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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

i dunno if requests are still open but if they are, could i request this? if not, feel free to delete! but in case they are open here's the request: jean, beidou, and ganyu reacting to accidentally hurting their s/o? it could be anything from simple slap in the face while turning around or hurting them with their vision/weapon :]

Accidents

(ouchie -- having them accidentally hurt the reader T.T -- they didn’t mean too!)

Warning -> SFW, accidental injury (Character -> Reader)(face injury (Jean)), (meantions of cuts to face / arms (Ganyu)), (hit by rope (Beidou))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Beidou, Jean, Ganyu

Beidou

She takes pride in keeping everyone on her crew safe, no matter the danger - on sea or land, she will fight and guard each person in her charge -- you are no exception and in fact, you are probably the one she fights the hardest for. The thought of seeing you hurt doesn’t sit well with her and, if she can control it, she’d never let it happen

How could she have known that she’d be the one to cause you discomfort -- that she’d end up allowing you to get hurt because she let something slip through her fingers … pride was a strong emotion, but guilt could send a pirate to the bottom of the ocean

The weather had made a sudden turn for the worst. Dark clouds rolled overhead as the crew furled the sales to protect them from the downpour that was bound to arrive any second now.

“Captain!” Beidou’s attention shifted to the crow's nest, her scout pointing violently toward a massive cumulus cloud in the distance. She knew it was bound to smash right them if they maintained this heading, so in an effort to avoid it, she ran toward the bow barking orders.

“Tack to starboard! Finnick,” She turned to point at the several crew waiting on the foredeck, “raise the spinnaker, now.” They quickly bustled to their jobs while she found herself at the head of the boat. Her arms crossed as she oversaw the work of her crew; great pride swelling in her chest to see how organized they were even without her voice like a well-oiled machine everyone did their part.

As the creaking boat turned, heading parallel now to the storm, Beidou hoped that it would stay on its heading so the Crux wouldn’t have to bear the brunt of its onslaught. It was now a waiting game, but if she knew anything about the ocean - it would be a win for her today.

Just then, a rope tying one of the many large sails snapped. Its reaction was like a domino effect and soon all hands were rushing to stop a potentially catastrophic outcome. Leaping over the railing, she landed hard onto the deck below, her feet finding solid ground long enough for her to push forward and, before the other crew had a chance to react, she was already climbing the mainmast as if it were a simple tree. It took her no time at all to reach the issue but the strong winds continued to whip around the ropes below her and by the time she managed to capture them - her eyes fell onto your frame.

In terrible slow motion, she watched as you reached for the rope only to have it collide into your chest and knock you back into another crew member. Her heart sank, her arms burned, her determination steadfast as she made quick work of the problem before dropping back down to you.

“Are you alright?” Someone called, their hands reaching to you as if to offer some assistance but Beidou knocked them away. Orders were told, tasks were assigned, and before you could object, she carried you into her quarters.

When the door closed and she sat you on her bed, you could already tell how upset she was. “Beidou -- it was an accident, I didn’t have good footing and …” She uncrossed your arms, you didn’t even realize that you were holding onto your chest. Carefully peeling back your tunic, she noticed the welt that was starting to grow in the area below your collarbone. With a huff, she walked away before returning with a cloth. “You’re being silly, it’s not that ba-AD!” You shouted, the cold material shocking you as it came into contact with your burning injury.

“This could have been much worse. You’re lucky it only bruised the surface.” Sitting next to you, she rested her knee near your lower back, and the warmth of her leg as she moved close to you somehow offset the ice on your chest.

“I’m just upset I didn’t grab it, it was right there and then … ah - that’s sore.” She tested your shoulder, pushing against it with her palm and shaking her head at the notion that you were going to have a painful recovery.

“You are a member of this crew and I have sworn an oath to protect you, but …” Her head dropped and she found it hard to continue. 'How could I let this happen' was written all over her expression.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. You’re an excellent captain.”

“A captain keeps her ship on course, its belly full, and its crew happy. How can I do that when my happiness is your wellbeing?” Her fingers ran over your ear, slipping in between the locks of your hair as if to show you how much she cherished you. Carefully, she leaned toward you, her lips connecting softly onto your shoulder as they trailed a path to your injury and even in the numbness of it you were still able to feel the heat from her love. “If you are ever out of your depth, allow me to be your lifeline.”

“Of course, as long as you trust me to know when I'm there.”

“Within reason.” As the boat rocked on the sea and the sky rumbled far into the distance, you captured the steady heart of the captain.

Jean

Jean would never intentionally harm you, the thought of putting someone innocent in danger makes her sick - as the acting Grandmaster she has a sworn duty to protect everyone around her from those who would do them harm

So when she's the one who caused your injury, she's beside herself with regret

She stood in her office, her back to the door as she let her mind wander on all the things that needed to be done. It was never-ending, and while she was always fulfilled by the products of her work, she often pushed herself so far that her body and mind became clouded.

Today was one of those days. The work, planning, problem-solving was weighing on her. There is never enough time, she thought to herself as she rested her head in her hand and squeezed tighter around her rib cage. She was distracted, so exhausted that her ears felt blocked, her body swayed even though she knew she wasn't moving, and her head throbbed.

"Jean ..." What needed to be done first, she pinched her nose and through harder. "Jean?" She sighed and attempted to stop the voices in her head.

"Jean, hey?" A hand touched her arm and in her daze, she turned suddenly. Her hand was further from her face than she expected and with a solid smack, she hit something.

"Ah!" Your startled voice shook her back to understanding, your expression and hand now covering your face sent her heart in the pit of her stomach.

"Y/N? I'm so sorry ..." She rested her hand on your arm and shakily reached for your face, her fingers tenderly touching the ones that hid you from her pained eyes. "I didn't -- are you badly hurt?"

"Ouch, you got me really good." You explained, scrunching and circling your nose but allowing her to take your hand.

"My mind was elsewhere, I am ... I'm sorry." She ran her hands over your face, the warm feeling of wind slipping from her fingers and soon your expression eased.

"Thanks, It was an accident, don't worry."

"An accident like this should have never occurred, it is unbecoming of me to allow myself to falter." She stepped away from you, afraid that any prolonged contact would make it worse.

"Jean, you're allowed to make mistakes, and look - I'm fine, see." You grinned proudly but she couldn't let it go.

"I need to make amends."

"Mmm, well then, I have an idea."

"What is it?" She looked at you hopeful, her eyes watching you as you stepped closer.

"I'll take a kiss as an apology." You tapped the side of your cheek and presented it to her.

With hesitating hands, she rested her fingers on the other side of your cheek and let her lips touch the skin she hurt, "I will be more observant in the future."

You turned your head, your face so close you could feel her breath, "I don't see how that's possible, but if it means I get to have more of your attention, I'll be okay with that."

You kissed her and wondered if she was able to heal through her lips.

Ganyu

The absolute sweetest soul in all of Teyvat. She cares deeply for all things, works hard to get the job done, and is dedicated in her actions - it's one reason why her contract with Rex Lapis was drafted; she is the epitome of ____

She would never maliciously hurt those around her and often puts herself in harm's way to keep others safe

To her, causing harm to someone she adores, loves, cherishes would be as severe as breaking her contract

The two of you ran through the field, your legs burning as you dashed across the landscape and away from your persistent pursuers.

"Ganyu! Up ahead!" You shouted, pointing to the higher ground and dashing in that direction. She followed, keeping an eye out on the enemies behind. To buy some time, she laid down her tantalizing cryo flower before picking up her pace to reach you.

"From here we can handle them more easily, just be ready." She nodded her head and pulled back her bow, ready to strike.

The fight was far more doable in this arena, each enemy falling one after another as the two of you fought in perfect sync. Charging her shot, she saw the ideal opportunity to hit multiple targets at once, but as soon as her arrow flew so did you.

"Y/N!" She shouted but you were too far away and, as soon as you reached them, prepping your sword for a swing, the arrow exploded hitting everything in its path. You yelled, sliding on the ground only to slam hard into the dusty surface. In an instant, everything that Ganyu was, and wasn't, aiming for fell.

Rushing forward, she reached you and quickly assessed your condition. Her hands hovering, her eyes scanning only to find the damage she had caused. Several small cuts appeared on your face, your arms were equally damaged and the despair that filled her was so great she prostrated herself before you. Her head resting on your hips as she bowed deeply.

"Ga-Ganyu? What are you doing?" You asked, setting your sword to the side as you looked down at her.

"I hurt you, please forgive me." You tried to pull her up but she shook her head and dug in deeper into her display.

"It was an accident, I wasn't looking and that was a good shot. I'm not hurt."

"You are!" She shot up, her eyes looking at the marks that she had created on your skin. "It was my fault that you have -- if-if they leave a scar ... I ..." She shook her head, unable to finish her thought.

"Ganyu ... they won't leave a scar, and even if they did, don't you think I'd look super cool?" You smiled but she hated it.

"It's not acceptable ... if you'd like to d-dismantle our contract, I understa-"

You wrapped your arms around her, squeezing tightly as you spoke. "I don't want that, I'd never want that. I need you, please don't ever think I'd be okay if you weren't at my side." After a moment, she returned the gesture and you felt the pressure of her nose dig into your neck. When she finally pulled away, you let your hands slide down her arms and rest into her delicate hands.

"I'll just have to practice harder." She nodded fiercely as she helped you stand up.

"If you insist." You laughed, thinking to yourself when she would ever find the time to do that.

tag list:

@clemmywrites @sufzku @plenilunegazes @lucacandy @marianadibenea @nonniechan @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @excitedlysuffering

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #genshin impact ganyu #ganyu #ganyu x reader #jean #genshin jean #jean x reader #beidou #genshin beidou #beidou x reader

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captainkurosolaire · 3 years

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~ Mass Update ~

Mainly going into future plans and intents alongside ideas below cut.

Ton's of things I've in store this will prove difficult to vent it all out. But here we go... First off rehashing and appropriately learning to tag and organize things better on my blog. Each category will have their own corresponding content, I seek to bring or share. [Tales of Goldbrand] -- I intend this to carry a Compendium of all my writes soon that'll have everything neatly in-order including a glossary, so it'll have highlights of stories that even matter or the best stuff. I've written here for a very, long time, there's been many shifts. I want to make it more accessible. While coloring what matters for people who want to learn Captain or his Crew with less chapters. While also giving choice to find it all easily. This is essentially a step-above master-lists. I'll be doing that after the Saga I have going on, right now is done. [Captain] -- Will provide you strictly with Captain screenshots, gifs, photo-sets. This is still his blog despite the Crew thing's will sort of make this a scuffed Multi-Muse blog. I've few more things to edit and tag fix to get all his stuff though. [The Wild Crew] -- Afterwards this story is done Immortal Age Saga, It's something that I mainly wrote as a passion project within three days to get my warm-up process fixed. It's to allow me to get a feel for all his Crewmates and casts, in combat, in-general, to feel their presences. While also giving a bit of their backstories. At any point, I can go back and polish or tweak things in. They're NPC's but... not entirely. All will have their own 'Dreams' and their own 'Disapproval's' they have their own missions even. These things will factor eventually, they might set seeds, to betray or disagree with something, but that's all angst and more stories to be created, but overall, they'll probably always be Crew, eventually. -- I plan on making character-profile sheets of them and putting them in this Tab, it'll have their screenshots, their likes/dislikes. Some RP partners or people can also be shipped with them, but they'll all be monogamous and originally start off probably Pan. This allows them to figure out what they like on their own stories. I've always been someone who likes organic-flow. Although this one story contain all 16 characters or more, the rest will probably be shortened to a Squad of 4 and dispersed when on adventuring missions. Until I do a War Arc, that's my main goal to build too. [Roster] -- Will contain this Crew in just screen-sets dedicated to them, I'll probably randomly produce those. I've PC players among this Crew too. I may not be done either adding more, but this Crew is mainly built around Quality. Most pirate crew's mainly, have hundreds, thousands. Even Fleets. This Crew has personalities, monsters, people who are living life's that exist with piracy. He's an particular leader that had PC players the same way, he's had split-personality serial killers aboard, tribal chieftains, succubus, all sorts of various people once on a Crew. It's often an outcast style, pirates default are chaotic in nature, so this really isn't any different, it's a Fantasy version of it. There's humanization characters aboard too though, so this cast is really decked, everything and person is vital, they matter because they remind or covet something that others can draw upon. If ever played (Three Houses or Mass Effect / Dragon Age Origins) A lot of things like that are relatable too this structure and format. Which, Is something I want to be able to give when RPing. I want a genuine feel of this new world someone else's muse will be the main-character too. Depending on what's interacting everything they'll be scale appropriately to follow the genre they're in and environment even. [Aesthetics] -- Already explainable what you'll find here. [Asks] -- Same thing. [Prompts] -- Trivial things I was tagged too, I plan on compiling later. [Writing] -- Another alternatively to randomly go-down and it works right now. [Logs] -- Will have more individualistic master-lists and posts there, my poems from Sheik Sphere the Bard, etc.

