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#what a mixed bag some green and very very red flags
desire-mona · 2 months
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my white girl kinlist as requested by green
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this includes (top left to bottom right)
gwen stacy (spiderverse)
ladybird (ladybird)
envy adams (scott pilgrim)
kusuo saiki (saiki k)
annie edison (community)
claire (fleabag)
neil perry (dead poets society)
john keating (dead poets society)
diona (genshin impact)
papyrus (undertale)
sans (undertale)
allison cameron (house md)
todd anderson (dead poets society)
mona megistus (genshin impact)
troy barnes (community)
abed nadir (community)
sayaka maizono (danganronpa)
bold = HEAVY kin
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babblydrabbly · 3 years
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Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut
Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader
Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin
Rating: M
Word Count: 3.5k+
Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.
Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.
A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.
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"Again?"
Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.
"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"
You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.
You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.
"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."
You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.
So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.
"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"
"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.
"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.
"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"
Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.
You frowned. Without the suit on?
Were you still staring down at his thighs?
You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.
Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...
You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.
But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.
You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.
The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.
"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.
"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.
You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.
You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.
"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.
"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.
"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"
He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.
"God, never mind."
He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.
In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.
"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.
"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.
"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."
"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"
Shit. Shit!
You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"
"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."
"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.
Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.
"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."
"Excuse me?"
"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"
You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.
"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."
You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."
"What? Am I fucking wrong?"
"No, you're fucking crazy."
"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.
The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.
It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.
You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.
Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.
"Well?" You said.
He shrugged, "Your call."
"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"
"Hey, if that's what it takes."
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."
Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.
"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.
"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.
He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."
That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."
"I didn't look."
"You didn't look."
"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."
"Wow. How courteous."
"Fuck you."
"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.
"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"
He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."
Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.
He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.
"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.
But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.
You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.
Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.
He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.
You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.
"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.
Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.
"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.
"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."
You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.
Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."
"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.
"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.
"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—
"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.
He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.
Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.
"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.
It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.
Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.
When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.
“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.
The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.
“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.
You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.
“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.
“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.
And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.
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berriusagi · 3 years
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Stomach Bug Ch7
Family Bonding: Jason
It’s my birthday so thought I’d give everyone this chapter early! I hope you all enjoy it I look forward to any comments or suggestions you have for the future chapters.
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If anyone was to ask Marinette how she found herself standing in a private gun range with a heavy pistol in hand aimed downrange at a cardboard cutout of a deranged clown she would have no idea how to answer. Jason was standing behind her leaning down to show her how to properly aim, fixing her grip and stance before holding her shoulders.
“Alright Pixie whenever you’re ready just pull the trigger.” Jason nodded straightening up once he was sure she was ready.
Marinette nodded, taking a slow deep breath before pulling the trigger. A loud bang sounded through the room as Marinette gently set the gun down. She turned looking up at Jason as she took her earplugs out. “How’d I do?” she asked.
Jason hummed squinting his eyes trying to see, “I don’t know if you hit it,” he said, stepping around to walk on the range to get a better look at the cutout. “Yeah sorry pixie doesn’t look like you hit it,” he shouted heading back to stand behind her.
“I told you I’m not that familiar with guns. It's next to impossible to get a gun let alone shoot one in Paris.” Marinette said putting her ear plus back in as Jason picked the gun up.
“That’s why I’ll teach you to shoot,” Jason grinned, fixing his safety glasses before unloading the clip into the cutout. Marinette watched as small groupings gathered around the forehead, heart, and groin. “It just takes a bit of practice and a steady hand and you’ll be a natural in no time.” He smiled as he fired the last bullet before setting the gun down.
“I’m just not sure if guns are my thing,” Marinette said as Jason walked onto the range again to pick up the cut out and bring it back so they could examine the groupings, “I never took an interest in firearms, though most weapons are illegal in Paris.”
“Really? What about self-defense?” Jason asked looking down at Marinette.
“Most people would have pepper spray but it had to be less than 100 milliliters.” She shrugged, “I usually had a small can in my purse just in case luckily I only ever had to use it once.”
“Oh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “What happened to make you do that?”
 “The heroes back home were sociable. Ladybug would give interviews and Chat Noir liked to joke with the public. Chat made a habit of dropping by my room to hang out and just talk; sometimes it was just chilling, other times he wanted advice. He was a great guy really it helped break up the routine you know.” She smiled leaning on the wall, helping Jason load bullets into the clips, “Eventually he started just coming into my room through my skylight and hung out on my chaise lounge until I got home if I wasn’t there.”
“That’s a red flag if I ever saw one,” Jason muttered, setting a clip down.
“Yeah well, I was lonely at the time my class was shunning me so any social interaction was a welcomed one. I didn’t mind though I did find it annoying when he’d try and bug me to get into Ladybug’s good graces.” She sighed rolling her eyes, “I managed to set up an interview with Ladybug for one of my ex-friends and Chat thought we were such good friends so I could put in a good word for him. I told him I wouldn’t and that Ladybug probably just wasn’t interested and he should respect that.”
“I’m guessing no one ever taught him to take no for an answer?” Jason asked looking over at Marinette as she just shrugged.
“I guess, he had it stuck in his head that he and Ladybug were soulmates because of their miraculous’ no matter how many times I or Ladybug explained that it didn’t work like that. Everything came to a head after the fall of Hawkmoth. He was publicly revealed along with Mayura, his partner, both were arrested and their families suffered from the fallout.” She set down her finished clip and crossed her arms over her chest, “Chat Noir paid me a visit about a month or so after, he… he wasn’t looking too good.”
Jason set down the gun he was working on and moved to stand beside Marinette placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I told you he had a habit of just coming into my room to wait for me,” she said her voice going a bit soft as she glanced up at Jason, “My room was a converted attic space with a balcony that you access through the skylight. To get into my room you climbed a ladder and entered through a trapdoor, it’s a good space for privacy but it’s not so great if you have to escape.”
Jason tightened his hold on her gently pulling her into his side rubbing her back arm.
“When I came up I saw my skylight was open so Chat had to be in there but I didn’t see him, that made me a little worried but I chose not to listen to it and came up anyway. Once I was fully in he closed the door and trapped me inside, he… he looked different less… stable his eyes, which normally because of the Miraculous were a toxic green, looked bloodshot like he’d been crying. He wasn’t moving with the same playful easy steps he looked unbalanced. Everything just felt wrong like this wasn’t going to end well.”
“I reached for the pepper spray I keep in my bag and had it at the ready just in case and I tried talking to him. I asked him what was wrong, I asked him why he looked so unsettled, I tried just talking to him to get a response, but he wouldn’t even look in my direction. It was like it pained him to even look at me. Eventually, he did look at me and he was just crying, he was apologizing over and over and his words made no sense. I was terrified. He made me feel like he was going to do something awful. It was like he wasn’t anything like the same person.”
Jason slid down the wall to be eye level with Marinette squeezing a bit tighter to give her comfort as she tried to find the words to continue.
“He looked at me, no he looked through me it felt like and just lunged at me. I was so scared I just sprayed him without thinking and quickly jumped out of the way. I remember hearing him scream in pain and rubbing at his eyes as he cried. It’s burned into my memory he looked at me with such pain and sorrow on his face I felt awful for what I did. The pepper spray just fell from my hands and without thinking I grabbed a scrap of fabric and some water and started to clean his face. I just couldn’t stand and watch him suffer.”
“You’re better than most Pixie,” Jason muttered, patting her shoulder.
“Chat revealed himself,” She said before quickly rushing to correct herself when she felt Jason’s body tense, “Not like that! I mean he took off the mask he showed me who his civilian self was. He dropped the transformation and revealed himself to be a boy I knew quite well and he was the son of Hawkmoth. It made so much sense then, he… he was suffering so much having to fight a war against his father. Then when the war is over he still has to fight to prove his own innocents, it had to have just been too much.”
“He took off his miraculous and gave it to me, told me to give it to Ladybug. He didn’t think Ladybug would want anything to do with him if she saw who he was. If she knew he was the son of the man they were trying to take down, he said it would break him worse to see her hate him or worse pity him.”
“So he gave his miraculous to you, someone who has some connection to Ladybug, to get it somewhere safe.” Jason hummed leaning his head back against the wall, “How is he doing?”
“A few weeks later he left Paris and moved in with his aunt and cousin. He was a good guy just mixed up with the wrong people, he was very sheltered and was raised to be seen not heard. I debate some days on reaching out to him, seeing how he’s doing, maybe catch up and rebuild the friendship we had. He’s dating one of my friends and she occasionally gives me updates about him that she thinks I need to know.”
“Well, Pixie if you ask me I say shoot him a text. He trusted you enough to unmask himself and show his most vulnerable side to you. If there’s one thing I know is that you keep those loyal to you close, I don’t know the full story with this guy. He might have hurt you, he might not have but he came to you at his weakest and trusted you enough to help him.” He said straightening up and pulled her into a firm hug, “I know you’ll make the right choice for you, I feel like you got a good handle on making the right choices.”
“Thanks, Jay,” she smiled hugging him back, “You have any other guns we can shoot, maybe I’m just not good with handguns.”
“I like the way you think Pixie.” He grinned pushing off the wall and went over to the gun cabinet opening it wide for her to see the array of handguns, rifles, and shotguns for them to choose from, “Alright pixie, pick your poison.”
~.~.~.~
“You make absolutely no sense you know that right Pixie?” Jason asked watching as Marinette grinned up at him after landing a headshot on another deranged clown cut out with the shotgun. “I mean the kickback alone on that thing should be sending you back.” He said as Marinette set the gun down giggling at Jason’s confusion.
“Well with shotgun it doesn’t have to be as accurate right?” she asked, rubbing her shoulder, “It’s scattershot so it makes it more forgiving.”
“I guess but let’s call it on that before you bust up your shoulder or bruise it.” He said taking the shotgun storing it away in the gun cabinet as Alfred came in to check on them.
“Master Jason, Miss Marinette are you two having fun?” Alfred asked, noticing all the empty shells on the floor.
“Yeah, Jason just showed me how to shoot a shotgun.” Marinette smiled, “Though my shoulder is a bit sore now.” She said rubbing it a bit harder wincing at the deep ache.
“Perhaps you two should call it quits for today and do something less… explosive.” Alfred offered, “All this gunfire can’t be good for the baby let alone quiet. I heard the shotgun from the other side of the manor.” He added before leaving.
“Well,” Jason hummed, closing the cabinet, “We should run.” He grinned picking Marinette up and broke into a dead sprint out of the gun range and through the winding halls. Marinette held on tightly a surprised shout echoing through the halls as he skidded around a corner before running for the other side of the manor.
“Just how big is this place?” Marinette asked looking around wide-eyed as they raced through the halls.
“I don’t know but I’m like 80 percent sure if someone broke in here it’d take them a week to find their way out.” Jason joked as he slowed down to a large set of double doors gently pushing the doors open before closing them tightly behind him before gently setting Marinette down on her feet, “We should be safe here for a little while though at least until Alfred comes to find us for dinner.”
“Where is here?” Marinette asked looking around a soft gasp coming from her mouth as she saw all the books lining the shelves.
“Welcome to my favorite place, the Wayne Manor Library.” Jason smiled walking to one of the shelves and plucked a book off before finding a comfortable plush chair to relax in, “Have a look around, find something to read, or if you want there are puzzles and board games in that cabinet over there.” He added motioning to a cabinet in the corner.
Marinette wandered around the shelves looking over the books, she noticed some were much more loved than others as they have visible use while others looked to be brand new. She eventually settled on a well-loved adventure book and carried it back over to the chairs and took a seat near Jason as she curled up to read.
The following few hours were much calmer than the previous bonding activity, instead of a loud bang to hurt the ears there were jokes and laughs about the antics the protagonists in their books got up to. Marinette smiled from her position lying upside down on the chair with her head hanging off as she read lines from her book. 
“Before you leave Gabriel may I offer you some key advice before you go to visit the Sirodanes?” Marinette spoke her voice lowered and accented to sound like a Viking man, “Take a larger cart they value strength as well.” she finished before bursting into giggles.
“So wait,” Jason chuckled looking over at her, “Gabriel and Eclipse are leaving the Vryhuns with a big cart just full of presents, and the Thane is telling them they need a bigger one?” he smiled.
“Yeah from what I gathered the Vryhun are really big on strength and bravery which Eclipse had in spades so everyone was trying to court her, so they all gave her presents. It’s rude to just turn them down or throw them away so instead they’re taking them with them.” Marinette giggled sitting up and closed the book setting it aside, “Though if the Sirodanes are the same I feel a bit sorry for Eclipse she’ll never get any peace from the suitors.”
“I don’t know, maybe she likes the attention I mean, she stuck around Gabriel and all he seems to do is fawn over her and shower her in praise.” Jason said, closing his book and set it aside, “Who’s to say she isn’t using all these presents to make Gabriel jealous.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrow.
“Oh what a semi-immortal woman can’t hang around an eccentric man who is determined to explore some hidden islands in the middle of uncharted waters?” Marinette asked, raising an eyebrow, “Not everyone has to date you know, and besides I don’t think Gabriel could handle Eclipse in a romantic setting.”
“Eh you got me there she seems really dominant.” Jason chuckled leaning back in his seat, “Though which did you like more sitting here reading or shooting?”
“Hmm I like both; this was a nice way to wind down after the shooting and I got to find a new book series to read.” She smiled looking at the book, “Do you have the others?”
“Probably unless the author is still working on them.” He shrugged, getting up from his seat and grabbing his books, going over to the shelves to put them away. Marinette relaxed in her chair taking a deep breath as she sunk into the plush cushions further the calm and quiet helping to lull her into a semi-conscious state.
Jason came back after a while noticing Marinette barely awake and smiled grabbing a blanket and set it over her before taking his seat again and picked up another book nearby to keep reading. The library fell into a soft silence with only Marinette’s gentle breathing and the occasional rustle of paper as Jason turned the pages.
~.~.~.~
“Now tell me why you thought it would be wise to leave Todd alone with Marinette.” Damian grit out through clenched teeth as he gripped his sword tightly. “In what world is it ever a smart idea to leave Todd alone with anyone?” he growled.
“Now it can’t be that bad Little D.,” Dick said, keeping his hands up in a calming manner as Tim stayed behind him, “I’m sure everything is okay.”
“We all heard the shotgun, Grayson.” Damian snapped, advancing only stopped by a loud clearing of the throat.
All three turned and looked at Alfred standing in the doorway, “Master Damian please refrain from causing your brother’s bodily harm in the house, blood is quite hard to get out of antique rugs.” He said looking at Damian as he lowered his sword still glaring at the other two, “Now I’ve come to inform you that Miss. Marinette and Master Jason have vacated the gun range. I do believe they are now hiding out in the library so rest assured they are no longer doing any dangerous activities.”
“Thank you, Alfred.” Tim nodded as Damian visibly relaxed knowing Marinette was no longer alone with Jason and firearms.
“Now I must go begin preparations for dinner, please do try to not harm each other.” Alfred nodded before making his way out of the room and down to the kitchen.
Once Alfred was far away Damian looked over at his two brothers with a cold death glare, “If anything is out of place on Marinette thanks to you allowing her to be alone with Jason unsupervised for hours. I will make it my life’s goal to make you regret ever entering this manor.”
“She’s fine Jason isn’t that bad,” Dick said, trying to calm Damian down.
“He cut Tim’s throat.” He snapped.
“It was an accident!” Tim shouted before getting a pained expression, “Maybe, look, it was house rules not to bring up shared traumas.” He glared.
“Okay, how about we all calm down and go to the library and just see how everything is doing? What could they possibly do in the library but read or play a card game.” Dick said trying to placate his two youngest brothers.
“Fine.” Damian glared putting his sword away stalking out of the room.
Dick and Tim exchanged glances before following behind him keeping a few paced behind to not receive his wrath once more. They silently made their way through the halls until coming to the double doors of the library. Damian pushed the doors open looking around until his eyes landed on Marinette curled up in a chair with a blanket over her and Jason seated near her reading.
Jason looked up and waved at them putting his book aside, “Hey guys Pixie’s just taking a quick nap.” He smiled keeping his voice low.
“Todd, care to explain why we heard gunshots.” Damian glared as he quickly headed for Marinette.
“Hmm could be because I showed her how to shoot.” Jason shrugged grinning wide, “She’s a natural, she shot Joker's head off like three times.” he chuckled.
“You let her use the shotgun?!” Dick gasped looking horrified, “Jason she is five foot and pregnant what made you think that was a good idea?” he hissed.
“Can you all keep it down?” Marinette groaned, blinking her eyes open, “this is a library.”
“Habibti, are you okay? You’re not bruised or burned anywhere right?” Damian asked, trying to look her over.
“I’m fine Dami, just a sore shoulder but I’ll live.” She yawned shifting around to sit up properly, “It was a lot of fun but don’t know if I’ll keep up shooting it’s really loud.” she hummed.
“How about you do not do any more shooting until after the baby is born and you’re all healed up,” Damian said sitting in the chair with Marinette pulling her to sit across his lap.
“Fine no more guns,” Marinette giggled rolling her eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder. Damian nodded content with that and relaxed back in the chair. They all fell into comfortable chatter talking about what they were all getting up to; however, it felt more like an interrogation for Jason about just what he was having Marinette shoot.
Marinette watched on in amusement as the three eldest seemed ready to go to war over letting her shoot some guns. All too soon the library doors opened as Alfred entered calling their attention, “Dinner is ready young masters.” He said bowing before exiting the room making his way down to the kitchen.
“Well, I think today has been a lot of fun.” Marinette smiled climbing out of Damian's lap stretching her back out, “I might actually get a good night's sleep tonight.” She added before she made her way out of the library the boys following behind her like overgrown ducklings. Soon everyone was taking their seats at the table and settled in to enjoy their dinner.
Everyone was eating and having fun chatting about different topics, Jason couldn’t stop talking about Marinette’s skill with a shotgun, Dick had to make sure he praised her on her flexibility, and Tim just noted her keen eyes and how perceptive she was. Marinette blushed and smiled at all the praise trying to deflect as much as possible. At some point Bruce had snuck in and watched all the children eat and share stories, he smiled softly just enjoying the chatter and pleasant atmosphere.
All too soon dinner was over and everyone was going their separate ways for their evening routines, Marinette made her way to Damian’s room and gathered her clothes before heading in to take a shower. She set her clothes down on the counter as Tikki reappeared stretching out as she layout on top of Marinette’s pajamas.
“Sorry to keep you locked up all day,” she said as she turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm up, “We can’t risk the others seeing you.”
“I know Marinette at least now I can stretch out and relax.” Tikki hummed relaxing on the soft fabric, “when you bake in the morning can I get white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies?” she asked looking up at Marinette.
“If they have the ingredients to make it then yes,” Marinette smiled and hopped into the shower to clean up from the day taking her time to gently wash her hair and scrub off all the sweat and grime from the day. Once she was cleaned and wrapped up in a fluffy bathrobe she was nearly asleep on her feet as she took her time to blow dry her hair until it fell in gentle waves down her back.
Tikki had fallen asleep during Marinette’s shower so she gently picked her up and set her down on a few folded towels so she could get dressed. Marinette gathered Tikki up and carried her out to her purse and gently laid her down placing a handkerchief over her like a blanket before gently kissing her forehead and moved to lie in bed and get some much-needed sleep.
Damian came in not long after Marinette had turned in for the night and smiled before going about his own evening routine and climbed into bed giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead before laying back pulling her to his chest as he fell asleep.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm  @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth @eliza-bich @solangelo252
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hardcasey · 3 years
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Party Hardy
Won’t Fade into the Background - Part 7
Pairing: Boost x Reader
Summary: The Wolfpack attends their first house party and an accident brings you closer to one of them.
