#that they would have to get rid of his piercings nd he just went ''NO wtf i payed for these'' nd he just

[petuniarobinson]

Statistics

tw: alcohol mention, death mention

BASICS

Full Name: Petunia Rosaleen Robinson (née Taylor) Nickname(s): Pet, Petty, Tuney Age: 57 Date of Birth: December 22nd, 1962 Zodiac Sign: Capricorn Place of Birth: Jacksonville, Florida, USA Ethnicity: Caucasian Nationality: American Gender: Cisgender Woman Pronouns: She/Her Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Romantic Orientation: Biromantic Religion: Loosely Christian Occupation: Freelance Hairdresser Financial Status: Rich AF, thanks Cornelius. Education: She has a high school diploma and went to cosmetology school Language(s) Spoken: English & Bad Spanish Accent: It’s honestly such a mixed bag. She says most things in a generic American accent (the kind you hear in every tv show) but she has lived in New Zealand and Swynlake so she’s picked some stuff up.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Face Claim: Lea Thompson Hair Color: Red (Ginger) Eye Color: Light Brown Height: 5′4″ / 162.5cm // 1′ / 30.5cm Weight: 117lbs / 53kg // 5lbs / 2.2kg Build: Lean/Muscular for her age Piercings: Ears Tattoos: None (that you can prove)

PERSONALITY

Label: Can I just say Karen? Positive Traits: Fearless, Methodical, Tidy Negative Traits: Hot-Tempered, Inflexible, Grumpy Goals/Desires: Break her curse, spend time with her family, start her own salon! Fears: Heights, Water (Swimming) Hobbies: Shopping & Singing Quirks: Well ignoring her puppet quirk when her heartrate goes up... She tends to flatten her skirt/shirt when she gets nervous or overwhelmed.

FAVORITE/LEAST FAVORITE

Colors: Petunia has a love-hate relationship with the color pink. A natural ginger, it is a color that she knows she should avoid but it reminded her of her childhood and her innocence. You will still find more light blues or minty greens in her wardrobe but she will always have a soft spot for pink.

Weather: Petunia has a love-hate relationship with the color pink. A natural ginger, it is a color that she knows she should avoid but it reminded her of her childhood and her innocence. You will still find more light blues or minty greens in her wardrobe but she will always have a soft spot for pink.

Music: Petunia is a pop kind of girl, though she loves Franny’s music as is required of all Robinsons. Top 40s Pop Music is what you’ll catch her playing most of the time while cutting hair. There is also some country music sprinkled in there but she won’t admit that it’s her music.

Movies: RomComs! Anything with a romantic plotline is her absolute favorite. Petunia knows Casablanca by heart, every word perfectly performed if you ask her. She will bear with the family watching science fiction but she often worries that, perhaps, Cornelius is just looking for crazy ideas. Not that she minds his inventions, she simply doesn’t understand them.

Beverage: Wine. Petunia is your local wine mom, it’s rare that you’ll find her drinking much else. The only other thing you can ever catch her drinking is water during one of her workouts. She has been known to dabble in protein shakes but the texture is too unbearable to do more than take a photo with and then toss. She is not on board with that fad.

Foods: Petunia tells people she’s a health nut, that she could do keto, but she’s not. She really likes sweets. In her acting days she tried not to indulge in her sweet tooth but now, when she’s not in front of a camera, she is a sucker for cookies and other pastries. She can’t help herself.

Animals: Petunia doesn’t mind animals but she’s never fully desired one, either. She admires the aesthetic of cats because they’re beautiful and aloof. She is scared of rodents and will scream dramatically at even the hint of a mouse’s tail.

HEADCANONS:

Petunia is terrible at painting. She watches her son with all of his talent and can’t help but feel a hint of envy that mixes with pride. She’s glad at least someone is using the arts to further themselves. If she couldn’t succeed in her intended field then she would do everything to help her son in his. She will paint with him if he asks and has saved every painting he has ever given her. How is she supposed to get rid of them? They’ll be worth millions one day!