Things of that nature, I'll probably add still. It's where a lot of my creative writing is summed. [Gems of Hydaelyn] -- My main #tag for other characters and artists, creationist. Lot of amazing people easily to find their zones or follow them optionally if you like. Ton's I intend to support and bolster, be a lot less unspoken. I'm never the type who's been strictly inclusive. But I'll do that when I've time to even explore the dash, I'm always still planning ahead with things and projects. [CKS] My original character-sheet it's outdated on something's but not too terrible. I'll give him polishing someday, I swear? [21+F-List] -- Just purely degenerate stuff of Captain. I'm a pirate blog. I will represent that with openness and furthermore. I'm never projecting you some false-image. I started off a smut-writer by stripping that, I no-longer represent the same aura and identity. But those are strictly his stuff and kinks, I'm effective in executing them but they're not all relatable to me OOC. This blog will always be 18+ containing crude or dark material sometimes, romantic things, this Captain is blunt, will literally put his cock on the table in conversations. Swearing and being censored would be too uncommon and displace most of him, but there's more about him then all this. [Other] -- I pay homage to a lot of characters, I originally am a Concept Designer. Which mean's I make characters and ideas like my addiction. Bad characters / villains or other little things I like to share in designs, I'll put there. Some villains might get little photo-sets, even if they died. Just cause I like their design, or maybe I'll give them an AU, where they won. When I've wrapped up things. [Collabs + Ships] -- Is a new project idea. This isn't going to be something limited too romantic only ships. It'll contain, platonic, romantic, friendships, rivals, frenemies, family, PC Crew, all ships. I am desperately working on improving my gif, screenshot, posing game so I can supply 'Screen Stories' this is not only a way to RP that's accessible with even people who are upon time-crunches from work, It gives visual-representation. To impactful stories shared with others and establish bonds. That are all-valid and impactful matter. Lot of people take a lot of their characters attributes into them and are them dialed up, I work with that and bit more, differently. I'm disconnected from my characters and they'll get hurt and injured and killed by me, that's my duty as their Author to give them conflicts and struggles. I'm their major antagonist, but that doesn't mean at-all, it's always SET that way. The characters I like to make have their own life, they live in this setting and are abide by it, they're often nothing, nobodies, and by the interacting with others, they slowly gradually building, more... Through emotional impacts, they alter, these are REAL people by all their beliefs. Each person they come in-contact with are legitimate and treated like that too. They've always impacted or given them insights to grow, or represent more. Otherwise it'd be criminally disrespectful if I allowed any emotional I felt OOC be the grudge to something IC. Captain in-particular is set on defying me. I cannot have that. ...But I can't stop him. He's met and encountered so many people and lived so many scenarios based on the actions of others, he's giving a chance right now to actually do things a lot further than impossible. The more people he meets and encounters, experiences, the more I lose. These stories are emotionally interactive where everything is a factor and adds to the dice, where the other people are the one who get to roll the dice for him, not me. That's something I want to color in. People range in emotions, they have their down's, ups, their own wholesome-grounding people, spending time with your favorite people, there's nothing more cherishing than that, being in your own comfort-zone or 'safe-space' these are all treasures that we live under, today. Contrary if what people assume of me, I'm not another 'blogger' that's came

before, who's wanting to force a harem, then constantly is bewildered when that falls to pieces cause of selfishness or a lack of communication, or the skeletons they have in their closets and beliefs they hid behind and swindled fooled everyone. I'm not looking to be popular or anything really, I just create stories and want to share in those, and I want to also boost others included, upward with me, especially those who make me. There's no ego in anything I do, this is purely love. I've never cared about being replicated or duplicated, I've had stalkers, I've gone through more then anyone would imagine, I've been used OOC and abused, just for my writing and cold-harshly told, i'd never amount to anything other then that or vice-versa. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion. That's all I got and am anymore. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion is the hardest thing to keep. It's something that can be stolen, quite effortlessly. Few words of discouragement, a bad negative representation, a lack of confidence, or small amount of time, there's many thing's that can put that flame out. Once you lose it. The difficulty to reattain is hundred-times harder than climbing any mountain for real. I've watched the greatest creators crumble from under the pressure, from beaten down by others. I watched many of them do it to themselves because they put a grand vision of needing validation of another and once lost, felt uncompelling to press onward. But passion also can be given BACK and drawn. It can be shown and encourage others, with a soft-triggering, that pushes them. That motivates, that constantly sticks to it. There are many that fuel me. If I ever quit, I let them down, I spit in the faces of people who're better than me in every-way. Or people who've came and given me their precious Time. That have given their character's or dedication to the abundant stories and community-driven things I've done. There's ONLY things you can do, create, give and provide. It cannot ever come to life without YOU. This is a fact. ...I swear, If you let your creativity soar, you'll be amazed by the heights you get. Constantly polish and learn and hone the best you, challenge yourself day after painstaking day, to draw better improvement on something, no matter how trivial or unfamiliar you are. You'll find a confidence only you can give yourself. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Future Plans --------------------------------------------------------------------- For me, I've got so much more stories to give and also explore, I might be taking up soon some other artists and more skilled people from community and hire them for some of my future writes, to up my game or cause something thing's can't be done in-game cause no background carries it. I also got a lot of-set up things and more angst stuff I want to practice, plus I'm adamantly on that grind to produce screen-sets with the intent's to some sort of improving daily. Additionally more people I'll be reaching out too soon for these collab's ideas and things. I look forward to shaking your hands, giving some hugs, show you my respect and admiration, then creating some enchanting stories and giving plots light. Feel free to reach out to me, I get scattered-brain but I'm working on getting better about it. Eventually will get to you though, my goals, if uninterested just say so when I poke, no bites, unless you kinky. Anyways, cheers hearties.

#ooc #update #future plans stuffz #ToG #Work on thinking of daily practice now

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tibalt-the-fineblooded · 5 years

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Tibalt’s Fanwalkers: Listed

In preparation for upcoming and eventual Fanwalker Fridays (or general asks and buffoonery), I am making this list of my Fanwalkers in order of creation. Short Descriptions will be followed by a longer Bio under a cut. Short and Sweet: 1. Ceral Redd (RBU) He/Him, Storm Mage Human from Kaldheim, has a pet kaladeshi dragon whelp named Raz 2.Laan Dovar (GR) He/Him, Geomancer/Size Manipulator Half-Kor/Half-Elf from Zendikar 3. Except (WGU) She/Her/They/Them, Healer Elf Simic Mimic from Ravnica with no memories of being from Ravnica, Old Walker 4. Y’lona (WB) She/Her, Cursed/Blessed Leonin from Theros 5. Zoya (R) She/Her, Blacksmith Vulshok from Mirrodin New Phyrexia 6. Atlan (WRU) He/Him, Jeskai Monk Djinn from Khans Tarkir 7. Sturn Dregg (BU) He/Him, ‘Skeleton’ Pirate ‘Pseudo Lich’ Death Mage Human from Ixalan 8. Samuel Dusken (WBU) He/Him, Elf Vampire Spirit Summoner from Innistrad, feeds on spirits not blood, Old Walker 9. Kitai Skalto (W) She/Her, Benalish Knight/Glass Mage Human from Dominaria 10. Aseri Kalot (WGR) She/Her, Saytr Beast Summoner from Theros, uses blood-ink tattoos to summon monsters whose blood is in the tattoos 11. Cas Anova (WR) He/Him, Reinforcement Magic/Pyromancer Cowboy Human from Unnamed Plane (wherever Angrath is from)

Bio’s under the cut (sorry mobile users)

Here’s the collection of bio’s for my fanwalkers. This will contain an overall what’s up and some base physical traits. I’ll try to keep it reasonable in length so that I don't clog up your dashes for too long!

1. Ceral Redd, 5′10, glowing purple eyes

Currently a resident of Kaladesh, Ceral has shifted from his previously violent ways to a more focused lifestyle. He spends much of his time traveling from plane to plane chasing legends and rumors, and studying weather patterns in hopes of getting strong enough to tame the storm that ravages his home. He wields the magics of what he hopes to calm, lightning and fire to ice and wind. Having spent several years on Kaladesh, and having worked within the Izzet League, Ceral picked up on how to work with artifice and uses his skills to improve the two red mana batteries he keeps on his person. Ceral has spent much of his time in recent months raising his dragon whelp Raz.

2. Laan Dovar, 6′2, light green eyes

Hoping to set an example, Laan helps those he comes across in his travels. He spends mush of his time traveling the more dangerous areas he finds, fond of high cliffs and deep valleys. While he's born of two cultures, he takes pride in both. His magic is just as mixed; with a skill in geomancy that allows him to control not only rock and earth, but also sand and even lava. His size manipulaton only allows him to change his own body in a range of passing for a giant to his own height, he can not shrink any smaller than that. While his Kor father has been dead for several years, Laan still returns to visit his Elf mother on Zendikar and catch her up on his travels.

3. Except, 5′4, brown eyes

A simple healer on the outskirts of a Leonin village, Except is anything but. Having spent over one hundred years on Theros as a six armed human with a Leonin tail, Satyr horns and the crest of a Merfolk, she is a respected member of their community. The villagers come to her for injures and illnesses that they cannot treat and the young enjoy playing with someone who can take any form they ask. She was once from Ravnica but lost any memories of that time when she first sparked, believing she is from Theros. Her shapeshifting abilites stem from her being a Simic Combine expirement to create a mimic from a non-mimic being. Except now uses her abilities to take on the hurts of her patients to learn how best to treat them. She only recently started planeswalking again when her adopted Leonin daughter Y'lona sparked.

4. Y’lona, 5′6, dark brown eyes

Only recently a planeswalker, Y'lona is still adjusting to all that there is to learn about it. She is also adjusting to the oddities that are her new planeswalking mentors; the long time patients of Except, her adoptive mother, Ceral Redd and Laan Dovar. The main task the three older walkers have agreed upon is that Y'lona needs to bring her newfound powers under some semblance of control. She had managed, in a state of terrror and confusion, to agree to the biddings of both an Innistradi Demon and Angel. One a curse to harm, the other a blessing to heal; Y'lona can't do one without doing the other. Neither contract was completed, which prevents her from choosing one and she will be stuck with both.

5. Zoya, 6′4, gold eyes

Having accepted her home of Mirrodin as a lost cause, Zoya has found some peace in focusing in her craft. A blacksmith by nature, she joined the Boros Legion after landing on Ravnica and is very happy to take any style of order. Due to this, she is very aware that others like her come from all over to get custom pieces and parts of weapons and armor made. Zoya has long since been able to tell who can and can't travel off of the plane, aware that even other members of the Legion aren't what they seem. She doesn't mind and has no plans to out any one of a shared secret. When she isnt doing work for orders, Zoya falls into old practices as a way of mourning for friends and family lost on her old home.

6. Atlan, 8′2, pale blue eyes

A follower of the Way and trapped in a time he never could have dreamed of, Atlan has to hold this secret close to protect himself. When he stepped into a different timeline, Atlan lost everyone he had ever known and his sorrow and confusion threw him even further to land on Kamigawa. Making his way back to Tarkir, he found that he was supposed to be missing and has been leading a double life ever since. His goal is to master ghostfire, but he knows he must first master the types of fire he's already learned. Atlan is also working on improving more than his physical and magical abilites, having taken up various games of wordplay, strategy and puzzles.

7. Sturn Dregg, 5′8, deep blue eyes

Stowaway turned sailor turned captain, Sturn has spent most of his life sailing the seas of Ixalan. His ship, the Hangman’s Orchard, and crew currently reside at the bottom of those seas while Sturn works on repaying the survivors of the Hours on Amonkhet. After sparking, he landed on the desert plane grievously injured and was saved from death. Once this debt is repaid, he planes on returning to Ixalan to raise the Orchard once more. Sturn is unsure of whether he wishes to travel the multitude of worlds available to him or if he will remain with his skeleton crew, haunting the seas of his home.

8. Samuel Dusken, 5′9, silver eyes

One of the last scions of the House Dusken on Innistrad, Samuel is also one of the planes last elves. After the ritual which turned the houses into vampires, Samuel took to researching a way to give his family an edge over all the others. Freedom from the need for blood while retaining the powers already gained. He took a self imposed exile until he successfully removed the thirst for blood, changed instead to a thirst for the essence of the lingering souls that haunted every corner of the multiverse. However, during his absence, Samuel's house had fallen from power in a war with House Maurer and scattered across the plane. He spends his time searching for a way to recreate his success with his now limited power and tracking down his scattered family.

9. Kitai Skalto, 5′10, green eyes

As both a Benalish Knight and a Glass Mage, Kitai has very little free time to pursue her interests across the multiverse. What time she does have is spent learning various fighting styles from friends she's made on previous trips from her home. Her magic allows her to create various things out of glas, from swords and shields to wings she can fly with. Kitai longs for adventure but is faithful to her duties, knowing that the only way to pursue her desires would be to embark upon a pilgrimage by herself. She wishes to prove herself before hand and thus returns to Benalia for her duties without fail.

10. Aseri Kalot, 4′11, brown eyes

Never in one place for too long, Aseri can always find somewhere to keep her entertained. She is spending her time traveling the multiverse to share the beauty of Nyx with any and all. Her unique style of summoning allows her to bring forth beasts that she has tattooed onto her own skin, with ink mixed with the beasts' blood. When summoned, these beasts take on the aspect of the Theros sky and resemble the Nyxborn of Aseri's home. Her favorite places to visit are Ixalan and Naya, and she has several tattoos from both. Despite her love of the starfield, Aseri doesn't visit her home very often.

11. Cas Anova, 6′, light brown eyes

A lone ranger kind of guy, Cas does what he can to try and make things better. He refuses to leave any place he's visited without solving a problem or two, even if it's only helping to repair a stable or going out to help deal with a few bandits. His pyromancy isnt the strongest but it allows him to fire small flames from his finger tips that explode on contact. Cas balances out his less than powerful offensive magic with reinforcement magics that can protect him from harm or make him slightly stronger. Having left behind his parents and younger siblings to help make the multiverse a slightly better place, Cas visits whenever he feels homesick.

Thank you for reading to the end! I’m hoping that my crew will entertain you in the future. My current goal is to get art for everyone and, hopefully, keep the list at 11. My asks are also open for more than Fanwalker Fridays and I’m always willing to answer questions!

#Fanwalkers #Ceral Redd #Laan Dovar #Except #Y'lona #Zoya #Atlan #Sturn Dregg #Samuel Dusken #Kitai Skalto #Aseri Kalot #Cas Anova #This is the second posting because this awful website ate the first version #tibalt the fire

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serialsemantics · 5 years

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"You think it's odd that I've grown to take care of him? That I'm parental?" Tony questioned, suddenly on the defense.

Steve scoffed, his hands behind his back as he tied the apron on. "Are you kidding me?"

