest)

- Tommy won’t leave until he gets the shovel back and threatens to “take the boy,” turning to Slime and offering to lead him to a box that he can sit in forever. Foolish has Linda, but he wants something in return for spending his money gambling to get her

- Tommy takes a piece of Slime and starts walking away with Slime following to retrieve himself

Tommy: “You’re going to be such a good prisoner.”

Slime: “Like Dream!”

- Foolish puts on the Dream head and Tommy starts running, telling Charlie to follow him. He brings Charlie to Fort Big and puts Slime in a hole

- Slime starts doing mitosis. Tommy tells him to not do it and asks if he would like to betray Foolish, telling him that “betrayal is good.”

Slime: “Dream From Manhunt ate him!”

- They drop some bars

Tommy: “My name is Tommyinnit and I’m here to say, I keep prisoners in a different way! I - am - immoral!”

- Foolish starts digging Slime out. He gives Tommy a fake Linda but Tommy notices the difference. Tommy reminds Slime about betrayal and tells Foolish to leave

- They ask if Slime is having fun

Slime: “I have just been having a time! Since I was sludge! None of it has been good, none of it has been bad, it’s all just been time! Oozing onwards to the inevitable destruction of everything! One day we will all be soup, so in a way I’m not so different than the inescapable future!”

Tommy: “What he means is he’s having fun.”

- Foolish leaves. Tommy keeps Slime’s gloop, which gives him 33% control over what Slime does. The Prisoner Hole in Fort Big will be Slime’s home, and they’ll upset Quackity

- Slime says he’s (definitely not) a pile of goop that’s been in the ground observing everything. Tommy notes that they seem quite alike

Slime: “Tommyinnit...I haven’t been exiled!”

- Tommy asks how he knows. Slime saw. Why didn’t he help? Slime says he glooped around a little.

- Tommy leaves Slime in the hole. He has the idea to threaten him as the legs later

- Foolish worries that if Tommy gets Linda back, he’ll lose the one bargaining chip he has over Tommy and Tommy will just manipulate Slime, who is very impressionable

- Maybe next time he should just fight back instead of trying to work through tricks all the time. He did say he would be changing things. Or maybe he should just get rid of Linda?

- He can also just work on his Dream impression. He ends stream, hoping to finish the gas station tomorrow

--- RANBOO AND SLIME ---

- Ranboo thinks to himself at the outpost. He and Tubbo just wanted to expand their area for a wheat farm, and now Quackity’s gone and gotten in the way as well as covered up the river

- He has no ill feelings towards Quackity, except possibly -- well, he learned that Tubbo was executed, found out that Quackity wanted to have Ranboo executed

- He’s not sure how to handle this. Should he say something to Techno? He wants to stay peaceful

- Ranboo spots the shadow of a nametag moving behind the wall. He pauses work on the farm

- He comes to the gate to find Slime behind the lava wall. When Ranboo lowers the wall, Slime starts running. Ranboo confronts Slime outside and questions what he was doing

- Slime asks who Ranboo is. Ranboo tells him simply, “Ranboo”

- Slime tells him that Tommyinnit From Nowhere has 33% of his “meat” and that he was put in jail

- Slime says he’s from the ground before correcting to “the womb.” Ranboo says it’s nice to meet him and asks if he’s human, noting that he’s “slimy”

- Slime tells him that he was with Quackity From Las Nevadas, but now he is with Tommy From Nowhere because Tommy can control him with “meat”

- Ranboo tells him he -- Ranboo -- is not human. Slime directs him to spin around and jump before referring to him as a “brother slime.” Because if Ranboo is not human, he must be slime

- Slime tells him the truth: he is actually goo. They enter the outpost and Ranboo gives him a cookie to eat. Slime hasn’t seen any other slimes up here. It took a long time and a lot of watching for Slime to look like this

- Ranboo doesn’t think, genetically, it’s possible for him to be Slime’s brothers. Slime tells him genetics are a lie, they must be brothers, and tells him “I forget too”

- Quackity has taught Slime how to be friends! Slime demonstrates by digging himself into a hole and telling Ranboo that he’s going to kill him, then Ranboo will work for him, and thus they are best friends

- Ranboo tells him that isn’t what friendship is, and that friendship is based on kindness. Slime hands Ranboo some bones to keep up his disguise

- People can’t find out what they really are. If they found out, who knows what would happen? Slime has seen what they’ve done...

- After learning that Ranboo has been speaking with the others, Slime asks what he has learned about friendship (he refers to Ranboo as “Ran-goo.”

- Ranboo explains it with acts of kindness, like cookies. Slime tries this by charging interest on the cookie

Slime: “How else is the house supposed to win?”

- Slime learns that people don’t get things back necessarily, but rather trust and friendship. A “bond” (he confuses it for the investment definition)

- Ranboo tries explaining it by talking about an emotional attachment to a pet -- if the pet died, one would feel sad. Slime asks how?

- Slime gives Ranboo some goo to patch himself up. Ranboo “does so,” and Slime says he is now a part of Ranboo

- Ranboo tells him that someone telling them they’ll kill you isn’t a good thing. Slime asks why not -- everyone will be dust eventually

- Ranboo continues to teach Slime about friendship. Slime wants to understand why people do what they do

- Ranboo tries to tell Slime that he’s not a slime, but Slime still doesn’t believe him. He’s part Enderman and part...he’s not slime and he’s also not human

- Ranboo gives Slime his parts back. Slime tells him about how Fundy From L’manburg ate a part of him and now Slime is part of Fundy forever. Slime hands Ranboo more slime and asks if he has a mouth. They can have “a bond”

- Ranboo tells him he’ll keep it on him, but not eat it

- Slime says he hasn’t seen Ranboo. Ranboo hasn’t seen him either, since he seems to be new

- Ranboo tells him he’s been here since after L’manburg got destroyed the second time (which Ranboo refers to as the first). Slime notes that that place got blown up a lot

- Ranboo shows him grass blocks. Slime tries to pick one up, but he can’t

- Ranboo notes that Slime is one of the only people that he can look right in the eyes

- Slime tries to give his cookies back to God. When it doesn’t work, he gives them to Ranboo

- He tells Slime to not hurt people, even if other people tell him to. Slime has to think for himself about what he wants to do

- Slime goes into the ground where he will commune with the gravel to think about what Ranboo has said

Slime: “When I come out, promise you won’t be dust!”

- Ranboo watches Slime, who remains in the hole. Slime begins whispering to himself about the nature of existence while Ranboo stands there listening

- Slime comes back up, saying he was just “processing.” Ranboo tells him he used to go to an obsidian room when he needed to process

- Ranboo tells him that if Slime ever needs advice, he’s free to ask him. Ranboo also tells him that friends aren’t supposed to be controlling of you. Slime won’t let people control him

- Slime leaves to return to prison, telling Ranboo he won’t let anyone keep him down again!

- Ranboo hopes he’ll learn about free will soon. Something tells Ranboo Slime should probably be protected

- When Ranboo met Slime, he saw himself in him. He used to be like Slime back in L’manburg, going along with people and things

- Ranboo just wants to be supportive of Tubbo. He thought the scars came from Tubbo just testing something. He doesn’t know how he feels about Techno doing it

- He hasn’t seen Techno in a while...

- Ranboo heads to the strip club to visit the place he made

- After thinking some more, Ranboo leaves some signs with a gift chest saying he’s sorry to Quackity that they got off on the wrong foot, and would like to talk some more

--- QUACKITY VS. RANBOO, AREA 51 ---

- Bad and Skeppy log on, Bad planning to possibly build Skeppy’s statue

- Quackity logs on in Las Nevadas and finds some food. He notices the gift box, reads the signs and finds the Yeezys and cookies. He’s not impressed

- He runs into Ranboo coming up from the tunnel and tells him to pay the toll. He gets Ranboo to come back to the toll booth and then blocks off the tunnel, saying Las Nevadas is closed for the day

- The two speak. Ranboo tells him he has no ill intentions. Quackity asks why his partner threatened to nuke Las Nevadas. Ranboo tells him the nukes were decommissioned, but Quackity still took it as a threat

- Quackity tells him the only way they’ll be on a good foot is if they relocate the outpost. Ranboo tries to explain, but Quackity hangs up and walks away

- Quackity explains his thinking, how he feels threatened by why a cookie outpost would need such a massive wall. Quackity has to protect his country

- Foolish logs on. Quackity intends to continue building up the wall until it encloses the entire area

- Quackity speaks with Foolish, who tells him about Tommy taking Slime prisoner because Foolish wouldn’t give the shovel Linda back

- Quackity starts running as Foolish continues to fill him in. Foolish shows him Linda in his hand. Quackity is outraged that Tommy would hurt Slime over a shovel

- He’s also mad that Foolish would let it happen. They get to the tollbooth and spot Ranboo running around again

- Quackity tells Ranboo that if Ranboo wants peace, they’ll have to compromise. Foolish was inspecting the outpost and found gunpowder. Quackity doesn’t like the area that they’ve used to build these farms that are heading towards Las Nevadas

- Meanwhile, Skeppy and Bad argue and Skeppy pricks himself to death on a cactus

- Quackity tries to explain his position to Ranboo again. He wants it on paper that they’ll have no issues, and he wants compromise

- They continue to argue. Las Nevadas has plans of expansion

- They keep arguing and eventually, Quackity tells Ranboo to talk it out with Tubbo and to stop expanding. They part ways and Quackity asks Foolish’s thoughts on this. They talk about the expansion

- The subject returns to Slime, and Foolish explains how Tommy came barging in asking for Linda. Quackity tells him to just give Linda back. He trusts that Tommy’s a good person and won’t cause more trouble if Foolish just returns it

- Foolish asks if another situation like the one with Tommy and Slime happens again, how should he handle it.

Quackity: “You know what we need, Foolish? ...We need laws. We need jurisdiction.”

- Purpled comes over as they start taking down the extra cobble wall they built earlier

- They finish and Quackity speaks with Purpled back in Las Nevadas. Quackity points out that the country is very exposed right now, and they need a backup plan: an underground city expansion

- Purpled tells him about the underground part of his base beneath the UFO he used to have and Quackity asks for him to show it to him. They go over there

- The underground area could be where all of the functional things are, away from the flashy tourist attractions

- They reach “Area 51,” the underground area. Quackity remembers how he and Tommy used to smuggle drugs through the sewers there

- Purpled shows him around through all the secret rooms. They figure out the combination lock

- Quackity also directs Foolish to place more sand, since that’s where people assume the borders stop

- Purpled fixes the entryway to Area 51. Quackity wants something similar done in Las Nevadas

- With regards to conflicts, Quackity trusts them to act on their own judgement. He leaves them with that and heads out

---

Upcoming Events:

- Final Egg lore stream [POSSIBLY SOME TIME NEXT WEEK]

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Dream’s lore video

- Ponk’s lore stream

- Possible Lore Suit court battle

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts #dsmp #this took so long oh my god #apologies for things I missed/messed up!#usually I'd have more time to go back and double-check details but...yeeeah

272 notes · View notes

ps-pandakochii · 2 years

Text

ᴍʏ ʟᴜʟʟᴀʙʏ

⛥ミ ┊ 2. ˎˊ˗ HOME

You felt betrayed.

It was almost as if your sister led a double life. Digging through files of all the money you sent to her for Giorno, you felt disgusted. Her bank receipts and paperwork all showed that she had clearly neglected him and instead, chose to lead a life of luxury for herself. Tears welled up in your [eye color] eyes. All those times she promised you and father were a lie, you realized. Sure, you knew she was getting caught up in a not so great crowd, but she vowed with tears in her eyes to become the best mother for her unborn child. . . How could she? Unbeknownst to yourself at the time, this was only the beginning of the horrors you were starting to uncover. Chatting with her previous place of work back in Japan and with her ex-neighbors, you pieced together a rather unsavory story. This tale was then reinforced and added on to, by the current neighbors in Italy. Betrayed was an understatement. You were furious. Livid even. Your little GioGio did not deserve such brutalities at the start of his life.

You know you can’t go back to change the past, but you sure as hell wish you could. Even so, you know that it’s best to focus on the present for the future. “Focus on GioGio [Name],” you muttered, pacing back and forth in the bathroom of your hotel suite. Sighing lightly, you rubbed your face gently with your hands. “GioGio is safe now, he’s sleeping on the bed in the same suite as you and,” a knock interrupted your monologue. Gently opening the door ajar, you found yourself in front of GioGio. Blond hair tousled and a mess, but oh so cute. Rubbing his sky hued eyes, he sleepily peers up at you. “Auntie, are you done? I wanna sleep with you,” he states arms lifted in the air. He knows the routine; gently you pick him up before shutting off the bathroom lights. “Of course GioGio,” you began. “I always want to spend time with you,” you smile before kissing the tip of his nose. That night was filled with more laughter than sleep.

