#high and throwing bouncy balls as hard as I could to get them to bounce off the ceiling and the rope swing in the backyard and eating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toast-tales · 9 months

Text

I Lava You, Chapter 6: Stuck Like Glue

Read Chapter 1 here!

Cover art by @luckyshotwrites!

This short story takes place after P39 of ITWOM and as such, contains minor, minor spoilers for ITWOM - read at your own risk! You do NOT need to have read WIDFALI to enjoy this story!

This story is cowritten with the amazing, fantastic @luckyshotwrites and uses the minor character June from their ongoing vore story What I'd Do For A Livable Income. It's chock full of monsters, magic, goofs, and absolutely fantastic worldbuilding and characters. Give it a shot if you haven't yet!

Contains: references to g/t soft, safe vore. ~1000 words.

Chapter 6: Stuck Like Glue

June specified that they were talking about themselves, not humans in general. That way I'm not lying. Still, June's shoulders slacked with the lies he carried.

“Nope. I don’t feel pain—” AH! Wait, normal humans feel pain. No—Tristan told me some humans don't. “I was born very different from humans…I don’t feel pain, so I won’t get hurt if you throw me.” June was blissfully unaware of his friend’s intentions.

He felt the extra squish from Sam’s anticipation.

These words from June were all it took to remove the inhibitors from Sam’s questionable urges. They stood up, June in hand, and looked around for a suitably clear path from them to the wall.

They looked down at the human in their hand, and a moment of hesitation hit them. Am I sure they’re not gonna get hurt?

Unfortunately, Sam’s excitement was beating out the shred of concern they had, aided by the fact that they trusted whatever came out of this human’s mouth. Probably more than they should. Hey, he said it was fine!

Sam eyed the blank spot on the wall ahead of them and gave June one last look, their nerves buzzing with excitement. A wide grin spread across their face. “Alright, little buddy, I gotta see this.”

That was all the warning the giant gave before winding their arm back and flinging the unsuspecting slime towards the wall as hard as they could.

June swung back with Sam's arm, then with the velocity of a thousand meteors, his body collided with the wall. June's body splatted against the wall and flattened upon impact.

He at least maintained the fleshy color of his "skin". As if a human could do this.

He went as flat as construction paper before popping back into his humanoid shape. His fell from the wall and bounced back onto the ground like a bouncy ball. He chortled softly, completely unharmed.

June laid with his back against the floor, looking at Sam upside-down because of his head’s angle.

“That was so much fun!” June had endured plenty of high falls on his old world too. “You throw really fast!”

Sam watched the scene unfold before them with amazement, their eyes sparkling with childish glee. This was helped by June’s enthusiasm, who was amazingly unharmed by this whole thing.

“That was SO FUCKING COOL!” they exclaimed, running over to June and picking them up in a fit of excitement. “I’ve never tried anything like that with a human before.”

Their mind buzzed with possibilities. The first thing that came to mind was kicking June around like a little human hackey-sack, but they put that thought aside. For now.

The second thought was, obviously, showing June off to Christopher and providing him with a demonstration. But…nah, they’d wait until tomorrow.

Sam casually tossed June up in the air like a wadded-up piece of paper before catching them again. “You are by far the coolest human I’ve ever found, little buddy.”

June liked the rush of air when being thrown up and then caught.

The slime’s body bubbled happily. Coolest? Me? He knew the human vernacular meant one of two things. It could mean that he was cool to the touch—but…June was fairly certain his body wasn’t cold. Which meant…

He clung to Sam’s hand, affectionately. “You mean it?!”

“Hell yeah!” Sam resisted the urge to toss June at the wall again, though their arm itched to do so. “You got any more cool tricks?” They took a seat back at their desk, still holding June securely (a relative term if there ever was one) in their hands, subconsciously squeezing parts of June between their fingers as they did so.

June had plenty of “cool tricks.” But I can’t show Sam any of them! He whined in his head as Sam squeezed again. He didn’t mind it—he let the gentle rolls of Sam’s clutch and release massage him.

“None that I can think of,” June replied. His big, round, curious eyes looked up at Sam. “What about you? Do you have any really cool tricks you can do?”

Sam thought about it for a while. They didn’t think June would be overly impressed by their amateur lockpicking skills. They turned back to their PC, remembering what they had been distracted from earlier. Suddenly, their eyes glanced over one of the icons on the desktop, and a wide smile broke on their face. They hadn’t had someone to show off to in a long time, and the excitement almost bubbled over in them.

“OH! I’ve been working at getting this sixth-level map and I think I’ve mastered it,” Sam enthused, getting swept away in their addiction to their favorite rhythm game. They were about to position their fingers over the keys as usual when they realized they’d have to let go of the squishy human to do so. They let go of June, though with the slightest hint of reluctance.

“Here, here, check this out.”

For the next hour, Sam gave June a front-row view of a very flashy, colorful display with both the game and RGB lighting of their keyboard, mouse, and PC lighting up and swapping colors as they played. It was clear Sam had some level of skill with the game. Sam gave June more information and fun facts about the game than the slime would ever want to know.

June, situated between Sam and their keyboard, watched the screen bustling with joy. He cheered Sam on when they did well, and served their famous special encouragement platter when they messed up, which they freely served to friends 7 days a week.

June himself wasn’t skilled with games—many times, he would end up staring into space when he played, admiring the beautiful scenes instead.

In this case, the lights of the keyboard pulled him away. He wasn’t bored by any means—he simply felt happy to be there and to observe his new friend succeed.

This opportunity was granted by his glasses—before, the world was pretty dark, nearly black with sprinkles of energy-filled light from individuals. And now, he could see everything in awe-inspiring detail.

The game would be entertaining enough that Sam would almost forget about the fact that they had a human to eat with them—at least, until their stomach started growling again.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

<- Chapter 5

Hey, this IS a vore story...right? Remember?

Thanks for your patience on this update - and we might need to ask for that patience again, but thank you for reading!

#i lava you #widfali #itwom #widfalitwom #oc sam #widfali june #vore writing #vore stories #gt vore #g/t vore #g/t vore story #gt vore story #safe vore #soft vore #sfw vore #nonsexual vore

32 notes · View notes

quirkwizard · 8 months

Note

Do you think SCP-018 could work as a quirk? Basically a quirk that lets the user form a soft glowing red sphere about 6 centimeters in diameter in the user hand, when this object comes into contact with a surface the sphere absorbs the recoil and converts the kinetic energy to cause the ball to double its speed with every bounce. I was thinking to prevent the quirk from accelerating to much and prevent the user from causing accidentally damage the user can release the quirk and cause the ball to vanish with any energy being lost and maybe the more energy the quirk has the brighter the ball glows.

Maybe? I'm not sure about the execution. As it is, it seems too easy to snowball. Well-balanced snowballing abilities should be more limited, either in how hard it is to build up or how limited the actual benefit is. All the user needs to do is throw the ball or have something that can launch it out at high speeds, and it seems pretty simple to build up from there. There doesn't seem to be any cap on it either, which is also an issue when trying to make something that snowballs. What's more, they have an easy out by getting rid of the ball. I think you could have a Quirk based around a bouncy ball in general. You could still have the buildup of the balls as they bounce. Just put a cap on how fast they go and don't make it the main focus of the Quirk. Instead, you could have it so the user can make more of them and make it more about overwhelming people with the amount of bouncy balls. I could make that into a Quirk if you want.

#My Hero Academia #Quirks #Quirk Reviews

6 notes · View notes

bitegore · 2 years

Note

Well Red if you wake at 3 am tonight (though I do hope you can sleep more) I invite you to think about what your favorite idiot think of your favorite group of idiots. What does vortex think of each of the Stunticons? And Mixmaster (cause I gotta throw in a random constructicon)

OOOH okay :D

Vortex thinks Motormaster is a fucking embarrassment but he's really fun to rile up because he gets really mad so easily. "If Megatron wanted a bruiser with nothing in his head, couldn't he have just taken a bunch of those drones he sicced on the autobots back with us? who would even notice the difference"

Vortex thinks Drag Strip is also a fucking embarrassment but he's really fun to rile up because it's so easy to hurt his feelings while keeping him coming back for more because he takes backhanded compliments so personally. He's like a walking psychological 'poke me' box, it's funny as fuck.

Vortex thinks Dead End is kind of boring up until Dead End, sent by someone else, is like "[awkward smile] hello. you can um, send me away but um, so, um, uh, i was uh, talking, and, uh, someone told me you might have? uh???? snuff porn could i borrow some please ill give it back in an hour i just really want to see it PLEASE" and now Vortex is like vaguely fascinated. This fully comes from one fic I read (What You Wish For by Ultharkitty) and i am going to run with it and no one can stop me.

Vortex doesn't really like Wildrider because Wildrider is both a) annoying, b) hard to get a rise out of, and c) annoying. Did I mention that one? He gets on Vortex's last nerve. Wildrider is, like, not nearly as mean as Vortex but they're on some pretty similar drifts except it's actually harder to get under Wildrider's plating than it is to get under Vortex's. Vortex has a big obvious gaping weakness called 'loyalty coding' and it's funny (for a given value of funny) to get him to trip it, and Wildrider likes watching things break and fall. So they don't get along well. Vortex has plans for Wildrider.

Vortex thinks Breakdown is funny. He's just so easy to rile up and he doesn't even try to get Vortex back for it most of the time, he just freaks out and runs scared. It's great. 10/10 excellent chew toy, probably Vortex's favorite out of the five of them because he's so entertaining to play with literally all of the time. Plus he's actually got some kind of solid core under there? You'd think that it'd GET to him but he keeps bouncing back. (Which, of course, just makes it more fun to treat him like a bouncy ball by metaphorically hurling him into the nearest wall as hard as possible.)

Vortex thinks Mixmaster makes the good high-grade, which is very important to him. His favorite Constructicon is probably Hook but he actually plays nice with Mixmaster (or, like, at least nice-ish). Mixmaster may be kind of crazy but he is unfortunately for Vortex not stupid, so he finds this deeply suspicious and so does every single other Constructicon. very depressing for our favorite horrible helicopter because he just wants candy and booze and they're acting like he's here to scheme. awful :( terrible :( why would you think such horrible things of me :((

#red replies #fireyhotsupertalia #vortex #wildrider #motormaster #drag strip #breakdown #dead end #mixmaster #bitegore meta

9 notes · View notes

boislut-neo · 3 years

Note

So Neo, I heard you're always the first one invited to "boys only" parties. Just a couple of dudes being bros, nothing weird about that right?

Neo giggled quietly to himself as the music blasted throughout the room, a guys night with tons of much larger, much more masculine students all gathered around and enjoying some drinks~ Dudes being bros, guys being guys, and Neo, squat down low on a table twerking those extra fat globes of pale, wobbly, rippling boi booty for the men all watching and sitting back~! Just bros being bros, obviously~!