Petunia Robinson doesn’t know how to swim and, at this point, she’s too afraid to ask. She hasn’t mentioned it to most of the Robinsons as she’s rather embarrassed by this. She was from Florida for god sake, she cannot be scared of the ocean! Yet here we are, 57 years old, unable to swim. She will sit in the shallow end of a pool or lounge in an inflatable kiddie pool during the summer but the ocean is made for tanning on the shore, not diving in.

Petunia learned Spanish for a role once. She’s not fluent by any means but she’s not… Well… She’s pretty terrible, actually. She thinks she’s better at it than she is. She likes to brag that she’s very cultured. She’s trying her best.

CURSE EXPLANATION

Whenever Petunia Robinson experiences an extreme emotion she will transform from a human form to a wooden puppet that is a rather crude caricature of herself. She becomes about two feet tall and can move, though it is clunky and slow. Her voice takes on a hollow wooden sound and she cannot change back until she has fully calmed down. The curse does not care if the emotion she was experiencing was positive or negative, simply the intensity. They believe it is probably linked to heart rate but they have no idea really how to control it.

FAMILY

Father: Elmer Taylor Mother: Eloise Taylor (née Page) (Deceased) Sibling(s): Joe Robinson (brother-in-law), Billie Robinson (sister-in-law) Spouse: Fritz Robinson Children: Laszlo Robinson & Tallulah Jeane Robinson Nibling(s): Cornelius Robinson (nephew), Darareaksmey Franny Sor Robinson (née Framagucci) (niece-in-law), Wilbur Robinson (grandnephew), Art Framagucci (nephew-in-law), Gaston Framagucci (nephew-in-law) Pet(s): None (that are hers at least)

TESTS

Myers-Briggs: ESTP-T Enneagram: Eight - The Challenger Hogwarts House: Slytherin Primary, Gryffindor Secondary

#[ stats ]

[evenheroesbleedastonyfanfic]

Chapter 1 “Remembrance Day”

             It’s time. He doesn’t want to but he knows he has to get up. He could hear the alarm clock blaring across the room. Silently he cursed to himself. There’s really no need for the alarm. He doesn’t sleep deep enough to need one but he keeps it anyway.

             It was Steve’s alarm.

             He tried, a thousand times, to get rid of the damned thing. But he couldn’t even find the courage to change the time on it so it didn’t go off at such an ungodly hour. God, why did he always get up so early, he thought. Every time he tries his heart contracts and he’s left shaking and drenched in sweat. So he just lives with it—even though it’s a painful reminder that Steve would never wake up early to watch the sunrise again.  

             Somehow he managed to get out of bed and get ready. It’s Remembrance Day, a day dedicated to the fallen heroes of the war against Thanos. It’s also the day Steve died. A day he would rather forget. A day he can never forget. A day no one would ever let him forget. Because as the world celebrates the bravery and sacrifice of Captain America, Iron man should always bear witness. The husband. The widower. The one he saved the world for and gave up his life.

              To Tony Stark, it was pure torture.

              He’d rather be lying down dead beside his husband. But Steve made sure he lived. That fucking bastard,” he muttered as he made his way to the helipad where the Quinjet is waiting to take him to Washington. There, he and the remaining Avengers are going to be honored for the 7th year in a row. Dead for 7 years and Steve still drives him insane. He’d give everything to have him back.

               The flight was only less than an hour but he could already feel his head throbbing.  He’ll definitely be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Good, he thought. Maybe then they’ll let him skip the ceremonies. As soon as the thought came to him he knew it was never going to happen. The world needed a symbol for their superficial annual grieving. Why they can’t understand that he is still living with the grief is beyond him. All he wants is to be left alone. He doesn’t need to be reminded of how selfless Steve was—he sees the proof in the mirror every day.

              He found Rhodey in the standby room, already finished with his coffee.

             “No Peter and Harley again?” Rhodey asked as soon as he saw Tony by himself. Tony shrugged. He’s used to going alone to this charade now. Peter refused and begged Tony not to force him to attend the ceremonies from the beginning. I can’t do it Dad! I can’t let him go! Meanwhile, Harley stopped coming after the 3rd year. If Peter doesn’t have to go, then I don’t want to go. He wanted to get mad at his children, but he knew how hard it was for them. Things weren’t exactly peachy between Peter and Steve when Steve died. Steve was still trying to make amends for leaving him for Bucky. Peter, who was old enough to understand what his Pops had done, couldn’t forgive him.