Word Count: 3.2k
Ratings/Warnings: T, warnings for alcohol consumption and smoochin'
A/N: This is a follow up of sorts to the last chapter with Sinker. It was inspired by the story of how Alan Alda met his wife, which is very funny and cute. I thought the premise fit our resident stinky boy, Boost, which is how I ended up with whatever this is. Enjoy~
They could feel the pulse of the bass two floors below their destination. The Wolfpack - sans their leader, who was too busy ‘writing reports’ (aka being a party pooper) - climbed up the narrow stairway to reach the party Sinker’s girlfriend and her roommates were throwing in their apartment.
They all could tell what door it was without Sinker even telling them the room number, the lights flashing under the door were a dead giveaway. There was a couple outside the door, a human woman leaning up against the wall and chatting up a pretty green-skinned twi’lek. They didn’t spare a second glance at the passing troopers, save for a quick nod that Sinker returned.
He was about to knock when Comet piped up, “Uh, are you sure this is a good idea? We could just head back to the barracks, it’s not too late.”
“What, are you scared?” Boost teased, nudging his brother with his shoulder.
Comet pushed Boost away before replying, “I’m not scared, I’m just… We’ve never been to a civvie house party before. I don’t know what to expect.”
“Just think of it like going to 79’s, only with less rules,” Sinker reassured him before knocking on the door. It swung open immediately, one of the people near the door opening it and inviting them in.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Comet muttered under his breath as he followed his brothers through the doorway.
The party was packed, humans and non-humans alike crammed into every available space, chatting and drinking and dancing to the loud music that blared through a set of speakers. The air was slightly hazy from the group of people tucked in a corner and passing around a joint. The three troopers stood in the doorway for a moment, stupefied as they took in their surroundings.
“Alright, I just messaged my girlfriend to let her know we’re here. She said to meet her at the bar,” Sinker informed them.
“Wherever that is,” Boost sighed, standing on his tiptoes to try and see over the sea of people.
Comet decided on a different tactic, instead flagging down a nearby Mirialan who had a drink in their hands. “Hey, do you know where the bar is?” He asked, having to shout to be heard over the music.
The Mirialan pointed towards the back of the room and gave Comet a cheeky wink, the rest of their friend group giggling behind them. Comet blushed and was about to respond with something flirty when Boost grabbed him by the collar and started tugging him towards the bar.
It took a while as the clones squeezed through the crowds of people, but eventually they made it to the bar, which was really just a fold out table stacked with booze. Sinker’s girlfriend was nowhere to be found, so the group decided to grab a drink while they waited.
~~~
You stood behind the makeshift bar, bouncing in place to the beat of the music as you mixed up a drink in the cocktail shaker. One of your roommates had shoved a pair of huge novelty light up sunglasses onto your face at some point in the night and you had a bunch of plastic bead necklaces around your neck, your collection growing as more and more people offered you them.
You had volunteered to work the bar tonight, hoping to show off the skills you’d picked up after taking a mixology class you’d found a coupon for. You thought you’d be tired of making drinks by now, but it was surprisingly fun. You got to chat with everyone as they waited and you’d even gotten a few tips. There was also the added benefit of having access to all the booze you could want, and even though you knew you weren’t really supposed to get drunk off your own supply, who could blame you for taking a few shots here or there?
Maybe you were drunker than you realized, though, since you swore you were seeing double all of a sudden. Wait, make that triple. A group of three identical looking men moseyed up to your table, and you blamed the alcohol in your system for how long it took you to not only realize they were in fact three separate people and not one guy, but also that you knew one of them.
“Hey, Sinker! How’s it going?” You greeted the white-haired clone loudly, straining to be heard over the thumping bass.
Sinker greeted you and introduced you to his fellow clones, his ‘brothers’ as he liked to call them. The two of you had interacted only a handful of times - usually he was too busy macking on your roommate in her room - but he’d always been polite and kind.
“This is Boost,” Sinker pointed his thumb towards the clone sporting a set of wild-looking double mohawks, “and this is Comet,” he pointed to the clone with a shooting-star tattoo on his temple.
You waved at them with both of your hands. “Well, Comet, Boost, and Sinker, can I get you anything to drink?” You motioned to the chalkboard listing all the drink specials you were offering, each one of them complete with a little drawing to go with it. It had taken you much longer than you cared to admit to make it, but it had been worth it in the end.
The boys crowded around to get a better look at the drinks listed. “Naboo Sunset… Jedi Mind Trick… Outer Rim… These are some fancy drinks, I’ve never heard of ‘em before.” Boost commented as he read the names aloud.
“Well what liquor do you prefer? The Naboo Sunset and Outer Rim are tequila based and the Jedi Mind Trick has vodka.” You’d had this same conversation several times tonight, enough you could recite what was in each drink without thinking.
“Which one is the prettiest one?” Boost asked after thinking about it for a second. He wasn’t choosy with his liquor, couldn’t afford to be when all he had access to was whatever someone put in front of him at 79s.
Comet raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Really?”
“C’mon. You’ve seen some of those crazy drinks people order at 79s! The ones with all the colors. This could be our only chance to try one for free.” His head shot up all of a sudden as if he just remembered something, “Wait, these are free, right?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. “Yup, totally free. Though I do take tips in the form of credits or in particularly cool bead necklaces.”
“Sweet!” Boost pumped his fist in excitement, making Comet roll his eyes, though he couldn’t contain the smile on his lips.
“If you want something colorful you should try the Naboo Sunset. It has a bunch of different colored liquors layered on top of one another. Very pretty,” You suggested.
“Okay, I’ll have that one,” Boost agreed. “What are you getting, Com?”
“I’m torn between a Jedi Mind Trick or an Outer Rim. What about you, Sinker?”
Sinker considered for a second. “You get the Jedi Mind Trick and I’ll get the Outer Rim and we can share them.”
“Okay, one Naboo Sunset, one Jedi Mind Trick, and one Outer Rim coming right up.” You told them as you started grabbing bottles.
Just as you began mixing Boost’s drink, you saw a flash of red in your peripheral vision as your roommate ran past and all but tackled Sinker. Had he not been a soldier you were pretty sure he’d be flat on his back right now, but he was strong enough to catch her with one arm as she launched herself at him.
“Hey, babe,” he said with a lopsided grin as he spun her around, “I brought the ice you asked for.”
“My savior!” She said as he set her back on her feet, pecking him on the lips before taking the ice from him and quickly handing it over to you to deal with so she could go back to hugging her boyfriend.
You rolled your eyes at them as you cut open the bag and dumped the ice into the almost empty ice bucket. When you turned back to your task, you caught Boost and Comet’s eye and the three of you exchanged a look.
“I’m really gonna need that drink if we have to deal with this all night,” Boost quipped, making the three of you burst out into laughter.
“I’m on it, darling,” you reassured him as you hurried to make their drinks.
The boys kept you company as you worked, sharing silly stories that had you nearly crying with laughter. You had the three drinks ready in record time, though by the time you finished it didn’t seem like SInker would be able to pry himself away from his girlfriend long enough to take a sip.
“Well, I guess you get both drinks then,” you told Comet as you handed him his and Sinker’s drink.
“Be careful mixing alcohol, vod,” Boost warned before taking a long sip from his brightly colored drink, layered with shades of pink, orange, and yellow. His eyes had lit up like a toddler being handed a cookie when you gave him his glass, and by the way he was sucking it down he was enjoying it immensely.
“Or… you could go and bring one over to that Mirialan over there.” You pointed with your chin to motion towards the Mirialan they had met when they got here. “They’ve been making eyes at you this whole time. Plus, I know they really like the Jedi Mind Trick,” you offered with an eyebrow wiggle.
The two clones both turned to look at where you were pointing, and the Mirialan gave Comet a little wave. Comet waffled around for a bit until Boost elbowed him in the side and told him to go live a little.
“You’ll be alright without me?” Comet asked.
“Yup, I’ll be hanging out with our new friend here. Now go get ‘em, tiger.” With that, Boost shoved his brother towards the Mirialan. Once the two of you were alone, he turned to you, “Hope you don’t mind me keeping you company. The only other people I know here just ditched me!”
You laughed at his choice of words. “Of course not. If you want, I can teach you how to mix drinks.” He’d had a lot of questions for you as you prepared the drinks, wanting to know what every item did or what every step was for, so you thought he might find it fun. Plus, you could use a buddy at the bar now that things were slowing down somewhat. It seemed like everyone who wanted a drink had already gotten one and you only had to deal with those coming back for seconds.
“Sure! That sounds fun,” he said, rushing over to join you on your side of the table.
~~~
You weren’t sure how many hours had passed, but you and Boost made a countless number of drinks, some for the partygoers and some for yourselves. At some point in the night the two of you had sunk to the floor behind the drink table, both tired of making drinks and too busy talking with each other.
“What is this party even for anyway?” Boost asked between sips of the water you had forced him to drink. You’d given him your big light up sunglasses and the rim of the glass clanked against them as he brought it up to his face, knocking the glasses askew and making Boost frown dramatically.
You adjusted them for him before answering. “Uhh, I think it’s a birthday party.” He gave you a look as if to say how could you not know so you added, “It’s for a friend of a friend and I’m four Naboo Sunsets in, don’t give me that look.”
Boost nudged you with his shoulder as he laughed, and you were suddenly aware of just how close the two of you were, snuggled up together with your head on his shoulder. When had that happened? Not that you were complaining. All of the clones were attractive, but something about Boost was especially so. He was unapologetically himself, loud in both personality and looks. You’d asked him about the mohawks at some point and he’d told you they started off as a dare but he’d gotten attached. His brothers apparently liked to tease him about his crazy hairstyle but he wore it with pride. He said his hair made him stand out, which you could guess was important when you shared a face with millions of others.
The area behind the bar was a flurry of activity as your other roommates scrambled around grabbing snacks to pass out to everyone. One of them grabbed a cake from the fridge and started putting candles in it.
You got Boost’s attention and pointed it out to him. “See, I told you it was someone’s birthday.”
Not ten seconds after you said it, your roommate grabbed it off the counter and was ready to bring it out to whoever it was for when someone else bumped into them from behind, sending the cake flying. Everyone in the vicinity watched in horror as it sailed through the air before landing upside down on the floor with a splat. There was a chorus of shouts as everyone realized what had happened, the person who caused the accident apologizing profusely while others lamented the loss of the cake.
Once everyone got over their initial reactions, things settled down and your roommate rushed out to explain what had happened to the cake’s intended recipient. Everyone else in the room started debating what to do with the ruined cake.
“Are you really just gonna throw it out?” You asked sadly. You’d been eyeing that cake all morning and couldn’t wait to try a piece.
“Well yeah, it fell on the floor,” someone else responded.
“But there’s still a bunch of good cake left!” Not all of it was touching the floor, just the top portion. From your side you could hear Boost agree with you.
“If you want to eat it, be my guest.”
You thought about it for a second and looked over to Boost. “Wanna eat some floor cake?” He asked, handing you a fork.
You grabbed the fork and smiled at him, the two of you shuffling over to where the cake had fallen before digging in, careful to only eat parts that were safely away from the floor, and since it was a triple decker cake, there was a lot to choose from. You grabbed a big piece, making sure the cake to frosting ratio was acceptable, and held it out to Boost.
He gobbled it down in one bite. “Mmm, gourmet,” he joked, flashing you a huge smile before offering you a bite. “For you, my dear.”
You giggled in between bites of cake. “The dirt really adds a certain something.”
The two of you carried on like that for a while, ignoring the stares sent your way. You wished you could have blamed your suspect judgement on the alcohol, but you knew you would have probably done this when you were sober too, so you had no excuse. But you were happy you had someone by your side who was just as weird as you.
~~~
Sinker nudged his girlfriend. “Hey, I should check in with the guys. Just to make sure they are doing okay.” He hadn’t checked in with them in a while and was feeling a little guilty for abandoning them for so long.
“I think I saw Comet making out with someone a few minutes ago.” His girlfriend offered with a yawn. It was getting late and the party was starting to wind down. It was far less crowded now and there were people passed out on the couches nearby.
Sinker looked around and sure enough he found his brother in a corner, wrapped around the Mirialan they’d encountered earlier. Good for him, he thought, happy Comet had been able to come out of his shell after being so nervous about going to the party. He hated having to be the one to break them up, but it was getting time to head back. Wolffe had kindly reminded them they had an early morning training drill the next day as they were leaving for the party, his way of telling them to be home at a reasonable hour.
Once he had collected Comet, he set off to find Boost, knowing that out of the both of them Boost was way more likely to have gotten into trouble. After asking around a bit, they were pointed in the direction of the kitchen. Sinker ducked his head in the doorway only to find what felt like the worst case scenario, his brother surrounded by a huge mess. It took a second for his brain to process the fact that you and Boost were feeding each other bites of cake from the floor.
“Please tell me you didn’t cause this,” Sinker sighed.
“Nah, we’re helping clean up. Didn’t want it all to go to waste.” Boost explained from his position on the floor, his legs sprawled out and tangled with yours. That was an interesting development. He’d met you a few times and thought you were very nice, but he’d never in a million years have put you and Boost together. You seemed too… normal for his brother, though apparently that wasn’t actually true.
Sinker’s girlfriend poked her head in as well. “Awe, cute! Now smile you two, I want a picture,” she said before snapping a quick photo.
“It’s time to go, Boost. We gotta get up early tomorrow.” Sinker told him.
Boost turned to you. “I should help you clean up first. Like actually clean up.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble with your C.O. Don’t worry about it,” you assured him.
“Okay,” He hesitated for a moment before starting to get to his feet.
“Wait!” You called after him. He turned back towards you and you took the opportunity to snatch the front of his shirt and drag him into a kiss. It started off tense, with you catching him by surprise, but he melted into it, his lips sweet with the taste of frosting. When you broke apart you added, “I had fun tonight. We should do this again sometime.”
“Y-yeah,” Boost agreed, stumbling to his feet. Sinker and Comet were all but dragging him away but he resisted long enough to ask. “Wait, I don’t have your number.”
“I’ll give it to Sinker,” your roommate offered, and that was enough to get him out the door. She closed the door behind them before joining you on the floor. “I’m gonna show that picture at you two’s wedding,” she teased, a shit eating grin on her face. “Y’know, you have me to thank for introducing you. I expect you to name your first child in my honor.”
“Shut it,” you told her, taking a piece of cake and mushing it onto her cheek.
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Text
Partners (Blaine x MC)
Notes: It’s been a while since I’ve actively written anything besides my three series, so I wrote this to A. Reintroduce writing into my life and find my style again and to B. Write something new, fresh and engaging so I don’t get bored and suffer from writing burnout. I know people have been patiently waiting for my series, and I do promise I am working on them but the burnout from last semester, along with a few other things have left me in one of the worst writing blocks ever and with little to no motivation to do anything. (Please gently bully me into writing them - it helps me motivate myself) Anyways, I hope you enjoy this quick little drabble - I loved the dynamic between Blaine and MC but I felt PB really squandered it with FA so I want to eventually compensate for the entire series. I might write a part two or I might just leave it as a cute open-ended one shot. 
Pairing: Blaine x F!MC (Kennedy) (Gender Neutral Blaine)
Words: 1552 words
Kennedy strolled into the lecture hall with Dionne, the chattering of students and occasional shushing of Professor Masako filling the lecture hall. Kennedy and Dionne took their seats in the back left side of the hall, in perfect sight with the board as the rest of the class found their seats, Professor Masako clearing his throat and beginning to lecture as the back door opened. Blaine sneakily slid into the back left of the room, taking a back seat and sitting on their phone as Professor Masako and Ayna explained the first class project - a mock union with students representing their own countries but modified with different laws, ethics, and adapted cultures. Ayna began listing off partners for the assignment, Dionne and Peter, Alexei and Evelyn, Henri and Zaira...
“And that leaves….Kennedy Monroe and Blaine Hayes. You two will be partners for the mock union”
Ayna’s voice faded into the background as Kennedy met eyes with Blaine, their eyes locking in a heated gaze as Dionne tilted her head in worry. 
“Maybe you can ask Ayna to switch your partner…” Dionne cut in, trying to ease the newfound tension that filled the lecture hall as eyes flooded to Kennedy and Blaine. 
“There will be no switching partners, no exceptions.” 
“Oh. Well...Blaine’s not that bad...it’s just your countries that are fighting…” Dionne toned her voice back to a faint whisper as Kennedy huffed in frustration, angrily packing her bag and striding out of the lecture hall, barely giving Dionne time to follow. 
“Come on Kennedy, it’s politics...you’re not your country…” Dionne’s heels clicked as she raced to catch up with Kennedy, who was making a beeline for the library. 
“Dionne, I know you’re just trying to help, but I’m so frustrated right now I just need to be left alone. I’m sorry.” Kennedy sighed and placed a hand on Dionne’s shoulder, glancing behind her head to make sure Murphy wasn’t planning her murder for it. 
“No, I understand and I appreciate your communicative skills. I’ll see you at home. Don’t be late - I’m making brownies.” Dionne smiled softly, her usual princess smile that would cause anyone to smile back. 
Kennedy walked to the back corner of the library, seating herself in the comfortable leather chair and pulling out her laptop with the intent on starting and finishing the entire presentation before Blaine got involved. She hastily typed away, eventually leaving to order a coffee at the built in starbucks at the center, only to return to her spot ten minutes later - with Blaine seated in her chair. 
“What are you doing here? Go away.” Kennedy growled as her grip on her coffee tightened ever so slightly. 
“Whoa, what’s with the hostility Rutherland? I’m here because we’re partners...partners work together.” The twinkle in Blaine’s eyes gave Kennedy butterflies, but she’d never admit that, at least not to Blaine - ever. 
“Well then you can do the last 15 slides, deal? I want to minimize our time together.” Kennedy clenched her jaw as Blaine scanned over her laptop, being bold enough as to view her progress so far and critiquing it. 
“Well, this isn’t wrong but your wording is a bit choppy, and the visuals aren’t very captivating. Maybe adding some animation or statistics may increase our probability of-”
“Wow...so you can be productive and get down to business.” Kennedy smiled at Blaine, before sipping her coffee to cover it so Blaine couldn’t make any snide remarks. 
“To defeat the huns.” Blaine smirked as Kennedy rolled her eyes.
“You mean to defeat the Ardonians?” Kennedy commented back with a sly smirk as Blaine raised their brows, amused by Kennedy’s banter. 
“An hour of horny sex followed by some rooftop stargazing would end all conflicts between our countries.” Blaine spoke with a straight face as Kennedy nearly spit her coffee out. 
“I’m sorry what?”
“Nothing, you have no interest in resolving the conflict between our countries...oh...it’s okay…” Blaine whined and slouched in the chair dramatically as Kennedy forced a disgusted reaction, disregarding the butterflies in her stomach and the fact that her palms were growing sweaty. 
“That’s...we would never!” It came out more desperate than Kennedy had expected, Blaine’s lips curling into a sinister smile as Kennedy felt her cheeks turn red.
“Never what? Have hot, heavy and horny sex on the library roof?” Blaine stared right at Kennedy, their eyes locking in a heated exchange as Blaine eventually stood and moved closer to Kennedy. 
“No! I mean yes! Can we just finish the project?” Kennedy stuttered as Blaine leaned over her, their charming smile and perfect hair throwing all work based thoughts out of Kennedy’s head. For a moment Kennedy thought they were going to kiss, but Blaine took a step back and fell into the other leather chair as Kennedy relaxed. 
“I’m just messing with you Rutherland, we should finish the project. I know you don’t want to work with me.” Blaine sighed and pulled out their laptop as their eyes scanned the screen and their fingers typed away. 
“Yeah...okay…” Kennedy finally sat back into her chair, which was thrown off by Blaine’s weight from when they were sitting in it. 
Hours passed, the night came and the light from the windows eventually became dim moonlight, and the light stemmed from the mildly lit chandeliers that hung from the library's ceiling. Kennedy’s stomach began to rumble which caught Blaine’s attention. 
“Are you hungry Rutherland?” 
“Nah, I can eat when we finish this.”
“Your body needs food, I can hear your stomach from here.”