Gen, 830 words, Iron Dad, Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff

I don’t normally post my writing here (or anywhere, really) but I like how this little fluff piece turned out so I figured I’d share it~ Read more for mobile users!

Are they done yet?" Peter asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

It was a beautiful summer day up at the Compound; nearly all of the Avengers were out on the lawn, sprawled across the grass or running through the sprinklers. The air smelled of sunscreen and grilling; the bright blue sky didn't have a cloud in sight.

Tony prodded the hamburger patties with the tongs-spatula combo. "Not yet." He turned to look at Peter, pointing the tongs towards his kid. "I need you to go grab the cucumbers and the chips from the kitchen. Pietro got distracted by Clint's Nerf game halfway through helping us bring the sides down and we should set them up soon."

Peter saluted, and Tony waved him off, turning back to the grill, jumping as he realized Steve had stepped over.

"Jeez, Steve, you trying to give me a heart attack?" He accused playfully.

"No, no," Steve said, but there was laughter coloring his tone. He reached for the spare rubber apron draped over one of the plastic chairs. "I came to relieve you of grill duties. Me and the boys are gonna be eating most of these anyway," Steve jutted his chin out over Tony's shoulder as he said "boys," and Tony turned to realize Peter was still standing there, eyes a-sparkle at being in the presence of Captain America. Tony rolled his eyes.

"I might as well be the one cooking most of them anyway," Steve continued. "Hi Peter," he wasn't able to dull the amusement in his voice. "How was school?"

"It was good!" Peter all but shouted. Tony could almost see the rainbows of happiness bursting from his form. "I'm really excited to spend the break up here, though!"

"I'm excited to train with you," Steve said, and Peter shifted from glowing to vibrating from excitement.

Before the boy could get started on an all-out rave, Tony took him by the shoulders and steered him round towards the Compound. "Chips and cucumbers. Go," he instructed before pushing him off, but not without dragging his fingers through Peter's unruly curls.

"Okay!" Peter dashed for the Compound, eager to complete his quest.

"The cucumbers are in the fridge!" Tony called as he turned back towards the grill. He halted halfway there, though, his head snapping back towards the Compound as he shouted, "Use the doors, Parker!"

"Too late!" Peter called as he scrambled through the open window to the kitchen.

Tony rolled his eyes as he returned to the grill. He poked at one patty before offering the tongs to Steve, only to realize Steve was staring at him with the dopiest smile he'd ever seen.

"You are so good with him, Tony," Steve said sincerely, and for some reason that set Tony off.

"You think it's odd that I've grown to take care of him? That I'm parental?" Tony questioned, suddenly on the defense.

Steve scoffed, his hands behind his back as he tied the apron on. "Are you kidding me?"

A raised eyebrow and slight wave of the spatula indicated he was not, in fact, kidding him.

Steve sighed. "Tony, you-" he paused, all 200 pounds of him looking apprehensive, even embarrassed. After a moment to plan out his words, he started again. "When I came out of the ice, you gave me a home. You could have sent me anywhere, let Fury relocate me somewhere or something. But you took me in. Natasha, too. Clint. The whole gang- even Thor had a room for when he stopped by!" Steve shook his head, smiling. "And that only continued with Wanda and the others. You might not have given us fatherly pats on the back or ruffled our hair, but you took care of us." Steve leveled his eyes with Tony's. "Parenthood is perfectly natural for you, Tony. I'm proud of you."

"Interesting," Tony hummed nonchalantly. Or rather, he was going for nonchalantly, but his voice came out choked up and tight with emotion. He who had only known a distant alcoholic father and a kindly but absent mother, who had latched on to the patient butler so tightly that he recreated the man in immortal 1s and 0s -- Tony Stark didn't have the best role models for parenthood. Even now, his emotional connections were rarely spoken aloud. But actions spoke louder than words, and even after everything, Tony cared a whole hell of a lot about his team, and now, his kid.

Tony cleared his throat. "Very nice of you to say." The statement came out as if run through a wood chipper, despite his practiced relaxed stance, one hand in his pocket and the other ardently clacking the tongs on his spatula.

Tony spoke his own language all his own, borne of young genius and even younger loneliness.

Luckily, Steve Rogers was fluent in Tony Stark.

Steve smiled, gentle hands prying the spatula from Tony's shaking hand. "I'll take over from here, Tony. You're letting the hamburgers burn."

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downstvged · 5 years

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s u r v e y : p e y t o n p e l l e g r i n o.

what’s this? there’s something paper clipped to the page... a stick of juicy fruit. how thoughtful.

basic information

FULL NAME: jamie claverton peyton pellegrino PRONUNCIATION: PAY-ton pell-eh-GREEN-oh MEANING: noble, royal REASONING: his kidnapper father said he always looked like a peyton. strong, wise, dignified. NICKNAME(S): pey, pellegrino, pillsbury ( monty ), sparkles ( tess ), etc. PREFERRED NAME(S): peyton BIRTH DATE: july 24, 2000 AGE: 18 ZODIAC: leo GENDER: cismale PRONOUNS: he/him ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heteroromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual NATIONALITY: american. ETHNICITY: italian-american. his father’s got pellegrino pride.

background

BIRTH PLACE: milton, delaware HOMETOWN: milton, delaware. his dad said he was born in ohio. everyone thinks he’s from cali, when they meet him. SOCIAL CLASS: upper-middle. FATHER: presley claverton. matthew pellegrino. fire chief. 52. west ham’s most eligible and charming single father. and peyton’s best friend. faceclaim. MOTHER: theresa claverton. francesca milluzzo. peyton never knew her. his dad said she deserted them shortly before his first birthday. SIBLING(S): none. BIRTH ORDER: first of three. the clavertons needed to fill the void. first and only. PET(S): none. but he adores anything fluffy. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: n/a PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: n/a. he’s always been too scared of his own shadow to ask a girl out. ARRESTS?: squeaky clean. PRISON TIME?: not unless you count double-shifts delivering pizzas.

occupation & income

SOURCE OF INCOME: works part-time as a pizza delivery boy at one of west ham’s most beloved pizza joints. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: very content, usually! people tip well and peyton enjoys the small talk. PAST JOB(S): assistant life guarding at the local pool in middle school, but that quickly ended after he had a panic attack on duty. SPENDING HABITS: peyton’s pretty frugal! his idea of a fun time is boarding around town with monty, or grabbing a scoop of ice cream at one of the local places. he’s not too big on driving, if he doesn’t have to. longboards almost everywhere. his dad’s job gets them ample cash, being fire chief, but they live modestly. pellegrino men are humble. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: his longboard. unfortunately, his anti-anxiety meds.

skills & abilities

TALENTS: deduction, longboarding, mock trial, stage lighting, studying, making people smile. he’s mario kart champion and he’ll never live that down. SHORTCOMINGS: overthinker. often, he limits himself just by thinking in circles. he... finds the good in people. assumes the best. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, and enough italian to get friendly with the kitchen staff. DRIVE?: yes. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes. RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes, but longboards are way better. SWIM?: yes. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: he has a guitar and plays it decently well. sometimes he’ll hum a little tune and strum a few chords, but it’s nothing too major. PLAY CHESS?: yeah. BRAID HAIR?: ha! him? able to braid hair? he wishes. TIE A TIE?: he can double-knot his shoes. PICK A LOCK?: no.

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: noah centineo. EYE COLOR: deep hazel, primarily chocolate with pools of mossy green. HAIR COLOR: dark brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: wavy/curly. it does what it wants, and he rarely styles it, unless it’s for a mock trial competition or a student gov event. reference. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: he has a glasses prescription but always wears his contacts. DOMINANT HAND: right. HEIGHT: 6′1. WEIGHT: 165 lbs. BUILD: lean, trim, athletic. EXERCISE HABITS: he’s co-captain of the lacrosse team with monty, so they have daily team workouts. he goes for runs a lot, and likes HIIT training. does longboarding count? it should. he’s boarded all over this town countless times ( it’s also how he chooses to deliver pizzas, when the weather’s alright. ) SKIN TONE: tanned, smooth. reference. TATTOOS: none. he can’t handle needles. PEIRCINGS: none. MARKS/SCARS: a few on his arms and legs from nasty longboarding falls. NOTABLE FEATURES: his wild hair. million-watt smile. USUAL EXPRESSION: peaceful, welcoming. CLOTHING STYLE: reference. leather bracelets, cuffed jeans, lots of solid colored and colorblocked tees. when he dresses up for mock trial, the girls kinda swoon. boy looks dashing in a suit. has a glasses prescription but always wears contacts. his dad says he looks sharper that way ( but it’s actually because, with glasses, he looks too similar to the claverton family. ) beat up chuck taylors, kind of untied on purpose. he’s got that whole loosely kept together, sleep deprived look down pat. JEWELRY: leather bracelets. sometimes he’ll wear a thin chain. ALLERGIES: n/a. BODY TEMPERATURE: the standard. he runs a little warmer than most. DIET: lots of pizza. mountain dew. juicy fruit gum’s basically a whole other food group. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: n/a. he can be a bit jumpy, sometimes, if he’s feeling on edge. his left pinky kind of clicks funny when he makes a fist, from when he broke his hand his freshman year.

psychology

MORAL ALIGNMENT: lawful good. TEMPERAMENT: phlegmatic. ELEMENT: earth. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: anxiety disorder. SOCIABILITY: very approachable. warm. kindhearted. there’s a reason he’s the one tasked with getting class dues, as class treasurer. there’s a reason why he leads the lacrosse team. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: typically very levelheaded. his anxiety can make that fluctuate, though. PHOBIA(S): having another panic attack in public. he hasn’t had one in front of anyone besides monty in a year. ADDICTION(S): does juicy fruit qualify? DRUG USE: none. very straight-edge. ALCOHOL USE: occasional, as much as you’d expect. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: not at all.

mannerisms

QUIRKS: peyton shoves his hands into his pockets when he’s nervous. he always looks for monty or tess in a crowded room, to get grounded. whenever he wears a flannel or a sweatshirt, he always pushes the sleeves up midway to his elbows. HOBBIES: lacrosse, longboarding, mock trial, reading, parkour ( a phase in freshman year ). watching football games with his dad. trying out weird recipes. HABITS: biting the edge of pens. turning his head to the side when he’s listening. offering people pieces of his lunch until he realizes there’s nothing left for him. NERVOUS TICKS: not knowing what to do with his hands. trailing off. looking at the ground. laughing. counting his own fingers. biting the tip of his tongue. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: he genuinely wants to see people happy. he wants everything to run smoothly and willingly along. FEARS: his meds will stop working. he’ll have a panic attack in front of his classmates, who are supposed to see him as calm, collected, put together. he’ll never get to know more about his mom. it bugs him. POSITIVE TRAITS: benevolent, bona fide, conscientious, suave, tenderhearted. NEGATIVE TRAITS: anxious, critical, restless, self-limiting, yielding. SENSE OF HUMOR: puns. wit. a lot of inside jokes with tess and monty. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: not really! he’s more likely to say frick or flipping than anything bad. CATCHPHRASE(S): “ oh shit ! ” & “ dude ! ” & “ what’s good ? ”

favorites

ACTIVITY: longboarding, hands down. ANIMAL: he’s got a super soft spot for rabbits. BEVERAGE: mountain dew or 7-up. BOOK: growing up, he loved the percy jackson series. CELEBRITY: stephen hawking. COLOR: green. DESIGNER: designer? he guesses, like... is gucci the right answer? he’s not really plugged in to that. FOOD: does juicy fruit count? FLOWER: he’s learning more about flowers, but he thinks sunflowers are pretty nice. kelly’s teaching him more about those. GEM: tiger’s eye. HOLIDAY: christmas. that’s when the famous pellegrino slutty brownies surface. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: longboarding !! MOVIE: original star trek. MUSICAL ARTIST: saint motel. QUOTE/SAYING: “ we’re dead ! we survived but we’re dead ! ” – dash, the incredibles. SCENERY: rolling hills. sunset. SCENT: cinnamon. SPORT: lacrosse. SPORTS TEAM: in connecticut, he’s surprised he hasn’t been vilified for being a chicago bears fan. but he and his dad spent some time there, and going to those games became a weekly tradition. they watch them now, and it’s like a little piece of their story. TELEVISION SHOW: saturday night live, honestly. WEATHER: that golden-hour sunshine, just before sunset. lukewarm. mid-60′s. VACATION DESTINATION: hawaii. he’s always wanted to longboard down those colossal volcano-side roads.

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: go into tech/lighting design for broadway. ask cassandra pressman out, for real. GREATEST FEAR: his dad won’t be able to function without him in west ham next fall. he’ll panic in front of people when he needs to seem strong. MOST AT EASE WHEN: he’s with his squad, the belugas. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: he’s allowed the time to overthink. when his dad doesn’t come home from his fire shift on time. when things don’t feel right. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: the west ham mock trial team won the state championship this spring. BIGGEST REGRET: he never pressured his dad more about finding his mother. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: he had a panic attack in the middle of his treasurer speech freshman year. someone pulled the fire alarm right as he couldn’t breathe. to this day, peyton has no idea who that was, but he’s so friggin’ thankful. BIGGEST SECRET: his biggest secret’s not even known to him yet. matthew pellegrino isn’t his father; he’s his kidnapper. peyton pellegrino’s fake. doesn’t exist. TOP PRIORITIES: having monty and tess’s backs. taking care of his dad, since he’s still reeling from peyton’s mom leaving almost 17 years ago. bringing the lacrosse team to the state championships. making sure every single thing he does for west ham high’s theatre department is flawless: making art on that stage. finding out how to... conquer this anxiety. finding out how to muster up enough courage to make a move before it’s too late.

#newhamhq: task #🍂 –– shallow graves for shallow hearts ! isms.#🍂 –– there's no place like home ! psyche.#yoooo..... cackle at that header image bc i'm still laughing

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uss-edsall · 6 years

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favorite maritime anecdotes?