             “Isn’t this supposed to start at 8? Where is everybody?” he asked, changing the subject. Before Rhodey could reply the door opened and in came Nat and Sam.

             “Bruce isn’t coming,” Nat spat. “And so is Thor. It’s just the four of us today. I can’t believe those shitheads, missing something this important!”

             Tony and Rhodey exchanged curious looks. Natasha is in one of her moods—something they’ve seen getting more frequent over the years. She used to be one of the hardest people to read but ever since she lost Steve, the person she trusted the most, she had become temperamental and careless. Sam subtly signaled them not to engage with her. And they didn’t. Tony had no desire to further agitate his already massive headache. Hesilently wondered how Sam could tolerate her temper tantrums. Maybe the rumours about them being a couple now are true. Whatever. It wasn’t really not his concern. As long as Sam is there to make sure Natasha doesn’t go off the edge he could care less about their status. He just wants to get this event over with so he could go home and sleep.

             These days nothing hardly ever happens in the world. Yes, they still had the occasional nuisance. But nothing major enough to require the services of the Avengers. They’ve become nothing but figureheads. Perhaps the hullabaloo with Thanos wore out would be bad guys. He couldn’t decide if it was a bad thing. Yes, they had peace. But all he wanted was peace of mind. And since he couldn’t really get that he craved distraction—which is so hard to come by these days.

             Tony silently thanked the heavens when one of the organizers finally fetched them. The presidents were already onstage. It was show time.

               Skies were blue. There was a gentle breeze. Everything looked and felt perfect.

              Fuck me. It was all Tony could think.

              Fuck me. Fuck you. This is all your fault you selfish sonafabitch.

              They were playing a tribute video for Captain America. The background music was deep and sweeping and full of drama. It was supposed to bring tears to everyone’s eyes. He didn’t need an audiovisual cue. All he needed to do was think of his husband’s smiling face, the one he will never see again, and he is lost. Lost in an ocean. Adrift and drowning at the same time.

              His memories took him to the night he first met Steve in person.

              He grew up in the shadow of the super soldier. Steve Rogers. Captain America. All his father could talk about while he was growing up was this man who was the very definition of hero. A man who was so selfless he died to save literally the whole world. To Tony he was like the perfect older brother whose perfectly timed death cemented his place on a pedestal. An older brother he was striving to be, while secretly hating on because he could never be him. He resented him, even though he was nothing but a memory. So when he found out from Fury that Captain America had just been recovered and revived, he just had to see him. He wanted to know if his resentment was misguided. He never imagined that seeing Steve for the first time would take his breath away. He was the most beautiful human being he had ever seen.

              He was still lost in that memory when the first explosion went off.

             “Get the presidents out of here!!!” he heard Rhodey scream. It took him a couple of seconds to register what was going on around them. Another explosion was heard, followed by rapid gun shots.

             “Tony! TONY! Get your head out of your ass! We’re under attack!” Natasha was already running towards the end of the street where the explosion came from. Sam was already airborne, ahead of the swat team assigned to this event. It was pandemonium everywhere.

             He stood frozen for a second.

             Shit.

             And then his muscle memory activated.

             “Friday, get me my suit,” he spoke to his AI. Nowadays he doesn’t wear the automated suit that lets him gear up in seconds. It’s always just nearby though, in this case, in the Quinjet.

             “Already on its way, boss,” his AI replied. A minute later he felt the familiar weight of metal around his skin. It has been so long since he was dressed this way. It almost feels uncomfortable.

             “Look mom! It’s Ironman! He’s back!” he heard a kid scream while he was being dragged away by his mother to safety. The word seemed so foreign.

             “Tony? Are you suited?” he heard Rhodey through his coms.

             “Yeah. Where are you?”

             “I’m escorting the presidents. Sam and Nat are headed east.”

             “Do you have visuals on the bomber?”

             “Bombers. And they’re armed to the teeth—“

              Another explosion shakes them. This time, near the Lincoln Memorial.

              ”Fuck!” Nat’s curse rang in his ear and another memory ate at him.

              Language. The first few years of Captain America’s 2nd life was a source of fond memories. His propriety and naivety gave them all quite a few laughs. But he was also a great leader.