“Okay well I didn’t bring food with me and I’d rather finish the project.”
“You’ll be more focused and diligent with a full stomach, come on let’s go get food and then we can finish this project.” 
“No, we can finish it now, plus you don’t care about me Blaine.”
“I never said that, don’t put words in my mouth Rutherland, but please let me put some food in your mouth.”
“You’re one stubborn headass aren’t you?”
“The best.”
“Fine, food and then we finish this project.”
“Finally, come on.” Blaine hurried to pack and leave, Kennedy cautiously following behind as their bodyguards trailed behind at a 10 foot distance. 
“Where are we going for food, isn’t everything closed at this hour?”
“My apartment.”
“No.”
“Come on, you said you’d get food. Plus if we want to finish this tonight we have to stick together.”
“Fine. But nobody finds out.”
“That embarrassed to be seen with me?”
“No it’s-”
“Politics. I know, come on then. Let’s go before anyone sees us.”
Blaine opened the door as Kennedy and Tatum stepped inside. The apartment was simple yet elegant, but the decor made both Tatum and Kennedy shift - Ardonian patterns were subtly tied into most of the designs, with a large Ardonian flag hanging above the archway that led to Blaine’s bedroom.
“This is a nice apartment, aside from the choice of decor I would say I like the design.”
“Thanks, make yourself comfortable.” Blaine tossed their backpack onto the couch and strided to the kitchen as Kennedy plopped onto the couch, the rustling of pots and pans following shortly after. 
Kennedy pulled out her phone, texting Dionne that she wasn’t going to be back until the morning, to which Dionne teased her before saying goodnight. 
“Order up.” Blaine offered Kennedy a plate with steak tips, mixed greens and corn - a Rutherland trademark.
“Blaine you made...Rutherland’s most well known dish?” Kennedy’s heart skipped a beat, did Blaine make her her own country's food out of courtesy?
“Well...you said you’d eat and...I think I already pushed it enough with the whole stubborn act...I’ll get you to try Arodnian food some other time...right now I’d rather deal with a happy Kennedy.”
“Blaine...that...that’s really sweet. Thank you.” Kennedy took the plate and dug in, Blaine watched her carefully for a moment before turning back and getting a plate for themselves, eventually sitting next to Kennedy on the couch.
“It’s not bad for an Arodnian.” Kennedy jested as she nudged Blaine in the side, both of them chuckling softly.
“Thanks, but next time it’s Ardonian food.” Blaine smiled and bit into a steak tip as Kennedy spoke softly.
“Next time?”
“Well yeah...we have to finish the project right?”
“Blaine once this project is over we...probably shouldn’t hang out around each other…” Kennedy whispered as Blaine sat their plate down on the coffee table.
“Yeah you’re probably right but...maybe I wanted to harass you again…”
“Oh? Did the ever so stubborn and mildly annoying Blaine want to hang out with Rutherland’s first daughter a bit more? It’s already pretty scandalous that I’m at your apartment on a Friday night at 11 pm.” 
“I could think of more scandalous things we could be doing, but I suppose working on a class project will have to suffice.”
 Kennedy felt it again, the butterflies in her stomach, the tingle between her legs and the pounding of her heart beneath all her clothes. 
“Anyways...we should finish the-” Kennedy stifled a yawn as Blaine sat up from the couch, wrapping her in a blanket and turning out the lights. 
“Night Kennedy.” Blaine sighed and retreated into their room as Kennedy’s exhaustion overtook her.
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Note
Onyx tells Mc she’s pregnant. They hosts a party for everyone to announce of Onyx’s pregnancy. How they announce it and how everyone react are up to you!
Written by @evoedbd
WARNINGS Mentions of abuse Mentions of miscarriage Potentially offensive attempts at humor
Chanouncement
Cali was good with weird. Completely fine. The last year had seen her life absolutely flipped on its head. Perhaps rolled over by a truck, chopped up, tossed into a woodchipper, fed to gulls, shat out across the country… the picture was quite morbid.
Cali had foolishly thought her life couldn’t get any weirder. After all, she was dating the nicer of two near identical twins, who both so happened to be supernaturally selected demon slayers. The “evil” twin had turned Cali into a well of Supernatural energy and used said power to give the demons a massive level up. That wasn’t all, she’d also watched said twin, whilst possessed, gut Onyx, the love of her life and watched Onyx emerge a dragon. If that wasn’t unusual and morbid enough, Cali had literally shouted her romantic love at a literal dragon, who had once been her five-foot nothing girlfriend. Cali had been dating a literal dragon. In love with a literal dragon. That should have topped the weirdness charts. But no, Cali had then become the next Envy herself, and thus the only human bridge between a mod girl reincarnated into a brown bear, and her dead girlfriend. If that wasn’t enough, she’d been part of a ritual to bring her girlfriend back into human form, and to top it off, Cali discovered that her blood was the literal key to her girlfriend’s soul and destroying it. Nothing too serious. Just casual lesbian disaster stuff. Only, neither she nor Onyx were actually lesbians. Both of them appreciated men. In the sexy way. In the “Onyx had dated a man who abused her until her twin sister had gutted him like a pig and stolen his supernatural powers”, way. That kind of bisexual… no wonder some people were a little intimidated by the Queer community. Between U-Haul lesbians not checking for demon possession and world ending bisexuals, that was all pretty scary.
Though not as scary as what she and her lady love planned to do. As fate would have it, if fate was a wonderful arsehole conscious, Cali had been delivered a further dose of weirdness in her unusual life. Weirdness in the form of her formerly dragon, formerly dead girlfriend discovering she was pregnant under the potent influence of ritualistic magic, which had restored her human form. Given that these circumstances would have been terrifying for anybody, even without the added fact that she was now vulnerable for a demon demi-devil’s possession and the prime target of an apocalyptic plot, it made absolute sense that Onyx was anxious. Cali had been there, she understood how end of the world pressure like that could mess with a girl, which was why it was imperative to bring the team up to date on the latest development… and no, that was not a kidney, not yet. Onyx wasn’t that far along.
So far, the plan of a joyful distraction had gone off without a hitch. The common area was alive with laughter flowing from the Sin Troupe. Alcohol flowed relatively freely, along with several bowls and bags of typical party food such as potato chips and popcorn. The floor was already littered with crumbs, mostly from the boys throwing scraps at Wrath between rounds of charades. One thing Cali had learned tonight was that for a group that entertained for a living, a group also responsible for concealing the fact the world was woefully fucked from the general population, they were horrific actors. Now the money and tickets made sense, for even the most deluded of fans would surely notice the cracks if it was left to their acting skills alone.
“Shaving! Um, WHIPPED! Oh! BDSM KINK SHAMING!”
“Moron.”
“Darius… how did you even get that from dancing?”
“Oh? That’s what it is? I thought Wrath was possessed.”
“She’s Britney Spears. Cal’s her circus boy.”
“Well we aren’t all DJs here, Malakai. How was I supposed to get that from whatever she and Cal were doing?”
Cali didn’t tune into the words after that. She was back to anxious, or perhaps the woman tucked under her arm was. It was difficult to tell with the bond so active, causing the teeth marks on her shoulder to burn with the heat of a dragon’s love. Try as she might, she was caught between two violent sensations. The magic of the mark; memories of heat as playful nips had become a serious bite, a possessive one from a Dragon unlike the world had ever seen, or ever would. It wasn’t like anybody had seen Onyx as a dragon… except two sold out nights of the Sin Circus, a carnival ground and a shopping mall full of super excited fans and everyone online. Ok, that was a lot of people who’d seen Onyx as a dragon. That could be a problem. Which led to the anxiety. The type which made sweat prickle in all the uncomfortable places and her stomach do terrified flips. She wasn’t even the pregnant one. Onyx had to survive a pregnancy, targeting and contain a literal dragon’s soul.
All Cali had to do was make the statement that she had an announcement to make like a normal human being. She had to ignore the sweat trickling down her palms, tickling every crease, and how her heart skipped several beats in the past minute; rushing faster and faster until she could hear in her ears when she closed her eyes. Slower Blinks. She had to be normal.  Be normal. Be normal. Be normal.
All she had to do was make a single little announcement, that was admittedly life changing. It wasn’t like these people would judge. After all they were supernatural Demon assassins chosen by mystical powers based on the Seven Deadly Sins. If there was any group which were not judgemental it would surely be these people.
“I have channouncement to make.” she said with a rather high-pitched voice and a casual smile just a little too tight to be completely relaxed. In a room full of assassins she might as well have been waving a red flag saying terrified med school dropout alert. This was the time for the royal skill of fake it till you make it mixed with an impossibly large dose of denial. Anxious? Cali? Hah! No way. She had nailed it.
“What she means is we want to tell you something. Since we’re already playing charades, we want to try and see if you can guess.” Onyx chimed in, snuggling playfully under Cali’s arm. The mechanic grinned, letting her goofy affection conceal another wave of nerves. It was easier if she just stared at Onyx and let her face do what it would do. Give in to the muscles making her smile as she got lost in the most dazzling green eyes the world had ever seen. The dusting of blue eyeshadow really made those eyes pop, like emeralds offered to thieves on booby trapped pedestals. Hah, boobs! Cali liked those. Especially Onyx’s. No matter how Cali tried to avoid falling for the emerald trap, she found her gaze lingering, feasting on how the light shone across dark lashes and the rhinestone piercing just beneath Onyx’s right eye. It kept focus away from tender pink lips, from subtle little bites that portrayed a mix of excitement and nerves. Cali doubted the others would realise Onyx was anything other than playful. Afterall Onyx was a master of faking it until she made it, even to her closest friends. It showed in how loose her body was, how genuine her show stopping smile seemed. If Cali hadn’t felt the flickering within the bond, she may have bought Onyx’s act. That and the affection. How Onyx’s arm around her waist pulled that little bit too tight to be casual. Or how trimmed nails tried to dig into the grey fabric of Cali’s shirt; dragon talons clinging to the finest treasure. A scared girl seeking reassurance.
“Right. And to make it a team Envy experience, I’m going to tell Rip how to act.” Cali explained out loud, barely restraining her laughter as Ripley’s eagerness flooded her mind.
“Alright! I’m the best at charades! My acting is on point. Everyone thinks I’m a bear.”
Cali didn’t have the heart to tell Ripley that her “bear” act was entirely too adorable to be terrifying. Ripley may have the body of a bear, her soul, however, was still that of a tender human. Her soft eyes would strike terror into the hearts of the masses, along with her awkward attempts at snarls and finely groomed coat. Every gesture of her paws would see her painted pink claws drip sparkles, which admittedly might be horrifying to cishet folk. Ripley as always, was dressed for battle, wearing a fearsome checkered neck scarf, complete with an adorable little bow…truly, Ripley could intimidate the world into movies and cuddles. She could terrify little girls into dropping popcorn into her open maw as she scrolled an iPad and lamented the fashion she could no longer wear. She was oh so very, very terrifying. Cali had fallen for the bear terror for five seconds when they’d met, that was true. Then again, Cali had also believed Vinca a completely evil maniac who killed Onyx’s boyfriend, who was a loving and uplifting man, just to steal his powers and fuck with Onyx. She had assumed Dorran had loved and cherished Onyx until his dying breath. Cali had assumed Dorran had trained her, protected her, instead of abused her and hurled her at demons. Cali’s track record with assumptions was pretty horrific, actually. Horrifically awful.
She realised her lingering rage must have echoed through the bond when a soft touch to her forearm drew her attention. Once again, she was drawn into the trap of green, found herself beneath the crashing wave of Onyx’s gaze. This gaze, however, was different. It was sympathy and confusion, a jumbled mess of understanding which stood secondary to the fact Onyx wished to soothe. A small flick at the corner of Cali’s mouth let Onyx know the gesture was received, the storm had passed, at least for now. She didn’t need to keep her gaze on Onyx to know that the former Envy Assassin’s expression mirrored her own. Cheeky grins and eyes twinkling with mischief as Cali allowed her mind to sink into the images and emotions she needed to convey, needed Ripley to convey. Onyx was their awareness, her approval expressed in delighted cackles and birdsong laughter, by her touch on Cali’s arm shifting with her small body.
The bear started out stiff, walking in shorter, wider strides on hind legs as forelegs awkwardly extended before her in a zombie like attempt of curves. A few strides in, Ripley fell forwards, catching her weight on her forepaws, before attempting her waddling all over again. This time, poor Ripley tried to bring them to her back, only to manage to reach her hips; range of motion not allowing her any further. The awkward waddling, paws on hips appeared like something off a runway full of models who had indulged in too many illegal substances. The display had everyone howling with glee, even Ripley within the Envy Trio’s heads. Eventually, Ripley ceased the arms, instead waddling awkwardly around as crew shouted out their guesses.
“Zombies!”
“Onyx got a Runway offer!”
”Did you buy a petting zoo?”
Both Cali and Onyx laughed, shaking their heads to every shout. Ripley let forth a beastly groan as she lowered herself to the ground, then rolled onto her back. After some awkward shuffling, the bear eventually lifted her feet straight into the air, spread apart as far as her beastly hips would allow. The pose was awkward enough for a human, let alone a bear, with her little tail all fluffed up and her long arms gesturing in awkwardly small arcs across her rather fuzzy stomach.
“Onyx is getting a feature in a music video!”
“She’s designing for a dance studio!”
“Onyx has put on weight!”
“We’re meant to guess an announcement, moron, not state an obvious.”
“Cal, manners.”
“It’s true, she is a bit bulkier since she became human again.”
“You know, it’d be easier if you just told me what I was acting, instead of having me rolling around like a pregnant whale.” Ripley sighed through the bond, rising halfway before freezing. She seemed shocked beyond comprehension. Had she been human, Cali was sure Ripley’s face would have lost its hue. The Envy trio stared at each other. Onyx’s face had gone ashen with fright, concern filtering through her tight smile. Her apprehension flooded the bond, all her concerns jumbled together in a tide which threatened to wash both Ripley and Cali away. Fear that she might lose the approval of her sister figure. That she might garner disapproval or be judged for something beyond her control. That everyone would hate her. That she’d be alone again.
“Onyx is…?” Ripley’s question never came through completely.
The moment Cali realised what was happening, her mind was there. She stormed Onyx’s consciousness, shield raised to deflect every horrific thought and fear before she lashed out. Snapshots of fantasy, impossibilities given life for a few seconds. A scent more appealing and delicate than anything else the world could offer. Soft baby blonde hairs that appeared almost white against more tanned skin. Emerald green eyes glistening with nothing but utter adoration. The rush of family, how the feeling of their support could provide wings. Onyx, belly rounded, cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling with delight, toes kicking through a gentle stream. A loving smile from Vinca, the sharpness abandoned as she cooed over an innocent child. How tiny a child would be in Wrath’s large arms, yet how tender the brawler would be. Malakai’s warm smile as the baby traced his tattoos. Darius, dangling his chain just out of their reach as the babe giggled. Cal, strumming his guitar as the three men sung to the babe, who slumbered in an older Avi’s arms.
“Oh my god! Onyx is-” Again, Ripley never finished the though. Her eyes rolled backwards, almost as if she were being possessed in a hammer horror film. Her legs gave out, her body crumpled to the ground. Cali found herself swaying, her vision filled with black dots as the intensity of their emotions washed over the trio, sweeping them away in the tsunami. She clung to Onyx, fighting to keep the smallest Envy assassin on her feet. Onyx seemed to feel the same way, given how she clung tighter to Cali, preventing the Chinese woman from falling. A loud crash let Cali know that Ripley had indeed gone through the bowls of supplied snacks, along with the table they rested on. Chips flew everywhere, spraying across the penthouse along with shards of broken bowls. The laughter stopped, everyone half rising, half looking towards Cali.
“… That wasn’t part of the announcement.” Was the only thing Cali could offer to the expectant assassins. The room went eerily silent, enough that one might hear crickets chirping, or the din from the streets of Vegas echoing to the top floor of the hotel.
“She’s having a baby!” An entirely too cheerful voice broke the deafening silence, drawing everyone’s attention to Cal’s little boy. Avi stood in the doorway to the common area, his little yellow hood pulled up over sleep tussled black locks. His deep brown eyes shone like melted chocolate, filled with a tired child’s innocent delight and excitement. Cali couldn’t help but smile at the boy, giving him the smallest nod of approval, which only made him smile so delightedly that his white teeth stood starkly against his dark skin.
“How does that tie into O- oh…” Malakai started out confused, only for realisation to flood his rich eyes. His mouth fell open, brows arching towards his hairline as his gaze travelled between Avi, Cali then to Onyx. Cali couldn’t read him, couldn’t tell what that meant. Oh? That was ALL he had to say? Just oh? Oh, that was, OH, so very helpful.
“Oh?” Wrath began, her own eyes following the same path Malakai’s had.
“Ohhhhh…” She drew out, seeming to have reached the same conclusion he had. Cali felt herself bunch up, muscles rippling beneath her skin as if they were infected vines. Did they not realise what they were doing? Could they not see how Onyx shrunk away from them? Could they not tell how close to tears she was? It flooded Cali’s body, overwhelming her with its chill. As if winter had fallen for a thousand years across all her nerves until only an aching numbness lingered. The subtle tensions through her screamed her protective intentions as she angled herself defensively between the troupe and Onyx, shielding the anxious woman from such evident attention. If the troupe were going to hurt her, then they had better be prepared to face the wrath of Two Envy Assassins… or at least a sassy bike mechanic.
“Oh.” Wrath concluded. It was simple but telling, accompanied by the pinch of her brows. Confusion and consideration warred within her eyes, yet her face remained remarkably blank. It was enough to have Onyx’s breath escape shakily as she clung to Cali’s arm, squeezing until she was sure her nails would be biting through the colourful cloth of her hoodie. If Cali felt pain, it didn’t show, she simply stood silent. A guardian. A woman ready to fight tooth and nail to protect what she loved. The magic within her mark burned immensely hot, scorching Cali’s skin as its darkness flared, much like a panther swishing its tail in agitation. Despite everything, Onyx couldn’t help but lean closer, pressing her forehead into the mark she had left so long ago.
“Yeah. Big Oh.” Cal agreed, his own eyes shifting between everyone, calculating in his sharp, judgemental manner.
“A bad oh?” Cali challenged, unable to endure the strain of not knowing for a second longer. The calculating glances, the wide-eyed silence, everything screaming silent judgements. Cali couldn’t stand it, and if she couldn’t then she knew Onyx would be drowning. The blonde seemed to cower, tucking her head into Cali’s collar as the Asian woman unleashed her inner dragon upon every Assassin with a pointed glare. Cali’s arms encased Onyx, a fortress of flesh and bone protecting the scared princess. Despite her height, Cali found herself playing prince and dragon, both warring to keep the princess safe in their ways. It would be so easy to protect with nothing but love, to embody the princely hero and do no evil. Let the Princess make her own mistakes and swoop in to clean up the mess. However, Cali had always been more of a dragon. Someone to shield those she loved from harm with all her might, to try to prevent them ever leaving to make the mistake in the first place.
A universal flinch rolled through the Assassins, ricocheted like a bullet from Cal’s gun once they realised just how they had come across to the smallest yet brightest of their number.
“Girl, you’re gonna be a baby momma? I get to be an uncle?” It was Darius who brought the excitement. His seductive eyes shone with barely restrained glee; glee which bubbled through to his most dashing smile. His whole body appeared to vibrate, as if he was giving everything in order restrain himself. His glee was infectious, seeping into Cali’s muscles with a gentle warmth until they thawed. She allowed herself to relax a little, giving Onyx an opening to lift her head and give a shy nod. At that nod, sparks flew, igniting the warmth within every assassin. Darius practically flew forwards, wrapping his arms around Onyx and Cali in his excitement. Malakai was right behind him, scooping the three huggers into his humongous arms and giving a gentle squeeze. Finally, Onyx laughed with relief so potent it was as if the air itself heaved a sigh.