Nothing weird about Neo dressed like a naughty little whore for all these men, just some friendly dares~! Like how they dared him to come to the party dressed in his favorite little pair of skintight, pink and white booty shorts that rode up between his bouncing cheeks like a thong, showing off his cute and pathetic little bulge while he shook his fat ass like a pro stripper for the men behind him~! Said little booty shorts obviously said "Butt Slut" across each of his plump, slutty cheeks~

There were other bois doing similar things, but Neo didn't care, not when he wiggled, shook, and bounced his wide, feminine hips for the group behind him, both of those pale globes wobbling with each twerk of his girly ass, lewdly clapping together to the music while he heard the men he was entertaining cheer and catcall~! Some even threw singles at his twerking ass while others recorded the show, flashes of cameras and calls for private shows following close behind~

Neo worked hard to bring these studs to 'the dark side', guys nights getting more frequent, and growing with each one, and all because one slutty little boi wanted to show that bois made the best fuckdolls~ The squeals and squeaks of the other bois getting railed obviously meant that the party was finally getting started, and the nice hard smack across his pale cheeks was all the signal Neo needed to drop down from his little stage and plop his girly ass on a stud's lap, twerking his extra juicy, creamy smooth cheeks up and down the massive log in the stud's pants~

One look over his shoulder, and a cute little wink, proved the stud was who Neo thought it was, the massive green haired member of Team SSSN, a stud twice Neo's size, and with a cock as thick as his girly wrist~ A cock that's wrecked little cute little boipussy more then a few times, and it's always a treat, no matter how much Emerald tells the little slut to stay away from him~

"Fuckin' hell I love those shorts." Was all Neo heard growled into his ear before he felt a large pair of hands on his wide hips, the man helping him grind his cock between those cheeks by humping to match his twerking~

Neo only giggled, smiling and letting the man hump his cheeks as much as he wanted~ Neo was here to please, the entertainment of the party~ He didn't need to be paid though, the exchange was simple~ The studs of the party got a couple of holes to fuck, and use, and abuse all night, and Neo got all the fat, musky, veiny, throbbing cocks his little heart desired~!

Speaking of, Neo looked to the right of him where an equally large stud sat, looking at his fat ass appreciatively, and with a large bulge of his own~ Neo loved parties, cause it meant he was allowed to reach over, all while Sage enjoyed his twerking, undo the man's pants, and pull free his massive pillar of throbbing meat, palming the broad, precum leaking tip while he admired the size and shape~

Atop the man's long red hair were an extra pair of ears, long and canine like, well, Neo hoped canine, and he was proven right when his girly fingers slid up and down that fat cock and down to the wide knot at the base of his bitchbreaker, making Neo's needy little heart flutter~

The loud and meaty smack across his ass broke him from his needy trance, his cheeks jiggling and rippling long after the slap from Sage, and Neo knew he was too horny for the foreplay, he needed to be fucked now~!

Motioning the knotty stud to move over, Neo lodged himself on all hours in the middle of the couch between both studs, his absolutely bouncy bubble booty raised high and bouncing for Sage while Neo lowered his face down to the fat knotted cock, his plump, glossy lips meeting the tip for a quick kiss before spearing that cock halfway down his throat with a loud, wet, nasty gag and slurp~!

Neo's lips were sealed perfectly around that doggy cock like a vacuum as he slid it out of his throat and mouth to the tip, cheeks hollowed, his lips dragging along it for the sluttiest little blowjob face the man had ever seen, all while loud, wet, needy slurping and sucking echoed past his glossy lips~ The man above him could only groan in pleasure, and Neo heard Sage behind him, undoing his belt before he felt his slutty booty shorts get yanked down his meaty thighs~

With only a tiny thong between his cute little hole and Sage's masculine bitchbreaker, Neo wiggled his ass for the man before he felt that massive, steel hard, veiny monster slap down between his cheeks for a quick hotdogging~! Neo's own tiny little clitty leaked helplessly in his pretty pink panties as Sage grabbed his plump cheeks and spread them for his cock, pulling the thong aside to press the tip of his leaking cock against the adorable little pink pucker~

And just as Neo slurped hard on the fat cock between his lips, feeling the man grab a fist full of his pink and brown hair to force his throat down on that fat cock till the fat knot pushed passed his lips and into his mouth, Neo couldn't help the girly squeal as he felt Sage slam balls deep in one hard, fast, brutal thrust of his narrow hips~

"Fuuuuuck!" Neo wasn't even sure who said it, one nuts deep in his throat, the other balls deep in his boipussy, Neo could barely remember his own name passed the feeling of getting stuffed like a naughty little whore and the raw, masculine, musk of the stud's pubes his nose was buried in~!

Sage knew how Neo liked it though, so without a single second wasted he yanked his cock to the tip out of his pretty little hole and slammed back in even harder and faster, starting up a brutal, animalistic pace of fucking that fat ass so hard and fast he swore the whole party could hear those fat cheeks clapping against his hips, both globes rippling with every single smack of flesh on flesh while his cock spread that hole wide~

Neo's entire world rocked and bounced as a massive stud twice his size fucked his little backdoor like it was his personal fucksleeve, slamming in nuts deep like a jackhammer, his own fat, dark, musky balls slapping against his cute little coinpurse and reminding Neo how pathetic his little package is in the best way possible~! And between his lips Neo was currently getting his tonsils swabbed by that fat knotted cock, his new faunus friend realizing bois were made to get pounded like sluts~

Nuts slapped against Neo's chin while a knot filled his mouth, and each and every single fast, brutal slam into his asshole of that massive monster cock banged against his little prostate in ways that made his little cock squirt watery, pathetic cum with every, single, thrust~!

Neo's eyes were crossed in pure pleasure while he squealed like the whore he was, loving every single second of his double stuffing while he gagged, choked, and cried from the cock in his throat~! Mascara poured down his cheeks while the pleasure overwhelmed his slutty mind~!

At some point Neo heard the faunus between his lips swear and snarl before he felt and tasted a thick, stringy, chunky, yummy blast of nut into his mouth and down his throat, and he didn't even need to wait to start swallowing that cum like water~! Looking up at the man Neo opened up wide as he yanked free and blasted a last few ropes of nut across his cute little face, right across his tongue, and even covering one eye~

Of course behind him, Sage wasn't so quick to cum, pushing Neo's face down against the couch and really making him arch his back~! Neo drooled and squealed as the man really got into his anal railing, slamming in so hard and fast he swore he heard the couch creak under him, the loud slapping of wet flesh on flesh so loud he knew other were watching, and Neo fucking loved feeling so small and helpless for a real man to use and fuck like he owned him~!

"Fucking hell!!" Sage snarled, slamming in as hard and fast as he could into the naughty little faggot, blowing his back out while he slam fucked that fat girly ass like he hated the little boi slut. Fuck that little hole felt like a goddamn vice around his cock, and he couldn't stop himself from giving that fat ass a nice hard slap on each cheek, just to leave his hand print on those wobbly globes. "You love that fucking cock, don't you faggot!!"

Sage never minded if it was a chick or a boi, as long as they had a nice fat ass to pound full of cum, he was a happy guy, and Neo just so happened to be the smallest, thiccest little girlyboi he'd ever fucked~

Neo's panties were a mess as every single slam against his P-spot made him squirt, made him cum like a little whore from that massive monster balls deep in his little boipussy~! And he just couldn't stop himself from grabbing the edge of the couch and throwing his fat, girly bubble butt back into Sage's thrusts, squealing and crying in pure pleasure the whole time.

The large stud could barely hold back from blowing his load right then and there, but he knew there was a right way to fuck a whore like Neo.

Sweat dripped down their bodies as Sage suddenly grit his teeth and started slamming in nuts deep even hard, pushing the boi down onto the couch for the hardest anal ramming he'd had all week. With a snarl of pleasure, the sounds of wet slapping grew louder and faster, Neo's squeals more girly and needy as he was pinned face down on the couch in a rough, brutal, frantic prone boning that left him feeling trapped under the brutal stud rearranging his insides, his eyes crossing in pleasure while his tongue hung out of his mouth~!

Sage didn't care that he hadn't paid a single second of attention to that little pathetic clitty, he knew Neo got off to being treated like a girl, and that meant he never touched his own little dick, just like Sage liked his bois, completely addicted to cock and hands free orgasms. And he was currently railing the perfect boi, so hard he literally felt the couch under them break something, didn't know what, but the cushion definitely felt like it had more give as he bit the small bois neck and slam fucked him like a beast in heat, slamming as hard as he could while his nuts clenched against him, right up until Sage blew his load balls deep in the little fairy's fat fucking ass, not that it stopped him from fucking him.

And Neo only screamed in pleasure into the cushions, the boiling hot feeling of pure bliss filling his insides while the stud continued to ram his little prostate like he wanted it to hurt, and Neo was only losing his fucking mind to pleasure the whole time~! He could literally only lie there and take it like a good little butt slut, like a good little girl, and it felt so fucking good~!!

Every second felt like hours as Sage continued ramming his creamy, sloppy, cum filled boipussy until his very last spurt of creamy goodness~!

And when the man finally grunted and yanked his cock free, Neo shakily but quickly dropped off of the couch and onto his knees, swiftly taking Sage's massive, dark, cum covered cock between his lips, loudly slurping the cum off his bitchbreaker lovingly, jerking the base of his cock while slurping and sucking as hard as he could to get every last drop of his newest Daddy's nut~!

And while Neo choked on that cock, cleaning it off with just his tongue, Neo reached back and spread his ass for the next stud to cum fuck and abuse, cause the night literally just started, and Neo was far from done, if the sounds of a stud undoing his belt was any indication~

100 notes · View notes

chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Wipeout

Day 23, Post #1 by @adenei

Title: Wipeout

Author: adenei

Pairing: Dean & Seamus BrOTP

Prompt: Brother from another Mother

Rating: T

TW: implied injuries from silly game show stunts, language

************

“You sure about this, mate?” Seamus is looking at the gigantic, slick obstacle course laid out in front of them.

Cushy gears are spinning every which way in the distance, while platforms are sprayed with foam and soap, as if the challenge of getting to the other side isn’t already made harder by the random blocks that push out when you least expect it. There’s no way they will ever make it across without falling into the water… or is that the secret point to the competition?

Seamus thinks about how he can finagle getting through the course by using discrete traces of magic, but he knows it’s implausible without carrying his wand in his hand.

Dean laughs, and Seamus can’t tell if there’s a nervous tint in it or not. “Yeah, mate. It can’t be that bad, right?”

Just as he says it, though, their attention is pulled back to the course, where a competitor takes a leap to the next platform, and only half her body makes it. Her head hits the platform as her torso crashes into the side, and the embedded springs send her body flying backwards as she tumbles to the water like a lifeless puppet.

“Bloody buggering hell, is she even alive?” Seamus mutters to Dean with wide eyes.

“Yeah, I reckon she’s fine. People wouldn’t sign up for this if they were risking death. The prize isn’t that significant. Plus, it makes for a good laugh on the telly.”

“Excuse me, we just need you to sign these waivers before you take your turn on the course,” an attendant approaches them with a clipboard and pen. He points to the ‘x’ where they need to sign as Seamus glares at him, becoming more and more skeptical about the course they are about to encounter.

“Waivers?”

“Just protocol,” Dean scribbles his name and holds out the pen for Seamus. “It’s not like anyone’s actually died from this.”

It’s not that Seamus is cautious when it comes to dangerous activities. Hell, he has a knack for pyrotechnics and blowing things up. But he was drunk when Dean suggested they apply for the popular game show. He’s pretty sure they only got the call because they’d filled out the applications in their drunken state, which probably made them better candidates for TV personalities.

Seamus repeats the mantra of ‘you only live once’ as he grabs the pen from Dean and signs under his name.

Let’s do this.

The pair pay close attention as other teams work their way through the first course. No one has made it to the end without falling in the water at least once, and as he’s hyping himself up, Seamus is confident he can do this without getting wet.

“Okay, we’ve got this. I think it’s best if we just keep moving, that way, those stupid pieces can’t get us since it looks like there’s no rhyme or reason to when they punch out.”