              “I’m on my way to the 2nd location,” he said. He flew towards the Lincoln Memorial, suddenly alert and focused.

              “Tony, please be careful,” said Rhodey.

              “Of course,” he replied. He wanted to be offended but knew his friend only meant well. He knew Rhodey thinks he’s emotionally compromised.

              Nothing could have prepared him for the devastation he found. He smelled and heard it before he saw it. Bodies everywhere. Death. Destruction. The screams of people in pain or running away were piercing. He surveyed the area, looking for the bomber, but all he saw were more bodies, dead and alive. It never used to derail him whenever they were in battle. Sure, he grieved after every fight but during the fight, all he focused on was the enemy.

              He struggled to keep alert.

              “Tony, do you have visuals on the perps?”

              “No, not yet—“

              “HELP! SOMEONE HELP US!”

              A voice steals his attention.

              No. It can’t be.

              “Please! I need help!”

              He followed the voice, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

              “Please, someone, anyone! Help us!”

              There’s ringing in his ears—but the voice was crystal clear. He knew that voice.

              He searched frantically. He didn’t care that the bomber had been forgotten suddenly. All he cared about was that voice. He cannot be mistaken.

              Steve.

              It was Steve’s voice.

              “Help!”

              “Tony, what’s going on?” he heard Rhodey. But he dared not reply, afraid that speaking would break it—whatever spell it was that was letting him hear his dead husband’s voice so clearly.

              “Tony?!”

              He turned off his coms.

              Where are you? Oh God, please let me find him—

              And he did.

#stony #stony fic #stonyfic #stony fanfiction #captain america #ironman #iron man #spiderman #avengers #black widow #falcon #steve rogers #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #rhodey #tragedy #drama

[agreementtale]

Chapter 26: For now you will face

He was stress cleaning, putting too much strength on the balcony, trying to get rid of a dark spot that never really managed to get properly clean.

Normally that sight alone would be enough to Sans make himself scarce for the rest of the day.

More concerning than that… Boss was in full armor.

It was past lunch, he either just got here from nightshift and was so incredibly stressed he had to clean before even eating…

Or he was about to leave for work, but too stressed to get out of the house without leaving everything spotless.

Sans would be an idiot if he as much as breathed near Boss in the state he was in.

Sans was an idiot, tenfold.

“Boss… ‘s just a free-EXP… ‘s still on stripes...” a stupid kid that would get hurt from too much pepper on their burger, but ate it anyway.

“SHUT UP, SANS!” he didn’t stop to look at him, still keeping himself busy “DO YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?”

Boss’ cellphone signaled a warning light, someone was walking from Snowdin to Waterfall, Sans cursed himself internally, he knew they looked too focused today, his brother looked up and dismissed the notification, cleaning the darkened spot even more vigorously.

“I HAVEN’T ATTACKED THEM YET, HAVE I?” he could bet Boss already knew who that notification was about “THEY WERE WALKING AROUND THE TOWN VERY MUCH ALIVE FOR THE ENTIRE WEEK LAST I’VE HEARD”

“and they’ve been good”

He had been watching them, as his brother told him to, they had just eaten breakfast on Grillby’s and traded jokes, like every day for the past week, they were good, he had nothing bad to report, not even a petty crime or a single encounter gone wrong.

“didn’t hurt a single–/”

“I SAID SHUT UP!” Papyrus turned fully to him with a deep scowl, with the uniform on, the height difference between the brothers more apparent than ever.

“s-sorry Boss” he wanted nothing more than to teleport to his room, to look away and make himself smaller, but he knew he had to stay where he was and keep looking at his brother’s eyelights. For the good or for the bad.

“I WANT TO HEAR NOTHING OF THIS” it was Boss that broke the stare when he started to pace around “I’M A ROYAL GUARD, THE KING IS COUNTING ON ME TO NOT LET ANY HUMAN PASS SNOWDIN” his angry steps were loud and his fists were clenched “IF THEY FACE ME I WILL KILL THEM, AND BE THE HERO THAT BROUGHT THE SEVENTH SOUL TO FREE ALL MONSTERKIND!” Sans didn’t doubt it “CAN’T YOU BE HAPPY FOR ME SANS?” Papyrus turned again to him, an air of disappointment with a hint of hurt that he tried to hide behind all the rage “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO TRY TO SABOTAGE ME?”