The next morning was a lethargic one. Breakfast was served in a restaurant situated outside the hotel. Drinking your morning beverage, you urged Giorno to eat his fruit and drink his milk. All was good. The storm of your older sister’s whirlwind marriage appeared to have died down. Now it was your turn to ask a few things to your nephew. “Giorno,” you started seriously. At the sound of his name, Giorno looked up. “Do you like it here in Naples? Or would you like to return to Japan?” At the inquires, Giorno went silent. His breakfast untouched, as he thought about your question. “I-is it okay, if we stayed here?” A smile etched its way across your face. Like a garden in full bloom, delight was abundance. “Of course, anything for you my dear. Now make sure to eat a lot so you grow up strong and healthy and happy.” At that Giorno just giggled, but did manage to eat two whole plates of breakfast that day.

— — — — —

House hunting was a chore. It’s been so long, that you forgot how tiring it could be. Sure you have quite a few properties under your belt, but you bought them a while back. That, or you’re just not as youthful as you once were. Twenty-four years of age is kind of old for an idol. . . Oh, what the heck! You’re practically a vetran now in the idol industry which comes with all sorts of perks; better a vetran than an idol just wet behind the ears. At that thought, you decided to return to the hotel. Walking along cobble stoned streets felt like a dream. It was another beautiful day in Naples, Italy. Warm and serene. Giorno in your arms, you began humming a tune from your earlier days. Slowly and steadily Giorno began to drift off to the land of dreams. All was good in your life and finally in Giorno’s life. Hugging Giorno just a tad more securely with the same amount of love, you blissfully sigh out. You know for a fact that you can get used to this.

With the changing of the seasons, months have come and gone. You and Giorno have decided on a lovely villa with an oceanic view. The monochrome walls of the house have now become decorated with photographs of the times you spent together and the pictures Giorno drew of the both of you. Rooms that were once bare, were filled with furniture: cozy, simple, humble, with lofty price tags. You can’t help that everything you and Giorno end up liking is expensive; what you can help with is making the villa feel like home. You and Giorno both know that home is where the heart is. People make up a home, not the decor. You made sure that first and foremost, your house was obviously lived in. Sometimes paperwork was left strung across tables, and pillows and blankets and chairs were still rearranged like a fort, and various paintings were drawn onto the blank walls. The smell of homemade meals, and the sound of laughter and gentle footfalls constantly echoed throughout your home. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Turning five years of age was a milestone for Giorno and you. Like the season of spring, you knew Giorno was going to keep growing up. You were proud but also sad. Proud of how wonderful, smart, and kind your beloved nephew was. Sad because your beloved nephew was growing up too fast! You wish he could stay a baby forever, but alas, that’s impossible. Well, GioGio was always going to be your baby, you knew that in your heart. You also told him that too. His cherub face reddened to a rosy hue, he was shyly sweet about it all. His reply was a kiss to your temple. At around three in the afternoon, you celebrated Giorno’s birthday with a homemade birthday cake. Five star shaped candles lined the colorful confection. On that very day, Giorno’s grandpa—your father—was present. Piled high in his arms, were boxes and bags and letters and parcels of gifts for Giorno. Laughing he smiled, “I think it would be a great idea to do one of those selfies the kids do nowadays!”

— — — — —

Sometime nearing your birthday, a small brown letter arrived. With blue and red stripes on the sides tied neatly with white string. It was quaint and cute. On the front was your current address of residence written in neat print. Upon opening it, you found a cream colored paper. In black ink, written in cursive and in the English language was a letter addressed to you. Sitting down on the steps of your villa you began reading it. As you began nearing the end, your heart began beating a mile per minute. Your mouth dry, hands shaky, and tears began cascading downward. When the letter concluded, all you could do was sit and stare at the ocean before you. The letter was no longer quaint and cute in your eyes. In your nearly twenty-five years of life, this was one of the most upsetting things that could ever happen. In fact you nearly forgot all about it, thinking this was just a cruel prank. Cruel or not, you couldn’t part with Giorno. The very idea makes you sick with distress. He is your everything.

Giorno is your world.

THE VISITOR -`, 3. ┊❁ཻུ۪۪

My Lullaby

11 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

Nova Ch 11

AN: This is gonna be the last of the set-up chapters. The story will start snowballing (see what I did there? Heehee) from the next chapter on.

This chapter includes an art piece I requested from the talented @plutonis, and I’m so glad I can finally show this off because it contains some very gorgeous colors.

AO3 Link

Ch 11: Spectrum

Terran Date 2015.4.28

Yesterday, Pinky showed me one of his favorite pieces of media to thank me for the story of Heikro var Silda, even though he cried for fifteen minutes because of the tragic ending. While indeed sad, I’m proud to say I remained steadfast and controlled my emotions upon revisiting the story. And while I told him it wasn’t necessary, he insisted and I acquiesced to his demands.

That’s how Pinky introduced me to The Lion King. Once again, I remained strong even when the emotional distress threatened to override my logical mind. It was...rather difficult, I’ll admit. We watched the sequel afterward, and though I’ve created five different charts that list the plot points in order, I cannot come up with a satisfactory sequence of events that connects both movies into a cohesive narrative.

Moving onto real life matters...Pinky seems to be under the impression that I will be a permanent resident of the lab.

Celestial bodies above, what use is my intelligence if I’m trapped among heathen, dimwitted fools who can’t tell the difference between left and right! I refuse to be a lab rat, made to do the so-called dominant species’ bidding. Snowball and I shall be taking over this planet and progressing their backwards society far beyond their wildest dreams! That’s what we came here for, and I will not be sidetracked again.

As for Pinky...well, his imagination can make up some personalities for his inanimate object friends once I leave. He doesn’t have any shortage of those. The newest addition to the crew is an eraser nub with the moniker of ‘Gummy’.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

Brain saved the new transmission to an encrypted, password-protected file. None of the scientists were technical experts, so the odds of discovery were miniscule or nonexistent. He only had five audio files in total, a meager amount compared to the hundreds of transmissions he’d made back on New Selene. The pointer hovered over the Delete All button. He didn’t have a reason to keep making transmissions when he was leaving the lab behind in just a few days.

Still, he hesitated.

Maybe he could leave it as a memento for Pinky. But even a basic level of encryption and case-sensitive password would remain far beyond Pinky’s capabilities.

Perhaps it was best to leave the issue for another night.

He logged off the computer and joined Pinky, who’d surrounded himself with Gummy and the rest of his inanimate object friends as he played a board game called Monopoly. Though Brain had looked up the rules and goals of the game during his online session out of curiosity, he didn’t really understand the appeal or mass marketability of such an unbalanced game.

Although, given the number of different versions of Monopoly out there, creating and selling his own version of the game with the title of Brainopoly could prove to be a viable plan.

Pinky was playing as if there were four players and not just a free-for-all against a nickel, button, and eraser. It became disturbingly obvious that Pinky was either overly generous or just woefully terrible at mental math, because he continually doled out the wrong amount of money from the bank or his own meager cash pile.

And Pinky was far better off if Brain cut in now, because there was no chance that anyone else was catching up to Gummy, who owned the most lucrative properties and had the largest amount of money.

He had to stop anthropomorphizing these objects. He was starting to think like Pinky, and that was an extremely distressing thought.

“You’re losing to an eraser,” Brain said. Pinky only had a few fives in currency, and the three properties he owned were all flipped over and mortgaged.

“Yeah, Gummy’s just very good at this game! Narf!” Pinky said as he rolled the dice for Mr. Button. “It’s so nice of him to let us sleep in his Marvin Garden Apartments though. Otherwise we’d be homeless!”

“Nice indeed,” Brain replied. For his peace of mind, he didn’t dare press for more details.

Pinky threw the dice, then moved the bucket token seven spaces, landing on the Luxury Tax space. “That’ll be seventy-five dollars, Mr. Button,” Pinky said as he gathered the money, which only totaled sixty. And Mr. Button’s four properties were all mortgaged. Pinky realized this too. “Oh...you don’t have enough. Poit.”

Any normal player would’ve tossed in the towel right there, but Pinky wasn’t a conventional player by any means. He frowned, scratched his head, then picked up his own pile of fives and tossed them onto the sixty, bringing the amount to seventy-five, with two leftover fives for Mr. Button.

“You can have that, Mr. Button!” Pinky chirped as he dumped the luxury tax money in the middle of the board. “With a little more for the bus!”

Pinky had completely knocked himself out of the game.

This was supposed to be an extremely competitive game for families and seasoned professionals, right? Though the rules of Monopoly appeared confusing and controversial to most players, he was certain that nobody would willingly lose with such a reckless method.

Well...maybe it was just a fluke. Pinky was only playing against himself, so if he wanted to give up the money to something he was making the decisions for, that was his choice.

Besides, he couldn’t watch this game much longer.

“I’ll be your next opponent,” Brain announced. He’d never played before, but the basics seemed simple enough. And the math involved was basic arithmetic he could do in his sleep. “Reset the board at once, Pinky.”

Pinky’s tail wagged as he gathered up the houses and hotels and tossed them back into the box, then settled down as he skillfully shuffled the Community Chest and Chance cards. From the way he hummed and twirled around, an outsider could easily mistake Brain for a playmate instead of an opponent.

Brain quickly read over the instruction sheet, then divided the game currency into a starting amount for himself, Pinky, and the bank.

“Can I be in charge of the property cards, Brain?” Pinky asked as he organized them by color.

“Yes, but I shall handle all other banker duties,” Brain said. “Listen closely, Pinky. I’ve looked up stories about Monopoly games going on for a long time with no definitive winner, so we’ll stop the game when one of us runs out of money, or if chance has favored you or I enough that we can place a hotel on the board.”

“Chance always has a problem with favoritism,” Pinky said as he moved the horse token to the Go space. Indeed, chance hasn’t always favored members of either of their species, but it could stand to be more merciful during a board game. He hugged the horse token to his chest. “Anyways, Pharfigtwoton is always my choice! What’s yours?”

Brain didn’t understand how anyone in their right mind would want to play as a wheelbarrow or bucket, and the only pieces that interested him at all were the ones that resembled modes of Terran transportation. In the end, he chose the battleship.

He was tempted to call it the Conquistador Two, but he didn’t want to follow the trend of naming random objects.

“Good one!” Pinky said as he pushed the ship over to the horse token. “A gorgeous ship like this needs a name...so I hereby dub thee Battley McBattleface!”

“We’re calling it the Conquistador Two, and that’s final,” Brain snapped.

“The Conquesodor Two,” Pinky agreed.

They tossed the dice to decide turn order, and Pinky won that battle easily since Brain had the misfortune to roll double ones.

On his first turn, Pinky managed to land on St. Charles Place with a high roll. He happily shelled out the money required to buy the property. “I’m putting a nice dog park here!” he declared, placing the unused dog token in the magenta space above the property. “Now Pharfigtwoton can give rides to all the puppies!”

Brain didn’t know if Monopoly required players to create their own storyline, but it certainly made the game more interesting and baffling at the same time. He rolled the dice, sighing when he could only advance to Reading Railroad.

He hoped it wouldn’t be a trend for Pinky to receive high rolls while he was stuck in the first half of the board.

But he quickly changed his mind once he paid up for Reading Railroad and read through the card information. Just like any real life war or corporate strategy, the key to his victory would lie in controlling the flow of transportation and goods!

Pinky landed on New York on his next turn, rambling about taking all the puppies to New York for a double decker bus tour of the city as he slid a stack of bills to Brain. Brain sighed and tossed an extra twenty bill back at Pinky. He wished Pinky would pay more attention to adding properly than the make-believe puppies.

Brain rolled the dice and moved his battleship to Virginia, claiming the property so Pinky couldn’t control one-fourth of the board this early in the game.

“Brain, can I have a house?” Pinky asked as he drew a Community Chest card. He read through the card and grinned. “Awww, I got second in a beauty pageant! Thank you, everyone! It’s such an honor! Oh, and it says I also won ten dollars.”