Here’s fifteen

1. “Somewhere during this period, I came across another small, telling anecdote that reveals more about the spirit of the destroyer’s crew. After the bombing in the Flores Sea, Houston lost not only her number three turret, cold storage locker, and crew’s head as well as three searchlights and two motor launches; her laundry was also destroyed. At that point the men of Edsall volunteered to provide laundry service for the cruiser. Bob Fulton told me that the last time he saw Edsall was when his clothes were being lowered over the port side of Houston’s quarterdeck to the destroyer. As he put it, “I don’t know where that brave ship is today, but wherever she is, my clothes are still aboard.””

–A Blue Sea of Blood: Deciphering the Mysterious Fate of the USS Edsall, by Donald M. Kehn

4. “On one of those raids the steering wheel [of USS Salt Lake City CA-25], loosened by the jar of the firing, fell off. The helmsman held it up in his two hands. And he turned to the captain with deference. “Sir,” he said, “what do I do with this now?” “Switch steering to auxiliary steering aft,” ordered the sweating Captain. The crew fell into a certain nonchalance about combat. At Saipan the officer of the deck accepted a line from a tanker and started fueling while an air attack was going on at an island two miles away. During one bombardment some genius of the commissary discovered caviar left over from a gala in San Francisco a year before. Officers off duty munched it in the wardroom while the guns roared. Off Okinawa, Poncho Miller, the boss of the lookouts, reported calmly, “Jap Betty (a bombing plane) is directly overhead.” “Signal it to keep going,” was the reply. “

5. From Enterprise, by Barrett Tillman (the practice was for escorting destroyers to rescue shot down pilots, and they’d bring them back to the carrier in exchange for five gallons of ice-cream, for carriers had icecream makers, but for the most part destroyers did not,)

6. “An ensign who graduated from the Naval Academy during Hart’s tenure as superintendent was considerably unnerved when he heard that Hart was the admiral who was coming to inspect his ship. When Hart came into the bridge, he seemed just as formidable as ever and, to test the alertness of the engine-room crew, he walked over to the voice tube and shouted into it: “If eggs are five cents apiece, how much would a dozen cost?” To the horror of the ensign, the reply came back: “Shut up, you dumb son of a bitch, don’t you know we’re being inspected?” Hart showed just a twitch at the corners of his mouth. “They are alert,” he announced.”

— A Different Kind Of Victory: A Biography of Admiral Thomas C. Hart, by James Leutze

7. “Lt. (j.g.) John J. A. “Jack” Michel of Pope had grabbed the final boat back to his destroyer after getting his “fill” of San Miguel beer at the Army-Navy Club. He expected, with no pleasure, that his ship would again be conducting minefield patrols again the following week. Weather conditions on Manila Bay that night were typical according to Michel: “sticky [and] breathless.” He eventually fell asleep in his sweltering miniature stateroom, in spite of its dysfunctional ventilator and location next to the forward fire room. In the middle of that momentous night—and no doubt still damp with beery perspiration—he was awakened from his slumbers to be told, “I don’t suppose you’re particularly interested right now, but Pearl Harbor was bombed and we’re at war with Japan.” Michel could only mumble, “The bastards,” before going right back to sleep.”

— In The Highest Degree Tragic: The Sacrifice of the U.S. Asiatic Fleet during World War II, by Donald M. Kehn

8. From Signals from the Falklands, by John Winton

9. “Lieutenant Pat McEntee in the Atlanta witnessed it: a Wildcat closing fast on a Betty from behind. The fighter was evidently out of ammunition, for its driver resorted to an unusual tactic. Down came his landing gear. Down went his airspeed. It looked to McEntee as if he was trying “to set his ship down on the bomber’s broad back. And he did—again and again, and again, with sledgehammer impact. He literally was pounding the enemy into the sea with his wheels.” The bomber pilot had no escape. If he tried to pull up, it only increased the force of the impacts. Any evasive turn was easily matched by the agile fighter. “The only course open led down. But before the Jap could make a decision, something snapped under the pounding and the bomber plunged beneath the waves of Savo Sound.”

- James D. Hornfischer, Neptune’s Inferno: The U.S. Navy at Guadalcanal

10. “The first time the South Dakota’s main battery was tested with a full nine-gun broadside, the wave of blast pressure pushed through the passageway where Captain Thomas Gatch was standing, tearing his pants right off him. The vast power of the sixteen-inch guns required a perfect physical apparatus to ensure not only their working order but also the safety of the ship.”

-Neptune’s Inferno: The U.S. Navy at Guadalcanal, by James D. Hornfischer

11. “Electrician’s Mate John J. Kellejian’s battle station on the flag bridge often put him beside the task force commander. During a general quarters emergency drill there was little to do in flag country, prompting Halsey to ask Kellejian if he played cribbage. The youngster had never heard of it so the admiral exclaimed, “Don’t worry about it, son. I’ll teach you.” After a tutorial, Halsey declared the electrician ready to play, the stakes being a nickel a round. “I lost my ass,” Kellejian said, losing more than fifty games, but since sailors never had much money, the admiral seemed to forget the debt. Following Halsey’s death in 1959, Kellejian—long out of the Navy—received a summons from the admiral’s estate, demanding payment of a debt of $ 2.80. Kellejian phoned Halsey’s sister, who explained that Wild Bill had carried the amount as a joke to share with friends. The debt was forgiven, but John Kellejian kept the summons as a souvenir of his costly lessons at the knee of Admiral William F. Halsey.“–Enterprise, by Barrett Tillman

12. "Early that morning, the convoy came under attack from the USS Sturgeon, a submarine which fired a salvo of torpedoes and was rewarded with some satisfying explosions. These prompted the facetious signal “Sturgeon no longer virgin.” As no Japanese ship was actually penetrated, this claim was premature. So was the ejaculation of large numbers of torpedoes that night by the four old but dashing destroyers of Rear Admiral William A. Glassford’s Task Force 5, US Asiatic fleet, alerted by air reconnaissance from Java.”

–The Pacific Campaign, by Dan van der Vat

13. “USS Overton (DD-239), with two boilers inoperative, was sent to meet the speedy Queen Elizabeth 500 miles at sea, and escort her to port. Running her best speed in a full gale, she shifted fuel to the port tanks to counterbalance the force of the wind. Waves smashed the splinter shield of her bow gun, leaked through the forecastle deck, caused a six-foot crack in the main deck, carried away the bridge windshield, and washed two depth charges out of the racks, but the destroyer kept up the pace. When she finally hove to in the lee of the land, her unbalanced fuel tanks caused her to take a 33 degree list to port. But in the words of her skipper’s official report, ‘Other than this superficial damage, the ship had weathered the trip very well.’” – Flush Decks & Four Pipes, by Cdr. John D. Alden

14. “On 18 September, 1942, USS Barney (DD-149), while escorting a convoy from Trinidad to Guantanamo, rammed USS Greer (DD-145)’s stern. This dislodged depth charges that went off under Barney’s keel, forcing both to creep home to Charleston for repairs. After this, Greer seems to have made a career out of collisions, for she rammed and sank USS Moonstone off the Atlantic Coast, and on 30 November, while seeking to avoid a tanker, she was rammed amidships by USS Rapidan.”

–Flush Decks & Four Pipes, by John D. Alden Cdr US Navy (Ret.)

15. From HMS Rodney, by Ian Ballantyne

#Anonymous

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allaboutwannaone-blog · 6 years

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friends to lovers!guanlin

genre: fluff word count: 2.2k author’s note: ok i have decided that i’m super bad with summaries so i omitted it hAH :-) send me requests!! :))

• it’s that time of the year again…*dramatic sigh*

• yes,, it is one week before school starts!! honestly,, you’re kind of really daunted by the upcoming year because you finally were becoming a senior

• you can’t actually believe that YOU, someone who still cuddles with soft toys at night and cries like a baby will be graduating soon like hell nah i’m not ready to step out of my comfort zone, not ready for everyone to judge my ugly ass, not ready to be single yet again (not that being single is wrong!! but you just feel kinda like a loser when everyone around you is already dating 🙁)

• in order to make you feel better about yourself, you decided to go to the mall to get some clothes because,, impulsive splurging is your passion (even though you end up regretting it to the max after that) and bless the lord you need some new colours in your wardrobe because every single thing in your wardrobe is black

• you casually stroll to the men’s section because you just like oversized shirts a lot,, they make you feel bigger and more confident and looks good too so why not!! and the staff don’t actually give a shit about who goes where in their store so nobody would judge you either famous last words

• just as you were reaching for this super cute red shirt that just calls for you, another hand came into your vision and took that last one off the rack

• startled, you spun around to see who the culprit was and got even more surprised because

• a) holy feck this guy is cute (and by cute i mean the handsomest person you’ve ever seen)

• b) holy feck this guy’s aura and face is colder than eating ice cream in the middle of the winter

• and you just kind of slither away in fear all while keeping your eyes on him like a snake because you ARE a snake since you eat snacks at night even though you promised your diet app not to

• but that was the last of him you saw for the rest of the break (certainly not the last you thought of him tho!!)

• fast forward to the first day of school,, and you’ve guessed it!

• by some miraculous turn of fate, you spot a slightly familiar yet unfamiliar face standing right in front of the classroom beside your homeroom teacher

• it was him

• and boi, he looked finer than a strand of hair wearing the red shirt he picked that day

• after your teacher’s explanation, it turns out he was a transfer student from taiwan (oH NO NOT AGAIN *cues groans*) and his name was lai guanlin

• he instantly became a favourite amongst your classmates,, a chorus of small yet audible sighs from the girls could be heard, and the guys were practically bouncing out of their seats to greet him

• after his introduction (that highlighted his super cute accent), he went to his assigned seat, which was conveniently situated behind you. you had no idea whether he actually recognised you or not,, so you gave him a small, hesitant smile but all he did was to just stare blankly at you so hAh prObabLy nOt

• days passed and he settled in pretty well,, he now was friends with this big group of boys (including him, there are eleven, you believe) who called themselves wanna one and literally have females and males alike practically salivating at the sight of them, so naturally your hopes of getting closer to him were dashed because you weren’t part of that social circle (besides being friends with daehwi in the student council)

• that was also why you’ve decided to throw the thoughts about him to the back of your mind and busied yourself with the upcoming council president selection

• you actually didn’t want to join it at first, but with the encouragement of your peers, you decided to just wing it and yolo for your last year in high school

• but that was also how you found yourself in a battle of nerves with one of the most popular girls in your school, chaewon (ok pls just insert any name here ur enemy’s your pet’s i just randomly chose one)

• chaewon wasn’t really the baddest bitch around, though she can be a little arrogant and quip sarcastic remarks once in a while,, you don’t dislike her, but you don’t like her either

• but for some reason, her looks and athletic abilities (which you, for jisoo’s sake had none) have guys and girls alike, just like wanna one, falling at her feet

• it wasn’t like she was a complete airhead either, she got decent grades, is punctual in handing up her homework too,, which makes her a really strong candidate up against you

• the elections came and went, you gave your speech and she gave hers, and unfortunately, but not unpredictably, she won and got to parade around with a makeshift sash the whole day

• you were…undeniably a little sad because hey you really did put in effort to memorise the script and think about how to improve the school (you spent sleepless nights thinking about that okay) and not freak out while talking in front of so many people but you didn’t get it in the end

• but you didn’t want to sound like a sore loser either so you just kept it to yourself,,

• hOWEveR

• just as you were about to congratulate her,,, she, in all her winning glory, went

• “honestly, you didn’t stand a chance against me but i just went along with it because it made me feel superior. but good game, you tried your best, but hey, it wasn’t enough!”

• to say that you were crushed was an understatement

• you…had no idea how to react that, so you just stood there and froze for a while

• but suddenly, a terse voice that sounded dangerously close to you rang out

• “to be honest, we all know you pulled some strings to win because evidently y/n has a way better personality than you.”

• you spun around (deja vu, anyone?) and lo and behold, you see this tall silhouette basked in light and hOLY MAMA that is ,,, LAI. GUAN. LIN.

• ?1!?1!?1!??1!?1??1 <— your heart and mind at that moment

• “i hope you won’t let this ‘win’ get to your head,, because i and my friends won’t hesitate to get an appeal for her to take your position if you were to act up like this again, so do us all a favour and get out.”

• ?1!1!1?1??1?1!1!1!!1!1!1!?1?1?1?!1!1!1!!1!1!!1!1!1!1!!1!1!1!!1!1 <— your heart, beating at a 100 miles per hour as you see him turn around and go back to his friends, not without him giving you a gentle smile (you were certain your face was red now yOu’vE beComE a tOmaTo)

• you didn’t see it but his ears had turned red from shyness aw what a cute baby (but only towards you tho 😉)

• it was after that day,, you guys just- suddenly clicked

• he gave you a nod the next day when he walked past you to get to his seat

• and when you turned back to thank him, a full blown smile spread across his face (tHAT SMILE,, YOU KNOW THAT SMILE WITH HIS TEETH AND GUMS) and you felt like ‘shit, i’m getting sucked into this black hole but for some reason i don’t want to come out’

• you don’t notice it but his friends sitting behind him are wiggling their eyebrows and gossiping (mmo, ring a bell??) about how cute of a couple you two would make but none of you caught it since you were busy staring at each other,, sharing a moment

• small talks became real conversations, what originally was mundane became full of laughter and funny stories he told you about his friends (he tells you deep dark secrets about them like how once daehwi was rocking out to ariana grande in the shower and slipped and fell)

• you told him about your friends as well and how they thought he was the most good looking person they’ve ever seen,, and he just tells you to tell them that he’s not interested

• you kind of want to probe further but you didn’t want it to be awkward either so you just settled for an questioning look you hope conveyed your message but he just gave you an ambiguous smile,,, which kind of made your heart sink a little because…of course he has a crush, he could literally have anyone he wanted why would he even bother about you

• so you just,,, kept your feelings under the radar for the moment

• but anyone, everyone could see you were heads over heels for him

• and that he was heads over heels for you too!!!! he had never shown any interest in any girl except for you

• he dismissed any confession letters that came his way, got rid of girls who would stick to him with the very cold look that scared you in the first place

• he never had much interaction with girls

• heck, he never even smiled that much with guys besides his friends

• but you two,, clouded with the delusion that your crush would never like you back, continued being friends close to lovers

• until the day before the basketball finals

• yes, guanlin was part of the basketball team, and was the co-captain in fact, which is a really amazing feat considering he just entered your school a few months ago

• you were staying back in school to help settle some stuff with the council since you were still a rank higher up than the rest,, you needed to get everything right for tomorrow’s big game, make sure the ushers know their duty, the students knew where to sit, the court was decorated and at its cleanest state

• and guanlin was practising to get his shots right for tomorrow because he didn’t want to let anyone down,, and most importantly, he didn’t want to look like a loser in front of you!! after two hours of training, the coach let the players go for a thirty minute break before going back to shoot some hoops again

• wandering around the school, he saw the door of a conference room slightly ajar, and heard your melodious voice flowing from it

• peeping in, he saw you standing in front of the board, laying out the plans for tomorrow and observing how you carried yourself, your confidence, your beauty and he came to the conclusion that yo,, it was,, now or never

• clutching the extra jersey he had in his hands tightly, he opened the door, apologised for the interruption and beckoned for you to come out

• you were escorted outside with the sound of wolf-whistles and clapping but you paid no heed to them, only looking at the seemingly flustered boy standing in front of you

• guanlin: “hi?”