“Those giant balls are going to be the toughest, I think,” Dean observes as Seamus sniggers.

“Finnigan and Thomas, you’re up!” a man holding up a megaphone calls.

They’ve already given their interviews, so now it’s time to ascend to the top of the platform, where Dean will go first and Seamus will follow.

“Remember, we just have to make the top twelve to move on,” Dean reminds him.

“Easier than a niffler stealing gold.”

Dean takes the starting platform first, as Seamus waits on the step for further direction. When the horn sounds, Dean disappears from sight as he slides down the human pinball course. Seamus watches on the big screen that’s filming Dean’s run, and it looks smooth until his friend’s side bashes into one of the poles. He recovers quickly and finishes his descent, scrambling to his feet to run up to the knockout platform.

A wall of red boxing gloves punch out at random times, and Dean starts out strong, dodging the gloves as if he were dodging bludgers during a quidditch match. One catches his foot as he leaps for the platform, and Seamus sucks in a sharp inhale, thinking Dean’s about to fall into the water. Dean manages to grasp onto the platform, saving himself from an imminent fall and consequential deduction.

Next up are the big red bouncy balls, and Seamus bites his knuckles in anticipation. If either of them is going to fuck up, it’s right here. Dean wastes no time getting a running start before he takes a gigantic leap. His right foot hits the center of the first ball, and he springs off it to the second. The run is flawless as his left foot vaults him off the second, but when his right foot lands on the third ball, he’s off-center, causing his balance to shift, and he slips.

Seamus grinds his teeth as he watches Dean’s body hit the ball and propels forward. Somehow, Dean manages to land on the fourth ball, and he’s grasping at the smooth surface.

“Use your feet, use your feet!” Seamus shouts to anyone who’s listening.

If Dean had only kicked his legs back, he could have caught himself and saved the run, but instead, his body bounces off the fourth ball, and Seamus watches as he tumbles to the water, causing a giant splash as he lands in starfish formation on his back.

That’s gonna hurt tomorrow.

They take the one-minute deduction that’s applied to any competitor who falls in the water, and Seamus gets ready for his run. As soon as the horn sounds, he’s unaware of what’s happening. One second he’s standing, and the next, he’s luging down a slick mat, giant red pillars blocking his path no matter how he twists his body. His only thought is to keep his legs together, so he doesn’t get nutted by any of the obstacles. He has no sense of time as he scrambles to his feet and ascends to the punching platform, tearing across the thin beam as fast as his feet will let him.

Three-quarters of the way through, he manages to pump the brakes before a high glove takes out his head, but that doesn’t stop another from hitting him square in the chest with two steps to the platform. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Seamus does the only thing he can think of, his flailing arms reach out and somehow grab onto another protruding glove as the force of his body swings around. His feet hit the platform, and he lets go, collapsing onto the mat.

Cheers are coming from the stands at his miraculous save, which spur him on. Even though he feels like he’s been run over by the Hogwarts Express, he stands and shakes his arms out, staring down the red balls that took Dean out minutes ago. He follows in his best friend’s footsteps, getting a running start. The obstacle is completed in a flash; the only thing Seamus remembers is the feeling of flying without a broom and hitting the massive balls less than a second apart. He can’t believe he made it!

Now, it’s just the rope swing. Seamus is sure he can hear Dean screaming his head off as he grabs the rope and gains momentum with another running start. His hands slide down and burn from the rope as he’s flying in the air, but Seamus holds on for dear life, only letting go once both feet have touched down. He slams his hand down on the red buzzer before throwing his arms up, whooping in victory.

Seamus bends over, hands on his knees as he catches his breath before he’s ushered down the steps and onto the lawn where a correspondent is waiting. He barely makes it off the stairs when Dean barrels into him, tackling him to the ground in a bear hug.

“Wow, what a bromance we have here, folks!” Seamus can hear the correspondent say to the crowd, which cheers again.

The excitement is short-lived, though, because less than an hour later, they find themselves having to choose who will play on the Sweeper Crusher.

“You crushed the first round. You should do it,” Dean insists.

“No, mate, I think it should be you. Your balance is better than mine. Plus, you're way better at spotting things out of the corner of your eye.”

“But—”

“You made the team in sixth year, not me. It’s gotta be you, mate.”

It’s true. Seamus knows his balance is shit, and Dean poses the better shot of the two, and ultimately he agrees. Before he ascends the platform, they hug, and Seamus pats him on the back.

“You’ve got this mate, go kick some arse!”

As Dean takes his position on the small circular platform, Seamus watches the event unfurl. Dean is methodical in his wait to jump onto the rotating beam, and he has to be because his position just so happens to be where the bars overlap with the beam, making it ten times as hard to be successful. Annoyance bubbles up in Seamus at the unfairness of his partner’s position, but there’s nothing they can do.

In the end, Dean takes a leap, but it’s not enough to save him as the crusher bar sweeps him right off the beam and into the water. Seamus is upset, of course, but they drunkenly signed up for the game show for fun, and deep down, he never expected to win. He wouldn’t switch the experience for anything else in the world and would absolutely do it again if given the chance.

Dean climbs out of the water, head hanging low as he approaches.

“I’m sorry, mate.”

“Don’t be! If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t even be here! And it was bloody brilliant!” Dean grins as Seamus holds out his hand. They clap hands and pull the other in for a bro hug and pat on the back.

As they are ushered toward the competitor’s tent, Seamus asks the all-important question. “I could get used to being on the muggle telly. So, what game show should we sign up for next?”

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #submission #dean & seamus #deamus brotp #tw: minor injuries #tw: bad language

18 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

💝My Obsession // Yandere! Leona Kingscholar x Reader// 💝

Someone, please explain to me how all my Leona fics end up being 2,500+ words?? Also props to whoever figures out which anime got inspired by to write the ending. Any way enjoy also thanks so much to @malleusthorns their game motivated me to write this.

Warning: Gore...I guess.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

There was a throbbing that wouldn't seem to go away, reverberating through the young girl's skull. Bouncing from wall to wall of her cranium just like a bouncy ball. The pain caused her to close her eyes tighter, trying to lull herself back into the numb comatose that had started to crack under the weight of alertness. Tiny fracture sprinkled around the darkness, noting to fully break her dormant mind. That was until something icy and wet splashed over her face, jolting her from her slumber.

(Y/n)'s eyes shot open, tears forming at the sides ready to slip out. She was becoming cognizant of the hammering in her head. A shiver ran up her spin before creeping over her skin, laying cutis anserina in its wake. As her sense began to awaken one by one, (y/n) started to feel a tug on her shoulder. The poor girl tried pulling her humerus forward, only for her skin to scrape against a smooth, freezing surface. Something was bounding her arms...and her legs she noted as she tried to kick her feet.

Nervously her bloodshot eyes scanned the room, it was dark and chilly. Something was causing every hair on her body to stand up on high alert, her guts where entwining amongst themselves screaming that something just wasn't right. Endless minutes flew by before a rollicking noise jarred silent darkness. A tapping soon followed, pittering across the floor. One second she could practically feel their presence less than a millimeter away from her. The next all she had was their even,never-changing noise where, she could only assume, was in front of her.

'Please talk' a timid voice croaked inside her head. 'Please say something' the nervous noise was poking at her tolerance. 'Just talk!' she couldn't tell if she'd actually screamed out the words or only hollered them inside her head. Either way, it did not matter, the footsteps only continued on their way, ignoring her presence altogether. The steps were getting further and further...the footfalls ceased and were instead replaced by a ripping noise that echoed through the emptiness.

In moments the obscurity was pierced by thin feeble rays of silver light. Despite the lights infirm nature it's brightness (y/n) still shut her eyes in an attempt to stop the stinging that had sparked from the back of her eyeballs. Endless minutes passed before a heavy sigh filled the air accompanied by the mirthless voice of the mysterious kidnapper. "Life's not fair is it?"

That question, that signature rhetorical question that had all but engraved its self in the depths of (y/n)'s memory. There was only one person, one person in the entirety of the world that could state such an overlooked fact as if it was the foundation that life was built on, one person...

"Leona..." Her whisper was as light as the air itself, the name of her beloved childhood friend mingled with the air before it was carried off into oblivion. Craning her head to the right, (Y/n)'s eyes caught the ever so familiar frame of the Savanclaw dorm leader. His green eyes glowed in the eerie rays. His posture wasn't as lax like it always was. There was an eagerness to him, an unsteadiness engulfing him. His spin was stark straight, his gloved fingers dug into his hips, scrunching the fabric of his shirt. "Surprised kitten?" his voice rumbled from his chest, echoing through the room. "You really shouldn't be, you've had this coming for some time."

(y/n)'s brows knitted together, whatever had been spilled on her earlier was starting to dry over her face. Sticking to her visage like a second skin. "L-Leona..." her voice was brittle, wither away like a dying rose. "W-what are...are you talking about?" dread was wrapping it's decaying thin arms around her, hover above the doomed darling watching the spectacle. "Wh..why am I here?" questions where bubbling inside the girl, floating out of her mouth and lingering in the stale air. It did little to phase Leona, he just kept starring and starring. Almost like a predator hunting its prey.

Slowly the lion boy stalked forward, his tail swished from side to side, almost like he was nervous about something...When he was close enough he leaned over. With one hand he tilted the metal chair backward. With the motion (y/n)'s head tipped backward. Their faces were close, far too close, (y/n) could feel every breath that Leona took. There was malice and sadness hidden behind his emerald orbs. His face was twisted into a snarl, sharp teeth on full display. "Why do you always have to be so dame clueless?"

(y/n)'s nerves were starting to snap. If this was a sick joke, then it had lost its humor the moment she woke up. "Stop it!" her voice creaked like old floorboards. Her vocal cords strained almost on the verge of bleeding as she tried to morphed her tone into an intimidating one. "This..this isn't funny Leona!!" The older boy rolled his eyes. He tipped the chain back to its initial position. Before waling behind her and undoing the restraints. Just as (y/n) came to move her arms, Leona forcefully pushed the chair into the ground. (Y/n)'s face slammed against the dirty floor, bouncing upwards from the sheer force before falling down numbly once more.

Leon watched as the young girl tried to get up, balancing herself on her hands and knees. as she stretched her neck to look up at him, he noted that blood was pooling under a few areas on her face and left eye. Creating supple red bruises. Though he would never say it out loud, she looked pretty like this, she had always looked her best when she was bleeding of hurt in some manner, it caused a sort of glow to orbit around her. But her beauty did little to make up for her insolence. There was a storm brewing inside him of him the anger, danger, and a newly awoken darkness where entwining birthing the personification of his obsession.

"By the king of beasts," he grumbled as his fingers shot up to his temple, as they always did when the iteration of the situation was planting another neuralgia in his head "I want you...no, you are mine, you have always been mine! You're just so stupidly dense that you never once realized it!"

(Y/n)'s eyes widen in disbelief, her heart was pounding against her rib cage practically breaking her ribs with each beat. Nervously she brought the back of her hand to her face, trying to distract herself. As she went to wipe the substance off her face. The substance cracked and peeled off the second her hand rubbed against it. As it fell it revealed a sticky layer underneath. Retracting her arm quickly (y/n) tried to see what it was that she had just touched...Another wave of shock rolled over her...