“You don’t meet the conditions required for a house, Pinky,” Brain said, giving Pinky a ten. He didn’t care about the fake beauty pageant, just that money was either gained or lost depending on luck of the draw.

“Oh, I’ll keep them off the board,” Pinky promised. “I just want a house for Terry to live in.”

He held up the dog token, who was now apparently called Terry.

“Fine, but don’t mix your ridiculous fantasies with the board,” Brain sighed and tossed a green house at Pinky, which smacked him in the head when he didn’t catch it in time. Pinky laughed it off and coaxed Terry to stand next to the house.

Houses and hotels. His Internet searches on the Clarkes led to tons of websites on the Terran real estate market and hotel industry.

Which reminded Brain that he hadn’t shared his research into the Clarkes with Pinky yet. There hadn’t been enough time during the day, where the incompetent scientists poked and prodded them. And in Brain’s case, tried to figure out where the antennae came from.

Their hypotheses, and he was being exceedingly generous when he described their speculation and conspiracy theories as hypotheses, amounted to claiming a Terran mouse and insect had reproduced together.

“I’ve brushed up on the Clarkes so we can properly impersonate them at the party. According to-scrik!” Brain hissed under his breath when he landed on New York and had to pay Pinky.

“Sixteen please!” Pinky chirped. “All proceeds will go to buying toys and treats for good dogs in need!”

Brain grudgingly gave up the sixteen. Probability was not on his side tonight. “As I was saying before cruel fate reared its ugly head, the man I shall impersonate, Anthony Clarke, is an esteemed real estate and luxury hotel mogul, with a net worth in the billions. His success is rooted in savvy, ruthless business against competitors. It appears that he and Lamont are old college acquaintances, which we can spin to our advantage. And...yes! B&O Railroad!”

He claimed the B&O Railroad for himself, and Pinky wrinkled his nose. “I wouldn’t ride on the Body Odor Railroad even if you pay me in cheese,” he said.

Brain rolled his eyes. “The temptation for cheese is too powerful for your empty mind and bottomless stomach.”

“You’re right, Brain. It’s too yummy.” Pinky licked his lips. “So does that make me Mrs. Zoey Clarke then? Unless he divorced her already. I haven’t kept up with them in a while.” The butler on the phone had made a similar comment, thoroughly expecting ‘Mr. Clarke’ to divorce his spouse by the end of the week.

“So you’re aware of the Clarkes,” Brain said. He rolled the dice, and chance immediately sentenced him to jail. He had to push his battleship all the way to the jail space.

But all of this divorcing nonsense was trivial to his goals. Hardly worth a footnote.

The objective was to infiltrate the party, mingle with the guests to throw off suspicion, then steal the military weapon and take over the world, not involve himself in a Terran’s relationship drama.

“Ooh, tough.” Pinky clicked his tongue in sympathy as he bought Waterworks. “But everyone knows who the Clarkes are. Didn’t you see anything about all those divorces when you looked them up?”

“I’m more interested in his business ventures than his messy personal life,” Brain replied. “All this talk about divorce is simply incidental. But now I digress. Escaping jail so I may continue my conquering campaign is of utmost priority.”

“Doubles! Doubles!” Pinky chanted as Brain threw the dice. A two and three faced up, but no doubles. Pinky deflated, but only for a moment. Then he picked up a fifty. “Here, Brain. I’ll bail you out.”

From Brain’s brief skim over the rules, he didn’t recall a single one that allowed players to bail each other out of jail. He wanted to refuse and tell Pinky to focus on winning for himself, but obtaining Pennsylvania Railroad, which he’d missed the first time he’d passed through this section of the board, was just too tempting.

Brain took the fifty from Pinky, put it in the bank, then moved his battleship out of jail and used his draining resources to buy Pennsylvania Railroad. Only afterward did he realize that he’d been steadily losing money every turn and hadn’t gained anything since the beginning of the game.

Contrast to Pinky, who rolled a twelve and skipped over the last fourth of the board, placing him squarely on the Go space and guaranteeing himself a free two hundred. Then he rolled a low number and bought Mediterranean.

A poor investment, given that it was hardly worth anything. But Pinky didn’t think so.

And he wouldn’t stop cooking up new fantasies either. “Now we can host a beach jubilee for your welcome home from jail party! With hot dogs and beach balls and those big umbrellas and-”

Brain lobbed the dice at Pinky so he’d quiet down and allow Brain to formulate a strategy in peace.

Perhaps a pass around the board without purchasing anything would be necessary. He had to rebuild his financial resources again. The downside was that Pinky could potentially take the spaces for himself, but it was entirely possible that he’d miss some of the open spaces too.

So he did just that, finally lucking out when a Community Chest card sent Pinky to Reading Railroad.

But Pinky was incapable of keeping his mouth shut, and soon he was back on the topic of the infamous Clarke divorces.

“-so I think Zoey is number eleven, and I know they all blend together, so when I confuse them I just remember divorce, beheaded, died, divorce, beheaded, survived!”

Brain stared at Pinky, praying to all the ancient Selenian gods nobody believed in anymore that Snowball didn’t have him take the identity of a murderer.

“Oh wait no, no...that’s King Henry, not Clarke. Must’ve mixed them up, poit. Sorry.”

Brain threw another green house at Pinky, nailing him in the shoulder. Pinky yelped, but once he realized he had another house he immediately thanked Brain because that meant Terry’s friend could move next door.

Since there was little point to dissuading Pinky entirely, Brain focused on his game strategy instead.

It was mostly repetition anyway. Roll dice, move piece, board event, repeat. Perhaps it would be considered tedious and monotonous, but the storylines Pinky improvised were what truly made it fascinating, even though Brain could only follow about half of it since Pinky created plotholes within the fantastical yet mundane place named Monopoly City faster than the speed of light.

According to Pinky, he and his sister co-ran an enormous pet supply shop attached to a humane animal shelter next door to the dog park. Meanwhile, Brain was conductor of a magical train and seeking the mayorship because the corrupt mayor was involved with an evil cigarette corporation who wanted to diabolically sell their products to innocent children.

And while Pinky certainly had a knack for improvisation, the matter at hand was that Brain couldn’t resist buying Boardwalk, but he’d used up a third of his money and Pinky wasn’t landing there to make up for the deficit. But Brain also had Baltic, the least valuable property, and Pinky had Park Place, which Brain desperately needed since neither of them had houses on the board yet.

This wasn’t going to be a fair trade for Pinky, but it was the best chance Brain had to etch out a victory. He was going for it.

“Park for Baltic so we can finally build some residences,” Brain said, sliding the card over to Pinky.

And to his surprise, Pinky jumped at the opportunity. “Sure, Brain! If you’ll trade me Oriental for Marvin Gardens. We’re gonna open a Chinatown district!”

He’d be giving Pinky control of the first quarter of the board, but the allure of the most expensive properties was far too tempting to pass up.

They swapped properties, then paused the game to set up their houses. Brain didn’t have enough money to buy houses for all his properties, so he set two houses on Boardwalk and hoped he could deal a staggering blow to Pinky’s finances. And even this decision was costly, for he only had $180 left.

Pinky set four houses on Baltic and clapped his hands together. “They’re beach houses,” he explained, and didn’t bother putting houses on the rest of his properties even though he could afford it.

Brain kept his mouth shut. Best not to give Pinky ideas. So he rolled the dice and got doubles.

Luxury Tax.

Scrik.

Now he was down to $105. But he’d pass Go on his next turn, so he could obtain an extra two hundred and hopefully skip this portion of the board.

Then he landed on Baltic.

He slowly looked at Pinky, and Brain couldn’t tell if Pinky was being perfectly innocent or just very, very good at pretending to be perfectly innocent. “That’ll be $320 please,” Pinky said.

Including the two hundred from passing Go, he’d only have a grand total of $305.

And according to the conditions he’d set, he’d lost the game through losing all his money.

“Can’t pay it,” Brain sighed. “Congratulations, Pinky. You’ve bested me.”

Pinky giggled and threw his play money in the air in celebration. “Aw, thanks for playing with me! I’ve never played Monopoly with anyone before. Never been able to get the board to Pharfignewton’s stable without the play money flying all over the street. It took me a long time to pick it all up. We should definitely do this again, Brain! Troz!”

But there wouldn’t be a next time. No matter how much he wanted to be victorious in another match against Pinky.

“Yes, we should,” Brain forced out, willing his racing heart to calm down so he wasn’t caught in his lie.

Pinky beamed, and Brain only wished it wasn’t so difficult to explain.

o-o-o-o-o

Terran Date 4.29.2015

Tonight, we shall seek appropriate outfits for the masquerade ball. I have been informed that my jumpsuit is not considered formal attire and that we will need to shop for proper clothing. However, I will be bringing my jumpsuit along since I will not return to the lab, and I require my conquering outfit to carry out our plans.

Pinky knows a place that may contain what we need. He’s spent the last two hours finishing his hat for the Kentucky Derby and has proudly shown off the finished product to me. Though I’ll admit that the result can only be considered a hat if one is generous with their definition.

I have not been able to contact Snowball. I can only assume he’s making the necessary preparations on his end.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

They stood in front of an enormous building with bright neon letters, impossible to miss even with his direction-challenged companion. Thankfully, it was only a few blocks from the lab. After the scientists strapped him to a machine that tested centrifugal force, he didn’t have the energy to walk much further.

“Welcome to Toyz ‘B’ We, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed, and Brain cringed at the horrendous grammar of that name. “It's the most wonderfulest toy shop ever!”

Wonderfulest wasn’t a word, but Brain was given no time to inform Pinky of that fact before Pinky dragged him to the entrance, where a large, cartoonish statue of a Terran bee stood off to the side, greeting customers with a cheerful wave of her magic wand.

“So that’s the mascot, Becky Bee,...let’s see, those are the shopping carts and the baskets and those machines that give you washable tattoos-”

“Focus on the clothing, Pinky. Not all the extraneous material,” Brain reminded him as they entered the store. Unlike their disastrous mall trip, Brain had brought along a source of money, an ACME credit card one of the scientists had carelessly left at their desk after purchasing a chair online.

They had a right to use the card as ACME employees who never got paid for their hard labor in experiments. And he promised Pinky he’d give it back once they were through purchasing the necessary items, so it didn’t catch on that pesky ‘no stealing’ radar.

Based on Pinky’s descriptions of the store, he expected an interior full of wonder, excitement, and interesting objects designed for enjoyment for young Terrans.

Instead, everything was a sterile white, yellow, or black. Rectangular kits of building blocks of all shapes and sizes sat neatly in a row, their price tags dusty as if they hadn’t been moved or cleaned in some time.

Dozens of bee models hung from the ceiling rafters, all of them sharing the exact same dead stare and pose. The whole setup was rather unnerving, and Brain averted his eyes.

He spotted two workers at the registers. They scrolled through their phones, not noticing Pinky’s cheerful greeting as he skipped past them. A third worker called out in alarm to them, and they suddenly dropped their phones and picked up rags, repetitively wiping their counters in circles in a poor attempt to appear busy.

The only one who acted like they were in a store meant for entertainment was Pinky, who oohed and ahhed and zigzagged all over the place to get a look at all the toys.

“Brain, look at this Barbie convertible! It’s so sparkly!” Pinky exclaimed before darting off to admire the box art on five-hundred piece jigsaw puzzles, then crawled onto the lowest shelf to hug a life-sized chihuahua plushie. “Narf! This one’s a cutie! And I also like the polka-dotted lizard, that green unicorn, and that rainbow koala looks really soft too-”

Brain grabbed Pinky’s tail, yanking him out of the shelf and onto the floor.

“This store’s already eroding whatever’s left of your mind,” Brain said, dragging Pinky away from the stuffed animals.

Pinky propped himself up on his elbows, humming as they passed aisle upon aisle of action figures, balls, and building blocks.

It was strange how they seemed to be the only customers here. Shouldn’t there be more snot-nosed brats running amok or haggard parents corralling them so they didn’t destroy everything with their grubby hands?

Still, perhaps he shouldn’t complain.

It was a relief that he didn’t have to worry about people trampling him underfoot for now.

But the peace didn’t last long, since Pinky suddenly peeled away in a completely different direction, forgetting that Brain was hanging onto his tail. Though he tried to dig his heels in, Pinky was too fast and the floor too slippery for Brain to bring them to a halt.

Then Pinky stopped on his own, and Brain only caught a glimpse of a metallic table leg before he crashed face-first into it, his nose smarting from the impact.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky said sheepishly, and there were five upside-down images of him. Brain swatted at the one in the middle, but his hand hit empty air instead. He shook his head to clear his vision, and all but the Pinky on the far left vanished.