• you: “hey!”

• him: “okay so tomorrow is the championship right? you’ll be there right?”

• you: “yes, why do you ask?”

• him, throwing the dry-fit shirt to you: “it’syoursnowpleasewearthistomorrowand…”

• you, barely catching it and not making sense of the situation at all: “and?”

• him: “if i score the winning goal, will you date me?”

• everything went still for a second

• you looked down at the jersey that had his name proudly printed on it and supposedly belonged to you forever now, and looked up at his expectant and nervous face bewilderedly

• you: “wait, can you repeat that again?”

* him, mildly exasperated that you were taking so long to give him an answer: “date me if i score the winning goal tomorrow.”

• honestly the stunned look on your face makes him want to just pinch your cheeks and kiss you but he’ll resist for the sake of the fact that you might not reciprocate his feelings

• but when you replied him with “okay, deal.”, he couldn’t help but just give you the biggest and loveliest hug you’ve ever experienced

• it was like,, you belonged there

• in that warm cocoon of heat and love

• and guess what??

• the next day came and everyone, and i mEAN EVER Y ON E was looking at you striding into the venue with his jersey and the wanna one members were just like MY BABY HAS FINALLY GROWN BALLS I AM SO PROUD OF HIM *wipes tears from eyes*

• you cheered and screamed so loudly for him you swear they could probably hear you from australia and when it came down to the last seconds, where the other team was just leading by two points,, guanlin caught the ball and dribbled it towards the other side of the court

• those seconds felt like ages and just when he was about to make the three-pointer,, he looked at you with that smile on his face

• …and sCORED!!1!1!1!1!1!!1!!1!!!!!!!!

• you jumped out of your seat and hi-fived your friends around you, celebrating their victory until you see them suddenly freezing, looking behind you

• you turned around (again, deja vu???) and saw him, guanlin, with the brightest smile that seriously could light up the universe if he tried

• “so, date me?”

#wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines #wanna one fanfics #yoon jisung #ha sungwoon #hwang minhyun #ong seongwu #kang daniel #kim jaehwan #park jihoon #park woojin #bae jinyoung #lee daehwi #lai guanlin #kpop #wanna one edits #kpop edits

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enterinit · 4 years

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New Xbox One Games for December 10 to 13

New Xbox One Games for December 10 to 13.

Fishing: Barents Sea – Complete Edition (December 10)

Experience life as a fishboat captain, starting out with a small boat inherited from your grandfather, earn money doing fishing with longline, net or trawl, buy upgrades, bigger and better fishing boats like trawlers and a lot more. Make your grandfather proud!

Eternum Ex (December 10)

A retro platformer with the look and feel of classic ’80s arcade cabinet games. With simple core gameplay mechanics, an increasing difficulty, and exciting gameplay, and with a very precise control, Eternum Ex is great for retro hardcore gamers and for those who want to get a start in retro games.

Terminator: Resistance (December 10)

There is no fate but what YOU make. Experience the events leading up to the decisive final battle for the fate of mankind in the war against the machines. Terminator: Resistance, is a first-person shooter set during the 'Future War' scenario that was only glimpsed at in the iconic films, 'THE TERMINATOR' and 'T2: JUDGMENT DAY'. The machines are destined to lose, but at what cost? Run and gun or sneak and hack through Skynet’s defences! Level up your skills and explore a post-apocalyptic world for scraps to trade and craft! Interact with a motley group of survivors and change their fates! Features: Focused, Single-player, First-Person Shooter ExperienceUse Skill points to develop your character from a nameless soldier and into your ideal action heroGather and trade resources with other survivorsFace off again iconic enemies from the films including HK’s and Infiltrators

Avicii Invector (December 10)

Belt up and blast into the rhythmic regions of unexplored space in AVICII Invector. Created in collaboration with the late superstar DJ, AVICII Invector is a pulse-pounding, frenetic rhythm-action experience. Soar through vocal melodies, sweep each fade and attack every beat in 25 of AVICII’s biggest hits, including global chart toppers: Without You, Wake Me Up and Lay Me Down. Fly solo or recreate the party feeling of an AVICII concert with heart-thumping, competitive gameplay. Each track is built to perfectly match the on-screen visuals taking you through a musical odyssey of serene exploration. Find your rhythm, feel the beat and keep the musical journey flowing. https://youtu.be/u1xrJdUF2qI

Jurassic World Evolution: Return to Jurassic Park (December 10)

Following the events of the iconic 1993 film, you’re invited to return to the island where it all started. Reclaim the park from the dinosaurs,rebuild beloved locations, and overcome new challenges guided by Dr. Alan Grant, Dr. Ellie Sattler, and Dr. Ian Malcolm in an original narrative voiced by the film cast.

Rift Keeper (December 10)

Embark on your journey, travel through rifts and restore the balance as the Rift Keeper in this handcrafted 2D roguelite platformer with challenging, fast-paced action gameplay. Duty called and the Rift Keeper woke up from his deep slumber. The little town he was summoned was silent as if it's the end. He opened the church's rusty old door and four old men wearing red robes greeted him with a grim smile. One of the priests stepped forward and said, "The Gates are open". Features: Embark on your journey, travel through 30 different dungeons! Grow powerful as enemies keep getting harder. How far can you go?Loot epic gear as you progress through the dungeons. Find new weapons and accessories, grow your power!Unique enemies to fight with and many more to come!30 handcrafted dungeons!

Metaloid: Origin (December 11)

A fast-paced, run ‘n’ gun 2D platformer. Take on the role of one out of three android warriors and dash through nine different levels in order to save their planet from a robot army led by Lucian Corp, whom invade their planet and exploit the planetary resources to fuel their galactic war efforts.

Stone (December, 2020)

G’day, I’m Stone. Here’s our Xbox page. Play this single-player third-person movie length interactive story and see what happened. Yeah it was rough, but a good life lesson. Enjoy, and remember don’t do this at home ya bunch of crazy animals. By the way this story really isn’t going to be for everyone. So enter at your own risk, mate. Plus this was created by a global team including the narrative designer of QUANTUM BREAK, CONTROL and VFX artist from GRAVITY, PROMETHEUS & more. You're in good hands, mate. FLAMING FEATURES: 3rd person so you can rotate a drone cam around me and move me like VoodooDeep, reference heavy interactive story never told, mate.Drinking, dancing and smoking for your pleasure.Map based free roam so you can explore the world at your own pace. Here’s some tips:Echo for great techno, Smoky Possum for some liquid gold and my flat. It’s comfy mates.A cast of my mates. Like Les, weirdo and kanye lover and my gorgeous chookie Alex.BTW if you see Cockie, tell her I’m sorry again. If you see Devil, run, run, run!Amazing licensed tracks from sick up and coming indie musicians at the Record Shop.Like Ryan Little, Luchii, Ilkka S, Warchief, James Tottakai & MoreSeriously the music is great. There’s hip hop, trap, stoner rock and heavy techno!Also THERE”S CLASSIC MOVIES!!! Yeah you can watch film classics likeSentimental Bloke, Night of the Living Dead & Story of the Kelly Gang ( CONVICT REPRESENT )Hang out with me.It’ll be bonza and hell, I think you’ll be a better person from it too. Your mate, Stone Features: Interactive StoryLicensed SoundtrackClassic CinemaStoner Noir

Headliner: NoviNews (December 11)

WHAT IF YOU CONTROLLED THE NEWS? A stack of news article sits on your desk, two stampers on each side - green to approve, red to reject. Your reporting team is hacking away in the background as corporate music plays through the loudspeaker. It's time to make decisions. Will you endorse nationalized healthcare, even though your love interest is worried about increased wait times? Will you demonize the new synthetic alcoholic drink, even though your boss stressed they are an important investor? Will you support current government, as tensions grow between the neighboring country? After work, you emerge on the streets of Novistan, shaped by the very news you publish. Perhaps you will see more graffiti, angry bums or even a riot? Or perhaps you will turn the nation into peaceful utopia, filled with cameras and drones watching your every step? How will your channel address tragic events about to happen? Will you agree to meet the clandestine group of truthtellers, or stop to watch the Prime Minister's speech? On the way home you meet with three main characters: Evie, your co-worker and immigrant, worried about her health and growing xenophobic sentiment; your brother Justin, an aspiring comedian struggling with impostor syndrome and social anxiety; finally Rudy, a single father trying to provide for his little girl and keep his store afloat, while a mega-mart opens up next door. Each day provides a glimpse into their life and how the media shapes their beliefs. But every Headliner deserves to relax at home from the stress of the job. Listen to the radio and unwind on the comfy couch bought with hard-earned cash, as you watch the city burn outside the window. Perhaps splurge on treats to feed your doggo? Adopt a drone? Have your brother over for dinner? Or maybe keep your doors locked, hoarding every penny, as your apartment slowly fills with piles of cash? After good night's sleep, it's time to once again face to boss, new articles, a growing sense of responsibility, and.... power.

Ultimate Racing 2D (December 11)

Ultimate Racing 2D is the ultimate top-down racing game, with 35 racing classes, over 45 visual stunning tracks, multiple career modes, championship mode and offline multiplayer mode. Make your way from Karts to Formula Racing in the extensive career mode, play local multiplayer with up to 8 players or create your own custom championship. Race on 45+ international tracks from all continents. Besides Road Courses the game contains Ovals, Dirt Ovals, Historic Tracks, Karting Circuits, and Ice Speedway Tracks. Choose from a variety of racing disciplines like Open-Wheel, Oval Racing, Dirt Racing, Historic Racing, Touring Cars and Sports Car Racing. Drive your favorite vehicles, from Formula Cars to Motorbikes, Trucks, Supercars, Stock Cars, Tractors, Quads, Karts, Forklift Trucks, GT Cars, Speedway Bikes and many more. Experience thrilling top down racing in one of the best-looking 2D racing games. Features: 35 racing classes300+ different cars45+ tracksLocal multiplayer up to 8 playersCareer mode, Championship mode and Quick Race modeUp to 20 cars on trackCustomize teamsPit stop, qualifying and boost optionsRealistic car physics and sound effectsFun gameplay with exciting AI fightsVisual stunning 2D graphicsWeather effectsSpectator mode

SuperEpic: The Entertainment War (December 12)

Join a racoon and a llama in their quest to save videogames as we know them! SuperEpic is a Metroidvania style action-adventure game filled with humor and satire. The gameplay is nonlinear and fast-paced, with exploration and combo-based combat the weapon of choice against the evil Regnantcorp!

Pathologic 2 (December 12)

Pathologic 2 is a narrative-driven dramatic thriller about fighting a deadly outbreak in a secluded rural town. The town is dying. Face the realities of a collapsing society as you make difficult choices in seemingly lose-lose situations. The plague isn’t just a disease. You can’t save everyone. The plague is devouring the town. The chief local healer is dead, and you are now to take his place. You’ll have to look for unexpected allies. The local kids are hiding something. Try playing by their rules. You only have 12 days. 12 days in an odd town ravaged by a deadly disease.Time is of the essence: if you don’t manage it carefully, it’ll simply run out. You’ll have to choose how to spend the priceless minutes you have.Survival thriller. You’ll have to manage your bodily functions, offsetting hunger, thirst, exhaustion, and so on. It doesn’t boil down to scavenging resources. Surviving on your own is hard; you’ll have to win over allies.An uphill battle. Managing your bodily parameters may seem bearable at first, and as time goes by, it becomes harder and harder. Your own body is only waiting for an opportunity to give up and betray you. Things are changing from bad to worse and the odds are stacked against you.A duel with an enemy you can’t kill. Your main foe is the plague itself, an incorporeal and malevolent entity that you have to defeat… without having the means to. It’s more powerful and more treacherous than you can imagine.Loot, murder, mug, steal, barter, beg… or don’t. You need resources to survive, and it’s up to you how to obtain them.The fights are short, ungraceful, and vicious. They’re not always lethal though. Many people—yourself included—would prefer to exchange their wallet for their life.

Cardpocalypse (December 12)

On her first day at Dudsdale Elementary, 10-year old Jess accidentally gets everybody’s favorite collectible card game banned. Troubles arise when mutants from the game invade the real world, and it’s up to Jess and friends to stop them. Make friends, play cards, twist the rules, become a Mega Mutant Power Pets master, and save the world in this single-player RPG about being a kid growing up in the ‘90s.

Dreamwalker: Never Fall Asleep (December 13)

In a small tourist town, a young girl, the daughter of the town’s mayor, falls in coma due to an accident. The inability of the local physicians’ forces Mrs. Mayor to seek the aid of a psychiatrist, who is rumored to possess a unique ability to traverse people’s dreams, a Dreamwalker.