"B-blood?" Frantically her eyes ran up to Leona's begging for answers. The dark-skinned boy shrugged. "I didn't like your history project partner". (y/n) gulped, "How long?" her question silently floated between them, acting as a shield brightened by the dimly light. Leona only raised an eyebrow, he opened his mouth an inch but closed it once he heard the choked sobs and enraged shouts coming from his "lover". "How long?"... there was no reply. "How long have you felt this way!" It was a stupid question. (y/n) knew, if anything she had known for far too long, but she had been so happy in her hubris. So content with playing "sibling" with her childhood friend, she knew how he had felt for far too long. But everything had been so sweet, so pleasant, almost like a fairy tale. It was easier to look for a prince charming in other men and expect her "big brother" to be there and catch her once that prince inevitably broke her heart.

A sharp pain in her scalp caused the girl to look up. Leona was kneeling in front of her, pulling her hair up to look her directly in the eyes.

"Stop being so selfish and just fuking be mine already! it's not that fucking hard!" His yells held a desperate undertone, the big strong king of Savanclaw was reduced to this? A lovesick boy? Angrily (y/n) took in a deep unsteady breath before bellowing: "I'm the selfish one? You kidnapped me and tied me to a chair! You broke that beautiful illusion we had! To want to throw away our friendship for what? So we can break each other's hearts?!"

Leona remained dumbfound, his grip on her hair strengthened. "Actually I ordered Ruggie to kidnap you so that on him" he tried to keep a haughty prideful tone, but her words had left a growing bruise on his ego.

"Doesn't matter! if anything that just further proves my point! You are the selfish one! Just fess up, you're the one at fault here!"

Leona's body had begun vibrating with rage. Lifting his free hand he struck (y/n)! His claws snipped at her flesh, tearing apart skin tissue by skin tissue as if it was nothing more then silk fabric. Slashing at the muscles until there was a large enough opening for the blood to flow past. Trickling down her cheek the mood pushed away the rotten plasma caking her face, splattering on her clothes, leaving large messy circular like stains.

"No no! This! This whole fucked up mess we're in is all your fault! It's always been your fault!" Leona roared. His pupils had started to dilate, tears were forming in his eyes. Swiftly the older boy lifted his fist only to smash it onto (y/n)'s, again and again, and again...

Laughter, a sicking, and high pitch bordering on maniacal. Leona stopped his assault, his brows shot upwards, as his mouth twisted in a snarl, creases started forming on the bridge of his nose. How dare she laugh at him! How dare she mock him!

(Y/n) opened her eyes, they were harboring similar insanity as her kidnapper. Her mouth opened permitting her to cough up some blood that had pooled inside. "Why can't you just accept responsibility? You were always like this! Even when we were kids! Nothing was ever your fault because you were such a tragic little prince weren't you! If you really love me then own it! Don't blame me for your obsession! It wasn't my fault! I thought you...I thought you were happy with what we had!" Leona slowly pulled away. His green gaze never once leaving (y/n)'s damaged face. His fingers unlocked from her hair, which causes the young girl to immediately start rubbing the top of her head.

"I don't really care how you see this situation. My fault -which it isn't- Your fault -which it is- the point is...you're mine now and that's how it's going to be..." Leona's hand slithered over to (y/n)'s wrist, gripping it and pulling her into his arms. (y/n) buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his nostalgic scent, as he calmly petted her head as if she was a pet cat.

Time had frozen, granting the two so-called lovers a break of sorts. For the endless moment. It wasn't until Leona had gotten bored of their little hug, that the two moved. Leona's hands dug into her shoulder, he leaned his head down just as (y/n) tilted her head up. Lips brushing against each other prepping for a kiss.

The quietness was disrupted by a loud banging noise from behind them followed by an airy sound that got louder and louder. Until it struck right past Leona. Cutting the fabric of his jeans and slicing through his flesh. The lion let out a hiss, jumping to his feet and pulling (y/n) up with him. He pushed her to his chest as he maneuvered his body into an attacking pose.

"Let go of (y/n)! You horrible beast!" "Ecoute a lui, roi des lions" "Don't touch (y/n) Onee-chan!"

Those voices, (y/n)'s mind rushed back to the situation. She had seemingly forgotten just what Leona had done to her. The kidnapping, the humiliation, the beating...somehow it had all ran away from her memory the moment her beloved Leona had embraced her.

Behind the "couple" Rook shot arrow after arrow, aiming for the lion's limbs. One lucky arrow managed to strike Leona's left bicep. The lion boy let out a pained roar, his arm falling limp to his side as blood gushed downwards. "Rook, Ortho now!" Vil's voice boomed through the chamber. Rook nodded as Ortho replied with a "sure thing". The two raced forward, Rook switching his bow for a pocket knife and Ortho punching Leona with his metal fist. Leona tried to fight back but with his wound and the gang up he mostly ended up getting punched.

Sometime before the attack had fully commenced, Leona had shoved (y/n) to the side. Vil ran up to (y/n) grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit. Right before he left the "king" of Pomefiore snapped his fingers, causing both Ortho and Rook to leave a bruised and broken Leona. "How did you find me?" (Y/n) asked as she was directed through the maze of hallways and staircases. Vil turned his head to stare at her for a split second before running forward. The hallways were just as dark as the room she had been kept in, the numerous windows were covered by thick black curtains preventing the moon from sharing its light. However, thanks to Ortho's built-in flashlights the gang had a clear, illuminated view of a few feet in front of them. "Idia saw Ruggie knock you out and drag you to the catacombs" Vil explained, his grip on her wrist tightened. As the group ran to the Ignhyde dorm, (y/n) couldn't stop herself from peering over her shoulder. Expecting..no, hoping that her childhood friend would pounce out of the darkness at any moment and chase after them. It was a longing to see the boy she had known her whole life chase after her, the only difference was that this time if he did catch her, she would not object to his advances. But Leona never came...

and she was beginning to think he never would.

Days have a tendency to blend when together there is nothing left to look forward to. (y/n) couldn't remember how long it had been since that night in the NRC catacombs, how long it had been since that "confession"? Time had turned into a paradox, having simultaneously stooped and sped up. Idia and Ortho had taken the role of her caretaker. Bringing her food and checking up on her from time to time. Idia had even broken his shut-in nature just for her, every once in awhile he'd bring over some games to play. Ortho would pop in every day, trying his hardest to entertain the stoic girl. But no matter how hard either Shroud twin tried (y/n) would never smile, her face would never forme any real expression. She only ever spoke when necessary, conversations with her mostly consisted of nobs and grunts. Some days after school Vil or Rook would stop by the Ignihyde dorm with treats. Hoping to return (y/n) to her old, innocent self.

Deep down (y/n) was grateful for the efforts the boys put in. But it felt so meaningless go hollow. What was the point of it all? (y/n) could feel the threads of her sanity slowly ripping. Her days and nights -granted she'd lost track of which was when- where filled with constant pondering over guilty thoughts. Every single one of her waking moments was dedicated to envisioning that damned day, dreaming of just how it could have turned out. Why didn't she just kiss him? Why didn't she jump into his arms and scream that she was his? That she would always be his? That it didn't matter how they loved each other so long as the love was there.

Earlier that morning Vil had stopped by to tell (y/n) that Leona had come back from the semester break. It had seemed like a warning after all Vil was only trying to look out for her. The thought that Leona was back had sent her heart aflutter. She may have not shown it but her nerves where a wreck, she was both excited and nervous. A nagging voice in the back of her mind kept screaming that he wouldn't care about her that she had lost her chance the night she let herself be rescued by Vil, Rook, and Ortho. But a small piece of her still begged that Leona would come for her, that he still loved her.

Sleep was something that came in waves, sometimes she would sleep for days on end, and other times she would spend weeks in an insomniac daze. Tonight was one of the later nights. (y/n)'s eyes refused to close, her brain resisted the urge to think about anything other than Leona. She spent so many nights with his face in her head, mulling over every little detail. As the hours ticked by, (y/n)'s eyes started to grow heavier and heavier. The final scene the moment he said he loved her or at least tried to was still so vibrant in her semi asleep head. She could still hear his voice, his shouts and cries....his voice why was it so clear?--

"You know~ in another life, we could have gotten married, you could have been my queen and I, your king. We could have been happy like all those other happy idiots of the world."

(Y/n) bolted upright, her hands suffocating her blanket. Her window had been reduced to dirt. Leaning against the frame of where the windowpane had been was no other than the man that had plunged her thought for far too long. Standing on her bed and walking over to him, (y/n) couldn't help the larger than life smile that spread over her face or the tears of joy that just wouldn't seem to stop.

She came to a stop in front of him. Just like that night, the moon's rays of silver light cast a surreal glow over Leona's frame. He looked almost like an angel sent to free her from her suffering. "What..what makes you think we...we could ever be normal?" A tiny laugh escaped her mouth as she wiped the tears from her face. All Leona did was smirk, he extended his arm, his open palm beckoning her to take it. Eagerly (y/n) grabbed a hold of his arm, her grip was tight, too scared to let go always this all be some illusion fabricated by her tortured mind.

"Oi shut up already idiot...just stay quiet" He pulled her up, back into his arms, right where she belonged. His embrace was nothing short of bone-crushing. But (y/n) didn't mind, the pain proved just how real how was. With a final tug, Leona pulled her out of the window. As they began to fall to the ground, Leona smiled, a genuine smile that for once harbored no ill intent nor ulterior motive and said:

"You will always be my obsession (y/n) just as I have become yours..."

445 notes · View notes

rylen-ashworth · 3 years

Text

Prompt #1 - Foster

“Gettin’ there! Gettin’ there!” The dusty, fenced-in area out in front of Svaelfyr’s workshop was a lot noisier than usual. Ambient sounds of distant cicadas and desert breeze were interrupted by the occasional high pitched grunt and the pitter-patter of little feet racing across the grassy surface. It was a surprisingly pleasant space that rarely saw enough use to justify how well-maintained it was. When the orange bomb-shaped toy rolled to a stop at his feet, Rylen bent down to scoop it up again. Raising back up to his full height, the highlander spun the object on the tip of his finger before catching it again, making it look completely natural in his grasp. It was easy for the old brute to palm the ball in his massive grip, but a lot more of a challenge for the person he was playing catch with.

“Maybe try it like this...” He added, kicking off a demonstration. “Spread your fingers as far as you can, and just get your hand under it. Then when you move your arm, it should stick there until you get to the point of release.” He then performed the goalie’s throwing motion, turning his body and slinging the bouncy toy blitzball through the air. Attempts were made to hold back the force of the throw, but it still caught a lot more hang time than he had intended

Daedaena Daena, the lalafell girl who never backed down from a challenge, was his partner for this practice. Initially a client, she was the newest member of their crew and had quickly established herself as some one who was down to try just about anything. She kicked off into a sprint to catch the ball, which ended up sailing high over her head initially. “Watch it now! Keep your eye on it!” Rylen watched as the lalafel raced across the yard, extended both of her arms, and caught the spinning projectile with a squeaking “Oof!” “YEAH! Right in the breadbasket!” Boisterous clapping echoed off the side of the workshop when he congratulated the catch. “It stings when I catch it.” Dae’s displeasure was evident as she slowly uncoiled from around the ball, with her cheeks puffed up in a defiant pout. “You're alright.” Rylen answered with a grin, then made a beckoning gesture for her to throw it back. “Alright, now just like I showed you. Left foot forward, turn your shoulders, and sling your arm through as hard as you can.” Dae drew in a deep breath and proceeded to wind up for the biggest throw she could manage. She put all the strength she could muster into this one display of shining athletic prowess. The only issue was that she closed her eyes, and still couldn’t get a good grip on the ball. “NNNNNGH!” The lalafel grunted as she turned her body and released the ball as hard as she could. She threw it so enthusiastically that her body stumbled forward on the follow-through, and she ended up falling onto her hands and knees while she watched to see the results. Unfortunately, while the ball did have a surprising amount of velocity going for it, the lack of control meant its launch angle was too high, and way off target. Rylen could only watch as the ball careened across the yard and smashed its way through the shop’s front window. The two of them stood there for a moment, frozen in silence, staring at the cracked shards left behind in the otherwise empty window frame. The only other sound was that of the ball quietly bouncing on the hardwood floor within. “Alright, let’s go get some ice cream.”