Pinky didn’t stay put for long, darting past Brain. He hauled himself up the table leg and onto a light blue tablecloth. “You have to come up and see this, Brain!” Pinky squealed, peering over the edge of the table, his tail wagging beside him. “There’s an entire fence made of Legos here!”

Brain sighed, wondering if it was an exercise in futility to get Pinky to focus on the task at hand. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself!” Brain shouted as he climbed up to retrieve Pinky. “We’re here for the clothes and-”

Though Brain only took fifteen seconds to ascend, Pinky managed to don a cropped, checkered top that showed off his slender stomach and a very short blue skirt in that short timeframe.

“Well, what do you think?” Pinky giggled and twirled in circles, the skirt flying in a graceful arc around his waist. “I could go square dancin’ in this, pardner! Yee-narf!”

Realizing he’d been staring at Pinky’s exposed stomach rather than making proper eye contact, Brain quickly turned away and pretended to find a row of small toy cars interesting. Next to the toy cars, there was a menagerie of small, plastic animals penned in by a colorful fence.

Part of a garden themed jigsaw puzzle served as a lawn under his feet, the pieces leading up to an enormous pink dollhouse.

Pinky took off the clothes he’d tried on, neatly threading a bent wire through the crop top and skirt and hanging them on a piece of string that served as a makeshift clothesline. There were five different clotheslines, each stocked to the brim with a variety of colorful articles.

Brain thumbed through the selection, though he didn’t feel an attachment to any of these pieces. While these clothes were designed for toys, most of them were still too big for him.

Finding something that would fit would be more difficult than he realized.

There was a large empty space past all the clotheslines, but it seemed it would be filled in soon enough. The display had all the signs of being a work in progress, and Brain couldn’t help but wonder who had the patience to put all this together. Certainly not the bored workers at the registers.

It was a welcome splash of creativity from the rest of the dull store.

“Poit. This is exactly how I imagined my dream home to be,” Pinky said in awe. He walked up to the front door and popped it open, revealing a spacious interior. Brain followed Pinky inside and they explored the first floor together, which contained a kitchen, living room, and a playroom.

“I really like the coloring on those kitchen cabinets, and the fireplace is a great touch! Very retro. And the kiddies will have a grand ol’ time in the playroom,” Pinky said as they climbed the staircase to the second floor and walked through two bedrooms and a bathroom.

“Marble countertops would make the kitchen and bathroom more refined,” Brain argued. Really, did Pinky want any visitors to think uncivilized brutes owned the house? “But the fireplace is a welcome touch.”

Pinky shrugged as they entered the master bedroom. “It’s fine as is. Now if the backyard was bigger with a dolphin-shaped swimming pool, that would be really, really amazing!”

And Brain preferred marble countertops, but since he wouldn’t be getting everything he wanted, neither would Pinky.

Brain sat on the large bed that took up half the room, the fluffy covers soft and welcoming. But they were on a mission, and future world rulers didn’t roll around on beds in an undignified manner, no matter how tempting it was.

Pinky threw open the closet doors, revealing more clothing inside. “Oh, these pajamas are lovely!” he said, pressing a yellow nightgown close to his body.

“Anything that would suit our purposes?” Brain asked. In hindsight, doing some research into what people wore for masquerade balls would’ve been helpful. He didn’t know why it slipped his mind. Perhaps Pinky’s scatterbrained traits were contagious.

“Hmmm, it’s all pajamas and casual wear,” Pinky said, flicking through the different articles. He closed the doors and reopened them, as if the formal wear would magically appear if they were out of sight. “No suits for you or the porpoises, Brain.” And he’d been so hopeful too.

“Maybe we can find something in the aisles,” Pinky said.

A sensible suggestion, for once.

Brain tried not to appear reluctant to leave the bed, but necessity demanded it. As he stood up, the fur on his neck pricked, his ears twitching towards the large window in the bedroom.

An odd sense that he was being watched came over him, and when he turned to look at the window, he saw a Terran’s eye peering into the balcony.

They stared at each other.

Then the eye blinked.

And Brain was suddenly very, very glad Snowball wasn’t here to bear witness, or he’d never hear the end of how he’d leapt onto Pinky’s back in his moment of panic.

Pinky yelped, and so did the Terran outside the window. There were several loud thuds, followed by a frantic apology.

Brain released Pinky, rubbing his face to get rid of the blush as he ran down the staircase and out the front door.

“S-sorry!” a young woman stammered as she bent down to pick up several packages of toys, only to lose her large glasses on the floor in the process. She wore the standard uniform of the store. “I didn’t think anyone would be inside! I thought one of the furniture pieces fell over, that’s all!”

Pinky hopped down from the table, picking up the woman’s glasses and pressing them into her hand. “It’s okay!” he chirped. “You scared us good, but now we can laugh about it! Oh, your name tag says Sharon! What a lovely name! I’m Pinky, that chubby alien up there is Brain, and we’re going to a party this weekend where we’ll raise awareness for the plight of frosted animal crackers!”

“That’s not the event’s objective,” Brain corrected, and he had no choice but to let Pinky come to his own conclusions. Stealing the secret weapon on Lamont property would remain classified information as promised. “And if you call me chubby again, I shall have to hurt you.”

Sharon took her glasses from Pinky with a tentative smile, then let him climb up her arm and onto her shoulder. “Zort! You have very good taste in Polly Pocket dolls!” Pinky said, peering down at the packages in her hands. “Do you collect?”

Sharon blushed. “I, um, have a lot of Beanie Babies at home. I’m not really interested in Polly Pockets, but they’d fit much better in this display than a standard Barbie.” She glanced at Brain. “I’m sorry, could you please move? I’m putting a few things in that area.”

Brain moved out of the way as Sharon carefully opened the packages. Then she placed several small tables and chairs in the empty space next to the clotheslines, bending the dolls’ legs into sitting positions and placing them on the chairs. She worked slowly and diligently, taking great caution to not knock anything over or break the items.

“Did you make all this?” Pinky asked. “It’s amazing!”

“Y-yeah, I did. The display, I mean. Not the toys.” Sharon didn’t look at Pinky as she straightened one of the Lego fences. “Store’s been on the decline, and because there’s not really much to do, I’m trying to create a few displays to generate some interest. The toys in this one were supposed to be thrown away since nobody’s buying them, even on clearance, but it just seemed so wasteful.”

She was resourceful. It was a valuable trait, but she seemed more embarrassed than anything.

“Take pride, Sharon. It’s an excellent use of parts,” Brain advised.

Pinky nodded eagerly. “And you’re saving the toys from the evil furnace! I’m sure they’re very grateful to you when you’re not looking!”

“You...you really like it?” Sharon lifted her glasses and wiped a tear from her eye. “Nobody’s ever really noticed my efforts around here.”

“Well, they should!” Pinky declared. “I’ll tell them so myself!”

Sharon smiled as Pinky hugged her face, then rejoined Brain on the table. “Thanks, but I don’t think you came to this store just to invade a toy home.”

“No, we didn’t,” Brain said, seeing his opportunity and seizing it. “We require formal clothes for a masquerade ball, and unfortunately, we haven’t seen anything of interest yet.”

“There’s plenty of interesting things in here, Brain,” Pinky said. “Like the busybody bees up on the ceiling!”

Apparently they had two very different definitions of interesting.

“Well, I can bring out some items from the back,” Sharon offered. “We had to pull the entire line of formal Zuma Ben accessories last week. Some parents found the outfits a little scandalous for their kids, so now the accessories are just going in the trash. But maybe you’ll find something to wear from the pile. Be right back, guys!” She walked away, her steps growing slightly more confident.

“Real Zuma Ben accessories?” Pinky clasped his hands to his cheek. “I’ve never worn anything like that before!”

“It’s just a name,” Brain said. He didn’t see why Pinky was treating Zuma Ben’s name like a sacred object. “As long as we’re dressed to impress, the name doesn’t matter.”

“I just think they’re pretty,” Pinky replied. “And I like looking at them, even if I can’t buy anything. Still, I’m really happy with the clothes I have now.”

But Pinky had a sizable wardrobe. Those clothes had to come from somewhere.

“So how did you obtain your clothes if you never bought them?” Brain asked.

Pinky smiled. “The scientists. They’ll drop clothes into my cage, which is really nice of them! One time, I put on this pretty sundress they gave me and I started itching really bad. I was jumping around like a tiny monkey and I managed to make them all laugh! I must’ve been quite the sight!”

Pinky laughed at the memory, but Brain was more disturbed at how the blatant act of humiliation didn’t affect him in the slightest. Then the laugh faltered and restarted at a higher pitch.

No, that initial assessment was wrong. True, Pinky could withstand many things, but not even the most resilient being could tolerate the sound of mockery for long.

Should he say something? Was an ‘I’m sorry’ sufficient? Was there any act of comfort that didn’t involve unnecessary physical contact?

Brain wanted to be decisive, but dozens of scenarios played out in his head, and none of them led to a satisfactory outcome. Tell Pinky to cease his laughter, embrace him, talk about the weather. He didn’t know.

Emotions led to nothing but trouble.

“Quit staring,” Brain snapped when Pinky wouldn’t stop watching him like he wanted something.

Pinky’s ears fell, but Sharon came back before the pang of guilt could fully settle in Brain’s stomach.

“Thanks for waiting, guys,” Sharon said as she dumped the accessory packages onto the table. “See anything you like?”

“All of them!” Pinky declared, happily tossing a three-pack of formal dresses into the air. He tried tearing it open, but the packaging wouldn’t give. Sharon helpfully tore it open for him, and Pinky made a happy, grateful sound before pulling a sparkly purple dress over his body. He twirled around. “So how do I look?”

“Lovely,” Sharon giggled as she pulled out her phone. She set it against the Lego fence, allowing Pinky to see himself in the camera app.

“I’ll put this as a maybe,” Pinky said. “But I have to give all the dresses a chance too!”

He tried four other dresses on in quick succession, and all of them went into the maybe pile.

Meanwhile, Brain searched through his choices of men’s formal wear. He wanted the best possible option for successful infiltration, but he didn’t know much about Terran fashion. His nose wrinkled at a powdered blue suit with far too many ruffles. He was fairly certain that wouldn’t garner respect on any planet, so he pushed the offending pack away from his other options.

The pure white suit would get stained too easily. He needed something darker. That one was out.

“Hey Brain, what about this one?” Pinky asked. He now wore a long sleeved lime green dress, which Brain found extremely tacky and unappealing to the eyes. Not even Pinky could salvage that monstrosity. Yet in Pinky’s hands, there was a black suit with a white shirt underneath. Not extravagant by any means, but since the coloration was similar to his conquering attire, it was the most probable choice by far.

But while Pinky was comfortable with changing in front of others, Brain wasn’t so keen on the idea.

“I require privacy,” Brain said. He took the suit from Pinky and went inside the house, shutting the door behind him and ensuring the shutters were closed.

Then he removed his gloves and jumpsuit, shivering from the cold air as he laid the items over a chair. He put on the new set of pants first, then the white collared shirt, and finally buttoned the jacket over his abdomen.

Well, it was comfortable. And it hid most of his stomach too, which was also a positive. But he needed to see how it looked in the light before making a judgment call, so he rejoined Pinky and Sharon, who were playing with different filters on her phone while Pinky wore a magnificent feathery pink dress.

“Now you really look like a flamingo,” Sharon laughed as Pinky changed the filter to sepia, the image now different shades of tan. Pinky blew a kiss to the camera. “This one’s my favorite so far,” Pinky declared with a graceful curtsey.

And the sleeveless feathery dress did seem to match his personality much better than all the other dresses. Flamboyant and quirky, but inviting and friendly as well. A darker pink feather boa was draped over his shoulders, and purple feathers fanned out from the back of his neck. A light green choker was wrapped around his neck. Then Pinky added a matching headband with a light pink tuft to complete the ensemble.

“That will certainly make an excellent first impression on the partygoers,” Brain said.

Pinky changed the phone filter back to normal with one hand, playing with the feather boa in his other. “Egad, you really think so?” he exclaimed. “Hold on a sec, Brain. Where’s the rest of your outfit?”

“Rest of?” Brain echoed. “This doesn’t require anything else.”

Pinky shook his head and dug a red bow and matching sash out of the clothes pile. “You need a few splashes of color, Brain! Or you’ll just end up a sad wilty wallflower!”