“I’m so happy for you.” Malakai whispered, lowering his head into the pack so that he could press an adoring kiss to Onyx’s cheek. Darius seemed determined to copy the gesture, planting his own lips to Onyx’s forehead in a few lazy pecks. Onyx giggled, squeezing whomever she could grasp. Cali didn’t kiss, not this time, she simply rested her forehead to Onyx’s temple, offering her own silent support.
“Congratulations, Onyx.” Wrath’s gentle voice was flooded with warmth, with unconditional love as she wrapped her own arms around the group, holding her team as if they may shatter under the intensity of her love. That thought was enough to make Cali smile. Wrath loved as she lived, hard and intense. When one had Wrath’s affection, they had the weight of her heart on their sleeve, the promise of an Arch Angel named for a sin. The warmth of Wrath’s hug was potent beyond the physical, it seeped into the soul. Wrath warmed from the inside out with her embrace, turning everyone mushy and relaxed. None relaxed further than Onyx, who trusted her weight to the men and women wrapped around her. Cali was perhaps the only one who denied herself the safety, instead raising her challenging glare to Caleb North. The only Assassin yet to give a reaction.
“Avi, cover your ears.” He finally began, letting forth a soft hiss of breath between his teeth. Long, callused fingers brushed through his supermodel locks, pushing them away from his glistening forehead as he waited for his ward to obey. Avi, innocently as ever, clamped his little hands over his twee ears. Only when Cal was sure that Avi was blocking his ears did the Sloth Assassin begin.
“I don’t understand how you’re all taking this so well. Especially you, Cali. Even a med dropout should -”
“I didn’t cheat!” Onyx’s outraged cry was enough to have everyone flinching. Onyx was a pool of wrath, sickly tar bubbling to a boil in a cauldron precariously positioned above the archway of a door. Or above the gates soldiers of shame might siege. Cali turned her focus back to Onyx, watching how her nostrils flared, reminiscent of her dragon form. Cali fancied she saw a haunted gleam in Onyx’s blazing green eyes, which had narrowed in utter fury, causing her piercing to gleam like a blade in the light. Gone was the whimpering, terrified maiden within that accusation. Onyx had already been that for two people. Now, Onyx stood confident, challenging the world instead of shying from an abuser. As terrified as she had been of her family’s reaction, Onyx was done running.
“I didn’t even think that!” Cal fired back, as if offended on Onyx’s behalf that such a thing were even considered. It was then Cali could see it. The concern waging war with cautious joy in his deep blue eyes. It was noticing that which kept Cali from lunging into the fray, instead giving Cal a chance to redeem himself in their eyes. Or dig his own grave.
“But pregnancy is stressful enough without adding demons, and the fact that you turned into a dragon! Ask yourself, with everything going on, is this really the time to start playing happy family? Is it safe? You see what I go through with Avi. What if you die, or die again in Onyx’s case? I’m worried about you. A child is a serious responsibility, not something to dabble with in the honeymoon phase of your re-“
“Honeymoon phase? That’s what you’re calling -” Cali fired up, her own dark eyes igniting with rage. Cal had dug his grave with construction grade machinery. She could feel the mark burning, instinctively knew it was the angriest it had ever been, as if rebelling along with the rest of her body. Her vision blurred, weakened legs causing her to half stumble. She could barely hold herself up, yet she wanted nothing more than to lunge at the Sloth assassin. Honeymoon phase? Is that what he thought? There was nothing honeymoon about dying! Nothing honeymoon about offering your soul to a lineage of power just to let the one you love have a single coherent thought!
“Enough.” Wrath didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. The note of finality in her tone was more than enough to bring Cali’s instinctive outrage grinding to a halt long enough for her to take a soothing breath and blink away the haze from her vision. She felt Onyx do the same, even as Malakai, Darius and Wrath untangled from the cuddle huddle and respectfully gave the Envy assassins their breathing room.
“I think Cal is just as confused as we are as to how this happened.”
“The gay club doesn’t know?” Darius’ gasped interruption drew the eyes of the entire room, much like metal shavings to a magnet. Despite his crude wording, his shock that nobody else knew was evident, painted across his dashing face as if it were a canvas hanging in the Louvre.
“Darius. I’m not gay.” Onyx’s correction was gentle, delivered with an amused tilt to her lips.
“Errrmmmm, I’m bi.” Cali lifted a hand timidly, akin to how a child might raise it when unsure of the answer in class.
“I wasn’t invited to any club.” Malakai’s comment was delivered quietly, his brows arched in a mocking display of confusion. Wrath, dutiful as ever, simply crossed her large arms, muscles flexing deliciously with every subtle movement. Her head fell forwards, face meeting her awaiting palm as she bluntly informed everyone.
“There is no club.”
“Code then? So the Bi-bies are having a baby and broke the queer code? Like, aren’t don’t you queers have some form of secret club? How did the Lesbian not know? Aren’t you all meant to be experts on lady parts? Malakai might get a pass as a pan man. Queer people always seem to know everyone’s-”
“Darius.” Malakai began, stepping forwards. The sound of chips crunching beneath his boots was enough to draw a tiny snicker from Cali, though her amusement was quickly smothered by the exhausted frown on Wrath’s face. Her usually blazing eyes held poignant gleam. Something so deeply cut, as if her heart had once more been shattered. The mechanic didn’t even realise where Wrath’s mind had gone, not until she felt Onyx also tense beside her. Oh… that was too telling. The last time Wrath’s sexuality had come into the group, half the group had died. Her family had been torn apart as she helplessly cradled a broken heart heavy in a hollowed out chest. Darius had just toed a landmine; one he didn’t even realise he was prone to step on. Even Cal held his tongue, watching his leader with a softened expression that was all the more lancing. A joust of agony straight to Cali’s chest, or perhaps it was Onyx’s chest. At this point, it didn’t matter, both hearts beat to the same music, each complimentary and connected by the existence of music.
“Stop digging yourself into that hole, man, its deep enough.” Malakai concluded. Darius looked puzzled for a moment as he looked around the room before sudden realisation dawned in his eyes. Never had Cali seen him shuffle as awkwardly as he did then, steadfastly avoiding Wrath’s gaze.
“Right… but yeah, wow, congratulations baby girl, or baby momma now.”
“Thanks.” Onyx muttered, offering a small yet undoubtedly genuine flick of a smile.
“Cali, I gotta say, I did not peg you for… you know?” Darius powered on, earning several confused looks from the group. Genuine awe shone in his eyes, mixed with an overly heaped spoonful of respect. The concoction of emotions was potent, yet it only left Cali blinking in confusion.
“I do?” She drew the sounds out, shuffling awkwardly until she untangled herself from Onyx. With a flick of her chin, she attempted to clear a sweat slicked bang from her face, only to have it catch across her lashes. Her eyes watered, stinging with the saltiness of sweat, punishing her perhaps for not seeing what was going on. Where was Darius going with this?
“Like, wow. I guess we should have known you were packing from all the noise you two make, but I did not even notice.”
“Darius!” Onyx gasped, her tone scolding and scandalised even as the most awkward giggle imaginable bubbled in her throat. The beautiful slopes of her cheeks flushed brilliantly, showing through the layers of makeup in splotchy pinks. Only Cali knew that underneath, Onyx would be brighter than a tomato; her blush the embodiment of coals when left bare to the world.
“Noise? Packing?” Cali inquired, continuing to wipe at her offended eye as she tried to puzzle what Darius was saying.
“Like, your tuck job is insane! And it hardly looks like you’re wearing makeup at all! And your boobs, like, they look real, man.” He powered on like a trooper, gesturing to her chest area.
“Um… they are?” Cali’s questioning tone became even more befuddled. Why was he commenting on her chest? How did that tie into Onyx’s pregnancy? It was not like Cali was going to be providing breastmilk, so what else was she missing?
“Oh! I didn’t realise you were on treatments. That totally makes sense-”
“Hold on… do you think I’m-” Cali tried to interrupt. Treatments. Packing. Tuck job. Breast surgery. All of this pointed towards one thing.
“I’ve seen some bad tuck jobs in my day, I mean like, slipping from under the dress levels. Your tuck-”
“I DON’T HAVE A DICK DARIUS!” Cali shouted, sending the entire room into silence. Instantly, her hands flew to her mouth, covering it in utter shock at her own outburst. Embarrassed didn’t begin to cover it, she was utterly mortified. Both for her outburst and that her sex was even in question. Then, guilt washed over her. Guilt that she was embarrassed over an assumption, that she was even edging on potentially phobic behaviour. She had been born female; born the way she was meant to be as a person. That she was embarrassed as being mistaken for trans felt as if she was insulting the trans community somehow. That thought alone made her feel sick.
“…Oh.”
“We really needed to hear that. I don’t think downstairs heard you.” Cal’s particular brand of snark earned a soft snort from several people, which only made Cali’s cheeks burn hotter. Despite this, she uncovered her face, taking a deep breath before speaking.
“I’m not trans. Also, that is so rude! If someone is trans you don’t just casually tell them you’ve made them! That’s so hurtful! Come on, man.”
“Not cool, Darius. Not cool.” Malakai added. The other assassins nodded, murmuring their agreement.
“Then how are you two so loud? We’ve had to invest in earplugs, and your noise has chased off four girls this week!” Darius’ lament was met by a loud scoff from Cali.
“Seriously? That’s what you meant by noise, Darius? You’re Lust, literally, and can’t think how to get loud without a …?” She trailed off, making several awkward gestures with her hand. Her fingers curled, forming a loose cupping shape as flicked her wrist back and forth, hand around the height of her stomach. Her gesture didn’t last long before Onyx’s shoulder playfully bumped into hers, earning a playful tap in return as the women swayed into one another.
“There have been noise complaints… and a cleaning bill for the elevator. Also, a note to visit lost and found. Something about clothing?” Wrath dutifully informed, fighting off the dusting of pink across her cheeks as valiantly as she could. Several pairs of eyes fixed upon Onyx, who suddenly seemed to shrink into Cali’s side. The Chinese woman felt Onyx’s body heat up, enough that she was convinced steam should have been hissing from Onyx’s ears like smoke from a coal train. In the heat of the moment, neither Cali nor Onyx had stopped to think about anything save each other. Clothes had been abandoned across Vegas, and the elevator… the memory of trees flooded the bond. Onyx climbing Cali like one. The dirt filled roots of the tree Onyx had gifted Cali when she was a dragon. Innocence and seductive depravity bubbled within the bond, only increasing the heat in both their faces.
“Can I be dead again?” Onyx squeaked, covering her face with Cali’s hoodie. The idea of Onyx dying again was agonising, enough that a sharp retort bubbled on the tip of Cali’s tongue. She swallowed it, pushing her tongue down into the cavity of her jaw to resist crying out. If she was in the position of being told to retrieve her clothing from lost and found, Cali probably would have felt the same way.
“Hold on. I thought we were discussing how Onyx got knocked up.” Darius cut in. Instantly, Cali was conflicted. His bluntness was a smack on the snout, though it did save them from a far more awkward conversation.
“Darius…” Cal’s hissed warning was enough to send a chill through the room.
“Which we are all crazy happy for, baby girl, but it is a big change.” The Lust assassin continued, earning a loud snort from Onyx.
“Yeah. Tell me about it.”
“She didn’t cheat, and we didn’t exactly plan for it. Nahara told us there could be a cost for restoring Onyx to her human form. The possibilities included a physical manifestation of the bond between the barer of the mark and Envy.” Cali explained. She stepped up a little, moving to wrap her arm securely around Onyx’s shoulders. Such lithe shoulders, despite their muscle, that bore the weight of the world. Such smooth skin beneath her fingertips as she massaged the curve of Onyx’s far shoulder, trying to ease even a fraction of her burden. Cali’s fingers traced odd patterns, even tickling down the divots of Onyx’s muscled biceps.
“Which arguably could be you. You’re both now, Cali.” Malakai commented, tone thoughtful. His dark eyes narrowed, as if he could read the answer from the bare air if only he focused hard enough. A large hand came to his strong chin, scratching at it thoughtfully.
“That’s what I thought too, but…” Cali trailed off, turning her gaze to Onyx. This was too close to Onyx’s demons, to the secrets she still kept. Cali desperately wanted to speak, yet she found herself tongue tied. Lost in the pain she saw in bright green eyes. Lost in her own loyalty. Could she even physically make herself betray Onyx in this way? Was it a betrayal to reveal the rest of what had been said? Internally, she pleaded, letting her emotions touch the bond between the Assassins. She needed Ripley to validate her, needed Onyx’s consent and understanding. She was falling, plummeting off a cliff with no wings to fly and no claws to cling to the stone she might be able to reach.
“She also mentioned something from the past could return to my future… well, our future.”
The moment the words left Onyx’s mouth, a soft grunt from the table drew Onyx’s attention. Ripley had managed to work herself into a sitting position, something which Cali found rather comical. The bears legs were spread apart, much like an awkward toddler, whilst her back was ramrod straight, akin to a woman forced into an impossibly tight corset. Ripley didn’t flood the bond with her words, she simply watched and listened, apparently trying to understand the responses from Wrath and Cal.
“From the past? When wer-“
“Dorran. Those weeks he increased your training.”
“WEEKS?” Cali exploded, viciously demanding an answer. Everything was red, hazy and hot, as if she’d been looking into the sun too long. Even behind her closed eyes, circles and swirls of color danced across her vision, hammering in time with her racing heart. This was worse than when she’d ridden her bikes to exhaustion or suffered sunstroke. Worse than the migraines that had occasionally followed. This was all of them at once, assaulting her body until only Onyx’s deceptively strong arm around her waist kept her standing. There was no question of whether or not she’d collapse, Onyx wouldn’t allow that, but the intensity burning through her was enough to make her remaining words slurred, gasped out between clenched teeth.
“He did that for weeks until h-” She never finished. Images assaulted her, striking her like books falling from a shelf above her head. An exhausted Onyx offering her best effort of a reassuring smile. She could take it. The deep barking voice. She’ll never learn if you don’t push her. How could she? Onyx wasn’t an assassin! She was barely on her feet. Its ok, Ripley, I can take it. Obedience… denied. She couldn’t. Not anymore. That harsh voice. Then I’ll do it myself. Go be useful. Hospital. Sirens. All my fault. All… Ripley. These were Ripley’s memories. It was sickening to realise this. Ripley had been part of it, she’d been right there and had trusted her leader. Trusted Dorran to protect Onyx. That sick man had used her connection to Onyx as a tool, had weakened Onyx with someone she loved unconditionally first… Cali’s tongue was bathed in bile, hot and thin, save for the chunks of chip swimming in the liquid. Dorran hadn’t even been man enough to do all the work himself. He’d manipulated Ripley too. With a soft snarl, Cali swallowed, refusing to let herself become any weaker than she felt in her directionless rage.
“Your abusive ex physically beat you into hospital? And caused a miscarriage? And nobody knew you were pregnant or that he was abusive? What the hell? Cal? Wrath? I though you two were assassins! How could you not realise what that piece of shit had done?” Gone was Darius’ amusement. His voice was raspy in his rage, scratching his usually chocolaty vocal cords. His eyes, which were usually dark, appeared almost black. Made of shadows and rage. He was half Wrath’s size, but the intensity of his demanding glare cowed even the brave leader, who was working her jaw in effort to find even a syllable of an answer. Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes, trailing openly down her cheeks as she allowed her gaze to fall to the toes of her bright red boots. Wrath, who was so strong, could barely stand under the weight of her guilt. Her shoulders shook, slouched in defeat. She may have been their leader. She may have been able to punch the devil out of every man, woman or child she met, but she couldn’t fight off the most horrific truth yet. She had nothing. No answer to give. No justification, even to herself.
“That’s why Vinca killed him, isn’t it? She knew about the pregnancy when that accident put you in hospital. Remind me to send her a gift basket.” Cal didn’t have an answer either, but he pushed on. His own eyes bore an unnatural sheen, one Cali quickly realised were tears. He was close to crying in his outrage. An assassin he may have been, but he was just as helpless now as when he had been possessed. Forced to watch the past rolled out in painful memories. For all the people he had saved, he was clearly struck by the potential he had failed. The possibility he had never even known about. Someone he would have loved with his whole heart, even if it was a lump of coal, and yet was powerless to protect.
“Does she know about the baby?” Wrath barely got the question out before Darius was there, snarling once again.
“Like hell.”
“With Nitsa inhabiting her? After she got my blood? We barely got Rip back, we can’t risk it. I’m not even sure if we should let Yvette know. I’m sorry, Onyx, but until Vinca is safe, I don’t want to risk either of you. I don’t want to control you, or keep you caged, but-” Cali’s imploring was cut off by Onyx’s finger across her lips, silencing her with the gentlest of touches.
“I know, you’re looking out for me. You’re not him.”
“Needless to say, Rip and I will be protecting Onyx, so we won’t be out with you. I also really don’t want Onyx combat training, or up on the highwire.”
“Cali…” Onyx playfully whined, fixing Cali with her best attempt at Puppy Dog eyes. Internally, Cali swore up a storm, using words she was sure even Darius would blush at. The bike mechanic forced herself to gaze into them, willed herself not to crumble at the adorable attempt. If Onyx was bad, how was her child going to be? The idea of baby Onyx alone had Cali cooing, turning into a pile of Oriental mush. If she hadn’t developed an immunity by the time they learned this trick… suddenly, she found herself incredibly hopeful that Onyx could be the strict parent, because Cali could already foresee ice cream for dinner. But to get there, she had to get over this current hurdle. The hurdle of Onyx’s adorableness amped up to a million and directed at her.
“Yeah, no. Sorry. Drop out Doctor’s orders. No being ten foot in the air while pregnant.”
“But the show-”
“Will be there when you’ve had your baby and are ready to return. Your health, and the baby’s health, come first, Onyx.” Wrath reminded; her tone gentle but leaving no room for negotiation. She offered a gentle smile, tears still glistening in her eyelashes. Her warmth was back, encompassing the room with a calming presence. It was enough for Cali to relax, to finally let go of everything and trust her team. These assassins were family. Onyx’s family. Her family. No matter what, she knew they would do their best to protect one another. That they’d die before allowing anybody to harm the baby. That they’d go to the depths of hell, following after Wrath’s angelic aura, to save each other. That’s just what this family did.