#FFxivWrite2021 #ffxivwrite #rylen ashworth #daedaena daena

6 notes · View notes

blubberquark · 3 years

Text

Belated Protector Postmortem

I made the game Protector for the 46th Ludum Dare game jam. I did not make a tumblr post about it during the jam. Don’t think Protector is my best jam game, but what can you expect from a jam game? Hardly a glowing endorsement, I know. Download it from itch.io at this link, or don’t.

With some distance, I think it’s interesting to tell you why I don‘t think Protector is that good... or maybe “good” is not the right word. Some friends and other Ludum Dare entrants had encouraged me (privately) to keep working on it after the jam and fix the bugs. In my opinion, Protector is fine the way it is (for a jam game anyway), but any more work on it will be a waste of time. There will be no post-compo releases of Protector.

If you are just getting started making games, Protector could be a good example of when to stop working on a prototype. But first, let’s do the usual “game jam postmortem“ song and dance.

Game Description

In this moody puzzle-ish platformer, you control an invincible character tasked with guiding a small (and very vincible) dog through the level. You cannot control the dog.

Instead you can pick up and throw a bone, but you can’t carry the bone. When you press the bone throwing button a second time, the dog will chase after the bone.

One the dog is running, you cannot stop it. You also cannot call the dog to return to you. You have to clear the path for the dog before you let it loose.

What Went Right

Scope: I scoped Protector aggressively minimal. I remember feeling a bit under the weather on the first day of the jam, so I decided to take it easy and submit something small. I was okay with submitting a small game in the jam category. I just had this idea I wanted to try out.

There is only one level, and it’s not all that big. I submitted on the morning of the third day, with everything I wanted in the game, without losing any sleep, and with some time to spare.

Theme: The idea was my own take on that last level in Bastion, when the kid carries the battering ram, but as an escort mission. The main character was supposed to be some kind of brute or barbarian loosely inspired by the barbarian class in Diablo II. Obviously you keep a dog alive, because that’s the theme of the jam.

Character Designs: I think nailed it with the brute and dog sprites. The brute is big and faceless, and the dog is small and cute. The proportions of the brute convey that he is strong and slow, and his shield (but no sword) should clue you in about his purpose.

Simple Dog Behaviour: The dog runs and bounces around pretty quickly. Once the dog is running, all bets are off, because you are too slow to catch up. You have to set everything up so the dog won’t kill himself, because he’s not a cat with nine lives. He is a dumb dog.

Any kind of AI or pathfinding would have made the dog less predictable, and the main objective of the game is to keep it alive (that was the theme of the jam), so simple, fast, predictable movement was key. The player has to be able to predict the dog’s path before it starts running.

Level Design: The level is not that big. There is a variety of obstacles and set pieces, and these are all easy for the player character to navigate, but potentially lethal to the dog. In addition to multiple platforming challenges, there are two unique “set pieces” that break up the monotony.

There are five different ways for the dog to die, and the level is constructed to make the player experience each of them once. Some are obvious, like the lightning cloud and the tower that shoots arrows, but the level is designed so that every player dies at least once. After mastering an obstacle once, it should pose no challenge on repeat playthroughs.

What Went Wrong

Controls: The controls are very simple, based on only the four arrow keys, X and C. These can be mapped to the left stick and first two buttons of a gamepad. In walk mode, the two buttons jump and call the dog, and the “up” direction is used to raise the shield.

In throw mode, with the left/right axis controls the throwing angle, and the up/down angle controls the velocity. This control scheme feels too cumbersome. The X key is used for calling the dog and throwing the bone, based on context. This also feels cumbersome, but it makes it less likely for players to accidentally throw or call the dog when they want to jump. I still had to resort to putting the controls on the screen at all times.

For gamepad controls it would have made more sense to use the direction of the left stick for the throwing angle and velocity. For keyboard+mouse controls I could have implemented a mouse-based throwing system like in Gunpoint or a parabola indicator that shows where the bone will land. I could also have gone the other way with a Worms style throwing system in which the throwing velocity is proportional to the time the button was held. As is, the throwing uses the same buttons as platforming, but it doesn’t feel good.

Bone Physics: The bone physics was kind of bouncy and floaty. I implemented my own physics because the bone was the only object in the whole game that needs halfway realistic bouncy collisions. The player and the dog use platformer physics, so there was no need for a physics engine like Box2D, libODE, or pymunk. The bone is modelled like a simple spinning ball. I could have made the bone less bouncy to give the player more control, maybe even cheated by making it less bouncy only in the x-direction. I could also have gone in the other direction and modelled the bone as a rectangle or two balls connected by a line.

Dog Platforming: The dog sometimes gets stuck in a wall or on a ledge. This is bad. I could fix this by making the dog fall down or turn around when this happens, but that would make the problem worse. I’d rather have the dog (or the bone) stuck in a weird position until the player gets it out than having it sit inside a pit in an unwinnable position with believable physics.

The way bone physics and platforming work is very janky, but that is because the obvious fix would have unacceptable gameplay consequences.

Main Gameplay Loop: It goes like this: throw bone - move into position - let dog loose - wait for dog - retrieve bone - throw bone - move into position, and so on. There is no way to call the dog back because that would make certain puzzles too easy, no way to set multiple way points for the dog, no way to ask the dog to fetch the bone back to you, and no way to carry the bone - otherwise you could just walk over and drop the bone there.

The gameplay loop as it stands just doesn’t allow that many puzzles, and changes to the gameplay would make the current puzzles too easy. Adding more content is more or less incompatible with the current gameplay, and changes to the gameplay loop would break the existing balance.

Allowing the player to carry the bone, to use different tools than the shield, to call the dog back would destroy the game design.

What I Learned

Escort missions suck. I already knew that hidden complex systems are not fun, but even indirect interaction based on simple systems is hard to get right. Beyond that, I did not try anything new and outlandish. I just had the idea about the big protector and the little dog.

The most surprising thing was how poorly Protector was rated in the “Mood” category given the relatively high theme score. Having no sound really did me no favours, and neither did the GameBoy screen resolution or the 5-colour palette.

But importantly, despite all the gameplay shortcomings, this still works as a short game. If the game is short enough, it can be carried by novelty, and players will forgive janky controls, even if the controls are part of the game’s main difficulty. I relied on this insight in other jam games, but it does not translate to long-form games.

This is a bit meta, but it is important to understand when a game design does not work. To some degree I think game jams even encourage a kind of toxic positivity towards young people learning to program. By all means, you should encourage people who want to try their hand at game design, and you should not go out of your way to disparage teenagers learning to code or programmers who make programmer art because the graphic design in their enterprise software day job is done in a different department. All too often, instead of “keep it up“, we tell people who are getting started to keep working on their jam games. If a game has load of bugs, on some level it would be nice to have them fixed, and these bugs are an obvious starting point for a post-jam version of the game - but when I see buggy games with experimental gameplay ideas, I don’t always encourage the devs to keep tweaking the mechanics until it works. Some experiments have negative results, and that’s okay.

Some jam entries are great games, successful experiments if you will, but they can’t easily be made into longer games. That’s also okay.

Can We Fix This?

“But hypothetically” you ask me, “how would you turn Protector into a longer game if I hired you to be a game designer?”

Okay. Hypothetically. In this hypothetical world, you pay by the hour, no unpaid overtime, and no bonus based on how well the game sells ;-)

We need a story that glues all the levels together, and the dog platforming would be at most a third of the game. Maybe in some levels you and the dog fight side by side, maybe you explore some of the levels with the dog on a leash, maybe you tie the leash to a post at the level entrance and come back when you have cleared everything.

I can’t stress enough how important it is to have through-line that connects different types of gameplay, different set pieces and minigames.

In order to make the platforming and puzzle solving more interesting, you would have a different load-out in different levels. Some platforms are dog-only, and you would throw the bone (or a tennis ball) up there because you can’t reach it yourself. You would need a way to recall the bone (or tennis ball) or a way to recall the dog, maybe a dog whistle. Maybe you just have a limited supply of dog treats per level. Earlier levels just have the bone, and shield, later ones introduce mobility items for the player character, tennis balls, a collar, a leash, dog treats, a dog whistle, and so on.

It would be a fun idea (or a gimmick) to have most of the upgrades be for the dog, but that’s not very fun to actually play.

Another possible problem is if the dog handling becomes an afterthought, or a drag in the player, going back to fetch the dog after the level has been cleared. Escort missions are not held in high regard among players, so this could become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

With all these mobility items and larger levels, we would need an improved dog AI. We also could not have the dog fall into a pit of spikes, instead it should refuse to jump into unsafe distances, and somehow communicate to the player. We would also need a way to get the dog back down if it got up the wrong platform, and a way for the player to reset progress to the last check point or re-fill dog treats without creating an exploitable loophole where the player can just walk back and forth to the vending machine and win a level with infinite dog treats.

Oh no, the dog AI sounds complicated now. Complicated hidden systems are not fun, and training AI-powered animals is not that difficult code-wise, but it is difficult to pull off in a way that is fun and legible to the player. I still remember Black&White. Those animals were a gimmick. Somehow we need a way for the dog to communicate things to the player. Can the dog talk? Is there a bark code? Can the dog smell things?

One thing we absolutely must not do is vary the dog AI between levels. Players will have a really hard time as is, because the smarter the dog gets, the easier it becomes to accidentally mis-predict what it will do.

Think about all the parts of this rather comprehensive proposal: Complex AI, some kind of story, different controls, unlockable items, and level/puzzle design that integrates all of the above, all written from scratch or re-written for the bigger game. I’d rather spend the time on something else.

#game development #gamedev #aseprite #ludum dare #ldjam #postmortem #game jam #on the shortness of games

7 notes · View notes

trashyswitch · 4 years

Text

Chase’s Wake Up Call

Chase is feeling off. He’s too bored to think of anything to do, too sad to do anything, and too tired to attempt anything. All he wants to do, is sleep all day.

But Jackie, is not going to allow a gloomy Chase to walk around (more like sleep around) the house all day! Chase needs a wake up call! And Jackie knows just what to do!

Chase walked into the living room, slumped over with a blanket on his back. He walked up to the nearest couch, and collapsed onto it. Chase was in a weird funk. He was bored, tired and sad at the same time. He couldn’t think of anything to do, which made him sad. He considered going for a walk, but he was tired. He considered drinking some whiskey to get the sadness away, but the relief wouldn’t last. He needed a serious pick me up.

He was laying on his stomach with his face smooched into the cushions, and a blanket on his back. So, he didn’t realize that Jackie had flown above him, and noticed his funk. He flew himself down to Chase’s field of view.

“You don’t look good buddy.” Jackie commented.

“I’m not.” Chase mumbled in the cushions. Jackie went into a sitting position and floated down beside him.

“What’s making you blue?” Jackie asked.

“I don’t know.” Chase mumbled. Jackie lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, something’s gotta be bringing you down.” Jackie stated.