“They’d really match your circles,” Sharon added.

Well, he’d always looked good in red. It was a bold, attention-grabbing color.

Brain draped the sash over his shoulder and fastened the bow around his ear, checking himself over in Sharon’s phone. Then Pinky and Sharon started giggling for some odd reason.

“What?” Brain asked. He was presentable at a formal event now, wasn’t he?

“You’re kinda wearing it wrong,” Sharon admitted.

His ears flattened from embarrassment. Selenians typically wore practical jumpsuits with minimal accessories, and none of their databanks ever mentioned Terran outfits. They must’ve found it unimportant.

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’s an easy fix! May I?” Pinky exclaimed.

Brain nodded his permission, and Pinky removed the bow from Brain’s ear and carefully fastened it underneath his collar, taking great care to not pull the bow too tightly around his neck.

“So this isn’t a sash. It’s a cummerbund and you wear it around your stomach,” Pinky explained as he demonstrated the proper way to wear it. It was relieving to know Terrans made accessories that would hide the slight bulge, and Brain donned the cummerbund correctly.

The accessories really did match his orbs. For the first time, he was dressed to the nines and it was a glorious feeling indeed.

“Aw, you’re both so spiffy!” Sharon exclaimed. “Mind if I put a photo of this on the Twitter page to boost some interest?”

“We’ll return the favor,” Brain said. She deserved some reward for helping them out anyway.

Sharon turned her phone around, ready to snap the picture when Pinky suddenly darted out of frame. “Hold on! Narf!” he cried, shoving a small blue butterfly-themed mask into Brain’s hands and flipping a pink feathery mask over his face. “It’s a masquerade ball, you know!”

While Brain’s mask only covered the area around his eyes, Pinky’s face was mostly hidden by his birdlike mask, leaving only his bright blue eyes exposed.

“Doesn’t that tickle?” Brain inquired as Pinky stretched his boa out for a picture.

Pinky shrugged. “A little. But I don’t mind!”

“Smile for the camera, you guys!” Sharon grinned.

Brain didn’t smile, but he stood in front of the toy house while Sharon snapped pictures and Pinky struck a different pose with every shot.

Pinky’s laughter rang joyously in Brain’s ears.

He would leave that sound behind in just a few days. But it was a small price to pay for the world.

End AN: Maybe this chapter is a little disjointed, but oh well. Sharon is based off the toy store worker who helps the mice in Brain’s Night Off.

I tried to do the math for the Monopoly game and even pulled out my Monopoly property cards so I could get the amounts correct, but if anything is inaccurate I am hereby excused from responsibility because I am a writer and not a mathematician. Yes i use that excuse every time but it’s true.

Brain's outfit comes from the tuxedo he wore in the reboot's Future Brain episode. Pluto designed Pinky's outfit herself (somehow we both were thinking lots of pink feathers for Pinky) and deserves all the credit for it cause it's so beautiful. I chose a butterfly mask for Brain and a flamingo theme for Pinky.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #patb nova

20 notes · View notes

passable-talent · 3 years

Text

ya boi is back with a new niche character played by hayden christensen for yall to enjoy.

CW: blood, wounds, cursing, piercings, tattoos, guns, fighting, deaths of unnamed characters

AJ x gn!reader - Takers (2010). the stupid hat grew on me.

dedicated as always to @haydens-moles and @iscariot-rising for being my friends and for appreciating hayden as much as I do

The story of your life, as you loved to explain it, boiled down to a little math joke. Excited five, you called it, or it’s official terminology- five factorial. Written as “5!”, hence the awful pun.

“Factorials,” you’d say, “for those that don’t remember, are a multiplication of every number up to the one that’s being discussed. As such, five factorial is five, times four, times three, times two, times one.”

Your life, your excited five, was as follows: five major scars, four tattoos, three piercings, two eyebrow slits.

“The one is usually ignored,” you’d say, “as it makes no multiplicative difference. That’s why I don’t have a ‘one’.”

In August, 2009, you got your ‘one’. Its a doozy. But we’re not there yet.

~~~

Five major scars.

December 25, 1983. It’s your first Christmas. Your parents think you’re just being a cranky infant, but something way more serious is going on- they find out the next day that you’ve got RSV, a respiratory virus that’s especially dangerous for infants. You spend the next three years periodically using a ventilator whenever the coughing acts up. You don’t remember much of it, other than the vaguely crayon-looking piece of the machine, but you can’t forget that it happened, due to the pretty white scar over the bridge of your nose. It’s not such a gnarly wound as it is a reminder- not of the ventilator that wore through your skin thanks to frequent use, but of the virus that almost took your life only a few months after it had begun.

July 28, 1993. You’re seven years old, staying at your grandmother’s house with your cousin, who’s six months older than you. You’re playing cops and robbers- he’s the cop. The forest streaks by as you run the length of the property, slightly faster than him, but he catches you and throws you down. You land on your back on a jagged rock, not only painfully impacting your spine but digging deeply into your muscles beside it. It was the first hospital visit you remember, and the dark, long scar halfway between your tailbone and your shoulders reminds you never to fall without controlling it.

January 15, 1998. You’re in sophomore year of high school, and not the most popular. You like to play by the rules, and some asshole junior decides that he doesn’t like the way you won’t let him cheat off of your trigonometry homework, and decides that a knife is the best way to settle the problem. Those homework answers weren’t worth the long white line over all four of the knuckles of your left hand, but it is a pretty little reminder that lowlifes do what they want. And law enforcement, or whatever your school called the ‘anti-bullying league’, does jack shit about it.

October 30, 2002. You’re almost done with your certification to become a cop- thank god. You couldn’t stand the people who were to become your graduate class. They were so ready to become cops just to bully people, just to get to weild an iron fist and hide their bloodlust behind the law. Not you- you’re here to do some real good. That’s what they don’t like about you. And that’s why Fred Young splits open your cheek when just he’s supposed to be practicing his sparring. It’s an ugly scar, needed six stitches, but it’s a reminder that even the cops aren’t always the good guys.

May 14, 2004. You’re a new cop, working under detective Wells. There’s a robbery of a jewelry store a few blocks from where you’re patrolling, and as you’re making your way to the scene, a man in a fedora runs smack into you, taking you both to the ground. Broken glass digs into your shoulder, but he apologizes, and his blue eyes look so genuine. He’s afraid. You’d not realize until a month later that he wasn’t a scared bystander, but in fact one of the thieves. The fifth of your scars matches your first meeting with AJ- who would, by the end of the summer, become one of the most important people in your life.

~~~

Four tattoos.

August 4, 1999- Left wrist, inside knob of the bone. The little symbol had represented something to you when you were sixteen, but it had long lost whatever meaning you’d given it. Now, it was just a pattern to pass your thumb over whenever you got restless.

February 16, 2002- The cap of the right shoulder. It was your bunk number, from when you were training to be a cop. Nothing extravagant, but it was supposed to represent the beginning of the rest of your life- it was supposed to represent your calling.

June 1, 2004- Left arm, the outside of the forearm. Bleeding from your first tattoo was a new one, the largest one on your body. It was geometrical and high contrast, black lines loosely following your veins up toward your elbow, as though that left hand was bringing darkness into your body. It did- you shot with your left hand.

July 17, 2004- Right collarbone. A single, circular monogram, made up of six letters.

T A K E R S.

~~~

Three piercings.

April 7, 1989. Your father took you to get your ears pierced, but insisted upon arrival that it was too expensive to get both done, so you only got your left. The assymetrical style would have to grow on you- at six years old, you hated it.

May 19, 2003. You couldn’t have piercings at the academy, they were unprofessional, they were dangerous. So the night of graduation, you went out and got a hole punched into your nostril- the pain made tears well up, but more than anything, it was the satisfaction of giving a pretty little ‘fuck you’ to your superiors, who you’d never see again.

July 18, 2006. AJ takes you to a fancy beauty salon for an eyebrow bar after hearing maybe once that you’d wanted another piercing. You knew you were in love with him- who else in your life had ever paid such close attention to you?

~~~

Two eyebrow slits.

June 23, 2004. You leave the police force. You tell Wells that it’s because you’re pissed you can’t find the guys that robbed the jewelry store, but that’s not even close to the truth. You’ve found them- hell, you got a good look at one of them on the very day of the robbery. But you’ve done the looking, and didn’t have the heart to bring them in. They had families. They donated ten percent of every heist to a charity. They did more for the community than the police you worked for, and they did it clean- they didn’t hurt anybody, if they didn’t have to. They did what you’d hoped to do, when you joined the force. What you’d never gotten to do. Eyebrow slits were considered extremely unprofessional, so the moment you were free of your two week notice, you split open your right eyebrow. It would give a good balance to the bar piercing you hoped to put through your left someday.