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clownmeat242 · 3 years
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the big, brown beaded rosary above my grandparents’ bed
a big, bulky backpack full of my dads things
a stick used to pry mud
an apple that stayed very good after a long time
pink, purple, and blue lava lamps
a special yellow lava lamp
an angel baby statuette, lying down holding a moon
2 special, blue coral dolphin figurines, 4 dolphins, 2 dolphins each
a mood bracelet
blue bangles with colorful gemstones
a card id that was my dad’s death identification
a big, interconnected dmv online system with games
a nun’s headdress
various gummy candy
christmas light lawn deer decorations
photographs of my dad
a photograph of my grandpa with my two young cousins
a plastic bag full of yellow rice and shrimp
my dad’s eggs
the string across sierra’s window with our things hanging from it
american flag sunglasses
a brown cigar box
a silver elk creature with silver chains hanging from it
black swirls of death
these goggle-like glasses that would have parts that would pop off when trying to be fixed
a clear, dry glue stick
a bitten off, red ring pop that resembled a pacifier
a peppa pig baby phone toy
a baby book with blue writing and bees all around it, saying “the cross dressing” something
the blue can of axe spray from 2016
my grandpa’s computer
clear, star shaped boxes of blue slime with pink beads
carrot cake
the red ball toy with the cat in the hat on it, from my childhood
a bulky, purple, show poodle toy
an oval shaped virgin mary necklace with a golden crown
a bigger, heavier, circular, holographic necklace of mary, joseph and jesus, with a message about love
a halloween wall decoration of a group of people wearing pink with blank faces
little sims 4 ghost light decorations
fancy bathtubs with buckets to collect water from them
chocolate straws and wafers
a big hole in the sand that resembled one my dad used to dig
the aloe vera plant on grandma’s balcony
the beaded necklace i made with cheap walmart beads, with a part of the ohio bead necklace attached to it
a deep blue, circular pendant of mary and jesus
this virgin mary, religious box and a mary/joseph/jesus figurine
a note written to a teacher about “what my grandpa did to me”
the rose lamp in my room
my puppy angel container
my backpack, stolen by my grandpa
sierra and i’s black notebook
a big toy bear that was actually a real bear
buttered toast
incomplete clown outfits
contradicting black/white couches
metal rods shoved through little mind people holding them in place, dead together
gratuitous cupcakes with baby blue icing
a mix of games i created with a crash code, crashing into itself like a death game black hole
orange juice
my jar of piercings, while my earrings were all missing from my ears
a big grey fountain with a statue virgin mary in the middle of it
mary made of the same opaque glass as the light angel
a documentary about the women who lived in the pink virgin mary house, as well as a youth group
a map of a beach area where mary was born
a metal helmet with little wings
dark black scribble drawings in my old puppy notebook
a drawing about something having to do with protecting the precious innocence of a child
a meth pipe with meth in it
a magnifying glass
a green backpack that belonged to my different dream parents, full of old photographs
golden tooth/gums dog implants
silver paw print dog tag
yellow greyhound bus tickets from savannah, georgia to west virginia
dried chunk of ramen noodles
a handful of clear dog teeth
a bag of blood to drink
my red axe, that i bestowed upon an ally
the blue manatee towel from my childhood
a thing that looked like a bowling pin but it was a “clown drink” and spawned in random places
holographic religious picture in my wallet
alcohol bottles at the store to smash
my clover ring (it’s “lost”)
blue toy unicorns, severed doll heads, naked barbies
a big heart collage figurine thing that my aunt created for me, with a bible verse, a glued picture of me when i was a child on green sea glass, a framed heart photo of my little cousin, a crying fairy angel figurine on top, a candle, and a figurine of st. francis crying, kneeling. it was stuck together with this movable white glue so it would come apart, but it was together.
these book pages that could have paint extracted from them
drawers that could only be opened with passcode
chicken patties that were cooked over and over, dropped in the same places, and eaten
blue ice pops that appeared frozen but were liquid
lemon flavored chips
a letter with evil energy written to me, with thick, scribbly distressed black writing, that said “GET SOME HELP” with a $500 bill, and on the back more unintelligible crayon writing, with 2 names, zesh & halla, and a pumpkin drawing
a shining blue orb in the sky with a mermaid inside, floating down to my grandma’s balcony and created energy
my mom’s teenage ring
a big box of tools
reflective mirror glasses
a screen that “needed repairing”
a dress up game where you could turn a man’s head into the head of a gorilla
2 stacks of childhood photos that i gave to an undeserving person, to look through
an alternate instagram account of someone i knew in middle school where he was dead and it was his memory page
a candid photo of 3 people i knew in middle school
donny’s white truck that i messed up somehow by turning the wheels on gravel
a huge container full of yellow pacifiers
a piece of paper that someone wrote “angel” on
a pink key and a red key
a huge stack of hay that could kill people by rolling over them
the window of a pool supply store with blue art of angels ascending
money that looked like superman cards
a purple vape with a synthetic marijuana substance (paranoia, hallucinations) called axlaxl
a pink box with feminine personal effects
huge cardboard boxes of fruit, stacked on top of small beer boxes stacked on top of each other
a red toy soldier holding a bazooka (counterpart)
a rainbow jumprope stuck in the dirt attached to roots
a huge yellow goodyear semi truck
a small amount of weed in an old altoids can
my dad’s red box of drill bits
my old purple bike
classic bubble gum
my green converse that had something written on them like “cage the lamb”
my tragic clown statue that and had its porcelain coat turned inside out to be a rodeo vest
a white pair of boxers with burgers, fries and soda pops, and another pair over them, cut and snipped
a golden outdoor christmas display of the virgin mary, joseph and jesus
a gargantuan statue of the virgin mary looking down at the ground, wearing a light blue veil, towering over the church
a mermaid drawing on a whiteboard
a white sheet tied up with a black and pink easter egg inside that could put a fully grown human inside of it
pink, rose shaped bouncy ball that lit up, and once lit it wouldn’t ever stop lighting up, a pumpkin one too
food tickets that could get you rice drowned in vegetable water
orange frog displays in dirt
a designated frog hat that lets the people know who the leader is
“angel water” in green vials
aztec heads in the pool bathroom
huge dead roaches
a box of ham
a cat angel statue
2 cherubs made of clay, had water dumped on them and they melted
tall blue flip flops
a white friday the 13th lighter
a white “the shining” lighter that had “jack” written in blood on a hotel wall
an airline called “popair”
silver hanging nipple rings, a silver chain and half blue, half red pants
severed amusement park parts being taken away in a white van
a box of nails/screws, a big black box
bamboo trees
a big ball of chocolate
my skyrim dragon keychain
a drawing pad with 2 girls kissing
a faucet that soaked everything
a disgusting poem written by my grandpa “lathered in water, a son and a daughter, how exquisite”
a red squishy bear toy
11 notes · View notes
Text
Prank War: Axis vs. Allies
The Axis trio is stranded on a deserted island again, but this time, instead of fighting them, they decide to prank the Allies. A gift for Azusicle on AO3.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24360928
They were stranded. Again. And it was the least of their troubles.
"I'm boreeed." Italy whined, rolling around in the sand with nothing but his boxers on. "Let's do something fuun."
Germany and Japan sat in the rare spots of shade that could be found on the beach, cooling themselves down and discussing escape plans. Well, they would discuss them if it weren't for the Italian. "You have an entire ocean in front of you, go for a swim or something if you're bored." Germany groaned.
"But Germaaany, I've been swimming all day. My skin would get all soggy if I swim any more." Italy complained.
"Then do something else, we're busy here." Germany sighed. "Go take a walk or something."
Italy pouted as he realized there was no way for either of them to come and play with him. He stood up and went to take the ordered walk around the island's forests.
It wasn't a long walk until Italy heard somewhat familiar voices coming from the nearby bushes. There was no way for that to be Germany and Japan, they were still by the seaside. Only when he heard a rather obnoxious laugh did he realize who it was. Panic ran through his veins all over his body, swallowing it in a matter of seconds. He pulled a white flag seemingly out of nowhere before he could hear Germany's voice loud and clear in his head. 'When you see the enemy don't panic. If possible come find me first, before doing anything you might regret.' That's right! The Allies didn't know Italy was there, but Italy knew where they were. He still had time to go get Germany and Japan.
Sneakingly, Italy made his way back to the shore where his friends were. Slowly, but surely, an idea was forming in his head. This island was in a middle of nowhere and the middle of nowhere usually meant there was no one to hear anyone's screams. Italy had a brilliant idea in his head, he just had to tell Japan and Germany.
"The Allies are here?!" Germany almost yelled in surprise as Italy nodded a couple of times.
"And they didn't notice you there, did they?" Japan asked.
"No." Italy answered. "But listen, I know a way we can get rid of them."
Germany and Japan exchanged brief glances with each other. Was this moment really happening? It feels too good to be true. "Let's hear it then." Germany said, not expecting much.
"Well, you see, when I was coming back here to warn you guys, I saw a lot of bugs wiggling around the forest and I thought why not prank the Allies away. That's better than fighting don't you think? And it doesn't even have to be just the bugs we can throw in a lot of other pranks as well." Italy fastforwarded through his idea, Japan nodding along and Germany seemed unsure about it.
"I don't know, Italy. That seems like it would fail." Germany said, brushing away the few strands of hair that had fallen out of their position due to heat.
Japan kept silent for a while, processing what Italy just suggested. "I don't know, his plan has potential, Germany-san."
"See, Japan agrees with me. Come on, Germany, let's do it! Let's do it! Let's do it!" Italy took a hold of Germany's arm, bouncing up and down.
"I still think it's a dumb idea, but fine. As long as you let me go." Germany finally agreed. Two against one wasn't a fair play.
"Yes! Let's do it!" But before Italy could sprint towards the place he found the Allies, Germany grabbed him.
"At least wait until the night falls and they are asleep, or else you'll be caught." Germany said. "For now, let's gather everything we need to prank them."
"Aye, aye, Captain!" Italy said, breaking free of Germany's hold and sprinting to do his duty.
"If only he was this fast when training." Germany let out an exhausted sigh.
Finally, it was night. Italy had taken Germany and Japan to the place where he found the Allies, having previously gathered enough prank material to last them for weeks. The trio sat there, hidden by the bushes, waiting for the Allies to go to sleep.
Watching the Moon's position, Japan concluded it was around 2 in the morning when all of the Allies went to sleep. They waited for another hour, Italy swaying side to side in an attempt not to fall asleep, then they acted out their plan.
The first victim on their list was Russia. Unsure of how to prank the tall man, Japan proposed they tie the ends of his scarf with his shoelaces. Italy drew a couple of eyebrow lines on his forehead, resembling England's.
Speaking of England, they decided to throw away his tea bags, replacing them with a couple of beetles Italy hunted down. Japan wrote 'You're welcome. Love from America.' in a near perfect copy of the obnoxious guy's handwriting. Germany, meanwhile, stuck a piece of paper which said 'I wet my bed.' at the back of England's jacket.
Their next victim was poor China. Japan knew just the way to prank him, having watched Korea do this in the past. He took China's boxes, which contained the ingredients for his famous fried shrimp and rice, and switched them up. He also added a few unwelcome guests to the mix, a couple of lizards' tails and snails. To top it all off, he made sure to hide his wok away so he couldn't find it in the morning. Italy drew him the English eyebrows as well as some additional mustache.
Germany, meanwhile, chose to take care of America. Rummaging through his stuff, he found quite a few cans of burgers and some buns. With an evil smile on his face, Germany placed quite a few worms inside the burger cans. Borrowing the marker from Italy, he wrote 'Wanker.' on every American flag he could find. Lastly, he added a touch of britbrows, knowing full well America will flip the table about it when he wakes up.
Lastly on their list was France. Germany considered shaving his precious body hair off, but Italy warned him that France was a very light sleeper. A mere sound could wake him up, let alone shaving his body. Japan offered to draw the eyebrows on France, using a special method to make sure the Frenchman remained asleep. As he did that, Italy spotted a canteen next to France's side, undoubtedly filled with wine. He grabbed him and excused himself to Germany, who had just finished placing a fake magic wand next to England, and Japan. Returning a couple of minutes later with a smirk, Italy placed the canteen back to France's side. Their job here was finished, now they just had to wait until morning.
England was the first to arise in the horribly hot morning, walking from person to person in order to wake them all up. There was something strange about everyone, but he figured he was just tired from yesterday.
China got ready to making everyone a nice and satisfying breakfast, but, to his surprise, his wok was nowhere to be found. "Hey, England? Do you have any idea where my wok went?"
"None in the slightest." England answered, waking Russia up. "You can use one of the pots we have inside if you can't find it now."
China sighed, his recipe won't be the same if it isn't made in a wok, but said wok was still nowhere to be seen. "I suppose I should." He got up and pulled a pot big enough to fit for his favorite meal.
Except that the moment he went to drop in the rice, snails greeted him. China screamed. "What the Westernization are snails doing in my rice?"
His scream woke up everyone who had yet to be awakened, as well as the three people hiding in the nearby bushes. Everyone exchanged glances between each other, now noticing what was wrong with their faces.
"China, dude, when did you grow the britbrows? And mustache?" America chimed in.
"I could ask you the same thing! Why do you have those ugly lines on your forehead?" China responded.
"Now, I tried my best." Germany whispered in their hiding, covering Italy's mouth carefully to not give their position away.
"Dude, my forehead is nice. Don't insult it."
"He's right, America. You have grown some serious eyebrows overnight." Russia interrupted, attempting to stand up properly to his full height, but failed to do so. His shoelaces tied to the ends of his scarf tripped him up and he fell face first to the brown ground.
"What was that just now?" France asked.
"No idea." China answered, walking towards Russia to flip him over.
"Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Ki-" Russia kept repeating before China turned him back to his position.
"That being said, why do you all have the britbrows?" France, the sensible one, asked.
America and China looked at France, then at each other, then back at France. "I don't know how to tell you this, but you have them too." China finally said.
France's face went full on traffic lights... whatever that means. First it was bright red, then vomit yellow and, finally, frog green. He finally looked like his real self. "You're saying... my beautiful eyebrows... on which I worked so hard all my life... look like caterpillars!?"
America and China could only nod. France took it as a sign for him to faint. Just as England made his way back from his tent. "America, you wanker! What the bloody hell did you do to my tea?!" He screamed angrily, in anger.
"Dude, I didn't do anything to your tea." America raised his hands in the air as England marched towards him.
"Really? Then why is my tea box full of bugs with a note from you?!" England showed the box to America's face, the last of beetles crawling out of it.
"Those are beetles. You know, like the band from your place." America stated.
"Who?" China chimed in.
"What?" Came from England.
"Mmmmhm..." And Russia, somehow.
"Never mind." America rolled his eyes. "Point is, that wasn't me. I don't even write that nicely."
"Whatever, I'm just going to cook." China said, taking the shrimp can, but finding that it was actually full of rice and... lizard tails. The sky fell upon his eyes. His precious dish was ruined- although there was still a possibility that this new meal would taste good- ruined!
England kept pressing on the fact that America tampered with his tea, until America pointed at his forehead and demanded an explanation. Then he noticed a stick with a star poking out of England's pocket. "You cursed us all! We're all forced to look like you and you blame me for the tea!"
"What the hell are you even on about? I did nothing! You tampered with my tea!" England argued back.
"Whatever! I'm just going to eat! At least then I don't have to look at you!" America said, retreating back to his tent.
"Insufferable child!" England said, walking away for a very short distance before being grabbed by someone.
"What did you do to my flags?! And my burgers?!" America spat furiously.
"What kind of drugs did you take this morning?! I never touched your flags! They give me rashes!" England responded, equally furious.
"Well, no one else would write 'Wanker' on them because no one else uses that word! And why did you put worms in my burgers?!"
"I never wrote anything on your flags! And I never put worms anywhere, but you bloody deserve them!"
"You two, could you shut up for a minute?" France finally awakened from his hundred years nap, but without a kiss from a beautiful prince or princess or genderneutral royalty. "I need a drink from your fighting." He grabbed his canteen and took a sip. Weird taste for a wine. He spat it out, realizing what it might be. "America."
"What?" America asked.
"Come over here." America did as he was told. "Smell it."
America smelled the canteen. "Wine?"
France shook his head. "Smell again."
America smelled again, catching a scent that really should not be present in any wine ever. "Dude! That's piss! And you drank it!"
"I spat it out-"
"You drank the piss, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"You know what," China started. "I propose we all get off this island. There's too much weird things going on, we can deal with the Axis when we're as far as possible from this place."
It was a suggestion no one could refuse. They quickly gathered their stuff and helped Russia back on his feet. Just as they were ready to leave, England grabbed his jacket without realizing something was stuck to it. Everyone who walked behind him on their way to their ship had a good laugh, as did the Axis.
"You know," Germany started. "We should do this more often."
"I agree." Italy said as Japan nodded.
"Good. Now let's get off this island as well."
And they boarded the ship with the Allies, taking them all back to civilizations.
Meanwhile, back on the island, a wok was slowly being eaten by the local vegetation. Legend has it that it remained there for the rest of its metal days.
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franie-lam · 3 years
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HW 1:App Ideas
This idea comes from a Korean drama I watched, but it would be really cool if there was an app where blind people can say something like “hey siri” or “hey alexa” what do you see and when they hold their phone up, the bot will tell you what it sees. for example, if a person was in front of you it will describe their features like “a young lady with long hair is in front of you”. The main goal is to help those who are becoming blind to have access to an outlet so that they can have another eye to see through sound from the phones or watches(like apple watch or something). 
Another idea is to create a new design for the CUNY system. I personally found it very confusing at first and felt like there was too many things slammed onto a page. Perhaps if there was a new design it would make it easier for new students to transition into college or their system. The main goal is to make cuny first, blackboard, degreeworks, much easier and simple for students and teachers to use. 
I was also thinking of an idea to help business owners find more sustainable options to purchase when they’re selling items at the store by linking them to sustainable wholesalers. For example, they can use paper bags instead of plastics. Selling metal straws? Using reusuable packages. (I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but it’s an idea) The main goal is to promote sustainable items and go green. 
I think it would be really cool to create an app where people can easily resell their items at home instead of throwing it out. Having easy access to print out a shipping label and sending it to the post office. Or perhaps have an additional area where if you don’t want these items anymore you can donate it. So perhaps there will be different donating organizations that can. be a part of this app and when they do pick ups, people can easily click buttons to get an organization to pick up old clothes, toys, or maybe good condition furniture that people want to throw out. In addition to this, I was thinking, there can be an area where people can find out about donation sites or food pantries so if they want to go in person or ask someone to come that can work. My inspiration comes from the app Mercari and ebay. The main goal for this is to not waste items that can be purchased by someone else or for it to be donated to an organization that can help those in need. 
This is another idea, and it’s to create a game design app to teach new languages. It would be cool if there are different themes to each language. So for example if we want to learn the Korean language, there would be a lot of drawings/animation/photos of the Korean culture as a background. And you level up by exploring a certain area in the Korea. For the beginning, it would be to teach the alphabet level. So perhaps theres an area to choose a character and enter the game at first. And then there’s “level 1 or world 1″ where you are given a bow and arrow (the character transitions to go back in time and wearing a traditional Korean outfit [hanbok]). the character could have a story line and trying to escape guards and in order to pass that round you have to use the bow and arrow and hit the correct Korean alphabet with the English sounds. The main goal for this is to teach people different cultures, language, and to have fun. 
I remember seeing this thing on youtube where a guy created a chat or something or was it in New York?... I don’t remember but in Japan or South Korea girls/anyone feel unsafe when they’re going home. And so in that chat a group of people walk together with that person so that they feel more safe. I was thinking it would be cool if there was an app like that but I do have some red flags/questions of how do we know he/she/they are not a psychopath or can we trust this person? So, i’m not sure how to incorporate that. Perhaps have people take a mini test that gives red flags about someone if they are suitable for the role and decide whether they are allowed to walk someone home?? Not sure how to go about this idea. 
Another idea is having drones send out packages? I’m not sure if it’s even possible yet but it would be so cool to build upon this idea. Some people may not feel safe delivering packages anymore so what if there were drones to help people send out packages. And I do think this may take away some jobs, but what if we had people working as backup in case something breaks down, emergency landings?? or maybe if someone stole the package. I’m not sure but it would be cool to create a design for this idea. 
Additionally, there’s my idea of creating a design for flying cars. Maybe I’m thinking too ahead for our time. But it would be so cool if we one day have the capabilities to ride a flying car?? spaceship? I don’t know. But it would be cool if the design had a system so that it can tell passengers when a flying bus service is coming? or where they are at? and a map of where they can go. It would be nice if they can order online for a flying ticket?
I was also thinking about electric vehicles. And what if we had an app that indicates where all the electric chargers are? and have people pinpoint certain areas that they believe should have a charger to promote more uses or electric vehicles? Not sure, but just a random idea. 
Perhaps an app that gives you daily doses of (pills?) happy thoughts? I was thinking of the issue of mental health and how important it is. Maybe have happy thoughts and have an area to listen to peaceful music? I was also thinking about incorporating horoscopes, but not sure if it will fit. Or maybe have an app that’s informative about mental health?? Make it an interaction app? Where people can find more about it ? Or maybe turn it into a game where you defeat monsters that are mental health issues? 
Maybe have an app to inform about the injustices going on in their community and how to combat that as a whole community?? This relates to the BLM movements and I also feel like a lot of Asians have become targets and should be taken note by the community. Perhaps have a donation box to communities that need help?