Chase mentally rolled his eyes and shifted his head.

“Why don’t you go for a walk? You tend to go for walks whenever you feel gloomy.” Jackie suggested.

“I’m tired.” Chase replied.

Jackie lifted both eyebrows in surprise. This is one serious funk... “Do you want me to get you some ice cream? We have some in the freezer.” Jackie suggested. Chase thought about it, but shrugged his shoulders. At this point, he didn’t care.

“Oh! What about some coffee?” Jackie suggested.

Chase lifted an eyebrow. A coffee? At 2 o’clock in the afternoon? Why bother? All Chase felt like doing right now, was sleeping the day away.

“I just wanna sleep.” Chase mumbled. Jackie’s face fell, but he shrugged it off.

“Okay. Whatever you say. Have a good sleep.” Jackie replied, before flying away.

A few hours later:

Jackie came to check up on his tired friend. He looked at the couch, to see a sleeping Chase, but with the blanket knocked off him. He must’ve been kicking or moving in his sleep, to lose his blanket like that. He seemed so comfortable. He must’ve been beyond exhausted to be sleeping this long. But, Jackie decided that enough was enough. It was time for him to wake up.

He flew over top of the sleeping body, and thought of how he was gonna wake him up. He thought of just shaking him awake, but that would’ve been boring. He wanted something fun! He thought about using a pillow. That seemed like the better choice. He grabbed a decorative pillow that was nearby, and readied the pillow behind his back. But, just as he was about to throw it at the man, a tiny feather (probably from the pillow) came floating down in front of him. Jackie paused his plan and watched the feather float to the ground. When the tiny feather touched the hardwood floor, a lightbulb went off above his head.

Placing the pillow back where it was, he quietly flew to the arts and crafts closet and opened the door. He looked around in the different bins and craft items, and came across a ziplock bag of multicoloured feathers from the dollar store. He grabbed a wide purple fluffy feather, and a narrow yellow stiff feather. Then, he put the bin back, and few over to the couch once again. He looked Chase up and down, to figure out where he wanted to try the feathers first. While looking down, he couldn’t help but notice that Chase’s feet were bare. That single sight had sparked some intense mischief inside of him.

So, he flew to the end of the couch, and put away the purple feather. He lowered his feather to the sole of his left foot, and waited for the touchdown. When he felt the tip touch the sole, he quickly fluttered it back and forth.

Chase pulled his foot away and paused his breathing for a second. Jackie pulled his feather back and covered his mouth to keep himself from laughing. After a couple seconds of suspenseful waiting, Chase relaxed his feet and started breathing again. Jackie slowly uncovered his mouth and reached his feather back onto his foot. Once it touched, he fluttered it back and forth again.

This time, Chase let out a squeak and pulled his feet back once again. Jackie looked up, and noticed Chase was trying to squeeze his eyes shut, and stop the little smile showing up on his lips. Growing more and more determined to wake him up, Jackie decided to go all out. He grabbed Chase’s foot, and fluttered the feather back and forth on his sole.

Chase let out a high pitched squeal. “Hehehehey! Whahahahahat are yohohohou dohohohohohoing?” Chase asked through his laughter.

“I’m waking you! Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead!” Jackie cooed, moving the feather to Chase’s inner arch.

“GAHahahahahahaha! Wait! Plehehehease! Hahahahaha!” Chase yelled, kicking his free foot as he curled into a ball.

“Please? Please what?” Jackie asked.

“Tihihihihickle mehehehehehehe!” Chase pleaded.

“Oooh! Please tickle me! Why, I’d LOVE to tickle you!” Jackie teased, dropping the feather and using his fingernails to tickle Chase’s feet more.

“Wait, WHAT?! THAT’S NOT WHAT-HAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Chase screeched.

“I’m sorry, what was that? That wasn’t what you meant?” Jackie asked. Chase shook his head hysterically.

“No? No as in ‘No, that’s not what I meant’? Or no as in ‘No! That’s wrong’? Please be more specific.” Jackie asked curiously.

“FORMER! THEHEHEHE FOHOHOHOHORMER!” Chase replied frantically.

Jackie gasped. “Oooooh! I think I get it! You didn’t mean this much tickles...” Jackie started. Chase would’ve let out a sigh of relief if he wasn’t laughing right now. “You meant EVEN MORE TICKLES!” Jackie proclaimed. Chase’s eyes practically bounced right out of his skull.

“JACKIE! I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT TOUCHING ME, YOU HAVE ANOTHER THING COMING!” Chase threatened.

Jackie lifted his eyebrows in pure surprise.

“Huh...And I was considering going easy on you...Welp, that’s thrown out the window now. Get ready for the climax!” Jackie declared, wiggling his fingers teasingly and flying upwards. Chase watched Jackie carefully, ready to strike when the moment hit. But suddenly, when Jackie dived his entire body down to attack, Chase yelped and curled into a cowardly ball. Chase’s eyes were shut, and his teeth were clenched. He was ready.

But...nothing happened. Realizing this, Chase opened one of the eyes, and saw a face full of Jackie with his hood. Jackie gave Chase a big smile, and dug his fingers into his stomach.

“EEEEEKK! AAAhahahahahahaha!” Chase laughed, turning onto his back and swinging his arms every which way. Jackie stopped his fingers for a second, and dug his fingers into Chase’s hips next.

“OH NOOOOOHOHOHOOHO! JAHAHAHAHAHACKIEEE!” Chase called through his intensified laughter. Suddenly, the tickling stopped, and some more tickling had started again: on his feet once more. Jackie had flown away, grabbed both feet and spidered them with tons of tickles.

“For the love of gahahahahahahad! Too much! Tohohohohoo muhuhuhuhuch!” Chase warned through his bouncy laughter.

Jackie kept on tickling a certain place on his body for a few seconds, before switching things up and trying a new spot. It was like Jackie was teleporting in and out from every angle he could, covering different areas of skin with tickles. With this new method of tickling, Chase’s laughter bounced from hard to soft, from cackles to giggles, from sudden squeals to unexpected snorts, and from normal pitched to high pitched. It was odd being able to hear all the sounds Chase’s voice could make. They were bits and pieces, but it was adorable!

“What’s this? A ticklish neck? How unusual? Perhaps I could put my glorious facial hair to good use?”

“Ooooh! I see some ticklish little ribsies! Let’s see: How many ribs are there in the human body? I could ask Henrik, but I’m afraid he’s busy! So, we’ll have to find out ourself!”

“Is this what I think it is? You’ve seen it here folks! Mr. Brody here, has ticklish armpits! It would be a shame if someone were to expose such secretive information.”

“Would you take a look at this belly button! So small! So deep!...and so ticklish! Aaaa coochy-coochy-coo! Aaaa coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coo!......Aaaaaaaa coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coo!”

And the teasing! Dear god the teasing! It was killing Chase!

Meanwhile, Jackie had took a mental note of the spot that made his favourite laugh: the titters, giggles and snorts. You’re probably wondering: what’s a titter? Well, it’s another word for a ‘short, half suppressed laugh’. That’s right people! Chase would let out suppressed laughs, snort in between, and burst into giggles! Who knew such an adorable laugh existed?! Certainly not Jackie. Jackie had come back to the feet for a bit, before trying out the back of his knee. This was the moment Jackie just about died from cuteness overload. It was like seeing a newborn puppy whimper for the first time!

For the final spot, Jackie wanted to try out the back of the knee and get that adorable laugh one more time. Using the yellow feather, he fluttered it back and forth on the back of his knee.

“Pffffff! *snort* Hehehehehehehe! Plehehehehehease! *Snort* I’m behehehegging yohohohou!” Chase pleaded, ground pounding the couch and shaking his head wildly. By now, Chase’s hair had gone messy, his hat was on the floor, and his shirt had remained risen up from Jackie’s tickle session on the belly button.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’ll stop.” Jackie heartened, slowing his feather, placing it onto the couch’s arm chair and flying away from him to give him space. Chase laid on the couch in the fetal position, letting out the leftover giggles that were trapped in his lungs. His hair was messy and standing up in a few places, and he had a wobbly smile that wouldn’t go away no matter what he did.

“You feeling better?” Jackie asked, floating closer.

Chase turned to Jackie and smiled wider. “Yes, thank you. Though, I lost my hat.” Chase said, looking around the couch.

Jackie looked down, and found the hat on the ground. He picked it up, dusted it off and reached it out for Chase.

“Thanks...” Chase said, grabbing both the hat and his arm along with it. Confused, Jackie was gonna say something. But he ended up being interrupted by his own yelp, as Chase pulled his arm towards him and locked him into his arms.

“Your turn!” Chase announced confidently, holding Jackie in his arms.

“What?! I did this to wake you up! I’m already awake!” Jackie argued.

“Good! That means you’re ready for this then!” Chase clarified, digging his fingers into Jackie’s bottom ribs.

“BAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! CHAHAHAHAHASE! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Jackie exploded,squirming back and forth like a mad man and throwing his head back against Chase’s shoulder.

“My my my! What ticklish ribs you have! It would be a shame if a bad guy were to find out this secretive information.” Chase teased, smirking at his evil words.

Jackie yelped at the threat. “NOHOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEASE DOHOHOHOHOHON’T! DON’T TEHEHEHELL THEHEHEHEM!” Jackie begged, squirming growing more and more frantic.

“Oh don’t you worry, damsel in distress: I’ll keep your secret.” Chase replied, winking before digging his fingers into Jackie’s hips.

Jackie let out an ear piercing squeal, and bursted out into high pitched giggles.

“Goodness gracious! You’ve got some deep hips! I’d better dig a little deeper! zzzZZZZZZZZ! ZZZZZZZZZ! ZZZ! ZZZ! ZZZ! zzzzZZZZZZzzzz!” Chase teased, making electric drilling noises as he dug both fingers deeper and out of Jackie’s hips.

“EEEEEEEEKK! COME OHOHOHOHON! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Jackie pleaded desperately as he squirmed wildly.

“I’m almost done drilling! I just need to make the circles a little bigger! Alright?” Chase explained, before digging deeper and drawing circles with his fingers.

Jackie threw his head back and gasped, before letting out an ear-piercing scream. “YAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! CHAHAHAHAHAHAHASE!” Jackie screamed.

“Whaaaat? Is it too much? I thought a strong superhero like you could handle this?” Chase teased with an evil smirk.

“I-I CAHAHAHAN! IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAHAN!” Jackie argued.

“Oh! You CAN handle it? That’s great! Cause there’s a one more spot I want to try before I stop.” Chase replied, removing his fingers before picking him up bridal style.

With Jackie safely secured in his arms, Chase lowered Jackie onto the couch and quickly grabbed his feet.

“W-Wait! Not...my feet...please...I’ll go...insane...” Jackie begged through his breaths. Chase ignored him at first, focusing on removing the red socks off his feet.

Chase glanced up at the man, and started to feel a bit bad. So, he decided to take pity on him. He looked around, and noticed the yellow feather from earlier, lying on the floor. He picked it up, and showed the superhero.

“Look what I found?” Chase asked, spinning the feather in a mesmerizing manner.

Jackie gulped, and felt his face darken into a darker shade of red.

“Any last words?” Chase asked, lowering the feather closer and closer to the left foot.

Jackie’s giggling got worse, the closer the feather came. Waiting for the touchdown was torture in and of itself, let alone the tickling that was gonna go with it. Jackie kept his mouth shut as he stared nervously at the feather.