March 4, 2007. You’re cleaning up your slit when AJ walks into the room and stands behind you so that you can see him through the mirror. You keep your eyes on the trimmer you’re so delicately running over your skin, but when he opens up a little felt box with a pretty ring inside, you whirl around with such panic that you make the slit approximately half an inch wider than it should’ve been. Lilli helped you fill in the gap for the engagement photos, but you decided to keep a second slit on the other end of the unfortunate shave- a little reminder of the evening in which he proposed to you.

~~~

“The one is usually ignored,” you’d say, “as it makes no multiplicative difference. That’s why I don’t have a ‘one’.”

On August 27, 2009, you got your ‘one’.

You’d been out of the game for two years, choosing not to take a cut of the winnings. You’d advise, you’d plan, you’d set up, but you did not want to be on site when the heist went down. The boys had it taken care of, and you butted heads with Jesse far too often for anyone’s comfort.

You especially couldn’t work on this project, thanks to a little fucker named Ghost- he didn’t trust you, as a member of the Takers he’d never met, and you didn’t trust him, as a criminal you’d never grown to respect.

You knew that most of them didn’t trust Ghost either, but everything he brought forward checked out- AJ must’ve mumbled the plan thirty times in his sleep in the five days from its suggestion to its fruition. There were no holes. Knowing Gordon and John, they had some ‘insurance’ for Ghost, anyway. In case it went wrong.

Still, you stayed at the Hotel Roosevelt through it all. You were their sitter, keeping the hotel room warm and ready for their arrival. They arrived back one by one- and like usual, AJ got there first. He, Gordon, and John were usually the first to get out, but he always made it back to the room first, because that way he could get some time with you. That way, he could have a private reunion, fresh off of a job.

“Hey, baby,” he said as he closed the door, and you waited for him to turn his eyes to you before you gave him a smile. He threw down his bag onto one of the chairs, and it landed with a heavy thump, but you’d long grown used to the sound of the score. However much he pulled, good for him. You were just happy to slip your arms around his neck and feel him kiss the scar on your cheekbone before sliding his lips to yours.

He always kissed different right after a job- before the boys had all gotten back, before the total was counted. He had a confidence to his movement, but there was fear, insecurity, just a tinge. He wasn’t just a taker, he was a man, who had worries and risks just like every other man.

You were out of the game for a few reasons. They had it taken care of. You butted heads with Jesse. You didn’t trust Ghost. But you knew that you were AJ’s biggest fear- you knew that if you got hurt on a job, he’d never forgive himself.

So he kissed you, he held you close, he reminded himself that you were here, you were fine. His long fingers seems to take up half your back, and his hair was already in his face, as though you’d tugged it there yourself.

With just one more pass of your lips over his, you pulled away.

“How’d it go?” You asked with a soft voice, rolling your first finger through the curls at the back of his neck.

“Could’ve gone better,” he said with a chuckle, “but we got it done.” You heard a knock at the door, and Gordon was the next arrival- then John, then Jake, then Ghost. Jesse came last, and with him, a whole host of new problems.

A bullet splintered the door and caught AJ somewhere under the ribcage. Everyone hit the floor, diving behind couches, and you popped your head up long enough to see AJ launch over the kitchen island. The room shattered into gunfire and feathers from expensive pillows, glass shards littering the ground like raindrops. It all moved so fast, and the air exploded into noise. You could barely track AJ through it all, he was so far away, all the way across the room. And you wanted to keep your eye straight down the barrel of your gun.

“AJ!” Jesse called from beside you, hidden behind a brown leather couch, “You okay?” You looked around the side of it, and saw him ten feet from you, the longest ten feet of your life, behind the kitchen island. He was struggling, on his hands and knees.

“Get up,” you snarled, knowing he’d already taken a hit.

“Out the back!” John ordered from the doorway behind you, and you started to realize the moment, the dangerous, heavy moment. AJ was all the way across the room- he couldn’t cross it. Not with these mobsters holding ground.

“Let’s go!” Gordon shouted, and your eyes connected with AJ’s. He saw the same thing you did.

“Go,” he said, voice calm, and it cut through the chaos of the room, cut through every hardened lesson ever pounded into you, cut through every wall you’d ever built around you, around your heart. “I’m coming.”

AJ was a good liar. But he couldn’t lie to you.

“No,” you growled through gritted teeth, and you made a rash decision.

You’d always been good at gymnastics. You had strong control over the movement of your body, and had, ever since you’d learned from your cousin throwing you down onto that stone that split open your back. You could move and slink and roll and dive in ways that would keep you not only from falling, but even from being noticed.

Using the chaos as your cover, you did a tight diving roll across the room to him, slipping between shelters unscathed. This brought you just a bit closer to the mobsters, but further from the back door exit that Gordon had been trying to guide you toward. You’d chose AJ over your safety any day- the surprise and the fear in his eyes said that he wished you wouldn’t.

Making sure you had enough ammo, you considered your final move- this didn’t end until these mobsters did. There were five of them left, after all this commotion: four in the room, one in the hall. You couldn’t take all five, not with their guns being so much more than yours, but you could take out a few. You could shift attention, you could buy time.

And hopefully, you could stay breathing, too. That’d be nice.

“Stay down,” you hissed, leaving AJ behind the island where he’d be forgotten about, or assumed dead. Then, you rounded the corner and rolled to the feet of the closest mobster. As you came out of the roll you caught his legs in yours, wrenching them from under him and taking him to the ground with one of the first moves you’d learned in basic training. He hit the wall hard, and was unconscious by the time he landed- the same could not be said for his friends.

From your right, you could see Gordon, still firing, still hopeful for your and AJ’s escape. Your shoulders were above the couch, so you knew he saw as you turned your weapon to the second mobster before he could turn to you, and stopped his heart.

Your commotion had caught the attention of the other three who still remained. You whirled around and raised your gun to one of them, but they managed it first.

Gordon had to swallow back his horror as he saw a bullet enter the front of your side profile, and blood explode from the back. He took out the mobster who still had his attention on you- but your shoulders smacked to the ground outside of his view, and he closed the door.

Luckily, their aim was spotty. You now had a useless left arm, but you were still breathing. Not that you’d let the one remaining mobster notice that.

You and AJ played dead, only a few feet from each other, but the kitchen island becoming a thicker wall than any you’d ever been split by. As you stared blankly at the ceiling, taking shallow breaths hidden by the folds of your shirt, you hoped he didn’t think you were dead. You hoped he wasn’t bleeding out.

After what felt like agonizingly long minutes, the shooting finally stopped, and the door opened again. Gordon was the first to enter the room, and rounded the couch to you, grief in his eyes, expecting the worst.

But you could give him a smile.

“Surprise,” you groaned, and he lit up in relief, helping you sit up with your good arm.

“Look at you, playing dirty,” he said with a laugh, “I thought you were gone for sure.”

“AJ,” you heard Jake say from across the room, and finally AJ could sit up from where you’d forced him down. The two of you had both bled straight through your shirts, but there wasn’t any time for sweet reunions- everyone had to get out, and fast.

AJ left his car wherever it was. John gave the two of you a ride to the airstrip where Gordon was going to disappear for a while, and on the way you and AJ attempted to give each other first aid until the personnel on the plane could take care of it.

Eventually, you leaned against his left, and he against your right, your wounds still stinging and sticky with blood, but manageable, for as long as they needed to be.

The night didn’t get any easier, but that didn’t matter- you were home free, they’d managed the job, and Ghost was out of the picture, and neither of you were going to die.

And someday, when you felt brave enough to recount your near-death, near-loss, near-jailed experience, you’d say:

Five major scars, four tattoos, three piercings, two eyebrow slits. And one gun shot wound.

-🦌 Roe

#reader insert #angst #aj #aj takers #takers #takers 2010 #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #x reader #gn!reader #aj x reader #fics

189 notes · View notes

staticspaces · 3 years

Photo

Inn on the River

Part two of the video is out, check out the link below!! And if you haven't subscribed yet, what are you waiting for!!?

https://youtu.be/YzRYVQ7re3k

Last post from this abandoned hotel...not that anyone is interested! lol Either way, if I have time to get the photos ready, I will post another abandoned motel I have visited in the past!

In the previous video, we looked at the main building which housed what would have been the motel lobby, the dining room and the gift shop. Today we will see what the rooms looked like. Full of retro decor and and an unbelievable amount of natural decay, this was one of those locations that was extremely photogenic!!

Update: There have been a rash of fires in the same area of this motel over the last few days, I have heard of three others nearby at other abandoned properties. This sheds some light on to who likely started the fire that destroyed this motel's main building. A lot of people suspect it is the owners/developers that do this sort of thing, sometimes to lessen the cost of demolition, for insurance purposes or to get rid of a heritage building but this is often not the case. Usually it is kids who get into these places and are playing with fire, sometimes it could be a homeless person trying to keep warm but in the case of this particular building, I have no doubt that it is a serial arsonist in the area given that it is not an isolated incident.

This motel which opened in June of 1959 and sits on four acres of land. It was considered a resort at the time that offered many amenities such as a restaurant with (dine-in and take out service), dairy bar (which as far as I can tell has been gone for some time), souvenir shop, outdoor swimming pool, mini golf and a games area.

In 1989 the owner applied for a zoning amendment to permit not one but two 14-storey towers to be built on the 1.6-hectare property, the city denied the zoning change and blocked any future development for one year. Two years later after the owner appealed the decision to the Ontario Municipal Board, the ruling fell in his favour, unfortunately by that time tourism in the area was slowing and the development proposal was put on hold.

Abandoned for over a decade, I searched and searched to find out when this motel closed but the best clue I could find was that someone had stayed there as recently as 2006.

On April 10th of 2019 at approximately 7pm the main building of the inn caught fire and firefighters were able to salvage most of the building. After the fire there was a gaping hole on the tallest part of the structure allowing for the elements to enter and further degrade the building. Despite this the building was still structurally sound and had suffered relatively minor damage considering the circumstances. Fast forward to May 1st, 2021 at about 730pm, another fire broke out in the same building, this fire was substantially worse than the first one and although firefighters tried to battle the blaze it proved to be too much and by the following day the building was nothing more than a pile of rubble!!

30 notes · View notes

tteokggukk · 4 years

Text

game night → pjm

✳ pairing: jimin x reader

✳ genre: fluff, best friends to lovers au, (kind of a) college au

✳ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drinking, some light swearing

✳ words: 2.9k

✳ synopsis: in which you and your best friend jimin play a game of monopoly with a twist, and you find yourself spilling every thought and secret kept in your head.

✳ a/n: missed playing board games with my friends and i thought a game night scenario with jimin would be really cute. hope u enjoy reading!!

It was tradition for you and Jimin to come over at your place every week to bond and hang out. Originally you'd hang out multiple times a week, but that was back in high school. Once college started, you both decided it would no longer be realistic and possible to meet thrice a week with all the deadlines and requirements to prioritize, so you settled with once or twice every weekend. This was one of the activities neither of you ever missed or skipped out on, especially because it was the most quality time you'd ever get with your long time best friend.

Tonight was game night. As Jimin requested over text, he decided to bring Monopoly even though you begged him not to. You've never won against him even with others around, and so playing against just him wouldn't grant you lower odds. Unfortunately, you had no choice to say no because it was his turn to make plans this week.

In the span of six years you've known Jimin, you've seen each other grow into different people. Changes here and there were becoming much more prominent over time, it was hard to ignore how his body had become more defined, how his jaw had sharpened and how he'd grown inches taller than you. Back then, you were certain nothing would be able to change your friendship and that it would stay that way forever.

You hadn’t known it back then, but these gradual changes were made to rewire that sort of thinking.

For the past three years, you've developed a small crush on him which you often had to hide because you were afraid of telling him the truth. When you both started to drink, you made sure not to get too drunk around him as to not spill your secret. Jimin always thought you just hated drinks.

It was almost four in the afternoon, and Jimin would be arriving in an hour. You quickly decide to shower first and fix up before he came but avoided fixing up too much for him to question why you looked so dressed up. You didn't want him thinking you dolled yourself up for him.

It was just a casual night with your best friend.

Later on, the doorbell rang and you rushed to get the door. Jimin came in holding the box of Monopoly in one hand while carrying a paper bag in the other.

"Hey," he greeted. You took the box from his hand to help him out as he pulled you in for a side hug.

"Hi," you smiled, being completely engulfed in the familiar delicate musk of his perfume that brought you comfort.

He took his shoes off and walked into your kitchen to grab himself a glass of water. You set the board game down on your coffee table and followed him.

"What's in the bag?" You asked curiously, eyeing the paper bag he was holding.

"I thought maybe we'd play Monopoly," a playful smile crept up on his lips before bringing out three bottles of soju and placing it on your counter, "With a twist."

"Jimin! You know I don't drink much," You whined as he stepped closer to you, holding the bottle up closer to your eyes.

"These are flavored! You wouldn't even feel like you're drinking alcohol, they taste like juice, I swear," he smiled innocently, his beaming eyes were almost enough to convince you.

"I can't be hungover the next morning, I have a paper to write," You argued.

"I've never seen you hungover, how could you know how bad it is?" He laughed and placed the bottle of grapefruit soju back on the table.

"I just know they suck, because of how you deal with them." When Jimin first started drinking and would wake up with a hangover, he'd call to let you know how much his head hurt and how badly he'd throw up, so you'd come over to his place and take care of him. Over time he's gotten used to it and they're no longer as bad, but you'd still come over and cook soup for him just to help.