What if there’s an app that allows you to easily rent out a space for your event? My idea is similar to airbnb but it’s targeted more for people who are looking to rent out a place for a party?? or maybe have people who coordinate parties find places easier. I’m not sure if they have anything like this, but I was thinking about it... Or perhaps rent our your car?? Maybe for those who bought a car or have several but don’t use it, they can let others rent their car??? I don’t know haha, I guess that would be similar to Uber but instead of having someone drive the car, you’re driving it. 
Or maybe an app where you can specifically donate or sell your old books?? I know I have a lot of books that I don’t read and want to get rid of. So maybe if there’s something like that it can be used for a better purpose. 
Maybe a travel app? A place for people to talk about the best places to visit or even have a tour guide so you don’t get lost. I was thinking a bit of an airbnb style mixed with bookings.com and yelp. 
Perhaps have an app to help small businesses in the community? An app to search up what to order for food near you or locally. And for the businesses to deliver locally themselves so they get all the profit for the food/tips. I was thinking they can promote themselves for free and only if they want to be promoted more or be on the top list they can be charged a bit? I don’t know, just a thought. I guess this is basically an Ubereats idea, but rather than charging the businesses on the delivery fee, they don’t get that? And have the ability to do that for free??? Or maybe have something similar to Postmates but when it comes to employing people as a driver for delivery, they have to pass certain requirements and not be subcontractors? I think that’s the right term, but basically so that you make sure the driver isn’t a crazy person and so that they are paid equally? I’m not really sure how much drivers get paid but I think it’s not that much??? If we consider gas and everything and the fact that anyone can become your driver, I think there should be requirements. 
Anyways, thank you for reading my random app ideas. All these are literally random thoughts and ideas I’m having. Let me know if you have any ideas or suggestions. 
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whitehairedclea · 3 years
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Red Roulette part VIII
Helena sat in her office remembering Chang's words from last night. “As if I didn't know about my intuition, if it wasn't for my intuition I wouldn't open casinos in the States or raise such amount of money, you idiot” she thought. Then, for a split second, she remembered his hands holding her hand and her waist. Gently, yet firm enough to keep her from talking any more. She lit a cigarette and tossed the lighter at the corner of the desk. She quickly dispelled her memories, returning to the issue of the diamond. From the words of Chang showed that the guy did it on behalf of someone, and so probably the diamond has already been transferred to the client.
"Sebastian!"
A seconds later he appeared in the office waiting for an order.
"Bring the Spider over here immediately, maybe he will know something today that will be helpful"
"Of course, I'll get him right away," he replied and left the office quickly.
If someone did order the theft of the diamond, there must have been some trace of it on the streets. So many informants were fooling around deceiving every single profitable handful of information that such a fact of handing over the diamond could not have escaped them.
“ Mrs. Roulette! How nice ... "Spider began as soon as he entered, but Helena quickly cut off his greeting. 
“Okay, finish this cirrus. Fast. Have you heard of any strange meeting last night? "
"Virtually every one in this city, as if you could be more precise"
“It's mainly about the diamond, so focus. Whatever you heard, whatever you know "
“Let's start 600,000,” he smiled.
She had no desire or time to bargain with him, so she just nodded, trying to trust her intuition that he was the only person who could move her search forward.
"I heard one guy brag about a huge amount of money earned for one thing, just one Job. Maybe not a diamond specifically, but quite a similarity"
"Well, who was it then?"
"One of the people coming to the Yellow Flag, long brown hair, possibly American, weird that’s why I remember and that's all I know."
This was more than she could figure out so far, so she thought she had found the lead. All she had to do was find this man and find out who told him to do the job. Time was running out and there was also a risk that someone would want to sell this diamond abroad. Probably worth more than all of Roanapur .
***
  Sebastian headed for the Yellow Flag, a dingy bar on the main street. Inside, it was swarming with suspicious curiosities - dealers, bounty hunters, dirty workmen, prostitutes who could be hired upstairs. In all this hive, he was looking for an American with long hair. 
"Hi Bao " greeted the owner "how's the deal?"
"So far so good, it's only been a week since the last damage, how r you ?"
"It's pretty good to say the casino is spinning somehow, little problems"
"Problems? What, boss has her period? " laughed, but after Sebastian's expression he retired to safer topics "so what problems?"
"I'm looking for a new stranger, he must have arrived here about two days ago, a long-haired brunette, an American, have you heard something about it?"
Bao rapped on the counter to indicate that nothing is for free. Sebastian took a bundle of money out of his pocket and asked for a mug of beer for that.
"My dear, if any connoisseur from Uncle Sam is going to roll through this town, he is sure to look into a lovely restored place like the Yellow Flag!" Bao moved closer to him so that no one would hear what he was saying "... how to tell you, the girls upstairs are definitely perfect"
Sebastian didn’t need more. He jumped up, throwing an additional tip to the bartender, and ran upstairs. Already on the stairs there were crowds of women who were Whiting for the client. Mixed voices of men and women came from everywhere. Every room felt occupied. Sebastian had to choose one to find the American.
One room caught his attention as there was no sound. He decided to try and blew the door open. Inside, a white man sat on the couch, counting quite a large mountain of money. It was obvious this guy was the one he was looking for.
In an instant, he took out the gun before he could react and pointed it at him.
"Dude what are you ?!"
"I would advise you to start talking before your brain will be on that wall over there!" he shouted.
The gun was now right at his temple.
"Who did you sell the diamond to?" Sebastian asked the distressed American.
"It's nothing personal man"
'I don't care, you stole my boss's diamond, who's not a very patient woman. If you want to get out of this, I advise you to talk, we will probably manage without you, but it will be faster,' he replied, unlocking the gun.
The American, feeling the barrel of the gun against his temple, understood how much he did not care about keeping the client's secret. He had money, keeping his life was a priority. Later he talked more than had to.
He was commissioned by an Italian named Dotti right after his arrival in Roanapur. He escaped from the Italian mafia and hid somewhere in the city, gathering his strength to take over the position of the then mafia boss. He couldn't announce his great comeback yet, so he decided to start marking his grounds with minor intimidations. Defecting Helena was to scare her and take over the casino as a new home. The plan might have worked if it had happened to someone else. Helena wasn't going to let go of such an insult, she would have pulled information about him from the city's canals to get him.
"THIS IS ALL I KNOW!" he shouted "really even the pasta makers don't know where he is. NOBODY knows, I got the money a moment ago together with the key to this room!"
There was nothing else to ask. He sheathed the gun and grabbed the bag of money, then threw them all out of the open window. Hundreds of dollars scattered across the crowded street. Seconds later, there were shouts of surprise and fights for every dollar.
"FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER WTF ?!"
'Enjoy you're alive. I'd rather blow your head off now" Sebastian replied and left.
He returned to the casino as soon as possible. It was the most important piece of information, the main puzzle to solve the whole case. They might have started working before it was too fast to spread around town that the Roulette casino could be brazenly robbed.
Sebastian shared with Helena all the clues he had obtained. Without a moment's thought, she rushed to the phone and started calling known informants if anyone had heard of Datti's location . Unfortunately, silence, no one knew him and no one heard of him since he hid from the Italian mafia.
"The little fish don't know anything or don't want to sprinkle ..." she said, looking out the window. Sebastian had the impression that she was running out of ideas on what to do next.
'Maybe actually wait for an intimidation attempt? There is a chance he'll reveal himself. ”Helena didn't let him finish, she held up a hand to silence him.
'I won't wait, Sebastian. It's a perfect night to spill some blood, "she said with a slight smile on her face, then added," If the little fish don't know anything, let's see what the shark says. "
'It means ?'
'We're going to talk to All-Knowing-Mr-Chang , I think it might be a good move.' her green eyes flashed.
Sebastian felt as if she was getting excited about this whole situation.
***
The private line telephone began to ring. Chang picked up "Cho , if they're Cubans again with cocaine in their veins, fire them, I won't play business with junkies," he dropped after a hard day. From this morning, one of the cartel people wants to sell him the idea of cracking down on cocaine in Japan. Like a drugged man, full of vision, he only wasted his time.
'Of course boss, it's just ... they're not Cubans. Red Roulette and Sebastian are here asking for a meeting'
Somewhere in the background you could hear Helena's voice, who didn't like the phrase 'ask'. She clearly tried to correct that she required this meeting.
'Let them in'
Chang began to believe that this evening was not going to be written off after all. "But there are still people in this town who can keep me entertained," he thought. A moment later he heard the clap of heels and a knock on his office door.
'Come in'
Cho entered first and signaled that they could enter. Helena straightened her red hair quickly and walked in with a serious look.
"Why do I owe such a great visit," he asked, comfortably leaning against the desk.
'I'll be short because I don't have time. I know who ordered the theft and it was Dotti , a former member of the Italian Mafia, but I have no idea where he is ' she came close enough to rest her hands on his desk. The red nails tapped gently impatiently. Her green eyes, full of fury, waited for his reply. It was only then that he noticed that there was a tiny mole on her face next to her left eye. Right at the tip , as if it was waiting to be spotted under the cover of red waves of hair. The long black dress sparkled softly in the light, and Chang wished she would take a few steps back to see her leg emerging from the slit. The louder tapping of her nails brought him back to reality. He wanted to laugh at wandering his mind, but quickly gathered his thoughts.
"Of course, I know where he is. Boss of the italian mafia still makes me laugh that he can’t find this Dotti guy. I'll help you with him, " he replied, standing to put on his jacket.
'You misunderstood me, Mr. Chang. I don't want you to help me deal with him. Just give me his location, I'll do the rest myself. '
It made the corner of his mouth turn into a devilish smile. The predator's gaze shone from behind his black glasses . 
'Sorry, I misinterpreted your intentions. Then let me accompany you on this journey ”he offered her a hand, lowering his head as if inviting her to dance.
He was eager to see this confrontation unfold. And most of all, what she can do. As a new fish in town, she had to show that she could do more than sell information, otherwise it would be difficult for her. She could slide quickly to the very bottom of that Roanapur abyss .
'In that case, let's dance tonight' she smiled malevolently.
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hollowgroverp · 5 years
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“I’m Mayor Novak and I’d like to welcome you to the 32nd annual Spring Fling! Today we have twenty-one very charitable suitors who have willingly offered up their day for a wonderful cause. The Displaced Children’s Fund, to support supernatural children displaced by the cruelties of our world is a cause close to so many of us. All proceeds from today’s event will go to the fund. Now settle in and will begin the bidding momentarily….”
Below the cut you will find the 21 baskets that were submitted for the event. Bidding will take place until SUNDAY MAY 26th, at which point the bidding will close and then I will pair up the bids with basket. We will do my best to ensure everyone gets matched up with someone. If you would like a certain pairing based on plot reasons let me know and we can see what can be done to make it happen. If you have multiple characters I will do my best to ensure at least one of your characters gets paired for a basket.
How to bid: Comment on this post with your characters name and their three bids. If you bid you must place three bids to ensure we can make proper pairings. ex: Sophia Greyson bids on basket 1, 4, and 15. If you do not follow the bidding rules ie: you bid once or you send an ask, your bid will not be considered.
When will the picnics take place: Picnic dates, can take place any time after bidding concludes on Saturday (in game), this includes during the event or post event. These threads can carry on after the event ends but we encourage you to reach out to your pairing and plot.
                                 FINALLY, HAVE FUN WITH IT!
Baskets
Basket One submits a black wicker picnic basket with a red ribbon tied into a bow to hold the handles closed. Inside you’ll find the following: fresh baked bread from the bakery, a blueberry pie from the bakery, a can of whipped cream, a cold roast chicken, a bottle of decent red wine, atop a soft dark blue flannel blanket, and cutlery and plates.
Basket Two submits a wicker basket with red and gold pattern cloth lining the base and two matching silk ribbons tied in bows at the base of either side of the handle. Inside you’ll find the following: two glass bottles full of honey (some honeycomb included), several small pots filled with edible berries, strawberries, gooseberries, blackberries) and several more filled with edible plants: fireweed, daylily petals & chicory; attached is a small card with ‘all sourced from the local forest.
Basket Three submits a watermelon shaped and colored vintage basket with a white rose laying on top. Inside you will find: a deck of Uno cards, Twister, whip cream, two bowls of fresh fruit salad, a bottle of white wine, two homemade pepperoni pizzas, a fluffy blanket, two pairs of ridiculous looking sunglasses, one heart shaped and one alien shaped.
Basket Four submits a black wicker basket with a red bow. Inside you will find: A Fully white blanket rolled up next to a bouquet of white roses, two bottles of red wine, two crystal glasses, a cheese plate with different kinds of cheese, grapes, a box of Belgian chocolates. As well there are two envelopes in it, one red and one back with a note ‘your choice conquers all’.
Basket Five submits a black and gray duffel bag. Inside you’ll find the following: a black and white checkered flag, a pair of black leather driving gloves, a black leather jacket, sunglasses, and a menu for a lavish casino that offers exclusive dining services. Foods such as lobster, steak, pasta, and various delicacies are described in detail for you to choose from. The option to enjoy a private table outside on the balcony is circled in red, and a few casino chips worth one hundred dollars each have also been thrown into a side pocket.
Basket Six submits a large, insulated picnic basket with bright red fabric and black trimming. Inside you’ll find the following: double chocolate banana muffins, two berry parfaits in glass jars, a mix of colorful fruits, deviled eggs, two ham and cheese croissants, lemon bars, and two water bottles. A brochure for a zoo a few miles out from town is placed with the food, along with two certificates for a behind-the-scenes tour that includes a chance to meet some of the animals.
Basket Seven submit a brown wicker basket with a ribbon attached to the handle bearing sigil of House Mormont. Inside is a cherry pie, two chocolate pudding cups, a gift card to the local bowling alley, a bottle of whiskey with two solo cups, a copy of A Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, a box of cards against humanity, and a red blanket.
Basket Eight submits a brown picnic basket lined with a green apron that reads “Kiss Me, I’m Irish”. Inside you’ll find the following: two cans of Guinness, a loaf of Irish soda bread, and a box of Butler’s Irish Whiskey Truffles.
Basket Nine submits a brown wicker basket lined with a light brown scarf. Inside you’ll find the following: fancy chocolates, a bottle of red wine, and two glasses.
Basket Ten submits a classic wicker basket lined with red cloth. Inside is a container of fruit salad, assorted sliced cheeses, meats, and crackers, some homemade pizza bagels, and a six pack of beers. For dessert, everything needed for s'mores.
Basket Eleven submits a chestnut brown willow basket with a single rose resting on top. Inside you’ll find the following: A jug of bourbon punch, a bottle of white zinfandel, a folded red blanket, two steaks, antipasto skewers, kale caesar salad, blackberry cheesecake brownies, and chocolate dipped strawberries. Rose petals are sprinkled inside the basket and there’s a small stuffed bear holding a heart that says ‘be mine’.
Basket Twelve submits black ash basket wrapped in a red satin bow that is holding a rose on top. Inside is an isolated compartment that is holding two bread bowls filled to the bring with pasta, one chicken alfredo, one spaghetti, and meatballs. Two garden salads, breadsticks and dipping sauce, and cheesecake.  There is a bottle of Sangria and a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses and two wine glasses. There is also a picture of the back of a pickup truck filled with pillows facing an outdoor movie screen and the breakfast club playing on the screen, a sticky note is attached that reads ‘netflix and chill?’ jk I don’t really get what that means’ . There is also a baggy full of movie snacks and popcorn. 
Basket Thirteen submits a vintage white picnic basket with a brown clasp. It’s insulated and lined with dark red cloth. Inside you’ll find the following: A bottle of expensive white wine, two wine glasses, grilled salmon, grilled honey mustard chicken skewers, grilled artichokes with harissa-honey dip, radish tartines, and pear cakes cut into heart shapes. Two small sailors’ hats are tucked on the side and a note that reads “Sail away with me” in cursive handwriting.
Basket Fourteen submits a dark brown wicker basket with a navy blue blanket held to the side with leather straps. Inside you’ll find the following: a bottle of Nosotros wine and two crystal wine glasses, classic lobster rolls, handmade spring vegetable pizza, spring greens Caesar salad, brownies and lemon cookies. There are also two sets of hand-made movie tickets, one copy of Pride & Prejudice and one of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.
Basket Fifteen submits a simple grey plastic laundry basket (one you might find in the walmart home-good section), with a black and white checker sheet folded in the bottom. Inside you’ll find the following: One bottle of Woodford Reserve Whiskey 1.0L, one can of bug spray, one bottle of SPF 30, two pairs of thick wool socks, four expertly made ham and cheese sandwiches, one large refillable water bottle, two black and white striped beach towels, a box of Cheez-It’s, and a bag of Sour Patch watermelon gummy candy.
Basket Sixteen submits a light brown wicker basket with an off-white lining at the top and a dark brown top. Inside you’ll find the following: A jug of freshly made lemonade, A jug of ice coffee, two empty mason jars for cups, steak tacos, Tostitos chips, medium salsa, cucumber tomato salad, and two slices of lemon meringue pie. The green and white checkered blanket is folded at the very bottom. There are two neon mini golf balls in one of the inside pockets.  
Basket Seventeen submits a medium sized white basket. Inside you’ll find the following: peach gummy candy, kettle corn, red wine, a fuzzy blanket and a pair of fuzzy socks, two sandwiches, cheese and crackers, colouring book & crayons and a pack of cigarettes
Basket Eighteen submits a large wicker basket with a blue picnic blanket. Inside you’ll find the following: watermelon, apples, homemade banana bread, chocolate chip cookies, red & white wine, two BLT sandwiches, a bouquet of tulips and a book of riddles.
Basket Nineteen submits a cherry coloured Peterboro Traditional picnic basket lined with blue gingham. Inside you’ll find the following: a decanter of blood, a bottle of good single malt Scotch, sheet music for Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 3, and one apple.  
Basket Twenty submits a brown wicker basket lined in red and white plaid. Inside you’ll find the following: a blanket with a bear skin rug pattern, an enormous Cuban sandwich, a bag of coffee beans, potato salad, a fifth of whiskey, and half a dozen snickerdoodles.  
Twenty One submits an antique wash willow hamper lined in dark red. Inside you’ll find the following: a bottle of Dom Perrignon champagne, a bottle of Labella’s finest wine, two champagne flutes, two wine glasses, two China plates, a removable cooler bag containing an assortment of fine meats and cheeses, a board on which to set out the meats and cheeses, various boxes of different kinds of crackers, and chocolate covered strawberries for dessert.
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times-new · 5 years
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The Son of Rome, Chapter 1
Hi! This is my PJO fanfic, a Roman!Percy AU that I’m writing as a five-part series like the original PJO. I’ve posted the whole first ‘book’, the Son of Rome, on ffn - but I’m posting it here too for good measure. Hope you like it!
Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood. You might think I'm crazy for saying that. Being a demigod? Why would anyone not want to be one?
Well, a lot of reasons. I knew that. But I didn't fully understand it until today.
It started several weeks – no, it must have been months now. Several months ago, I woke up cold, confused, alone, and surrounded by talking wolves. It was scary, sure, but fear wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. Being a twelve-year-old in New York is hard enough, and when you add ADHD and dyslexia to the mix, you might end up with something like me. I had to face bullies from classmates and teachers alike. I was raised in a system that set me up to fail. Even when I come home to my mom, the only good thing in my life, I had to put up with my stepdad. Being scared and alone wasn't anything new.
Okay, that sounded a lot more arrogant than I thought it would. Let me start over. My name is Percy Jackson. I'm a skinny kid with thin black hair and green eyes. I guess I don't look too different from my mom, but I got my eyes from my dad. That's the only thing Mom would tell me about him in twelve years. Enough about him, though. Like I said, I'm ADHD and dyslexic, so school never felt right to me. I just felt like I should be doing a lot more than book reports and geometry. I tried to join the basketball and baseball teams, and although using up all my energy felt good, it just wasn't rewarding.
I was stuck in a loop of doing bad in school, disappointing my mom, getting frustrated, then doing bad in school again. Sometimes I even wish that my dad would finally show up and save us from our lives. My mom keeps telling me how proud she is of me no matter what, and I believe her, but I know she deserves better than that. Better than me. And a little after I turned twelve that wish came true.