“that’s not…” he would never, ever do anything to sabotage Boss.

“DON’T YOU WANT ME TO SUCCEED?”

“I do…” with all his soul.

“THEN WHY ARE YOU NOT CHOOSING MY SIDE?” he stomped the ground “BUT THE SIDE OF THE ENEMY? A HUMAN OF ALL THINGS! THE ONE THAT TRAPPED US ALL HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE” he was pacing again, now with wide arm movements.

“I ain’t allying to the humanity, Boss” he flinched a bit when one of the hands passed too close to his direction, but Boss was just walking “ ‘s-‘s just this one little kid... ‘s not their fault...they weren’t even born! ‘nd they not just a free-EXP, they’re… good… kind…” They remember him of little Boss, how he used to be.

Refusing to fight because he thought that was the right thing to do, striving to making friends, even if the other kids treated him with disrespect, little by little making the people of Snowdin trust him.

He felt his brother’s eyelights piercing the back of his skull, careful, attentive, thoughtful. He had to have noticed the semblance too, maybe it would matter, maybe just a little.

His brother had stopped pacing around the room.

The silence was deafening.

Slowly, he heard him walking closer.

“ARE YOU ON MY SIDE OR ON THEIRS?” Sans turned immediately, looking his brother straight on the eyelights.

“on yers, always” he said without a hint of doubt or hesitation.

“I WILL KILL IT, SANS, DO YOU HEAR ME?” the look on his face, Boss had made his mind.

“yes, Boss” and when he did, there was nothing Sans could say that would change it.

“ARE YOU ON MY SIDE?” Boss eyed him, tauntingly “WILL YOU FIGHT FOR ME?” he knew the answer “WILL YOU KILL FOR ME, SANS?” for all the stars, he had to know the answer.

“course, Boss” he would, always, no matter what “ya never have to ask me that”

His brother always would come first. There was nowhere to run, if Boss told him to kill the kid, no promise would stop him from tearing them apart.

At least if he did it, it would be quick, old gal had to forgive him… or not...

It’s not like he wasn’t used to losing friends over impossible decisions like this one, that’s just how things were on the underground.

“GOOD” with that single word a weight was lifted from Sans soul, Boss knew, he knew Sans would always have his back, he closed his eyes in both relief and resignation.

Now was the moment Boss would make him prove himself useful by–/

“STAY ON THE HOUSE” what? “YOU ARE NOT TO LEAVE THIS COUCH UNTIL I COME BACK” Papyrus walked to the door, leaving him behind, confused and uncertain.

“ya don’t want me to...” Boss knew, right? He knew Sans would do it. That he wouldn’t screw this up on purpose.

“IF YOU SO MUCH AS MOVE” his gloved hand gripped the door with so much pressure the wood creaked “I WILL PUNISH YOU, AM I CLEAR?”

“yes, Boss” with a final glare the door closed shut. Sans laid on the couch… welp… “I’ll just lay around...”

At least it would make his job easier, he didn’t want to kill the human, seemed a nice kid, even liked puns… it was a waste… but there was nothing he could do. Once Boss put something on his mind there was no way out of it.

He closed his eyes, now it was the perfect time for a long nap, maybe by the time he woke up his brother would be a hero and they would be crossing the barrier… Maybe he would be happy then.

Sounded like a nice dream.

~*~

“Didn’t you want to talk with MK a bit more?” Flowey asked, hoping the question would slow them down “It seem like the two of you are this close to becoming friends”

“I did my best, and honestly, I think every time we talk I do something that makes them hate me a tad more”

“That’s just for appearances” they were getting close to crack them “I know them, you are doing a good job, just need more time”

“Well, thank you” they looked pleased for the praise, as he expected, but quickly amended “but I spent too long on daily quests, have to go back to the main quest sooner or later”

“So” ignoring the weird way they phrased that sentence he continued “You know Dogamy? I’m pretty sure I saw him training how to do the pet thing you show them, I bet with a little practice you could teach him how to pet!” the way he made a paw movement on the air when he thought no one could see him and looked at whatever direction his mate was, it looked like he was gathering courage to attempt something.