Aborigenus (December 13)

A small adventure platformer with RPG-elements in a primal world. Hunt the aggressive fauna, learn new abilities and fight with the whole enemy army. Choose who you are – a shaman, a warrior or a hunter. Can you save the flying islands from the evil?

Dead End Job (December 13)

Take on the role of Hector Plasm, a worker at Ghoul-B-Gone, the Number One expert in paranormal pest control, as you’re tasked with heading to haunted offices, restaurants, and other everyday buildings before freeing them of unwanted guests. Enter this madcap, whacky world to bust up ghosts in this procedurally generated, couch co-op, twin-stick shooter. Read the full article

#Games #XboxOne

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mybukz · 5 years

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Serial Fiction: The Trees of 8/2—Chapter 1

Image by Matthew T Rader on Unsplash

The Trees Of 8/2: Chapter 1

By Lingesvaran S

Trees have feelings. They harbour anger, rage, sadness, and pour forth love selflessly. When a massive highway begins its snaking path through Damansara, a revolt begins, stirred by an ancient evil and the lust for gold. This is the first chapter of the suffering of trees and the greed of men. The next chapter coming soon.

Jagish sighed and picked up the remains of his cigarette from the packet of noodles. He regretted flicking it with his injured finger.

The wind had died down but he looked up when a whistle rang through the boughs of the lone pokok payung. It was an odd tree. The usual ones had layers of spread out arms, with evenly spaced branches and leaves. This one had boughs. Packs of branches curled up into dark, dense clumps.

He stood staring at the tree, half clouded in darkness, away from the halogen lights. Eventually, he flicked the second cigarette at the tree and began his inspection route.

It was happening every night now.

Jagish clocked in, walked around the soil test sites and found drills broken at a site every night. Last night's incident got him into a fight with the day supervisor. They had argued about the illegal workers being not skilled and their carelessness causing damage to the equipment. He rode home with a cracked lip and bleeding nose.

There hadn’t been proof of tampering by vandals or the resident groups, though the police did take in some of the rowdier protestors for questioning.

Nothing. No one saw or heard anything.

Ten minutes into his rounds he arrived at the second site, and sighed when he saw the mangled mess. He wondered if feral dogs could have done it. His nose was still sore. He winced as he blew it, ejecting snot and dried blood.

"Nope. Not feral dogs," he decided.

A couple, worse for drink, ambled past him. He stared at them until they stopped near his bike. The girl held the friend as he heaved and emptied his guts.

"Oi!" Jagish shouted, and sprinted across. The man straightened up and ran, dragging the bemused girl with him.

"The stink is never going to go off!" he shouted, waving his fist at them while wiping the seat with his face towel.

A loud crack startled him. Jagish looked around. It had sounded like a breaking branch, but the last of the trees along this stretch was felled yesterday. The last Flame Of The Forest was colossal and they couldn't dig up the root after it fell. What remained as a one-meter high stump was currently a seat for an old man, who was staring at Jagish.

Jagish blinked and rubbed his eyes, just to be sure.

"Hello?" he tried.

The stare continued in silence.

"Uhm, uncle? Are you from around here?" Jagish tried again.

He wasn't sure if the man was Malay or Chinese. Definitely wasn't Indian, he decided, judging from the attire.

The old man was in a robe that covered his limbs. He was sitting cross-legged, hands resting on his knees. The old man shifted without moving his arms and nodded at a pile of logs stacked neatly on the pavement opposite.

"Where are they going?" the old man asked.

"What?" Jagish said, startled at the way the robe changed colour in the breeze.

"Where are you taking them?" the old man rephrased.

Jagish shrugged, trying to focus on the robe. Something told him that the old man wasn't exactly directing the question to him, rather to someone who Jagish couldn't see.

He saw the old man nod, agreeing to someone.

"OK, a nutcase," Jagish told himself and started towards the old man to remove him from the site.

Except, the old man wasn't on the stump anymore. Nor was he in the vicinity. Jagish was alone, with the distant sounds of a pub closing down for the night. He stood staring at the empty stump until he felt his thumping heart slow down to a purr.

"OK, don't panic. You're tired, hating this job and imagining things," he thought and continued aloud, "Old men don't stay out late, sitting on tree stumps, and you need another smoke."

Jagish sat on the stump and rolled himself a cigarette. It wasn't the perfect roll he usually prided himself with. It was hard to keep hold of the tobacco even when your fingers were trembling and your palms were sweaty. He took a deep drag from the slightly moist and bent rollup, glad for the throat hit and vanilla cherry flavour. The exhale caught his throat when he saw a shadow detach itself from a lamp post and limp into a gap in the roadside bush. Choking and rasping, he stood and squinted. The limp sort of reminded him of his grandma. Before he could shout, the shadow disappeared into the gloom. Jagish shook his head and smacked his face. This was getting a bit too much for one night. He needed something stronger.

"Where have you been?"

The figure removed the hood and gave a toothy grin.

"Scaring the kids coming out from the gaming centre," it replied to the old man.

The old man sighed, "you were supposed to be here hours ago. Do you know how tiring it is to be at two places at once?"

The shadow limped from one foot to the other and shrugged.

"Of course, you don't," snapped the old man. "Now, go to the T junction and man the broken lamp post. The Payungs will be out in force tonight."

"Woman," said the shadow.

"What?"

"Woman the lamp post," it clarified and sniggered.

The old man glared at the shadow as it limped away.

Jagish spat out the rest of the rollup and walked a nonchalant but brisk stroll towards the 7-Eleven. The supervisor wouldn’t mind him grabbing a beer. “What he doesn’t know, wouldn't hurt me,” Jagish thought.

Perhaps he was tired of this job. He had been a site clearance officer for three years but had already started hating it after the first four months. It was the only thing he knew and his dismal SPM results didn't open many other doors. And then the DASH highway project was approved and with a promotion to supervising site inspector, he was posted here. The project would give him at least another four years of employment, if the feral dogs or the resident protestors didn’t get to him first.

Tonight was probably his imagination or it could be a sign for change.

The 7-Eleven was close to the last two sites. He decided it would be quicker to inspect them and then knock off for the night. He skipped over the road divider and headed to the closest one.

It was only set up yesterday, and he was worried about the silence of the drills. They should have been hammering the ground.

Wind whistled through the gaps in the twisted metal. The drill bit was missing. Jagish reached out to touch the tortured hammer but drew back his hand and swallowed. A gnarled root was withdrawing into the hole below the drill. At the pointed end, the root grasped the torn up drill bit. It paused, shivered, and then with a sound like shovel slapping wet cement, it was out of sight.

It was the last straw. Jagish, frozen for the few seconds of gazing-at-an-impossible-root, screamed, turned and smacked his forehead on a trunk. A branch caught him as he slid, unconscious, to the ground.

Clementine Joe sipped his iced white coffee as he read the report. He reached into his pocket for the absent box of cigarettes, sighed, and picked up his vape.

He stared at the fresh report from the site manager. Another missing person. The site supervisor didn't clock out that morning and he was suspected of running off with the workers’ salaries.

Highly unlikely, he thought. CJ knew Jagish. He often mumped roll ups on long nights from him. The man had an integrity of sorts. The kind that didn’t rip off contract foreigners.

There was a mention of alcohol somewhere in the report.

Jagish didn’t drink. He remembered the tale of Jagish’s father drinking himself to bankruptcy one long night at the mamak. Jagish had to work after school, with his mum, cleaning offices.

No, he definitely didn’t drink.

He was missing, a day after the kids.

His friends only knew CJ as Wacko Joe. Only his mother called him Clementine. His late father called him ‘Bastard’, when he wasn’t drunk, and ‘Boy’, when he was. To his crew, he was known as Captain CJ, and in one particular case, ‘Boss’.

“Kumar!” he shouted at a reclining figure on the guest sofa.

The figure jumped up and tripped on a cat, resulting in a squeal and groan.

“Boss?” Kumar limped over to the Captain’s desk.

“Why didn’t you alert me about this?” he said, waving the report.

“What is that, boss?” Kumar said, holding his bleeding arm.

CJ paused, allowing the man to grab a tissue and wipe the blood from a scratch wound.

“How many times have I told you to get rid of the cat?”

Kumar shrugged, looking sheepish.

“He doesn’t cause any trouble, boss.”

Kumar’s eyes followed his Captain’s gaze to his arm.

“Right, and stop snoozing on the sofa. You were supposed to be on rounds tonight.”

Kumar shrugged again.

“The Corporals are on patrol tonight. I took the last two nights, boss,” Kumar said, wincing at the scowl from CJ.

“The Corporals? The Corporals? They’re on desk duty until I tell them! Those idiots couldn’t stay away from the maids, remember? I had to do something to make sure no one gets fired. Especially me!”

He paused for another tissue wipe.

“Get them back here this instant. I need to look into this,” he said, waving the report again.

Kumar’s eyes darted to the report.

“Is that the one about the missing site supervisor?”

CJ nodded, while Kumar continued, “But that’s not ours, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean … I mean, this is the settlements case,” Kumar stammered.

CJ sighed, “No, this is the one from DP.”

“That’s what I meant,” Kumar said, “the settlements.”

CJ frowned. “The orang asli settlements? No, he was reported missing at the highway site at DP…”

“… near the settlements,” Kumar finished the sentence.

“So?” CJ said, incredulous.

“The cursed trees? The missing kids? The old man?” Kumar pointed out, pointing three fingers at CJ.

“What?” CJ laughed, “those are just stories to scare the workers. This is real.”

Kumar looked at the sergeant. He’s known him for over twenty years, ever since they joined the Watch. CJ had climbed up the Watch ladder fast whilst he remained a Constable, watching the ladder crumble every time he tried stepping on the first rung. And, all these years, CJ’s been the closest he’s had to a family. But the man can drive you nuts sometimes!

Kumar sighed, “I don’t have a choice, do I? We are going to the site tonight?”

CJ smiled.

“You read my mind, brother!”

Outside, it had began to pour, causing steam to rise from last night's wrecks. A wet smack and a slithering sound was drowned by the drops on the road and mud. An inquisitive strand investigated the edges of the drill hole before hurling a muddy lighter to the street.

The mamak stall offered a smug, albeit smoky, shelter from the driving rain. Two soaked men sat opposite each other sipping coffee and smoking cheap cigarettes.

"Boss, it doesn't look like the rain is going to stop," said Kumar.

"And?" asked CJ.

Kumar grinned and said, "Maybe we should just go back?"

CJ turned at stared through the rain.

"No, we should wait for it to stop," he said, nodding at a drill across the road, “That’s the only working drill left. Whoever has been tampering with them is probably waiting for the rain to stop.”

He lit another cigarette and took a deep drag. It was someone who was protesting against the highway being built there. He was sure of it, even if, deep down, he knew murders or kidnapping over something like a strip of bitumen never actually occurred, except maybe in gangster movies.

“It could have been one of the gangs from KD,” said Kumar, reading his boss’s face.

CJ said nothing, just a certain extent of shame rose that Kumar knew so much about his ambition to, one day, be able to bust a kingpin.

“That’s one of my guesses. Maybe they were demanding protection money.”

Not likely, Kumar thought. The gangs were juvenile, harassing liquor stores and food stalls. The highway construction company was a little above their extortion rank. But he kept his thoughts to himself. Anything that would keep his friend off the bottle was fine with Kumar.

In any case, he was very, very sure it had something to do with settlements. He mumbled a prayer and tapped CJ’s shoulder.

“Let’s take a ride down to the kampung and look around,” Kumar said.

CJ scowled at him but shrugged. The rain wasn't showing any signs of letting up. At least if he agreed, the trip down would put Kumar’s spirit fantasy to rest .

Three days earlier, a couple from the settlement had lodged a tearful report at the beat post; two of their children were missing. The kids had been playing in the puddles on the football field behind the school. This was verified when one of the officers questioned the school caretaker.

He had chided them but as most pre-teens do, they had ignored him and splashed around well into dusk. It was way past dinner time when the father, having had a bad day at work at the meat sorting section in the local market, came looking for them. He roughed up the caretaker, suspecting him as most would suspect a lone old man in charge of schools at night, but only found their school bags in the mud when they went out to the edge of the forest bordering the field. The father, in the confusion that neither their bodies nor other evidences had presented themselves, had taken out his anger on the old man, leaving him with a broken nose and a stooped limp. He had then taken off to fetch his wife from the construction’s concrete mixing section, before heading to the beat base to make the tearful report.

The junction down by the school was deserted. That was expected, thought CJ. It would have been unusual to have people milling about the pisang goreng stalls whilst getting drenched, unless of course the place was jammed with traffic and commuters needed respite from the rain. But the stall was closed and it was a long weekend. The smouldering remains of a wood stove offered a little bit of warmth in the cold October shower. No, correct that to downpour.

CJ wondered why the stove was warm when the shop should have been closed that day. He poked the ashes with a stick, turning the smouldering embers around. He wasn't sure he wanted to find anything illegal being cooked over the stove but he, being the bastard he was, was still trying to find out.

Kumar was fumbling about in one of the desk drawers that served as a cashier counter.

“Found any missing kids in there?” CJ’s snide remark drew a shrug.

Kumar was always looking into things, especially things that were not his own. Like other people’s wallets during a roadblock or the contents of the laundry operator’s coin pouch.

"Nope. Did you find any in the stove?"

CJ grunted and grinned, “You know me and my twisted mind. They might have been grilling weed in a can.”

“Yes, it tastes better with some batter, I heard,” Kumar snorted.

“I’m going over to the flats,” CJ said. “Why don’t you wait here and see if any of the usual junkies pass by?”

“What? In this rain?” Kumar asked. “They’re only out and about when it’s darker and no one can smell them.”

CJ walked out, pulling the hood over his head, “It’s getting dark and the rain will wash away some of the stink. They’ll be here, and I want you to question them.”