I woke up in the ruins of what I thought was a castle at first. It turned out to just be a really big house, but my mind couldn't comprehend that people could actually live in places as big as this. That was almost harder to believe than the talking wolves. They surrounded me when I first woke up, all slick dark fur with beady eyes. Then they had parted to allow a much bigger wolf approach me. Lupa, she said her name was. She told me everything in her deep and powerful voice. That I was a demigod, that I had been chosen, that I had to learn to fight and live and survive the legacy of Rome.
Sure. Better than pre-algebra.
She pushed me to the limit. I did things I didn't know I could do and tore muscles I didn't know I had. When she was done with me I was strong enough to be a member of the pack. I had to be, because I'm still alive.
Right now, I'm sitting in a bus with my backpack on my lap, squished between strangers. Every bump in the road made me clutch my bag even tighter, and my hands would twitch to the coin in the pocket of my jeans. Over the past few days I was traveling towards my destination, some place called Camp Jupiter. Lupa had told me to 'follow my instincts' and 'embrace my destiny'. She was a bit dramatic that way.
But I couldn't describe the feeling any better. I just knew in my bones that this was the right way even if my brain says otherwise. A camp? Like a summer camp? It's probably a bunch of cabins with a volleyball court. It's got to be back in the forest near the Wolf House. How could it possibly be in the middle of the city? It made sense. And yet I knew it wasn't right. The trail of monsters probably helped me decide that.
I tried to keep my head down. Really, I did. But one way or another I would always find some weird nasty trying to kill me. They were always bigger, stronger, and meaner than me, but none of them were taught by wolves, let alone Lupa. I had to use my hard-won wits to beat them. Which meant a lot of running away. It's a lot more heroic than it sounds. But I had to stand and fight more times than I was comfortable with, and that meant busting out the magic sword I kept in my pocket. Lupa had given it to me – she said it's made of 'Imperial gold', that it was meant to be used by the greatest sons and daughters of Rome. I didn't understand why calling gold 'imperial' would make it any better, and I definitely didn't understand how I was 'great', but I learned not to question Lupa. That would only lead to running more laps around the Wolf House.
As far as I knew, I didn't have anything to make me great. Though I always had a nagging feeling, something to do with how I get whenever I go near water… like that one time I tried to join a swimming club and outpaced the instructor, or that one time me and my mom went to the cabin in Long Island. But that can't be right. It can't be. Because if it was, then that would make my dad…
No. A couple days ago I went to a public library to get on a computer and Google some stuff about the Roman gods. I found out that out of all of them, Neptune was the most feared and hated - except for maybe Pluto. After a life of being rejected by everyone I knew, this was my one chance of fitting in. I didn't want to be a loner again. Sadly, I also found out that every monster within a five-mile radius immediately knows where I am whenever I use the internet, so I could never find out more about the Roman gods by myself. The only reason I made it out of that library alive was my coin and very inventive use of a rolling chair.
I snapped back to reality when I saw my stop. I got out of the bus and stepped out into the middle of nowhere. Well, not exactly. But it sure felt like it. The bus stop was on top of a small hill, and I was the only person around. I was surrounded by beautiful golden hilltops and flatlands further in the distance where the suburbs of San Francisco sprawled. Far away, I could see the Golden Gate Bridge, and on the opposite side, I could see a mountain with its peak hiding behind a cloud. I wasn't sure where I was. But something just felt right. I had followed my instincts like Lupa taught me, and I would know I was right because I would always find –
I heard a snort behind me. The only thing I heard for a few moments after that was my heart beating in my chest. Then I plucked up the courage to turn around.
It was tall, muscled, and really, really smelly. Like, worse than my stepdad smelly. It was naked except for a loincloth, though that wasn't what I was looking at. Its nose was covered in reddish snot, and its eyes were dull black and fixed on me. But my eyes kept drifting to the top of its head, where two cruelly twisted horns sprouted out like the stunted plants from one of my failed science experiments. I guess it looked pretty normal until you moved past its neck and onto its bull's head. I wondered why I didn't notice it before. The Mist, I realized. It must have affected me, and the mortals even more. It was the magic that covered up our world from everyone else, Lupa had told me. People saw what they want to see, and it's never the truth. Even now the thing's head would sometimes look like a misshapen human head with a cowboy hat. And I figured that if someone saw the man-bull for what it was, it could probably go on all fours and moo and no one would look twice.
That made me choke out a laugh. Apparently cows took offense to that, because it roared and charged at me. My battle instincts kicked in, so of course I turned and ran. Look, I promise I'm a demigod, alright?
My first thought was to think back to what I knew about bulls. Well if I'm being completely honest my first thought was Oh my gods, please don't kill me, I'm sorry I had a cheeseburger this morning! My second thought was racking my brain about bulls. Even when I was sprinting up and down hills with a monster at my tail I could think up a few things. First, beef is delicious. Second, cows don't like the color red. Not a lot to go on, but I was under a lot of pressure. Then I remembered that some people would go in an arena with bulls and wave red flags in front of their faces. I forgot what they were called – mats? Doors? Whatever they were called, they always dodged by moving to the side just before they got hit. I hoped that would help me, because I began to feel the thing's breath on my neck, like my pre-algebra teacher. That didn't help me calm down.
I dodged to my right before I knew what I was doing. Sure enough, there was a surprised grunt and I risked a look back. Now that I was closer I could see that it was a lot less human than I thought. It had fur on its chest and arms, but even under all that I could see veins rippling below its bulging muscles. It looked off-balanced for a minute, until it shook its head and barreled at me again.
I can't outrun him, I realized with a jolt. Even now I was starting to get tired and the man-bull was just warming up. The sharp turns were hurting my ankles, and the thing was starting to get used to my tricks. That left two options. I could overpower it or outsmart it. That first option was crazy, even for me, so I had to use my brain instead. Maybe if I went to the city and ducked into an alley – no, that would just endanger more people. I couldn't do that. Maybe…
My instincts told me that the camp was close. Very close. I needed to buy some time, get on a hill, and look at my surroundings. Right now, the only thing I could see were my feet pounding the soil, and a big shadow getting bigger and bigger. Well then. I decided to do what I do best and did something stupid.
I dodged again, but instead of sprinting I turned around, took off my shoe, and threw it at him. The monster was more surprised than hurt – which made sense, since it flew well over his head. I was no good at archery, so I guess that wasn't shocking. But it did its job. It was distracted long enough for me to reach into my pocket. I pulled out a small golden coin – it was the size of a half-dollar, but solid gold and with weird drawings on it. It had the head of some guy I didn't recognize on one side, and the letters IVLIVS on the other. I didn't know what that meant, but I did know that if I flipped it, it would turn into a Roman gladius: a few feet of sharp monster killer.
I screamed at the top of my lungs, grabbed the sword in midair, and jammed it to the thing's leg. It screamed even louder than me, then reached down to grab me with its meaty hands. I pulled out the gladius just in time and rolled backwards. Golden fluid, what had to be the thing's blood, poured from the wound. Normally monsters would just poof into dust after a solid hit with my sword, but this guy was something else. Still, it fell to its knees when it tried to charge me again, which gave me a few seconds to run up the nearest hill and look around.
I only had a glance. It was enough. I could see huge columns in the middle of the field, then saw that they were holding up a highway above me, where it disappeared into a big hill. To my left were more hills, which began to turn to asphalt streets, while to my right I could reach the suburbs with just a few more minutes of running. But up ahead…
It looked like an old tunnel, built into the side of the big hill. Maybe for maintenance? I wasn't sure what I was looking at, but something just screamed to me, home. The only time I felt that way was when I'm in my tiny apartment, alone with my mom, talking about the rare happy moment in school while eating nachos and her legendary seven-layer dip. It felt right. It felt safe.
That was all the encouragement I needed. I ran through the grass and dirt faster than I thought was possible. I could feel stitches at my side and cramps down my legs, but the smell of monster kept me running. Eventually I could see an entrance in the tunnel, a set of enormous iron doors, and two people who looked like they were wearing armor. They were also holding spears and carrying shields, which reassured me, though they couldn't have been much older than me. But when a charging bull monster was on your butt, you'd take your chances.
"Help!" I screamed. My voice was strained and hoarse – gods, I wish I had drunk before I stepped off the bus. The guards noticed me and looked as scared as I felt. I could see them yelling to each before one of them opened the doors and the other readied his spear. As I got closer I could see his blue eyes and waxy skin underneath his helm. He looked terrified, but he leveled his spear.
"Halt in the name of Rome! Who are – "His voice was shrill, and I might have laughed if my voice was any better.
"Later! Help now!"
He ground his teeth and surged forward. I couldn't believe my eyes. He actually moved to attack.
"Senatus Populusque Romanus!" he shouted. Okay, I thought. Why not.
"Get in!" yelled the other kid. She looked like a girl – it was hard to tell underneath the helmet. That sounded like a great idea to me, and I ducked inside. It was dark inside the tunnel, but I could see a light in the distance. I followed it before turning to the girl.
"What's- "And I realized it wasn't her. Instead, the first guard was running beside me. He had a nasty gash on his shoulder and was breathing heavily, but otherwise looked alright. "Keep going! Gwen is keeping it busy!"
I didn't know what he was talking about, but 'going', I understood. I huffed and reached the end of the tunnel. I thought I had died.
At the other end was a valley, small as far as valleys went, but there was a city in the distance. It looked like heaven, or what I thought heaven would look like: pristine white walls, beautiful arches, and solid buildings surrounded by freestanding columns. It was a couple hundred feet away, and in between us there was a river that ran through. Again, I could feel that tugging feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I forced myself to think about something else. I turned around and my heart leapt to my throat.
I was so taken by the sight I didn't notice the male guard had switched places with the girl again. Only this time, she looked terrible. Her helmet was missing, revealing a mass of reddish-brown hair that stuck to her head with what looked like blood. She was using her broken spear as a crutch and limping as fast as possible towards me. The other guard was yelling at the monster, trying to get its attention by going for the occasional jab with his own spear, but I knew that it could snap the spear or the guard with equal ease. I had to help.
I heard shouting and bells ringing. In the distance, a group of people were running towards us, but it would be a few minutes before they arrived, minutes that we didn't have, and that was if they didn't have to cross the river…
The river.
"Hey! He needs your help! Hey!" I heard the female guard, Gwen, calling out to me, but I swallowed my guilt and ran to the river. You told yourself you'd never use this power, I thought. You said you'd reject your father. I hated that I had to do it, but I hated myself more for not thinking about the guards sooner. If I had stood and fought, if we surrounded the monster three on one, then maybe…
No. This was not the time to regret. Right now, they need me. I heard a pained shout behind me before I stepped into the river and turned around to face the monster. The female guard, Gwen, had fallen to the ground. The other kid lost his spear and was weathering blows with a shield that looked like a saucer compared to the monster's fists. He was the only thing standing between Gwen and the monster. I felt the anger and guilt burst inside me like a geyser. They were taking those hits for me. They were taking that pain for me. I wouldn't stand for that. I screamed, and I felt the water rushing to meet me. I charged the monster, and the river came with me.
I wasn't sure how I did it. I just poured all my emotions into a single thought: Fight. I pulled out the coin and flipped it into a sword. When I was halfway there I jumped and felt the water propelling me like a rocket. I was launched several feet into the air straight at the monster. Time slowed down as I gripped the sword with both hands and held it above my head like I was bringing down a hammer. I saw the monster looking at me with surprise and fear. I could see the guard staring at me, wide-eyed. I could feel the wind blowing at my face and the water giving me the strength of a superhuman – of a demigod.
I jammed my sword between the monster's eyes and it dissolved into dust. With nothing to land on, I fell to the ground, soaking wet and hurting in every part of my body. I coughed up the remains of the monster – it tasted like overcooked steak – and stood up to check on the other two. Gwen was still unconscious, but the other kid took off his helmet and stared. He was even paler than I thought, and his blond hair was now dripping wet. Everything between me and the river was drenched in water.
"That was… that was amazing," he whispered. He was clutching his shoulder where the gash was. "How did you do that?"
"I don't know. I just did." I looked at Gwen. "Is she alright?"
The other guy smiled tiredly. He must have been my age, maybe a year or two older. "She'll be fine once we get some nectar and ambrosia inside her."
He walked forward and stuck out his hand. Even though he was just in a fight for his life, he had a crazy gleam in his eyes, like he was just given a new toy to experiment with. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
"My name's Octavian. Who are you?"
"Hi. I'm… I'm passing out." I fell forward, and the world turned black.
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innerclouds · 5 years
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This was requested of me, send me more! <3
1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? More cereal then milk.
2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Yes.
3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Strips of paper.
4: how do you take your coffee/tea? Coffee: Black. Tea: Plain.
5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Yes.
6: do you keep plants? Yes.
7: do you name your plants? No.
8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Digital/Paper.
9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? No.
10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? Sides, I shift constantly.
11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? "Robush".
12: what’s your favorite planet? Neptune.
13: what’s something that made you smile today? Giant floofy chicken-gryphons.
14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Bed, couch, nice kitchen, tv, computers, consoles, tons of plants and pets.
15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! Don't even need to google it, I know one. There are "clouds" in space that taste like raspberries and smell like rum.
16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? Chicken alfredo.
17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? Purple or blue.
18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. "Celtic Necklace".
19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? No.
20: what’s your favorite eye color? Green/Hazel.
21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. Don't have one.
22: are you a morning person? No.
23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Nap.
24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? Yes.
25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? Cabin.
26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? Don't have any of those.
27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? Watermelon/Spearmint.
28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset.
29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? We share a rather accurate hivemind.
30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Yes.
31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. Socks are useful, I have a few myself including super fluffy, warm and fuzzy ones for winter.
32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. More closer to 2am then 3am, heli flew way lower then it should have and kept circling my place until after I turned off my computer screen and light, then it left.
33: what’s your fave pastry? Chocolate Éclair.
34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? Maggy. Cat. Yes.
35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? Stationary yes, but I loathe pens. No.
36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? Weathers.
37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? Clean.
38: tell us about your pet peeves! People who don't wash their hands after visiting the bathroom/before handling food.
39: what color do you wear the most? Black.
40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? Necklace, onyx pendant of my zodiac animal. Someone very close to me gave me it, it's very special to me.
41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? Raptor Red.
42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! I do not.
43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? Bae.
44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? In the company of the bae.
45: do you trust your instincts a lot? Yep.
46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. I honestly can't think of any off the top of my head.
47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? Sharkfin soup.
48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? That's a very long list and yes, more or less.
49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? Not really. Don't recall.
50: what’s an odd thing you collect? Rocks and anything with a specific gay red headed reaper.
51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? Studio Killers: Jenny.
52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? Idk.
53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? Rocky Horror: Yes. Amazing.
Heathers: No. No opinion.
Beetlejuice: Yes. Amazing.
Pulp Fiction: Yes. Amazing.
54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? Bae.
55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? Rather not say.
56: what are some things you find endearing in people? Amusing quirks.
57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? Great song but no different. No.
58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? Honestly never thought about that so I have no idea.
59: what’s your favorite myth? Cryptids.
60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? Yes. Ones bae writes.
61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? Game pixels. I was gifted a beer once.
62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? Orange/Grapefruit.
63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? I don't organize by titles or theme or anything, just keep them neat and clean.
64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Pitch black.
65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? No.
66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Woven blue irises/purple roses.
67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? Comfy.
68: what’s winter like where you live? Freezing and full of power outs.
69: what are your favorite board games? Balderdash.
70: have you ever used a ouija board? Nope.
71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? Black/Earl.
72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? Yes.
73: what are some of your worst habits? Pop all the joints.
74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Adorable, fluffy sheep.
75: tell us about your pets! His name is Rune and he has atomic shits and giant paws, he's also very old and grouchy.
76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? Sleeping.
77: pink or yellow lemonade? Arnold Palmer.
78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? I'm assuming you mean the little yellow pill looking guys, they're pretty adorable.
79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?
Anything and everything bae has ever done for me.
80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? Ugly wood paneling. No.
81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. Idk.
82: are/were you good in school? Good as in what? Behavior? I was behaved sure, but I was also the person people forgot was even in the class/school because I didn't speak to anyone/make a sound/have friends.
83: what’s some of your favorite album art? I honestly don't recall off the top of my head.
84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? Possibly.
85: do you read comics? what are your faves? I read manga if that counts: Kuroshitsuji Berserk JoJo Beastars
86: do you like concept albums? which ones? What's a concept album?
87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Not sure.
88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? No.
89: are you close to your parents? Mother: Sorta. Father: Nope.
90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. I only really know of one city enough to form an opinion on it and I wouldn't call it my favorite.
91: where do you plan on traveling this year? New place and visit bae.
92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? Ocean of cheese.
93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? Loose pony.
94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? Me.
95: what are your plans for this weekend? Work.
96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? Update before log off.
97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? Who? Rat. I don't know, I always get mixed results with that.
98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? I honestly can't recall.
99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Delta Heavy: White Flag Korpiklaani: Keep On Galloping Two Steps From Hell: Black Blade
100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? Neither.
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yasbxxgie · 5 years
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As a child entering primary school, I struggled figuring out what it meant to be Canadian. It was a somewhat amorphous word, and besides standing up for the anthem every morning and seeing the red and white flag wave in the school parking lot, I really didn’t know what qualified as Canadian. But as I was exposed to different people and different ideas throughout my childhood, I figured out quickly that the primary criteria one needed to fill to be Canadian was this: whiteness.
The Construct of Whiteness
Now, when I say ‘white’, I’m not talking about Caucasians. It’s important we understand that whiteness is a highly politicized construct that doesn’t apply to all people who have light skin. There are plenty of Caucasians — say, people from the near and middle east — whose skin tones vary greatly, but who for all intents and purposes, are not white.
This is because the concept of whiteness is not necessarily one of skin colour (although it can be), but rather, a concept of power. For example, although in North America we may consider Polish and Ukrainian immigrants to be ‘white’, they are heavily racialized in Britain and other Western European countries. South-eastern European immigrants from Serbia, Bosnia, Macedonia and Albania are considered undesirable in Switzerland compared to immigrants from Western and Northern European countries.
A Macedonian acquaintance with a master’s degree in electrical engineering, whose husband was living and working in Switzerland, was not granted residency until she acquired a non-Macedonian passport. Her family had some roots in non-Balkan countries, so she was able to leverage this, and after two long years living away from her husband, she was finally granted entry into Switzerland.
My point here is that whiteness is relative and often used to establish power dynamics. If you are the child of immigrants, as I and at least a third of my classmates were, you weren’t really Canadian, but something in between. It was like being the adopted child in a well-to-do family that constantly reminded you that your birth parents weren’t respectable enough to keep you. The more obviously different your parents were — perhaps through their appearance, dress, or way of speaking — the more you were coded as foreign, and by extension of that, privileged to be in Canada.
The Trauma of Migration
My parents left their country of birth in the 1980s, when my father anticipated its collapse in the years to come. I was born once they’d already settled into Canadian society, but from the moment I had enough self-awareness to read social cues, I knew we were different.
My mom wasn’t like the other moms. When my classmates got picked up from school, I saw women with straight, shoulder-length hair — usually blonde or light brown, sometimes with highlights. They wore fashionable clothing, clutched fancy purses with manicured nails, and masked their imperfections with flawless makeup.
But my mom didn’t care about fashion. She wore the same sets of clothing day in and day out and carried a giant, ratty old leather bag wherever she went. She had untamed, curly black hair and olive skin, spoke English with a harsh accent, rarely painted her nails, and hardly ever wore makeup.
Now, you might wonder what hair dye, makeup, and fashion have to do with whiteness. Generally, there isn’t much of a relationship; anyone can choose to look and dress a certain way.
However, when you’re born to parents who left a politically tumultuous homeland, you very quickly realize they suffer from a kind of survivor’s guilt. They carry shame for having abandoned their own parents and siblings for what they believed would be a better life. They don’t believe they deserve to have nice things, or that they can afford them (even when they can).