He always loved it when you did. When he began to notice how nurturing you've become, sometimes he'd call for the simplest of reasons just for you to spend time with him.

"I promise I'll stop you when you drink too much," he offers, to which you sigh. You could never really say no to him, anyway.

"Fine."

"Is your cash complete?" Jimin asks you while he fixes the pile of money on the side. He was playing the banker tonight as well.

"Yep," you told him, placing your money aside, "You done fixing that?"

"Mhm," he hums, "Wait! Almost forgot." He stands up and takes walks to your kitchen cabinet, "Where are your shot glasses?"

"Cabinet on your right," you told him while you looked through the chance cards. There was absolutely no way you were winning against him, you thought.

You both sat on the floor with the game spread on your coffee table. Grinning, he places the glasses next to the game board and opened the bottle of soju.

"So here's how we're gonna play," Jimin says excitedly, "You drink every time you land on someone's property, when you roll doubles, when you land on GO, when you go to jail, if you're in jail and I visit, whenever the other player buys a house, if you go bankrupt, and when you land on utilities and railroads."

You sat up straight with wide eyes, shocked at how smoothly he pointed out each time you had to drink. At this rate, you wondered how long it would take before you took a shot for each rule.

"Are you serious?" You asked.

"Yup," he smiles.

"We might as well have gone to a club, if you're gonna make me drink that much."

"I already altered the rules, you're supposed to drink for a lot of other stuff," he laughs, "I altered it for you." He proceeds to ruffle your hair which makes you blush. Thankfully the dim lights made it easy to hide the color on your face.

"Well, then, thank you very much," You bowed your head in sarcasm, "Why don't we start?"

"Confident you can win against me?" He smirks.

"Most of the time, yeah. But at this game I never am."

Jimin was good. And he was extremely smart. He knew how to quickly acquire properties and utilities and leave you feeling like you didn't properly know how to play the game even though you did. The rules were made for him while you were just a rookie made to watch.

"Y/n, you can buy a house, you know!" He laughs, "Babe, here." Your cheeks turn red at the nickname. You've been calling each other that for years albeit platonic, but these days it bothered you even more than it did. You cleared your throat to wipe your thoughts away.

You'd taken about five shots now. Normally, you'd have a pretty high tolerance but you could tell it wasn't going to take long before five shots turned to ten, and ten shots turned to twenty. Jimin so far has only had two.

It was hard to keep track with how much you were drinking because the alcohol was so sweet, if you weren't with Jimin you could gulp it all down in one go. The moment you could no longer count how many shots you've downed; the vision of delay was your only tell with how much you've drank so far.

Though you weren't completely drunk, you knew a couple more would be enough to make you intoxicated.

"I hate you," you muttered, cheeks feeling warm because of the alcohol kicking in, "You wanted this because I would lose."

Jimin laughs. His cheeks were also red now because of the alcohol, "I wanted this because I thought you would talk about how much you love counting the money."

"Clearly, I can't do that. I'm bankrupt," you whined as you handed him all your money for landing on his blue property with a hotel, "Oh shit."

Jimin started laughing really hard, he fell back onto the floor. When he got up, he was still laughing as he poured you another shot. Possibly your last one.

"I can't believe how bad you are at this," He chuckles as you took the glass and gulped it down in one go, "Should we stop? I feel like you've drank enough."

"The game? Hell yeah. Let's stop, I'm terrible at it," You sighed in defeat. The alcohol was definitely getting to you now. Jimin smiled to himself, clearly amused at the way you were acting. He began cleaning and packed up the board before sitting next to you on the floor, assuring you that you’d play a game you were better at the next time you had game night.

You took another shot of soju.

"Hey, hey," He takes the glass from your hands, "Babe, you're drinking way too much."

"This really does taste like juice," You were slurring now, "It's okay, I can handle it."

Jimin raises a brow and watches you carefully, "You sure?"

"Yeah I've got it," You nodded. You've forgotten all about not drinking too much around Jimin and just enjoyed the sweet taste of the alcohol in your mouth, sending you this wonderful sensation in your head.

Suddenly, as if your mouth had a mind of its own, you began talking about everything and anything. You talked about how you got annoyed whenever people would leave without closing the door, you talked about how this video of a cat made you cry the other day, how your hair hasn't been cooperating with the styles you want lately…

Jimin listened, watching the way your lips moved as it lost its filter. Even when you complained about a useless group mate, he found you magnetizing.

"I mean, I think I should've just left her name out of the paper, but teamwork was part of the criteria…" you mumbled. You looked over at Jimin, who's elbow was resting on the coffee table while his head rested on his hand. He was staring at you with this fond look and warm smile, you almost wanted to throw yourself onto him.

At least you still had restraint. Barely.

"I've never seen you drunk before," He says with crinkled eyes, "You talk more."

"Do I?"

"Mhm," He moves in closer, placing his hand on your head to play with your hair, "It feels like you're telling me everything. Like you're trying to empty all your words out."

"I've still got some reserved in my head," you told him, completely unaware of the coy smile on your face. This was new to Jimin, and it sent him a lot of mixed signals in his brain.

"Oh, yeah? Care to let them out?" He spoke, almost like he was challenging you to.

"Alright, sure," You cleared your throat and stared up at the ceiling, "I really want a cat. I really like ice cream..." He watched you carefully, hanging on your every word.

"And I think I'm in love with you," you said, looking at him. You could tell he was startled by the look in his eyes, but all you wanted to do right now was to kiss him there on the spot.

A smile was beginning to creep up on Jimin's lips as he searched your eyes for any sign of lies. His eyes remained on yours as you slowly went nearer, and nearer. He stayed in place, clearly knowing what was to come.

And you kissed him. Even while you were intoxicated you could feel how soft his plump, pink lips were. Time had stopped and you could only hear your own heart beat now as Jimin's hands found their way to your cheeks while you held onto his wrist. No amount of alcohol could beat the feeling of elation his lips gave you.

When you both pulled away, Jimin immediately wanted to tell you everything. He had a feeling this was going to be a long night of conversations filled with confessions and soft kisses, completely different from the times you've spent together before. He was wrong, of course.

Maybe it was your body dropping from the high, but the moment your lips detached from one another, you fell asleep. Just like that. Jimin was worried at first, wondering maybe you've really had too much alcohol, but when he started hearing your small, quiet snores, he felt relieved. He laughed at how easily you dozed off and carried you to bed, admiring you for a while before proceeding to clean up the mess. When he was done cleaning, he freshened up a bit, changed into his extra clothes and got into bed with you.

He allowed himself to play with your hair (he always loved doing that) and observe your facial features which he always admired before holding you in his arms until he fell asleep.

When you woke up the next day, you felt the sun hit your eyes followed by the smell of breakfast perking you up. The moment you sat up, you could feel a grave headache coming in as this weird feeling in your stomach began to stir.

You had this unbelievable urge to vomit. You rushed out of bed to puke in the toilet, not realizing Jimin had seen you and followed you to hold your hair up and rub your back. When you were done, you wiped the vomit off of your mouth and gargled some water, preparing to brush your teeth. You looked at the mirror in disgust. Your face looked awful and worn out and extra tired, it was obvious you were drinking last night. You almost screamed when you saw Jimin standing behind you through the mirror.

"Jimin, oh my God," You breathed out, "You scared me."

He laughed a bit before moving his hands to your waist, hugging you a bit before kissing your cheek, "I made breakfast. You should come join me." He leaves the bathroom to give you some privacy, allowing to do whatever you needed to do. You were a bit embarrassed at the gesture because you had just vomited, but it still made you feel butterflies.

When you were done brushing your teeth and washing your face, you went to join Jimin for breakfast.

Looking at him now, you could clearly remember the stuff that happened last night before you knocked yourself out. You kissed him, you told him how you felt, you came onto him first— there was no turning back from that.

"Last night was my first time seeing you drunk," Jimin chuckles softly, "Did you know you talk a lot more when you drink?"

"Yeah…" you laughed nervously, "It's annoying."

"It was amusing," he grins, "I could get used to it."

You couldn't help but smile. After you finished eating breakfast, Jimin handed you a glass of water and ibuprofen and insisted that you stay in bed while he washed the dishes. You tried to tell him you could help, but he said it was his job to take care of you this time and you couldn't refuse.

When he was done washing the dishes, he sat beside you on your bed.

"Do you need anything? I could make you some food. Carbs are good for hangovers," he offers.

"No, I think I'm okay," you smiled, trying to muster up the courage to talk about what happened, "Jimin, about last night."

Should you say sorry? No, it would sound like you regretted it. He kissed you back, didn't he? What did you need to talk about? What did you need to hear? What would make you stop worrying?

"Before you say anything else," Jimin gently holds your hand, "I'm in love with you, too."

Just like that, the storm in your head had stopped.

"You are?" You sat up, but sort of regretted it because of the throbbing pain that intensified in your head.

"Yeah, always have been," he smiles sheepishly.

"Since when?" You asked.

"Since our third year in high school. I don't really know what sparked it, I just remember noticing how much prettier you got and how smart you sounded."

You laughed, "Really? I never knew."

"I’ve tried flirting with you countless times, you know," he admitted, a shy smile on his face, "I don't think you ever got the message."

"I guess now you know," you smiled, "Message received."

He smiles really wide and squeezes your hand. You pat the empty side of the bed and Jimin understands as he begins to lie down next to you, holding you in his arms.

"Get some rest, I'll wake you up later for your paper," he says softly while caressing your hair. You could feel his chest rising up and down, calming your senses. Being with him right now made you feel like you were in the safest place on Earth.

"Thank you," you spoke quietly, the smile never leaving your lips. Before you knew it, your eyes began to flutter shut but you didn't miss the way Jimin kissed your head.

"I love you," he whispered. Little did Jimin know that the perfect cure to your hangover wasn't ibuprofen or cooking up food with carbs.

It was being here, held up safe in his arms.

a/n: hope u guys liked it :’( here are links to my other works if you’d like to check them out:

let’s fall in love for the night (taehyung x reader)

welcome to my youtube channel (taehyung x reader)

all an act (seokjin x reader)

and my ongoing social media au, fan identity (jungkook x reader) in which the taglist is open! just send an ask :-)

i should make a masterlist soon ;-;

see you in my next fic/edit!

254 notes · View notes

pixiebuggiewrites · 3 years

Text

Sorry Wrong Number!

Masterpost - Previous - Next - Ao3 link

Chapter 2: Hawkmoth has really bad designs and perhaps even worse timing

Since it was her off night from patrol, Ladybug was the last one onto the scene. She landed down on a building next to Viperion, who was observing the akuma’s skillset as Kuro Neko played distraction down below them.

The villain of tonight's look was... interesting to put it nicely. They were a boy around the same age as the heroes that seemed to be wearing a slightly oversized purple and blue three piece suit with a not-so-subtle lightning pattern running up the arms. His hair was shock white and seemed to be defying gravity while his eyes were protected by bright blue goggles-possibly where the akuma was residing. More importantly, he seemed to be covered in electricity, which was gonna make it difficult to get any hits in. He also had a laptop with him- another contender for the akuma’s hiding place but most likely just a weapon.

Not Hawkmoth’s worst design, but it definitely wasn't his finest work either. Though to be fair she had run around in spotted spandex for two years before she found out she could change her costume, so those in glass houses she supposed.

Viperion, noticing the team leader's arrival began to fill her in on what they knew so far.

“They're calling themselves ‘Elect-Trick’, keeps sending out shockwaves to try and knock us back which is frustrating but our suits seem to take the brunt of it which helps but Neko’s staff is a no go at the moment since there's no way to know if it’ll conduct the electricity.”

It likely would, something they had found out the hard way during the last weather akuma they had to face. While magical it was still metallic in nature sadly, which meant she needed to also be careful with her yoyo. She still isn't really sure what it’s made of besides magic, but this was not the way she wanted to find out.

“Alright, in that case we’ll continue to keep him away from the Eiffel Tower, it’s likely the akuma’s going to try and use it as a large conductor. I’m gonna head down, stay up here and be ready to use your second chance at the signal.” She instructed

Viperion nodded and went back to watching the fight just as Ladybug swooped down to join in. She was just in time as the akuma had begun to corner Neko, who had no choice but to rely on playing defense while her staff was out of the mix. The two heroes nodded their heads in greeting as Ladybug yoyo-d her cat themed friend over putting the duo back on even ground with the villain, who seemed to be ranting about school elections of all things.

Which would be a probable explanation for the first half of his name.

The two continued to fight back against the akuma, neither side quite able to grab the upper hand. Ladybugs yoyo-as it turned out, did not conduct electricity afterall. And, seeing as it's practically indestructible she was able to land hits on the akuma without getting shocked. But the akuma had realized the issue with Neko’s staff and was using that to their advantage, aiming a decent chunk of their attacks at the cat hero which forced them to go back on the defense.

As the fight had been going for over an hour at this point, the spotted heroine decided to bring out the big guns. After doing a silent signal letting Viperion know to start his timer, she got in position to call on her lucky charm.

But she didn't get a chance to. Just as she went to throw her yoyo in the air, Viperion called out a warning that sent a feeling of dread through her.

“LB watch out, There's an amok headed straight for the computer!”

Sure enough, there was an all too familiar purple feather floating through the air on track for the laptop that she quickly caught and purified it before it could land. Thank the Kwami for the power of second chance, nobody wanted to deal with a sentimonster on top of everything else tonight.

Keeping Kuro Neko on the lookout for anymore feathers, She finally activated her lucky charm. Throwing her yoyo up she manifests… a slingshot! She could work with that, just needed to find ammo. Looking around her eyes land firmly on the window of a small toyshop.

Bingo!