Kumar imitated a bad version of the grunt. CJ was right. It was raining and junkies are the only good pickings around. He jingled the coins in his pocket. And he needed to buy dinner later, so there was no point arguing with CJ. Kumar squatted and began to rummage the bottom shelves.

The rain began to pour in earnest, in deference to the fact that it just did the same ten minutes before.

Lingesvaran S: "Working as a technical project manager during the day, and donning the hopeful author cape and mask and night. Short fictions published, but never followed up on, with high hopes of publishing the two full length novels that keep refusing to cooperate."

#serial #fiction #malaysian literature #malaysian fiction #lingesvaran s #trees of 8/2

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loiyaltie · 11 months

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WHICH RAGE LANGUAGE ARE YOU?

STEP BACK.

usually, you're able to bottle up your emotions and ignore the frustrations. but, after weeks of shoving everything down, your body needs a release, and i pity the poor person who managed to piss you off. it's screaming crying, shouting, kicking lockers, whatever you can do to get it out of your system. it's a whole jean grey moment, fire and fury blasting out of you.

tagged; @zajevre & @colzhia tagging: @daohuai, @astrcls (your choice!), @ddazzlingblds, @tragedicn (aren!), @batoushoujo

#ic. [ a captain's duty / dash games. ]#(oh but now i'm thinking about this and while i think he does not explode /at/ people now )#( i could absolutely see him bottling up his own personal feelings until he physically cannot do it any longer and has to get away and be )#( so he can have his moment. holding it together by a single thread of grit teeth and clenched fists until he is out of sight and explodes #( younger gep would scream into his pillow in frustration or throw things about in his room )#(as he got older it became practice; swinging his weapon until he could no longer lift his arms and if he screamed well he was just trainin #( he learns to deal with it to shut things down before he can get that angry because he's a /captain/ and a /role model/ for the citizens #( and he's not allowed emotions in the same way others are )#(at least in his mind/through the pressures of family but oh boy he can get there particularly when it's directed at opposition to ideals )#(s.ampo's definitely witnessed it at least once probably )#( he keeps a lid on it but it's been a learning curve )#( his threshold for holding back his emotions is so high in the now timeline because of all he has built on but his youth?)#(bottling it was important and his parents ensured he would.)#(its unsightly for a landau to scream and shout; channel it )

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multsicorn · 7 years

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fic: physical chemical (jack/parse)

Jack needs anything to distract him from the worries in his head. So - he kisses his hot best friend.

Explicit, ~3400 words, also here on ao3.

The Rimouski Océanic lose to the Montreal Junior Hockey Club 3-0. It's their fourth loss in a row, the team record deteriorating from a respectable if disappointing 4-2 at the start of the season to an early-mounting avalanche of defeats that's becoming harder and harder to come back from. Morale in the locker room is starting to crumble, and Jack, as captain, feels both duty-bound and hopeless to turn the course of this leaking ship back towards land before it sinks.

They probably shouldn't have named him captain. He was the leading scorer, last year. This year Parse is edging him out even for that title, 7 to 6 so far. But he doesn't know how to motivate people. He has no idea how to lead. He may be the best player on the ice, driving power plays, making shots on goal, but if he can't figure out how to play captain as well as he's always played center, the dashed hopes of the Océanic will be all on his shoulders. And he'll never get to play seriously again. He can't even imagine.

The cold spray of the locker room shower ought to sting his skin. He'd been waiting for the pain of it as soon as he trudged off the ice. But somehow, caught up in his own head, he can't feel the needles of water as they penetrate the heavy gray cloud of self-directed anger and loathing. He lathers up and rinses off quickly, and if he's shaking when he gets out, it's neither from tiredness or temperature but from sheer animal terror.

He needs to get away from the arena. He wants to get away from everything. But in half an hour, he also needs to be meeting his parents for dinner, with Parse, so he goes up into the nearby hotel to change.

Parse is watching cartoon ducks flying a helicopter on the TV when Jack gets in and throws himself facedown on the other bed. "Zimms," he says. Jack grunts in response.

Dinner with his parents. Fuck. Papa's always gone over the play with him after a game. It's what makes Jack a better player than his teammates, what's helped him improve year after year: the opportunity afterwards to revisit every missed opportunity on the ice. It's not just the play-by-play, either, though that will be painful enough. Papa will ask for his ideas on how to resuscitate the sinking Océanic (and thus, unspoken, Jack's planned-on career). Jack can't bear to imagine telling his father that he's been too overwhelmed by their failures, and too paralyzed by fear, to have come up with any plans. Papa's ideas will be better than Jack's would have been in any case, he's sure, but that doesn't change the fact that he can't go into this situation without a single defense plan prepared.

"We should get going now," Parse says, "if we wanna meet your parents on time." Jack hadn't noticed, but the TV's off now. He wonders how long he's been lying here for. Parse tosses something at him from the direction of the dresser, and the nice gray slacks Jack had brought for this occasion whip across his face when he doesn't move to catch them. From across the room come the sounds of Parse changing: rustle of a too-stiff shirt, clink of belt. "C'mon, Zimms. The hell are you waiting for?"

"Go on without me," Jack groans. He waves his hand tiredly, like a soldier bleeding out, who needs to say to his comrades: there's nothing more you can do here. Leave me to die.

Parse snorts. "They're your parents, dude. I don't think they wanna see me without you."

"Just - tell 'em I'm sick or something. Can't you?" Parse always covers for him. It's mutual; Parse had asked him first, always the joker, the troublemaker, back in their rookie year. Now Parse shakes his head, and Jack doesn't know if he's scared to lie to Jack's father or tired of the shifting balance between them or what.

The balance of the bed is disturbed as Parse climbs onto it, then holds the back of his hand to Jack's forehead for a few seconds. "You're not, are you?"

Jack shakes his head to get rid of the intrusion. "I just don't have anything to say to them. I played like shit today. You saw it."

"You've gotta stop beating yourself up, man. The game's over." Parse's voice is too warm, and Jack wishes it would just go away.

"Shut up, Parser. You - "

"It hurts the whole team when you do this," Parse's voice cuts over his.

"You don't even know what it's like. Your passes connected today. This is all me. I couldn't make 'em count."

"We all have bad days." Parse's voice is sharper, now, cause that's the effect Jack has on his friends, apparently. "You don't get to act like you're the only one this team matters to."

"I can't," Jack says. "I can't have bad days." But this inability feels free-floating and all-encompassing. He can't do anything, anyone can see that, and Parse is too close to him on the bed, and his parents are too close waiting downstairs, and the draft is too close, months away, closing in, and there's nowhere he can go to get away, not from any of it, not even for a second. He can't breathe, and he feels his lungs laboring, the bedspread shaking in his clenched fingers, and in the background of it all he feels Parse's hands, moving slow and steady on his back.

"Breathe, Zimms," Parse is saying. "Just breathe." Jack wants to object that it's not that easy, that if he could be breathing he would be, but in fact of course he can't say anything. He can only keep hanging on as his heart and lungs decide whether to recalibrate themselves.

After some time he tears his eyes up from where his hands are still bunching up the tiny blue-on-blue floral print to look at Parse's head, which is bent in front of his own. Jack can't see his face just now. What he can see and he can't stop staring at is the tousled mess of golden curls that Parse always tries to put into some sort of order, but Jack is in love with just the way they are. Whether because Jack's breath coming so deep, or because Parse is just sitting so close to him, a few strands of hair wave back and forth as Jack breathes in and out.

"D'you need anything?" Parse asks. "Pills? Water?" Jack should say yes. Should choose something like that. But he's not thinking again and he can't. start thinking. and. he thinks. Parse is right here -

"Just tell me," Parse says. His hand is still on Jack's back, and Jack leans up and pulls Parse to him with a hand in his shirt collar. He kisses him like he'll never have to worry about breathing again, with his tongue and his teeth all at once, and for three heart-stopping seconds Parse doesn't kiss him back, and then he does.

It's a perfect distraction. Parse moves the hand that had been lingering on Jack's back to hook under his arm, to help pull Jack up as he himself leans down so there's no strain left in the way of their kiss. So there's nothing left in Jack's universe except the remarkable softness of Parse's messy hair, in his hand, except for the unexpected marvel of Parse's spit in his mouth.

Parse pulls back, after some moments, and leans his forehead up against Jack's. "So we're doing this?"

The color of his eyes is no more definable from up close than it's ever been, but Jack still loses time in trying to parse the boundaries between blue and green and gray. Parse watches him back for a while, eyes wide and almost steady on Jack's face, but eventually he breaks.

"Cause I don't know about you, but I - I really - " and Jack says, "Please," in answer to Parse's last question, on the way to both kissing him and shutting him up again.

When Jack kisses Parse, Parse pulls him closer, into him, even onto him, and Jack follows, chasing Parse's mouth and the salty skin of his neck and the heat of his body. Parse pulls, and Jack pushes, both ever closer, so that eventually Jack is lying with his upper half on Parse's chest, and Parse is bent backwards at the waist. Jack thinks it must be uncomfortable, but with his hands on Parse's ass he can't muster up the thoughts to care. He wants skin, though, even more than anything, so he moves his hands and spreads them out wide over Parse's hips, fingers dipping under his trousers and crawling up under his untucked shirt. He wants to feel all of Parse's skin, right now, wants to surround himself in it, wants suddenly very badly to know just how far they can push this thing between them.

"Can you?" Jack whispers, right into Parse's mouth.

Parse is smiling like he thinks his next shot might be a game-winner. "Yeah?"

Jack moves his fingers to indicate. "Take it off?"

"Sure." Parse pushes at Jack's shoulders, then. "You gotta get off me first, though."

"Oh. Yeah."

Parse is beautiful when he gets up from the bed. When Jack lets him get up, which is thrilling. But then, Jack always thinks he's beautiful -

Well, that's because he is, objectively. There's nothing new about the motions of Parse pushing his shirt off his shoulders, or his pants down his thighs, much less the lightly-muscled but wonderfully mundane flesh that he exposes by doing so. Jack's boner had been getting uncomfortable in his shorts, and so he removes them and his underwear all in one quick motion, then lies down on his side to watch Parse finish undressing.

Parse is standing in the space between their beds wearing just his black boxer-briefs, with his thumbs tucked into the waistband and a sheepish half-grin on his face. He's hard. The bulbous near-cylinder of his cock stretches the cloth out deliciously, almost but not quite poking out of the waistband. This Jack hasn't seen before, not in locker rooms or in hotels, and even contained in a layer of cotton, his mouth waters for it.

He wants Parse to come back to the bed just like that, wants to mouth at his cock through the fabric before Parse lets him taste for real. He wants to ask Parse to - he just wants to let Parse fuck his mouth. He's made significant if embarrassing progress on bananas and cucumbers, but he's not sure he's good enough to try for real yet. He doesn't want to risk messing it up.

"Like what you see?" Parse asks. He's insufferable. Smirking, now, under Jack's stare, but Jack knows Parse's smirks well enough to see the currents of uncertainty under this one.

He swallows, still wanting to ask for more. "Everything?"

"Okay."

Parse strips off his boxer-briefs and climbs back onto the bed in one fluid movement, depriving Jack of his opportunity to continue staring. But then Parse is naked, and next to him, warmth radiating out and filling the inches between them with such an intensity that the space feels almost like a physical entity.

"Hey," Parse says. There's laughter in his eyes, but his voice is as serious as it gets. Jack leans in to kiss him again, bare contact of lip on lip.

"Hey, yourself." Jack kind of wants to pull Parse all the way into him, or to roll forward into Parse. Either way, just so they're pushed together. But he doesn't move because he wants to get to touch Parse's dick just a little bit more than that.

Parse runs his fingers careful-light up Jack's sides, up under the sky-blue t-shirt that he'd honestly forgotten he's still wearing. "You're not even naked." There's laughter in his voice now, too.

"But you are." Jack reaches out, but his fingers hover bare millimeters away from making contact with Parse's body, barely further than the pale golden hair that curls in the middle of Parse's chest. He's not sure where he's allowed to touch. He ends up putting his hand on one of Parse's pecs, and Parse's skin rises and falls minutely as he breathes where Jack's touching him. "Can I jerk you off?" he says. It's about all he can think of. Though Parse's torso is fascinating, too, from up close. Even if Jack must've seen it before, he's never noticed the trail of fair hair that leads almost invisibly down from the lowest of Parse's abs to where his cock is standing out, flushed, only an inch or two from the meat of Jack's own thigh.

"Like I'd say no to that, Zimms." Parse's answer interrupts Jack's concentration, but it's what he's been waiting for.

"Okay." Jack bites his lip, and lets his hand travel down. The pull feels inevitable, like gravity. He skims over the firm surface of Parse's abs with his fingertips, over the heartbreaking cut of muscle between his obliques and his hips, and wraps his hand, finally, around the shaft of Parse's cock.

Parse twitches in his hand with a low sound that punches Jack right in the gut. Jack wonders how many more sounds like that he can get Parse to make. Parse shifts his weight, then, so that he's lying more on his back and Jack's hand slips off - it must have been too sweaty, with the nerves. After a moment of re-balancing he wraps his fingers around Parse again, more tightly this time. His fingertips almost meet the base of his palm, which is crazily hot, to think he can engulf Parse in this way without even trying. Parse's cock is red, flushed with blood and excitement and Jack could swear he can feel Parse's heartbeat through the addictively soft skin there. Or maybe it's just his own, pounding through his fingers.

Parse isn't saying anything, as Jack moves his hand up and down, isn't even making noise, and as much as Jack loves what he's doing he's starting to wonder if he's doing it wrong. He's run this play in his head more times than he'd care to admit, but real life is always different, his imagination insufficient to fully account for changed angles and the responses of the other players involved. Now, when he tears his eyes up from Parse's dick long enough to see his face, it's flushed, as if he's just taken off his helmet. Cheeks as red as his dick, hair looking like a hurricane's been through it... and his eyes, whatever color, are closed.

"How'm I doing?" Jack asks. It sucks, having to ask that, not being sure.