Every moment is haunted by the potential of loss. Tomorrow could be the day they lose everything, so nothing of excess is ever worth wasting precious resources on.
Simply put, many immigrants are traumatized by the very act of migration.
Often, immigrants struggle with economic and social disadvantage. Many immigrant families simply don’t have the luxury to look nice, and so for the immigrant child, even superficial things like clothing, nail polish, makeup, and hair dye on certain bodies can become important signifiers of not just class, but also whiteness.
My mother was too stressed and overworked, alienated and depressed to care about fashion. She didn’t have any friends and felt uncomfortable with white women — partly for cultural reasons, and partly because of her accent. In fact, she was so self-conscious about her accent, she didn’t speak a word of English to me until I went to kindergarten. She didn’t want me to learn English from her because she was afraid I’d learn her accent, so she instead waited until I could learn ‘proper’ English from my teachers and classmates.
Her goal was to make sure that I was assimilated and that I fit in at all costs, and this desire was directly informed by her own feelings of alienation in Canadian society. Whatever differences I observed between her and the other moms must have been amplified ten-fold for her.
But I learned that my mom wasn’t the only one who was different. I was different too, and I struggled relating to other kids. I wasn’t exposed to the same media and culture that they were. I didn’t wear the same clothes, eat the same food, and I didn’t tell the same jokes, anecdotes or stories. It became very clear that I was a foreigner, even though I was living only a few kilometers from the hospital I’d been born in.
A Chimera Trying to be a Chameleon
When I was seven years old, I had my first play-date with a white classmate — let’s call her Karen. Karen’s family was some nth generation Canadian, with a clear family tree of every ancestor from the past few centuries. Karen had stunning, pale blue eyes and strawberry blonde locks that I desperately yearned for. During summer, I’d spend hours in the sun hoping that my dark hair would lighten.
“Am I turning blonde yet?” I’d excitedly ask my mother after spending a day in Karen’s yard.
Yet all that accomplished was sunburns for Karen and brown skin for me.
“Oh my God, you look like a Sri Lankan!” Karen’s mother and aunt laughed when they saw me.
At the time, I didn’t know that Sri Lankan was an ethnicity. I didn’t know what the comment meant or why it felt bad, but I had the impression that there was something funny or embarrassing about how dark my skin had turned seemingly overnight. There shouldn’t be anything embarrassing about looking like a certain ethnicity, but the tone with which I’d been told made me feel like I was somehow wrong.
Although I always knew my ethnicity, I didn’t learn about my muddled racial heritage until much later. I know that I am mixed race, but I’ll never know the extent of it, because imperial legacy does a wonderful job of erasing records and lineages.
While most people of Western European descent have the luxury of knowing where their ancestors are from — which great-grandparent was German, French, or British — people whose ancestors hail from Africa, the Middle East, or the Balkans can only speculate based on limited records and oral history.
Where there is empire, there is a deep loss for the children who are born after that empire crumbles. We want to know our roots. We want to know what our heritage is and where we belong. All I know is that I have diverse roots that have molded me into someone who is sometimes coded as white, and sometimes as something else.
The Universal Woman is White
These were my first encounters with soft racism, but even as they happened, I learned that there was far worse. I didn’t think what was happening to me was racism. As a kid, I assumed racism could only happen to black people, because everyone in my predominantly white neighbourhood seemed to have opinions about black people.
I remember overhearing Karen’s mother say that she would never want her son to date a black woman.
“They’re aggressive,” she argued, “and their butts look weird.”
“Really?” Karen’s aunt replied. “I think they have gorgeous bodies — such nice curves.”
In this brief exchange I had been exposed to two immensely toxic ideas:
First, that what mattered in a woman before all else was how well she conformed to white standards of beauty; and second, that black women are either dangerous and to be avoided, or exotic objects to be fetishized.
Of course, I didn’t have the language I do now to describe these ideas, but it would be a lie to say I didn’t understand them. Even as a third grader, I knew implicitly what these statements meant, and they affected how I understood myself as a girl and an immigrant, and how I understood other women of colour.
It entrenched in me an unconscious drive to be as white as possible. Until I was in my late teens, I kept dying my hair blonde, dieting, and begging my mother to let me wear coloured contacts. I wasn’t intentionally trying to whitewash myself, but I had internalized the standards of white beauty to such a degree that I genuinely believed I would look better with Keira Knightley’s frame, blonde hair, and green eyes.
And yet through it all, whenever someone asked me if I was white, I’d balefully reply that I was, in fact, beige.
***
I mentioned in an earlier piece, A Critique Privilege, Oppression, and Other Such Loaded Concepts, that calling myself ‘beige’ became my way of creating a space for myself. I knew from an early age that ‘white’ didn’t fit. But I also didn’t identify with any of the more established minorities in my neighbourhood. Rather, I occupied an ambiguous space where my race became subject to debate depending on my context.
Beige’ is my way of honouring my experiences of soft racism, of alienation, liminality, and of my family’s sacrifices. It’s a way to ensure I never forget the violent and complicated legacy of imperialism. It’s a reminder that whiteness is often oversimplified and too easily thrown around without consideration. This oversimplification is not just unfair to white-passing people of colour; it obscures exploitation and oppression that hinges on whiteness as a tool of power, wielded by a certain group of people. Without proper nuance, whiteness becomes too sweeping, too general — and something that speaks of everything fails to actually speak about anything at all.
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Day 144: Going East
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Today, after two and a half months in (mostly) English-speaking countries, it was finally time to dive back into continental Europe. And we'd be diving pretty deep--all the way over to Poland.
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After our last British breakfast, we took a taxi out to the Inverness airport. Our flight was at 10:55, and our host had recommended leaving at 8:30  to make sure we had plenty of time.
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Back when we first arrived in Scotland, we'd thought that flying out of Dublin was as easy as it could get (not counting the Burger King incident). But Inverness was on another level. Checking in, dropping off our bags, and going through security took less than 15 minutes total. That left us plenty of time to browse the airports impressively stocked whisky shop and admire the airport's three gates. Not three terminals--three gates.
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Our flight was with KLM Royal Dutch Airlines and included a layover in Amsterdam. We were a little nervous about the layover because it would only be 35 minutes long. But the tickets had all been booked directly through KLM, so we figured that we could trust their judgement.
It worked out, but I’m not so sure about their judgement.
Our flight from Inverness actually left early, and we arrived in Amsterdam over ten minutes ahead of schedule. Which was a very good thing, because we were at the far end of one terminal while our next flight was at the far end of the opposite terminal. And half of the moving walkways were out of service. And we had to go through passport control.
There was a fast-track lane for short connections at passport control, but an attendant told us to go into the main line anyway. This wasn’t an Inverness or even a Dublin line–this was a major-international-hub line. After waiting in this line for about ten minutes, our mental math was raising red flags. We would have a hard time getting through the line before our flight took off, let alone getting all the way to the gate, which was still a considerable walk beyond the passport control desks.
Just as we were getting ready to ask again, another attendant came up and shouted for us to get over into the fast-track line.
Passports stamped, we speedwalked straight to the gate, bypassing several badly needed bathrooms, and only just made it to the gate at the scheduled opening time. If our plane from Inverness hadn't arrived early, we might not have made it to our gate even if we hadn't gotten stuck at passport control.
Luckily for us, our next plane was also late, so we had time to use the toilets and grab a cold beverage from a vending machine before hopping on the bus that took us to our plane. It was smaller than the plane we took from Dublin to Edinburgh, but it did have jet engines instead of turboprops–so I still count it as an upgrade.
The flight was smooth, and soon enough we were stepping out into Krakow's John Paul II Airport. We decided to get some Polish Złotys (pronounced “zwah-tes”) from the airport ATMs (or "Bankomats") before hailing a taxi from into town. We ended up withdrawing way more money than we needed--the interface had been designed to make it look like you couldn't pull out smaller amounts unless you looked closely.
As it turned out, we probably would have been better off skipping ATMs in Poland altogether.
I always imagined Eastern Europe as a very cash-based place, but that couldn't have been further from the truth--at least in Krakow. Everyone there seems to use credit cards for everything. Spending the 100zł bills that we'd gotten from the ATMs (worth about $25 US) was nearly impossible. Even at large grocery stores and tourist sites, the cashiers would just shake their heads and smile at us condescendingly as if we were simpletons trying to pay with rocks.
We eventually went looking for a bank or currency exchange that would break some of our larger bills for us and gave up after a frustratingly unsuccessful hour of searching. Two of the currency exchanges (or "kantors") practically laughed us out of the doors.
I have to admit that I got angry once or twice over this odd phenomenon. There are ATMs everywhere in Krakow. How is it possible that everyone is using them when the money they dispense is worthless?
It actually seemed like there was a shortage of small bills and coins going on. When I tried to buy 41zł worth of groceries with a 50zł note, the cashier was visibly distressed at the prospect of having to scrounge together 9zł in change. When Jessica managed to rustle up a 1zł coin from her wallet (bringing the change to a single 10zł bill), the cashier's face lit up with relief and gratitude.
All of this wouldn't have been a much smaller deal if my credit card hadn't stopped working back in Scotland. We never figured out why, but at some point my credit card's chip had gotten corrupted and slowly started working less and less reliably. By the time we reached Krakow, it had stopped working altogether. I eventually got comfortable using Android Pay at places that took it, but Jessica ended up making most of our in-person purchases for the remaining two months of the trip.
But all of that was still ahead of us in the coming hours and days. For now, we happily made our way to the airport taxi stand with cash in hand and got a ride into town.
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The first thing that struck me about Poland–and I noticed it from the airplane window before we even landed–was the totally unique landscape. I’ve seen forests, farmland, and urban sprawl before, but never mixed together quite so thoroughly. On the 30-minute drive from the airport into town, we passed through dense forests, low-density farmland, and a wilderness adventure park. Even in the suburban periphery of the city, apartment blocks are separated by cornfields as well as vacant lots.
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This patchwork aesthetic extends to the architecture of the old city itself. On any given street, the buildings form a mosaic that tells the long and turbulent story of Poland’s past, from the middle ages through the 21st century. Many struck me as ironically eastern European, with inward-sloping buttressed walls and steep, almost pagoda-like roofs. Others looked straight out of Renaissance Venice or Imperial Vienna. And, of course, there are the Brutalist mementos of Soviet austerity.
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What holds it all together is a charmingly rough-around-the-edges spirit of making do with what you have. Concrete walls patched with plaster, plaster walls patched with plywood. Walking down an alleyway between two buildings, you might tread on tile, cement, and gravel all in the space of thirty yards.
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But this is not a third-world country. Enter into one of these unassuming domiciles, and you might find a surprisingly luxurious abode.
Like ours.
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Poland is not a wealthy country. But that means that a little money can go a long way. And while you may trip on a pothole or slip on a patch of sand outdoors, you can come home to a bathtub bigger than any I’ve enjoyed in the States.
The second thing I noticed about Poland are the people. They are both the most reserved and the most outgoing people I’ve met in Europe.
Professionally and in public, everyone is just a blank face in the crowd. Our taxi driver from the airport did not make a single attempt at small talk the entire ride (not that I’m complaining!), and shopkeepers have no trouble flatly declining to assist you if you ask for something they don’t want to do.
But if you engage them personally, as a friend, guest, or tour companion, you’ll have trouble getting a word in edgewise as they talk your ears off with kind enthusiasm, sincere questions, and thoughtful advice.
Obviously, this is a stereotype and doesn’t apply to everyone in Poland. But it’s exactly what Jessica–who spent a summer here in 2010–told me to expect, and it’s exactly what I’ve experienced.
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Another funny quirk is that two of Poland's biggest chain stores are named after animals. The main supermarket chain is called Biedronka, which means ladybug, and the main convenience store chain is called Zabka, which means frog.
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After checking into our Airbnb and stocking up on groceries, Jessica could hardly wait to take me into the old town. Rick Steves says there isn’t a better city in Europe for just wandering around in, and I can’t say I disagree.
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The main market square is spectacular–like Venice’s San Marco Square and Madrid’s Puerta del Sol rolled into one.
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The old Renaissance merchant hall dominates the center of the square, and St. Mary’s Basilica stands proudly overlooking its northern corner.
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Technically, the church only has one tower. The taller tower on the left–the one with the crown encircling its spire–is officially a city watchtower. According to legend, a 13th-century watchman was struck silent by an enemy arrow in the middle of trumpeting an alarm. Now, every hour on the hour, a trumpeter plays the same traditional anthem almost but not quite to completion in his honor.
The curtailed call is also used by the Polish national radio broadcaster, so it is a familiar sound across the country.
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After taking a peek inside the market hall and up at the nearby clock tower–the remains of an otherwise-demolished medieval city hall–we meandered up the main road to the barbican gate–one of the few remaining parts of Krakow’s medieval walls.
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Unlike the many European cities that turned their medieval walls into ring roads, Krakow turned their walls into a green belt surrounding the old city center. Like many Polish names, it was unintentionally amusing to us as English speakers--Planty Park.
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As we walked back down the main tourist drag, Jessica noted how much the place had changed in just the past eight years. A local café she'd wanted to take me to had been replaced by a Starbucks, and there were a lot more ethnic restaurants than she remembered seeing before. Though not all of them looked especially authentic.
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Tired and thirsty, we headed back to our flat after stopping for drinks at a Zabka along the way. It was a warm night, but thankfully the windows were big and opened wide. As much as I had feared a culture shock, and our currency-related annoyances notwithstanding, our arrival in Poland had been surprisingly smooth. We were comfortable, well-fed, and excited to see what the city had to offer.
Next Post: Schindler’s Factory and St. Mary’s Basilica
Last Post: Resting Up (Markets, Museums, and More Pizza)
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Submitted (Tailor Anon):
I can not believe that Moronic Meg wore the colour of the Irish flag. For a trip in Northern Ireland. Northern. Whilst representing the British Royal Family. She is so clueless.
I’m Northern Irish. I now live in England. I went to a grammar school that was mixed Catholics and Protestants. We weren’t allowed to sing the British national anthem in school in case it caused offence to the Catholic students. We didn’t have flags anywhere in the school.
A very, very, very simplified version of our very complicated and sensitive political ways- Protestants fly the union flag, catholics the Irish flag. If you go to Protestant areas in Northern Ireland (not all areas- just the heavily politicised ones) the edges of the pavements are painted red, white and blue (they want Northern Ireland to remain part of the Uk) If you go to aCatholic area the pavements are green, white and gold (orange) (they want Northern Ireland to be part of Ireland again) It’s more a political thing than a religious one. To simplify it- Protestant= English. Catholic= Irish.
Protestants support the royal family. Catholics do not. (I am really simplifying this because It would be the loooongest post if I fully went into detail of Irish history and the importance of religion, national identity and flags and this post will be long enough) Which is why her wearing green white and orange is probably one of the thickest things she has done to date. Completely insensitive and clueless to Northern Ireland and Ireland’s history. She is wearing the colours of the flag of the side of Northern Ireland that don’t want anything to do with the English.
I can not believe someone didn’t advise her. Someone at the palace had to have given her some sort of briefing on Northern Ireland. Did she not question why the visit there had to be kept under wraps? I just can’t. She brands herself as being whip smart and political and she can’t even do a simple google search on the country she’s about to visit? She can’t ask questions? This is what genuinely smart people do. She’s actually starting to make me cross. This is theme dressing gone wrong. She should have just dressed up as a leprechaun and be done with it. Kate theme dresses but when she does it’s done with sensitivity and a bit of research. She may be a little cliched on occasion but she hasn’t to my knowledge caused offence. And Kate looks polished. And like a member of the royal family. Not like an office worker who is nipping to Starbucks on her tea break after a heavy night at the pub.
Just ugh.
Meghan- for the love of god will you please invest in a hairbrush. And some hair serum. My hair looks like that when I go to the gym. Actually it looks like that when I leave the gym. It’s scruffy and unkempt. Her hair has looked good on the red carpet so she has no excuse.
Get some tights. Wolford do some really nice quality ones- they also like merching so she should hit them up. I’ve used them for ballet dancers before so she should have no problem with the fit and they don’t fall down on the crotch or ladder after a long day of wear.
Get some shoes that fit. Preferably ones that colour match the rest of the outfit. Not a colour that completes some idiotic idea of getting the locals to like you.
Stop carrying useless, twee, Mary Poppins style bags.
Why can’t she wear a coat that fits!!!!!!!!! Or at least fasten it. We all saw what she was wearing when she took her coat off inside. So she didn’t need to have her coat open so we could all see her outfit. Not that it matters if we see what’s under the coat- Kensington palace will be tweeting what brand of knickers she wears soon. The coat was flying all over the place in the wind. A fitted, tailored coat can look both royal appropriate and fashionable- why does she seem afraid of fitted coats I just can’t get my head around it?
I like this coat- I would wear it myself. To meet my friends for brunch. But I would be very aware that it is not a coat you want to be photographed in. It’s shapeless and moves. It’s smart casual. A good stylist would have advised her to swing catch the lapels down so they have a little bit of movement but they don’t flap all about the place.
The main part of these visits is to be photographed. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again- she needs to choose her outfit, it needs to be fitted. She then has to have someone photograph the outfit on her- as she walks across a naturally, well lit room, as she stands, as she sits- this will give her a good indication as to how she will look on the front pages of a newspaper. And she really, really needs to get someone from the palace to start approving her looks. She’s proven too many times now that she isn’t hitting the nail on the head. She’s actually missing the nail so badly that the hammer is smashing giant holes in the wall.
There may be stuff going on behind the scenes (ie- they all actively dislike her) and she’s been left to her own devices. But at the end of the day- she is a representative of the Royal family and a representative of the UK. She needs to start dressing for her role. The advisors need to man up and tell her what the craic is. She has to look more polished. More put together. A whole lot neater and like a member of the family she is joining.
She needs to learn to dress her body type. She can’t wear baggy tops with a tight skirt. She is top heavy (by this I mean she has very slender legs and a wide waist and her upper body is a wide in comparison to her slim legs) and the baggy top exaggerates this. I think she thinks the tucked in and slightly pulled out look will disguise her waistline. But it draws attention to it. I don’t want this to seem like I am body shaming. Every single person has their flaws- it’s learning to work with them. She has really great things about her body too.
Im sorry- this isn’t my best post. It’s really ranty 😂😂😂 I’m so distracted by her Irish flag theme dressing that I genuinely can’t properly critique her outfit today.
To sum it up- dragged through a hedge backwards.
Totally looking forward to what all your anons have to say about this today 😁😁
Thank you so much for sending this in! This is exactly the kind of perspective I was looking for. 
I doubt she understood the significance of the flag. In the US it’s just a cultural symbol.
However, this is not the first time she does this. In January 2016 she met with Indian opposition party members during her India trip. It was swept under the carpet and everyone focused on the menstruation stuff, but it was still agonizingly tone deaf. She wants to be political and be an activist, but she doesn’t know enough and the worst part is that she doesn't even know that she doesn’t know, if you get my drift. She doesn't realize how ignorant she is so she just keeps making mistakes. I don’t know much about NI history, but I knew enough to go “wait a minute” when I saw the Irish flag colors.
And they are getting no help from anyone. She supposedly had access to Harry’s aides when she planned the India trip, but no one told her to stay away from the politicians. Likewise, they must have had support for this trip, but not one caught the ROI flag colors. It’s amateur hour all around. Completely bizarre.
I hope this gets swept under the rug again because no one wants to start Irish troubles over stupid Meghan Markle’s clothes, but these mistakes keep piling up and eventually (particularly since Dumb and Dumber are being sent to the Commonwealth countries, oy vey) one of them is going to blow up on their faces. And when the explosion occurs, they are not going to be able to claim ignorance or mistake because they are positioning themselves as the “political” royals.
I complain about a lot of stupid crap on this blog, but the stuff that is really going to get them into trouble is the spending and the politics.
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