“Well in that case, let’s get on with it!” Chase declared, fluttering the feather against Jackie’s soles.

Jackie let out an insane amount of titters and giggles. When Chase moved the feather to the inner arch, Jackie just about lost it! He threw his head back and let out long fits of cackles. Squirming wildly, he kicked his feet and practically eradicated the couch with his fists alone. Chase’s jaw dropped. Who knew a superhero could express such reckless behaviour?

“Wow! Who knew a superhero could hold such aggression?” Chase teased.

Jackie would’ve replied, but his laughter was stopping him! He couldn’t reply, he couldn’t push away, he couldn’t even tickle back! Chase was just out of reach! The only thing he could do, was laugh and laugh and laugh. And he...actually loved it! He loved being in this position!

“Okay. How about these tiny toesies? Are they ticklish, by any chance?” Chase asked in a baby voice as he examined his toes up close.

Jackie looked away from the man, his face a deep scarlet hue.

Instead of asking again, he answered his own question by fluttering the feather under his toes.

Jackie let out another squeal, and burst out into hysterical laughter. Jackie couldn’t take much more. But, he couldn’t tell him. So, he rolled towards the end of the couch, and allowed himself to fall off. In a single second, Chase’s smirk has slid off his face. He jumped over to help him.

“You okay? I’m sorry if I took it too far.” Chase apologized guiltily. Jackie waved his hands and let a weak smile grow onto his lips.

“It’s...okay...I just wanted you...to feel better...If that involves me...being tickled...as well...than I’ll allow it...” Jackie replied through shallow and quick breaths.

Chase’s body lightened up. “Okay. Good. Thank you.” Chase said, hugging his sweaty friend.

Jackie smirked and gave Chase’s ribs a little tickle. “No problem.” He replied.

“Hehehehey! Nohohoho mohohohore!” Chase laughed, leaning his forehead against Jackie’s shoulder and lightly squirming back and forth.

“Hmm...nah.” Jackie replied before digging his fingers into Chase’s armpits.

“BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Chase exploded, throwing his head back happily.

Jackie decided to take the upper hand on the tickle fight once more.

“Do I have your permission to give you a raspberry?” Jackie asked.

“Whahahahat?!” Chase replied through his laughter, confused and shocked at such a weird question.

“Can I give you a raspberry?” Jackie asked.

“We hahahahave no rahahahasbeheherries ihihin the house!” Chase exclaimed. Jackie rolled his eyes.

“No! Not that kind of raspberry, silly! This kind of raspberry!” Jackie clarified, before blowing a big raspberry onto Chase’s neck.

“AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HOHOHOHOHOLY SHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Chase screamed, completely unprepared for the strange sensation.

Jackie gave him a break, to let him properly talk. As the man took control of his giggles once more, his eyes widened at a sudden realization.

“I used to do that to my child all the time! I didn’t know it was called a raspberry!” Chase exclaimed.

“Really?!” Jackie replied, surprised that such a person could do something without being educated by it...actually, never mind. People do things without knowing about it all the time!

“Ya! Well, I guess an old man like me learns something new everyday...” Chase decided. Suddenly, Chase thought of something. “Wait a sec...how did you know what it was called?” Chase asked.

“Oh my god...I’ve known about that silly form of torture since I was a kid myself. My parents were ruthless ticklers.” Jackie explained.

Chase thought of an evil little thing to ask... “How would you feel about a blast to the past?” Chase asked.

Jackie lifted one eyebrow. “How so?” Jackie asked. Before Jackie could properly think, Chase had wrapped his arms around him, bent down, lifted his shirt, and was taking in a big puff of air.

“Oh GOD! NO, DON’T YOU-“ Jackie shouted, before feeling the rippling feeling of a raspberry against his belly button of all places. Jackie just about lost it. It had been so long since he felt the familiar tickly feeling! The last thing Jackie thought before going mad from laughter, was:

I hope no one walks in and sees this...

#ticklefic #switch!chase #switch!jackie #tired

11 notes · View notes

hannahstocks · 4 years

Text

We drove off the ferry and into the arms of warmth; sunshine and blue skies, revealing our bare white arms to the world for the first time in a while. The faint mutter of ‘I’m too hot’ ashamedly beginning to leave my lips as I change a very smelly nappy in the confines of our transit in a supermarket carpark. From Belfast we drove west, past both familiar sights and unknown territory, weaving our way into late afternoon, finding a camp-spot and watching the sun disappear, leaving behind a sky full of every shade of orange imaginable. One lone fisherman out on the rocks. We walked, we cooked and we started our evening rituals, the babe falling asleep to the rhythm of the audio book as we all fell into slumber.

The surf forecast gave us a few days to play with, to not be dictated by tides and swell, wind direction and conditions, we fell into the mercy of flat seas and found our spot on a little island, parked up next to the beach with our own natural swimming pool and kelp forest to swim through. A gully made the perfect swimming start line, protected from the wind by the cliffs.

We’d swim, we’d snorkel and attempt to fish, fruitless, but fun. Walk soggy sand at low tide and wonder about the potential should there be swell. It was two days of cold wind and sunshine mixed with cloudy stillness and pure glass. We watched people come and go. Walkers, climbers and sea swimmers. A nod to camaraderie as they passed by.

With time came a change in forecast and that much anticipated swell. We pushed on, left the gully and the cliffs and the little white sandy beach, a treasure to be told. The wind blew as we made our way south and the bad weather followed, it was October in Ireland and we’d caught the end of a heat wave, we couldn’t have asked for more.

The first waves of the trip were surfed, a little beach break. I was hungry, I didn’t need to have a closer inspection, I just needed to get wet and feel the board under my feet and quite honestly, since having Billie, each surf was a test to see if I could even do it anymore, if my muscle memory would hold me up, if my arms were strong enough to pop. It was tiny but I tucked myself in the corner and found a few little peelers. I watched from the sea, onto the shore and towards James, Billie and Dillon as they played in the sand, the water spilling over me as I sat on my board feeling the warmth in my belly for all that I have.

An old man sat in a plastic chair, set amongst the rocks just shy of the shoreline, reading. Four others sat on the rocks above, looking out and into the ocean, eating sandwiches, walking poles resting next to them.

By the time I got out of the water, Billie was as she should be, completely covered in sand. We got the trug bucket down from the roof box, filled it with warm water and suds and bathed her sandy skin, sand in all the rolling creases. We listened on as our fellow van dwellers were ‘talked at’ by an eager group of English hikers keen to be acknowledged for their time spent in Switzerland, where the couple were from. Dominating the conversation as the couple sweetly replied, politely answering where there was any room to. We’d parked the van so the sliding door opened on the other side, it had been a good idea. As we left, we looked on to say goodbye, the hikers had left but the couples doors were tightly closed. I didn’t blame them.

We rolled into a concrete beach carpark in the dying light and negotiated the sloped terrain with rock piles, levelling ourselves off as we looked towards our neighbours bright yellow chucks sitting perfectly underneath their tyres. I maintained that make shift was way better and came with definite satisfaction guaranteed, all this said as I sat with the babe in the warm, dry van as he scouted for rocks on the beach in the cold drizzle, head torch guiding the way. The morning was filled with promise so we ate dinner and got our heads down, sure to be woken by the little girl sleeping on the worktop next to us. The van was rocked by the wind that night and the carpark toilet door acted like our lullaby with it’s constant banging.

Past the homemade knits and the lady waving in the window, over the fence and across the farmers field, a stone wall guiding us down into a make shift fence and a pile of beach litter; rope, latex gloves, bits of plastic. The cove gifted perfect right handers peeling into a conveyor belt rip, pulling you back out into the line up. No one around. No other footprints on the beach. That you could be the first ones of the day to walk on that beach or any beach, is worth spending a little bit of time thinking about and feeling thankful for.

We tagged teamed. I watched on as he, ‘the magnet’, caught wave after wave, cruising and turning. I bobbed along the shoreline with my hot water bottle as she peered over the top and into the direction of her dad.

I wasn’t as lucky. It was tricky, hard to find the right position, the tide changed and directed the waves differently, I felt weak. I felt sad. I felt disappointed in myself. I got out and cried. I just needed a few minutes to pull myself together, to laugh and to remind myself why it is that I surf in the first place. It was a special place to have a moment like that, sat on the boulders, Dillon bounding towards me. I promised myself to be kinder.

Our pile of washing had mounted and was spilling out of our bags, we found a DIY laundrette at a garage, possibly the worst and most expensive in all the land. But it was getting done, no more washing our pants in the stream. We found where we’d call home for the next few nights and the best house mates you could ask for. Positioned a stones throw from the water and a lesser distance from a concrete mini ramp. Chickens and roaming dogs and flat seas (for now). Diving in, off the natural rock spring board, the water shocked our bodies into a state of alert, feeling alive for the rest of the day. And then it was a case of waiting, watching, waiting, watching, scrolling on phones until it was time to go.

I sat on the grass overlooking the waves, Dillon by my side and a little girl full of intrigue as she picked the daisies from the grass. The swell bounced off the cliff below and formed together into wedges, waves filling the bay. Sat on the perfect viewing platform, I watched on, mind surfing and just appreciating where we were.

The swell over the next few days delivered waves for all. Reefs and river mouths delivering watery treats. The thing with tag team surfs is the high possibility of surfing completely by yourself. Daunting at new spots but with the added feeling of accomplishment and adventure, add onto that the high possibility of looking like a complete kook; sitting too deep, too wide, having to gauge position against monuments on the land and really, just a case of trial and error.

Like the swell, emotions come in waves; frustration, excitement, disappointment, satisfaction; post Billie I was becoming friends with all of them with even more intensity. A deeper satisfaction from just being in the water or just watching from the land juxtaposed with a deeper frustration of starting all over again.

His favourite wave started to turn on and the excitement in his step was like that of a bouncy puppy. The late afternoon light was magic as it bounced off buildings and with the drop in wind, the energy in the stillness was electrifying. Dolphins in the line up gifted the cherry on the top, jumping out of the water, frolicking in the waves, sat shoulder to shoulder with those lucky enough to be emerged in the water, and it would be a rare sighting we’d find out later. I looked on from the shore, babe missing the excitement through her slumber. The evening felt charged like we’d been gifted something pretty special.

Bad weather changed the course of our trip, we decided to head back up North, to cover ground we had missed through the eagerness to get south. Driving into the dark, burrito in hand we bee lined to a familiar spot and pulled off the road. Stars lined the nights sky, pitch black otherwise, no street lights, just the head lights from the odd car driving past. Being back in the area reminded me of a trip that came before, three girls sardined in the back of a van, hunting for waves and laughing for three days straight.

As we descended down towards the ocean, the Irish sun shone with as much force as early October can, stone walls cascaded down over hills and into gardens, dividing houses and farm land. The narrow road delivered us onto a bouldery beach, grass crawling towards the sea. Sheep grazing. A wheel barrow, shovel and plastic bags resting against a mound of earth. Peat rich soil territory.

The offshore breeze blew light, spraying gently off the back of each wave. Our gamble paid off. The swell pulsed and danced with the tide for a couple of hours. Harmonising and producing long walls of water, It was beautiful to watch.

The dogs descended on us, coming from nowhere, a pack of intrepid little fur balls, excited and boisterousness and taking quite the liking to Dillon. A courageous little puppy jumping in and out of the van, all to the disbelief of Dillon, gazing at me with a look of ‘what the hell is another dog doing in my bed?’ They humped it out.

He glided in from the sea, lost in a time warp of waves, salty and tired.