Having Viperion keeping an eye out in case he was needed temporarily as backup, she sneaks over and breaks the window with her yoyo. Typically, the heroine would feel bad about causing this much property damage but tonight she’s tired and wants to get this over with so she can make a plan of action for the whole ‘Mayura seems to be back’ thing with her team and maybe get at least a couple hours of sleep. Anyways her miraculous cure would fix the window and return the bouncy balls she was actively stealing so no harm done? After finishing committing what was technically a misdemeanor, she made her way over to the roof Viperion was on and handed off the slingshot supplies before making her way back down.

Luckily Neko had managed to keep Elect-Trick distracted enough for the team to catch him off guard. On Ladybugs call Viperion began to pelt the Akuma with rubber balls, drawing his sight away for long enough to tie him up and take his glasses. One cataclysm later, the teen had been successfully deakumatized and she was able to cast her cure, fixing the decent chunk of property damage caused that night. After making sure the teen was okay to get home safe and getting his address for the interview she would have to conduct later, she turned to her team.

“Good work today guys, let's meet back at base in 30.” Her eyes communicated the urgency of the meeting despite the neutral tone of voice she tried to maintain.

From there the teens all departed in separate directions to recharge their powers and head to the team's secret base.

----------

Okay so secret base was a bit of an overstatement. It is a secret place that the team uses as a base of operations but it was less of a Batcave and more of a repurposed hotel room in Le Grand Paris.

Chloe had brought up the idea after one too many close calls with Marinette's parents while the girls were investigating Hawkmoth. They needed a place to discuss hero work safely without having to talk in code but the question was where. Obtaining an apartment would be difficult as all of them but Luka were still underage, not to mention the issue of trying to pay rent without any parental suspicion. Luckily for Chloe, it's surprisingly easy to just claim a hotel room without being questioned when your Father owns the hotel.

And while it was no Batcave, it wasn't anything to scoff at either. The four teens had been able to pool together enough money in the beginning for the basics, which meant that now any small snuck away chunks of commission money, music gig payments, competition winnings, and allowances were all able to go to improving things bit by bit.

The room was already quite nice, having a separate bedroom that they used as a gym and a kitchenette that was kept well stocked with kwami snacks. Then there was the main area, which had been split down the middle. The first side was dedicated to the investigation and housing Marinette's Guardian materials, While the second half was a hangout zone where they could chat or decompress after any particularly rough fights.

The base was also secure, Marinette had put so many spells and protections on the room with the help of the kwami that it might as well be a pocket dimension of sorts. The magical security system of sorts was extremely complicated, being tied to the teams auras in a way so that the only way to even find it without being one of them was to be taken there by Ladybug herself. It had taken weeks to pull off but was well worth it to give her team a place that was safe from the outside world.

Ladybug was the first to arrive this time, having flopped down into a chair at their meeting table as her two friends entered the room and joined her. They all sat there for a moment, processing the fact of Mayura’s return. Of course this would happen when they were down a member, it wasn't a complete surprise that the peacock miraculous would come back into play at some point but it was really bad timing.

“So what exactly is the plan?” Viperion asked, finally breaking the silence.

Ladybug sighed, knowing that their workload was going to increase once again. At least it was close to summer vacation.

“First we need to increase patrols- especially around the typical hot spots, Neko do you think we’ll be able to finish those jars by this time next week?”

The cat hero nodded “They're almost done, we’ll need to test them somehow though.”

The two of them had recently been working on a variation of an object enchantment technique mentioned in the grimoire. The original object was dubious in nature, having been used as a cage of sorts that kwami wouldn't be able to phase through. Marinette was disgusted by the thought, further feeding into some suspicions she had about the old order. As she was ranting about it to Kagami about it, her fencer friend got an idea for a way to repurpose the spell to trap akuma when Ladybug couldn't easily get to a fight. It would also allow them a new way to prevent possessions when Ladybug wasn't actively on patrol.

“That's good. Lastly I need Bee’s new number, I was going to ask you for it tomorrow but I need to give her a heads up to start on a new case file. We also might want to move up our plans to contact the heroes there.”

Kuro Neko quickly jotted down the number on a nearby notecard and handed it to Ladybug. After hammering out a few last details about their new patrol schedules the heroes were all free to head home for the night.

The trip home was uneventful, and she arrived home to see that it was just past midnight. She also noticed that her bath bomb had been fixed! It was sometimes a gamble on if something like that would count as akuma damage so it was a nice victory after the day she’s had.

Marinette quickly put in Chloe's number, eager to get to bed. She sent her blonde friend a summary on what happened and let her know to be on the lookout for an email tomorrow with the information to assemble a case file. And with that, Marinette drifted off to sleep.

She had made a small mistake though. In her tired state the young designer’s finger slipped, putting a 5 where there was meant to be a 4.

Meaning Chloe Bourgeois was not the recipient of her intended message.

Good thing she wrote the message in code?

----------

Across the ocean, Damian Wayne received a strange text message.

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

Taglist (open!!):

@queencommonsense

#maribat #daminette #maridami #ml x dc #sorry wrong number #buggiewrites

69 notes · View notes

reversecreek · 3 years

Photo

MEET THE NPCS...

BOBBY YANG, “BIG BOB” .

1. how old are they and what do they look like?

thirty-four. implausibly tall. the day magda first saw a sketch of slenderman she thought of him. when her aunt shelly pulled up the dirt road to abernathy creek magda remembers seeing him through a dusty back window with his head bowed to avoid getting tree leaves in his eyes, joint between his lips, dungarees dirty and half unbuckled. one side of his hair is buzzed with no apparent style intention and he has a weed leaf tattooed behind his left ear. an elephant on his thigh. a name on his ankle he often wears a plaster over. once it soaked through and fell off in the creek and, newly glossy in the sun, nine year old magda reached to give it a blunt and shameless prod. big bob never explained who the name belonged to, he only reached to thumb at the minari growing by the water bed and talk about the fact it was a "versatile little sucker”.

2. if applicable, where and when did they meet your muse?

big bob introduced himself as such and magda raised her eyebrow in disbelief, the soul of a disgruntled pensioner in a seven yr old’s body. magda didn’t rly talk to anyone when she first arrived in her new home, verging on mute. she was angry at the move, angry that her dad hadn’t called her when she got there, angry that she didn’t know her mother’s voice to imagine it telling her everything was okay. the world made her so angry she didn’t want to acknowledge it. she sat outside in silence for a long time letting a ladybug crawl over her hand, and big bob didn’t ask anything of her, he only schlepped closer and presented her with a buttercup. she looked at it like it’d spat in her face but took it nonetheless. it was strange having an actual bed, if you could call a bare mattress that, used to sleeping on the sofa in shelly’s old trailer, and the springs nipped at her like a dog demanding treats, so she wandered outside in one of shelly’s big tie dye shirts like a nightdress, searching for the moon. big bob was standing out there already in the overgrown grass, stark naked, chin lifted to gawk at the moon himself. magda didn’t disturb him. this is when she first discovered his habit of naked sleepwalking. abernathy creek felt like a bird house overrun with all kinds of eccentric, squawking parakeets. it was a lot for a seven yr old to take in. this was a strange reality she’d never signed up for, swallowed by the commune to overheat inside it’s belly.

3. what kind of a presence do they have in your muse’s life? do they have a positive or negative relationship?

bob’s definitely a character. three times now he’s slipped hallucinogens into magda’s tea without her knowing under the impression that this is just harmless fun and he’s actually helping her by pushing her little boat to bob along the ocean of enlightenment, once at as young as 16. every time she realises he’s like “y’just got bobbeddddd!” and magda’s like here we go ig. told her the raw earth has healing properties to explain why he’d dug up the grass just to rub his hands in the soil and lay there like a panting, overheated dog. he’s an important component to abernathy creek and oversees a lot of the agriculture there. rigged up the irrigation system himself using copper pipes that magda suspects were stolen. the beat up camper van that’s usually parked up behind abernathy and hidden under leafy branches appeared when he did, apparently, although he insists it belongs to everyone. he leads the crusades to drive it up to the mountains and take a group of abernathy creek residents shroom picking. he’s in charge of drying them for selling, too. jack of all trades, really. magda claims not to care for him (or anyone) but she still walked out onto the grass, took his hand and lead him inside whenever she found him sleepwalking at night in her teens. once a group of kids were daring each other to get closer when he was out there and magda threw a stone so hard at one of their shin’s it split it open and made them scatter. but again, magda “does not care about him”. the jury is not convinced.

4. are they revered in irving? do they have bad blood with anyone?

honestly everyone in irving probably thinks he’s a rly strange guy and i won’t fk around. he kind of is. wears many necklaces around his neck n one is just a pouch that has a prehistoric mosquito encased in a little piece of amber inside. sometimes magda wonders if he likes to play up to his reputation by putting it on a little bit. once she saw him suddenly jerking his head like a pecking chicken and saying “g’warn GET” to scare a random middle aged hiker into galloping in the opposite direction in the trees near abernathy. has a masterful knowledge of bird songs and can imitate them all impeccably. sometimes does this instead of replying with words. never cares about the holes in his shoes where his toes poke out. always seems to be turning a rusty coin between his fingers like it helps him think. he makes moonshine that will knock u off ur feet tho which is always a good time if ur lucky enough to try it. he has a very rich n warm voice like a log fire or a gooey chocolate brownie. even with all of his oddities he sounds kind. he’s very unconventional n doesn’t abide by rules of society a lot but he’s quite funny n a good time. makes engaging smalltalk if u treat him with respect. weird but admittedly a tiny bit wonderful.

OTIS WOLFE.

1. how old are they and what do they look like?

forty-six but he looks older. the skin beneath his eyes is subtly purpled like it’s been dyed by a lick of beetroot juice. he has a very charismatic walk which doesn’t sound like it makes sense but it does to look at him. he walks everywhere buoyantly and with purpose. very high energy in his good days. lives everything in large quantities, good and bad. always used to wear a tan leather bomber jacket when magda was growing up but he forgot it w her one visit n it’s the only time she’s known him to call up two days after leaving to ask if she’d seen it. magda lied and said she hadn’t. she still has it to this day. sleeps in it on her bad days. otis has a smile so big it shines like live wires are sparking in his mouth. magda’s fingertips prickle like she’s an hour recovering from shoving a fork into a plug socket whenever she sees it. she used to think that’s what excitement felt like. that used to be true.

2. what kind of a presence do they have in your muse’s life? do they have a positive or negative relationship?

it’s very complicated. magda knows her dad isn’t a good person but she knows he isn’t a bad person either. sometimes it’s more frustrating to see things in grey because you just want something solid to take shape that u can actually put ur finger on. she finds herself perpetually stood at a fork in the road between believing in him still and deciding he’s no good. sometimes she’ll start walking in one direction only to realise it loops back on itself and she’s right back where she started. otis has given her a lot of fun “adventures”. taught her how to juggle. they stayed in a hotel on someone else’s credit card once and racked up a gargantuan tab ordering every form of room service and renting godzilla and the matrix on pay per view when she was 11. sometimes he’d use her in gimmicks where she had to lie and pretend she had a health condition so they could get a few bucks off charitable strangers on a street corner and under the veil of youth magda found playing up these roles funny because who would ever believe that? wasn’t everyone in the world so stupid except them? it was nice being part of his team. his “little wolfie”. but then a lot of things weren’t nice either. he’s left her stranded on the side of the road with nowhere to go on more than one occasion. he’s passed out in motel corridors and she’s had to lug him into a bed. he’s forgotten almost every birthday apart from one where he sent a card with five dollars inside and handwriting so squiggly she could tell he was drunk when he wrote it. he doesn’t know she likes to sing because he’s only ever listened when he’s fallen asleep. otis is all of magda’s heart and that’s why sometimes she likes to forget that it’s beating.

3. are they revered in irving? do they have bad blood with anyone?

he’s very flighty n rarely in irving any more tbh but was more when magda was younger n his visits were a little less sporadic. probably owes a bunch of people money for some reason or another. smashed up fannie’s recently when he turned up drunk and got ahead of himself on a giddy n frenzied rampage in the name of “fun” n “just having a laugh”. magda’s aunt shelly really doesn’t get on with her brother n thinks he’s a complete deadbeat waste of space n resents him a lot for the impact he’s had on magda. magda remembers being little and peeking through a crack in shelly’s trailer door when he turned up drunk one time to collect her for a visit n shelly wouldn’t let him in. something along the lines of “you don’t give a rat’s ass about that little girl” and “she worships you, y’know that? most of the time, you don’t even remember her name”. magda crept back onto the sofa and pretended to be asleep by the time she came inside.

4. if your muse is no longer in contact with them, how did the relationship end? did your muse get closure over this?

magda slowly stopped trying to keep in contact over the years. it got embarrassing trying so hard when she didn’t get much back. like pushing a boulder all the way up a hill only to watch it roll back down again. it’s probably contributed a lot towards magda’s inability to really try with people like she should, especially when her heart’s involved. she doesn’t want to be humiliated again. magda hasn’t spoken to her dad in person in almost a year. they had a phone call about seven months back but it turned out to be a butt dial and he hung up because he was in the middle of a conversation at some bar about the moon landing conspiracy. magda’s playlist that i have for her is called “a rodeo clown in a revolving door” which is basically the role otis serves in magda’s life. always in and out. never constant. gone more than he’s there, especially lately. idk if magda will ever get closure over that. she certainly hasn’t now. pouts my fuckable lips to the side w a hand on hip and triple f’s prominent.

#irvingtask002 #magda | muse #drugs tw #alcoholism tw #i said i was gna do hunter too but i simply just dnt have the energy i wont lie. so big bob n otis are all i have to present...... holds ban #omg. bang.#mayb i do more editions of this task for magda in future bc #i have hunter n shelly tht i wna write up....

18 notes · View notes