" - shit. Fuck." Parse's vowels are bitten off, which Jack thinks hopefully is a good sign. "Could you, like - "

"What," Jack asks, but Parse doesn't explain. Instead he puts his own hand over Jack's, tugging them together to twist counterclockwise around the head on the upstroke.

"Okay," Jack says. He's got it, but Parse doesn't let go of his hand, which is frustrating. How's he ever gonna get better at this if Parse doesn't let him try - but, well. The sight of the two of them stroking together is pretty nice, too.

Parse's hips finally start snapping up into their interlaced fingers, and Jack pushes his palm and his fingers back down onto and around him even harder. He wants this forever -

But he only gets to have it right now for a minute or so before Parse is coming. His release smears thrillingly on Jack's fingers as he works him through it, until Parse pries him off with his other hand to finish stroking himself through the aftershocks.

A few drops stick to Jack's thigh. He wishes there were more.

Parse lies flat down on his back, then. His breathing is loud, but otherwise he's silent, and Jack follows him over. He tucks his face into the space between Parse's shoulder and neck, and wriggles so that his weight presses his dick firmly into Parse's hipbone. He's still hard, though he he'd forgotten for a while.

Parse breathes, and Jack takes it all in: the aftermath, he guesses. Twin feelings of contentment and arousal expand like colored clouds of smoke to fill his mind. He doesn't notice that he's rubbing against Parse's hip until Parse puts a hand on his ass and says, "Zimms. Calm down." As if the action and the statement taken together aren't completely contradictory.

He gets an elbow under himself and levers his upper body off Parse, carefully, disentangling till only their feet remain together. "Do you mind if I jerk off?" If Parse doesn't want to reciprocate, then fine, but he's getting uncomfortable by now.

"Just gimme a minute," Parse says. Jack thinks he's already given him plenty. But he doesn't point this out, after all, first of all because it's unlikely to help, and then because Parse is flailing around, trying to move uncoordinatedly, and then he's holding Jack's cock in his hand, which is. Yes. Well. That's good.

Jack's been waiting too long at this point. The visual of Parse's hand on his cock, the way that Parse's smaller fingers make Jack look all out of proportion and almost too big, is incredible. But he can't be sure of the placement of the calluses on Parse's hand, which must be different from his own. He can't tell how literally soft Parse's hands are or aren't on his dick - they're on his dick! - and still, he wants to know how they feel choking up on Parse's stick. Because he's been leaking for ages, and he's desperate, and then he's coming already, and by the time he's managed to think all these things, half of them are in retrospect.

And then he's sitting half-up, panting over his messy dick and Parse's messy hand and what despite its theoretical shortcomings is still by far the best orgasm he's had so far in his life of now, he definitively knows, way too few orgasms.

He flops back down to the bed. He feels like he's floating in a sea of stars. Like it's one of those nights they've gone down to the beach, when the sea and the sky are both so clear that all of the stars reflect into the water, as if they've taken over the world. When they float looking up into the sky, and everything in every direction looks the same as in every other.

"Are you okay?" Parse's voice doesn't quite wake him up. Jack hadn't been sleeping, but at the question he blinks abruptly alert. Somehow Parse must have gotten up, showered, and dressed again, all while Jack was lying here. "Because we have to go meet your parents, like, right now. We're already late."

Parse looks worried, but Jack is still feeling lazy. "Don't wanna," he says, both to see what Parse will do now, and because it's still true.

Parse leans down to kiss him quickly, which must be an answer to that question, which is amazing, and then grabs Jack by both arms to pull him up off the bed.

"But you gotta," Parse says. "Come on."

Honestly? If anyone asked Jack, right now, he'd say he mostly wants to stare at Parse's face forever. He probably he should eat something. But the unbearable weight of anxiety that he remembers had almost broken him down earlier seems to have dissipated, for now. Like when he's out there on the ice: maybe it's endorphins that do the trick. In any case, dinner feels possible right now. So he washes quickly, Parse slapping his ass as he heads into the shower, and he wrestles the dress slacks he picks back up from the floor over his thighs. They're hopelessly wrinkled, but he doesn't care. He buttons up the shirt that Parse digs out of his suitcase while he's fastening his pants, and brushes the back of his hand against Parse's before they walk out the door.

#jackparse #pimms #kent parson #omgcheckplease stuff #a: my fic

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funnybooksandfirewater · 5 years

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Ep 140 - Underwater Welder

This Week: Pressure. As an underwater welder on an oil rig off the coast of Nova Scotia, Jack Joseph is used to the immense pressures of deep-sea work. Nothing, however, could prepare him for the pressures of impending fatherhood. As Jack dives deeper and deeper, he seems to pull further and further away from his young wife and their unborn son. But then, something happens deep on the ocean floor. Jack has a strange and mind-bending encounter that will change the course of his life forever!

Equal parts blue-collar character study and mind-bending science fiction epic, The Underwater Welder explores fathers and sons, birth and death, memory and truth, and the treasures we all bury deep down inside.

Drinking Game

This is Halloween - Take a drink every time there is a reference to Halloween.

Under the Sea - Anytime a scene starts underwater.

Those cancer sticks will kill you - Take a drink, whenever anyone smokes a cigarette.

That’s a mighty fine mustache - Every time you see Jack’s Dad’s mustache, take a drink.

The Dutiful wife - Any time Jack say his wife name, take a drink.

Playlist

Cats in the Cradle by Harry Chapin

One by Three Dog Night

Father of Mine by Everlclear

One by Filter

One by Metallica

Dance In the Grave Yards by Delta Ray

Cocktail

Captain's Son

2 oz Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum

5 oz Ginger ale

Combine ingredients in a double old-fashioned glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Bay Breeze

1 Cup Ice

2 oz Cranberry Juice

2 oz Pineapple Juice

1 1/2 oz Vodka

Combine all ingredients in a highball glass, garnish with a lime

The Welder

1.5 ounces bourbon

1/2 ounce Aperol

1 ounce chili syrup

Add to ice filled shaker, shake the shit out of it and strain into a rocks glass. Garnish with chili

Chili syrup: 1 cup water, 1 cup sugar, 1 red chili sliced and seeded. Add all ingredients to a pan, bring to boil for a minute and take off heat and let stand 20 minutes. Strain into a bottle

Cannonball Rum

1 pt White Rum

1 pt Gin

1 pt Orange Juice

1 pt Pineapple juice

1 pt Lemon-Lime soda

1 pt Strawberry soda

Serve over ice with pineapple, or tropical orchid garnish.

Susan

1 oz orange Juice

1/2 oz lemon Juice

5 oz ginger ale

Dash of Grenadine

Garnish with orange slice or lemon twist

Next Week: Once the world's most famous chef, Gavin Cruikshank's been in a self-imposed exile for years. His little foodie television program has since evolved into STARVE, an arena sport that pits chef against chef for the pleasure of their super-rich patrons. It's a stain on a once-noble profession, and Chef Gavin is ready to go to war to stop it. Two things stand in his way: his arch rival Roman Algiers, and his adult daughter Angie, who probably just wants her dad back and acting normal.

Episode 140- The Underwater Welder Out Now! On: ITUNES, STITCHER, GOOGLEPLAY, PODBEAN, YouTube, and TUNEIN

#Family Drama #Underwater Welder #Jeff Lemire

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andrewuttaro · 5 years

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New Look Sabres: GM 24 - DET

Detroit is like Montreal in that Buffalo hasn’t seen them in the playoffs in a great long while; in fact, the Sabres have never met the Red Wings in the playoffs. That is in no small part because they sat in the Western Conference for a while. They bitched and moaned their way out of that one. In the same way they’re kind of like meh, why do I hate these guys? Should I do the Burn Book now? I’ll do the Burn Book now. Why should we hate the Detroit Red Wings? Sabres fans, Detroit has all the snobbery of Montreal with an American industrial decay flavor. Hate them because they’re so illustrious a team they can stink and not get too badly roasted by the great hockey prognosticators. Detroit fans: You have been languishing in-between dynasties for nearly a decade but there isn’t any panic there. It’s probably because you fans are really the biggest losers: The young fans are there chasing the fading reputation of winning and the old fans there think grit is the most important trait for a hockey player in spite of having watched Pavel Datsyuk for how many years? New ways of doubling down on dumb are being pioneered every year in Detroit these days. You all keep pointing to a promising future that I am not sure your management is willing to pay for. Montreal is taking overtures from you now about ill-advised contracts and thick headed leadership. The second coming of Steve Yzerman is on your breaths because you know you suck ass. Beating you all is fun but never all that surprising. While I’d say those are some ample burns; how about this game.

The game had hardly begun when Detroit got called for too many men on the ice. I know it’s a pretty new arena, guys but you can’t get called for that. On the ensuing Sabres powerplay Jeff Skinner scored in a bit of mad dash in front of Red Wings goaltender Jimmy Howard. On the other end of the ice it was Linus Ullmark in net. Yes, he’s played in this win streak and yes he hasn’t looked as other-worldly as Carter Hutton in much fewer starts. The guy’s got Saturday duties as if he doesn’t get to play other days and when a random puck got dumped on net and took a dangerous bounce toward the net I could feel my heart breaking for Ullmark. It didn’t go in and Ullmark held onto 1-0 through 20 minutes of play; the second period though the haters got their hobby horse and Ullmark let in a bit of Dylan Larkin stinker from the wall. There were other stinky parts of this game. Marco Scandella had perhaps his most dreadful game of the win streak. There were also a lot of non-stinky things in this game. Tage Thompson for example got a few shots himself in each period. The guy has three goals and three assists in his last four games. Ops, I just gave it away: five minutes into the third period Sam Reinhart and our old pal Tomas Vanek got penalties and there was a space of time it was 4 on 4. Mind you, I was at a 50th Wedding Anniversary party at the most Italian place you will ever smell. Name an Italian stereotype and it probably happened at this party. Let’s just say it was too loud to hear the stream. I watched parts of the game on my phone but didn’t really hear anything until later on. We’ll get there.

Anyway, the 4-on-4 yielded a sweet opportunity for Dylan Larkin that nothing came of (except a wicked Ullmark stop) and then as the Sabres took over their O-Zone the puck found its way to Tage Thompson who ripped home a one timer that I don’t think Jimmy Howard saw until it bounced out of his net. I already gave you the incredible Tage stat a minute ago, this kid has been great and a lot of folks say it’s because he got moved to the left wing. I’ll take whatever did it because he looked like a force of nature in this game. Unfortunately later in the final frame Anthony Mantha tapped home a puck that sat in the crease behind Ullmark that Scandella couldn’t fish out in time. 2-2 game and this one goes past regulation because of course it did. I was killing my phone battery watching this game; had my battery died and I not been able to text my wife heading home she would’ve killed me. What can I say; Sabres hockey is just too important to me. Overtime was a fun little heart-racer; Buffalo even got a powerplay setting up the situation that got them the win against Montreal the night prior. Trevor Daley got a breakaway in the dying moments of OT and very nearly won it for Detroit but Linus Ullmark again! Oh haters, where are you? This one went to the shootout and I got the bartender to put it on in the connected bar full of my drunk aunts, uncles and other assorted relatives. Oh, a win here would be fun.

No goal was scored in the shootout until Andreas Athanasiou snuck it past Ullmark five-hole in the fifth round. Tage Thompson responded by keeping Buffalo in the game with your traditional waiting deke score on Howard. The confidence of Thompson is perhaps sexier than his goals. The guy dangled Howard in the most disrespectful way possible. I suppose he has a chip on his shoulder. Sam Reinhart won it in the seventh round of the shootout and the Sabres locked up first place in the whole National Hockey League. SOLE POSSESSION as my siblings laughed at my intensity about it. I saw a bar full of tipsy Italians celebrate this one and it felt so sweet. As of writing this on the Sunday following the Sabres still have first place but both Nashville and Tampa Bay have the opportunity to change that tonight and Buffalo doesn’t play again until Tuesday night at home against the San Jose Sharks. Does anyone else feel greedy yet: first in the NHL? It’s a fun redemption story but it was that at seven wins, this is just disrespectful. Who am I kidding: disrespect the shit out of this league that went on without us for the last eight years. The league is paying attention to the Buffalo Sabres and it’s not for tanking. Let’s rub their noses in it. Nine wins for the number nine Captain Jack!

Linus Ullmark won his first NHL shootout and I just want to say I think this team won in part because of him and not in spite of him. Let the haters disperse, the win streak lives on and Linus guarded it like the good prince and future king he is! Jeff Skinner held the NHL goal scoring lead for a hot minute before Patrik Laine put on a friggin clinic against St. Louis. I don’t think anyone needs to tell us at this point that Skinner is good, on pace for more than fifty goals this season. I litigated that contract point last post, no need to go back to that well. Carter Hutton is one win back of the goaltender lead in wins at 11 and Jack Eichel is tenth in points in a season he’s played his best and only scored five goals so far. Turns out assisting on the league’s second leading goal scorer can make you great too. Remember how I brought up the Sabres holding sole possession of first place in the NHL at the end of last night? Well the last time that happened they were en route to the 2007 President’s Trophy for the best regular season team. I don’t think these guys are quite that team but with a win Tuesday night they could tie that team, probably the best Sabres team ever, for the franchise’s longest win streak in a single season. That is something quite simply unbelievable.

In Wednesday’s win I went over the “Thanksgiving Playoffs” to describe how this team is making their return to the post season more doable with ever win. At this point I just don’t know what to do with these wins anymore. Celebrate them of course, I’ll be blasting EDM getting ready for the Sharks matchup, but what do I do with myself naming this blog New Look Sabres and indeed predicting this team would have a new, winning look to it? Share this blog, like it and leave a comment about how nine straight wins makes you feel. It’s totally unreal. I have all the feels and none of the feels all at once.

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Keep an ear out for Evander Kane. He may be suspended for his return to Buffalo with the Sharks given his abuse-of-an-official call in the most recent San Jose tilt.

#buffalo sabres #hockey #blog #nhl #detroit red wings

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