“That’s awesome!” they got excited, as expected, time to his next move.

“So why don’t you go to their post and encourage him?” he offered, but their expression fell.

“That’s like, the opposite direction, you know” they said, using both of their hands to pointing to the directions, like he didn’t know what ‘opposite’ meant! They would drive him insane.

“Who is gonna teach him then?” He tried to remain calm.

“He is a good dog, he will figure it out” that would get him nowhere, he had to think about something a little less – he knew what.

“How was your lunch with Sans?” He wasn’t fond of the shorter skeleton, but they were “Did he tell any joke?” it had been a pain in the ass going all the time to Grillby’s and having to hear the two stupid talking.

They laughed without a care in the world “Of course!” the only reason he didn’t convinced them to miss the encounters was because the skeleton was providing them food, he was probably in charge of watching them, and found an excuse to be at Grillby’s at the same time “Is Sans we are talking about”

“So you like his jokes” the two didn’t talk about anything else, just the dumb jokes. He guessed this was motive enough for the skeleton to want them alive, he didn’t have any friends that didn’t want to kill him, he must think the human is safe enough to just enjoy their company.

“They are a bit heavy, but nothing I can’t take, he is really good at making me relax. And the food” they moved their arms excessively, making the boot sway “Ah, the food! Almost, very close to a perfect burger, if there was only a way to take the pepper off! But Sans said that the ingredients are spicy and not just the sauce” they loved their food, he could use that.

“Aren’t you excited to eat there tomorrow?” that did make them stop walking.

They looked at him confused “I won’t” again pointed to where they were going “We are going to be in Waterfalls tomorrow, I can’t just go back for lunch”

When he didn’t answer they just went back to walking again.

They were way past the brother’s house.

The snow was starting to fall heavier.

“Put me down”

They startled, immediately crouching and putting the boot on the ground.

“Sorry, did I say something?” they were worried “I didn’t meant to” so annoying…

“Why are you apologizing?” he knew how he sounded, he didn’t care.

“Because you look like you are going to disappear again”

They weren’t wrong.

He sighed heavily, thinking how he could say this in a way that they would listen.

He didn’t have his power anymore, he only had one chance at this conversation… maybe he could start with that?

“Look” he never had been honest with them, maybe this could work “This… power you have…” they had never asked either, it had been easy to ignore the subject.

He had never asked why they had never asked… someone had to come clean at some point.

“Before you fell down, I could save and reset, just like you do” just like he wished he could do right now “But apparently there can only be one person with this power at the time, so, now you have it” he looked them in the eyes.

They were listening very closely, none of the usual reverie, their eyes were focused and a bit too intense for his taste, but at least he knew that they were not going to get lost on their thoughts right now.

“My point is” how he put that in the right words? “There is just so much you can die before… a part of you breaks”

“You’re worried about me?” the usual softness of their voice was absent, their expression still unusually serious, if not a bit surprised.

He turned to look at them angrily “Can you let me speak?” he didn’t like when they were being weird “I don’t interrupt you so much when you are taking forever to say a simple sentence!”

They lifted their hands in submission “Ok, take your time” their smile softening their expression.

He huffed, he didn’t have time for this “My point is, you are too stupid to change your mind, but you don’t have a choice! It will happen whether you want it or not” he pointed a leaf to the ground “I’ve been here before you” then to their face “I’ve done what you are trying to do” then to his stem “and I can tell you”

They had to listen to him.

“I know Papyrus! And there is NO WAY” he yelled to make a point “he lets you walk to Waterfalls. He knows you are a human, he knows where you’re going, he will kill you” the last part he said slowly, with all the weight the information deserved “You have three options here”

He tried to mimic their antics, to see if at least this way they would understand. He didn’t had fingers to lift, but he had vines, and the ability to control them. He usually only used two, but to make a point he could make a third one.

He extended his right vine, and made sure it grew in three different directions, extending it in front of them, like a hand.

With effort he made only one of the extensions drop. It was the opposite of what they did, lifting their fingers, but it was easier than having the vines grow at will.

“One, you can reset, all the way from when you first fell, so, when you leave the ruins, he don’t find out you’re a human”

Their face scrunched at this one “And make Mom forget us? Make her miserable all over again? Absolutely not”

He dropped the second vine, this time having to concentrate to keep the last one up “You can go another time, when we know he is busy and can’t confront you”

“He is always ready, you said it yourself” He was, he hadn’t left the path unattended since they got here, he had even switched the training sessions to times they were usually asleep or resting.

“You can calm down a bit and avoid him” he dropped the final vine, retreating it to his stem “Find another way to get there, like, all the ways I suggested before” they were bound to find the Riverperson at some point, they just had to wait for some monster to take the ferry, no one liked to go on that boat alone, so the chanced they would be killed were minimal.

“Flowey, I know is difficult to understand, but I know I have to do this, I have to face him, or I won’t be able to free all monsters”

“You stubborn idiot. He will kill you!”

“I can take it” they foolishly insisted.

“He won’t let you pass” he didn’t want them to do this.

“I’ll find a way” but they didn’t care.

“I know you will!” he didn’t want to be in this position “But will you do whatever it takes to get there?” Why did he had to choose?

“Of course!” and that right there was the problem…

Talking was useless now “Then I’ll meet you on the other side” they were overconfident, they wouldn’t believe unless they saw it for themselves.

“Why are you so heartbroken over this?” They looked like someone that cared, they didn’t, he knew they didn’t “You know me, you’ve seen me doing this since the Ruins” If they cared about what he wanted they would listen to him, like he told them to “I’ll be fine”

“I know”

They would ‘be fine’.

“I know you, maybe better than yourself” He knew their soul could be strong under the right motivation “And that’s why I know that whatever I say, you’ll still walk out there to fight him anyway” strong and stubborn.

“And I’ll get to Waterfalls, and the barrier, and free all monsters no matter what” he mimicked their sentence, mouthing every word, he had heard them saying this since day one. They stopped when they noticed, he used this moment to talk again.

“And I’m not heartbroken” he was impassive, he literally felt nothing “I just…” but that didn’t mean he had to like what would happen next “Don’t want to see” they just didn’t know enough of this world to understand it, like he did, he smiled weakly, not looking at their attentive eyes “my best friend dying”

“I’ll be fine”

“I know” there was no relief on his admission, again he wasn’t able to change the outcome “I’ll wait for you on the tall grass”

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#AgreementTale #undertale #AGF!Sans #AGF!Papyrus #AGF!Human #AGF!Flowey #fanfiction #archieve of our own #long fic

[restlessjourneyor-blog]

A PCT through-hiker, a hippie family, and fellow a Hoosier

After I dropped Mom off at the Medford airport at the conclusion of our 4-day road trip Oregon-bound, I came to realization that for all intents and purposes, I was slightly, kinda sorta…. homeless. My future field partner and I had been looking for places to live in Medford, Central Point, and Talent, in hopes of finding a month-to-month place to live for the 4-month duration of our job. I quickly learned that finding housing, at least in southern Oregon, was HARD. Fresh out of college, where you walk down the street and see almost every house/apartment for rent, this was a wake-up call.

I knew of hostels in Ashland, another nearby city in my area. I fortunately scored a bed for two nights in the Ashland Commons, a SWEET, tidy, mural dotted hostel located in the heart of Ashland. After exploring downtown Ashland for a bit, stopping by a farmer’s market to stock some fresh strawberries in my cooler (my only food supply) I parked in the hostel parking lot for some reorganization time. My car was a mess after having lived out of it for 4 days…

At the conclusion of “gear Tetris” in the Hyundai, I chilled on the top bunk, decompressing after hours of traveling. I meandered out into the kitchen after I heard the tell-tale clanking of dishes and thud of footsteps.

**I should take this moment to point out the fact that I am a hopeless romantic (I place 90% of the blame of Nicholas Sparks, whose books I read as though they were the only form of writing that existed back in the early 2000s). So, when I decided to stay in a hostel I had written my love story in my mind, one involving mysterious (and attractive, of course) world traveler who was also stopping by that hostel for a night’s stay, whom with I would then fall madly in love and the rest of days would be spent traveling the world together. Needless to say, my life is NOT a Nicholas Sparks novel, so instead of meeting my soulmate, I met Rambler.

A PCT through-hiker, Rambler was a wealth of knowledge about the dos and don’ts of the trail, as well as the gear that was the best. He was also full of stories woven by threads of humor, heartbreak, and advice (if one chose to see it that way). From Rambler, I learned (or was reminded) that life is hard, and Nature offers a unique comfort to sadness in a its vast forests and miles and miles of trails. He was on his 2nd time through the PCT, driven to the outdoors by divorce, as he searched for an outlet for his pain. He also taught me that $1.50 mosquito nets from Walmart are just as good as $30 mosquito nets from a name brand, and that the plastic used for window covering in house projects, works as a perfect mat to protect your tent or sleeping bag. I find that most things in fact, are this way: less complicated and not as they seem.

As a PCT trail hiker, minimal is maximal. Meaning, the less the better. Rambler was too the point of cutting tags out of his clothes just to save that extra 0.05 ounce, because it all adds up and it’s useless anyways, right? The duct tape trick involves putting pieces of duct tape on all of your pieces of gear, only to be removed when the gear was used. What a simple lesson to remind us to get rid of the duct taped things in our real lives (90% of my taped items would be clothes).

If I ever find myself near the Bishop Hostel in California, I know to forego the high-class dinner (or in my case McDonald’s) and head to the bowling alley instead for a lobster dinner…who would have thought?

I dropped Rambler off at one of the PCT trailheads outside of Ashland (saved him a 14-mile walk). It was great to get to know him, and I wish him the best of luck on what I have learned to be a rather treacherous PCT this year.

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As I was chatting with Rambler another hostel inhabitant entered the conversation. Seemingly in an unspoken competition for the most interesting “divorce stories” I learned more about these people than I asked to. And I have found that to be a common theme among the people I speak to. I, myself, am the opposite. More often than not, I avoid any “self-topics”, or personal professions that clue the fellow conversationalist into how I think, or what has happened to me during my life.

Yet, there I was, sitting at the kitchen table, more or less an observer of these people’s seemingly tragic life stories. The other hotel inhabitant was one of three guests in the same family. She, her son, and her boyfriend (the boy’s father). The mother was the sweetest women. One of those types of people who wears the smile of someone enjoying life every second of everyday. Aside from divorce stories, she also bent my ear with tales of the adventures she had been on, and the places she had lived. Her boyfriend (a spitting image of one of the contestants on Survivor from this past season), had one of the most piercing gazes I have ever experienced. On a side note, I felt as though he was analyzing your soul instead of just listening to the words I spoke. I never saw the man wear shoes. In a traditional hippie fashion, he was shoe-less 24/7. These people were the salt of the earth, and I was sad to s e them go. They left me with a pleasant hostel experience and the recipe for the best almond pudding.

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Upon returning to the hostel on my first night I met the new guest, with whom I also happened to be sharing a room. She was only staying in the hostel for a couple of nights as she had decided to keep her belongings in a storage unit and to camp instead of spending money on other housing (super badass). Weirdest part…. she was from Indiana. She went to IU and had spent most of her life in the Midwest (seriously, what are the odds). However, she had called the west her home for the past couple years, working seasonal environmental science positions. We chatted science and biology, as we strolled through the famed Lithia Park. Forestry her specialty, she pointed out trees and plants for me to learn.

We chatted about traveling, and the places we had been. As we swapped mountain backpacking stories we pondered what it would be like to overcome the ‘veil of disbelief’ that is traditionally our involuntary response to seeing a sight that takes your breath away, and renders you unable to  cannot fully comprehend its reality. I spoke of standing at the edge of Black Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park, in disbelief, as we overlooked the “photoshopped” snow-covered mountains, plunging gorges, and pine forests, as the strength of wind held my body up. My inability to completely fathom what I was seeing almost inhibited my ability to enjoy it, or to even convey it to those who were not there in the moment. She surmised that if we were ever able to “overcome the veil of disbelief” it would be an otherworldly experience. I fear that we might never be able to achieve this feat. Good food for thought…I might argue that any attempt to achieve this goal of overcoming the veil might be futile, as the more we see, the more we wouldn’t be able to believe that is was possible for all of this to exist.