We’d spend the next couple of nights sheltering from a bad weather front and in the warmth and comfort of an air bnb, bathing in a free standing tub, cooking pies in the oven.

I’d talked quite passionately leading up to the trip about the best pizza I’d ever had last time in Ireland. We were back in the town and sat in the same restaurant. I could taste the sourdough base and tomato sauce already. Belly rumbling. It was reminiscent of the last time. Pure joy in every bite. I felt relief that it had lived up to expectation for the both of us. Billie had her first experience of Guinness, mainly just holding the glass and gumming the rim, but to my aunties delight through text messages later, a keen Guinness drinking since the ripe age of five.

The road took us deeper into isolation and beauty, with an undertone of mystery as we reached the port, ruins of a past village scattered in the hills, a jetty stretching out into the water and sea stacks; stacks of rocks disconnected from the land rising up towards the sky. A bay full of beautiful boulders in all different shapes and sizes, all tones of white through to grey, a monochrome carpet with the shoreline laden with a rich, thick kelp. White caps out to sea forming like icing on a Christmas cake, whilst the inner bay lay calm, our own private swimming pool. It would be our final camp spot of the trip and it appeared we’d saved the best till last.

The journey from the main road down to the port was long and with only one final destination, combining time of year and it being mid week meant that people were few and far between. Those that made the journey came and went, paying respect to the landscape and intrigue to the fallen village; still, when the sun started to sink, the port became all ours once again.

We stayed two nights, climbing what seemed like unreachable summits with roaring winds streaking our faces with tears, swimming in water as still as glass, biting in temperature and breathing in the beauty of our surroundings; a bay fringed with high cliffs and swirling birds and a wide ocean as far as the eye could see provoking contemplation and reflection.

It was our first van trip with our babe in tow; a beautiful mixture of fun and difficulty, joy and hysteria; a completely different experience than ever before with new life and new demands and personally, I couldn’t wait for the next one.

Thank you Billie. x

0 notes

friendshipcampaign · 5 years

Text

Session Recap 3/23/19: Dungeons and Dragons

(No, Really)

As the party started to head down the hall, Aphator finally emerged from behind the corner, revealing her towering devilish form. She picked up a shattered piece of chain and flicked it at them, technically fulfilling her orders to attempt to flay them all alive. Voski blew some dust from one of the chains back at the devil. Aphator warned them to watch out for the “new girl” in the next area, saying she wasn’t really a team player.

Once they were out of earshot of Aphator, Amaranth turned to Voski and Erwyn and said, “You can help her if you want, but just don’t forget what she is.”

The corridors continued to wind, and the party followed them, until they came across a pit the entire width of the path full of spikes and bubbling black goop. Voski sent some Dancing Lights down the corridor to investigate what was beyond it, revealing a turn about 20 feet forward. Ditto tried conjuring a ball and throwing it into the pit. It bounced for a bit where it looked like it should have fallen, and then appeared to vanish into the floor. Voski suggested that Ditto try rolling the next one, and this ball made it across the entire length of the pit before falling into the floor.

Amaranth tentatively put a foot down and felt solid floor where there appeared to be none. While the visible pit was an illusion, there seemed to be a very real one disguised as stone just beyond it. Ditto walked out to the edge of the false pit and prodded the width of the actual one with a stick she’d conjured, to see if it spanned the whole corridor. It appeared to. She flew across with her magic shoes to mark where it ended down the hall. As the group discussed how to get everyone else across--making Kriv pause, as he had already been gearing up to try to make the jump himself--Erwyn looked contemplatively at the giant frog, and cast Speak With Animals. Suddenly, before he could speak to it, he felt his teeth elongate and sharpen and his fingernails lengthen into claws as he accidentally set off another wild magic surge.

Startled, he had a bit of a hard time asking the frog if it would carry the group across the pit. The frog asked what was in it for itself, and asked if it could eat Ditto.

“Hey Erwyn,” Ditto called from across the pit, “If you’re talking to the frog, can you tell it not to eat me?”

Amaranth told Erwyn that his pointy teeth looked pretty badass, but he nervously told her that he wasn’t really a fan himself, his words muddled by trying to speak with a mouth full of sharp teeth.

“I would offer some enunciation pointers, but I don’t think they’d be all that applicable to frog,” Voski said.

Erwyn explained to the frog that they were in a dangerous place and that they could offer protection to the frog if it helped them get through. When it agreed, Erwyn asked who wanted to ride the frog and Amaranth gleefully shouted she wanted to. She asked if Erwyn would join her and he said he was worried about hurting the frog with his claws, but she insisted she’d pull him up and he could hang onto her instead. When he hesitated, Voski reminded him that he was talking to the sharpest person in the party, and he carefully got up on the frog and tried to gently wrap his arms around Amaranth. In one bound, the frog cleared both the illusory and the real pit. Voski and Kriv each made the leap themselves.

Ditto continued rolling bouncy balls in front of the group as they kept walking, and discovered another drop-off right at the turn of the next corridor. She safely flew across it, and Erwyn and Amaranth got over on the frog. Due to the positioning of this one, Erwyn asked if the frog would also help the dragonborn, who couldn’t make a running leap this time, and it obliged.

They moved onward and Ditto continued her trap-sensing method by conjuring more bouncy balls and tossing them ahead. After not too long, one of them went through the wall -- eliciting a growl. With combat looking imminent, the group began to prepare themselves. Erwyn frantically asked Voski if she could try casting Dispel Magic so he could use his hands properly, saying he was useless without being able to fire his bow. She asked him if he really wanted to fire arrows in the narrow corridors to begin with. Noting the sound of the growl, the frog hopped behind the party to take them up on their offer of protection.

A wave of darkness suddenly spilled out of the hidden chamber ahead and covered the party, before Voski Dispelled it. An all-black Abishai, a dragon-like devil, stood in front of the party, looking briefly taken aback that the darkness had been dispelled. She spread a pair of giant black wings and loomed threateningly. “You must be the new girl,” Voski said, as Erwyn and Ditto simultaneously loosed attacks in the devil’s direction.

Erwyn’s Ray of Frost had minimal effect on the abishai, and she shrugged Ditto’s Fireball off completely. Kriv rushed forward and smashed into her with his hammer twice, using a Divine Smite. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the holy energy gathering around his weapon, and she hissed at him.

Still unable to use his bow, Erwyn looked back pleadingly at Voski and called her name before casting another Ray of Frost. Ditto hit the abishai with Magic Missile, which was more effective than her last spell. The abishai swayed from the damage, getting on all fours to keep her balance. Despite the other hits, however, she wouldn’t take her eyes off of Kriv.

“Has Bahamut stooped to unkempt youth now?” she hissed, and set on Kriv with her two nasty-looking scimitars, hitting him once before biting into his shoulder, doing damage with her sharp teeth and the acid in her mouth.

Amaranth flanked the devil and, after missing her first attack, stabbed her, causing the abishai to dissolve into goop.

With the fight over, Voski turned to Erwyn and said that, while it had seemed uncouth to mention it in front of the abishai, she was all tapped out of magic at this time. She handed him a file and, when he looked confused, advised that he drag it in one direction instead of sawing back and forth for clean nail edges. A badly injured Kriv high-fived Amaranth and asked Ditto if she could fix his shirt, which she cast Mending on. He used Lay on Hands to heal himself, then scooped up some of the acidic goop from the devil in a vial.

The group investigated the alcove the abishai had emerged from and found a desk where she must have been waiting. Kriv left her a little drawing of himself, sticking his tongue out. Ditto also found an assassin pulp romance novel written in Infernal that she gave to Amaranth, who was very excited about it. Voski lit a perfumed candle to freshen the place up a bit before the devil returned.

As the party continued, they jumped over one more pit with the help of the frog, then came to the end of the corridor before a red hot iron door with a lock. Amaranth tried get it open, melting her lockpick in the progress. Ditto ultimately managed to get it open using Mage Hand, revealing a wooden door behind it, with a sign that read: “Do not open,” written in many different languages. Having experienced enough devilish rules today, the group elected not to open the door. They tried sliding a paper with a message under it to anyone on the other side, then calling out, but got no response. They considered whether it might lead back to the first room they’d started in, and how they should proceed or backtrack from here.

Ditto eventually just Misty Stepped under the crack in the door and found herself in a room containing both the key they needed and the portal out. Both were in the middle of a magic circle reading “Do not cross this line,” again in a number of languages. Also standing in the middle of this circle was a large bearded devil, who was watching her. After a moment of being very panicked, she realized the devil wasn’t attacking and opened the door for the others to get through (as there was no sign forbidding her from doing so on this side).

Once inside, the group spent some time talking about their options, periodically checking to see if the devil visibly reacted to any of their plans. (It didn’t.) They eventually decided to try to break the line using their magic soap, as that technically wouldn’t violate the command written beside it. Unfortunately, the soap ended up dissolving before it could make much of a dent. Voski blotted at the line with some makeup remover, but this was less effective.

When Ditto tried throwing a ball through the circle, she found herself freezing up, unable to even move towards it with the knowledge that the circle forbade her from doing so. She seemed excited by the novelty of feeling compelled to follow a pointless rule, but it posed an obvious problem.

Voski tried reaching over the small part of the circle they’d managed to erase, and the effect that stopped her movement seemed less powerful. Ditto tried casting an illusion of the floor with no line over it, and succeeded in hopping over, with Kriv following. It seemed that the magic circle’s powers, however potent to devils, could still be thwarted by a creature with free will and a sufficient talent for denial. Amaranth tried to cross as well and froze up, but Kriv pulled her over. Voski pointed out to Erwyn he might be small enough to fit through the part they’d erased. He got slightly stuck trying, but shrugged it off and got over.

The frog, unbeholden to any law, followed without issue, and Voski similarly flounced over the line.

With everyone successfully over, the group was able to grab the key, with the symbol of Arborea on it, and make their way towards the portal. They all passed through it, the room with the devil fading before them and giving way to a beautiful forest.

#session recap

1 note · View note

ninja-librarian · 5 years

Text

Commission for @craftingandcats, featuring frenemies Taka and Sayuri!

Taka really, really didn’t get what was so special about this stupid hairless kitten Zakuro and Ryou brought home. All he knew was that they were obsessed over her, and bowing to her every whim.

Zakuro and Ryou didn’t bow to Taka’s every whim. Case in point, he hadn’t had his beloved tuna in months. Months! That was several human lifetimes in kitty years!

The hairless kitten could cry at all hours of the night and immediately get attention. Picked up, sang to, cuddled, fed.

When Taka was vocal in the middle of the night, he got shoes and pillows tossed at him, told to shut up, and often tossed out of the bedroom entirely.

Aside from being an attention hog, the hairless kitten didn’t do anything. In fact, the hairless kitten was a horrible excuse for a cat. Why have this stupid kitten who spent most of the time staring at nothing and chewing on her own paws when there was smart, handsome, bug-killing Taka around?

He was determined to usurp this tiny tyrant. And he knew just how to do it: prove that the hairless kitten is more trouble than she’s worth, that obviously Taka is a much better cat. So much better, in fact, that why get another cat when Taka in all of his perfection exists?

His plan was going well, Ryou for once doing exactly what Taka wanted. He entered the room and scowled when he saw the huge hairball beside where the hairless kitten lounged in a bouncy-seat, her tiny paws smacking the toys that dangled above her. Taka weaved around the kitten, tail flicking, eyes conveying a message for Ryou: this was all the hairless kitten…

But Taka’s plan failed the moment Ryou opened his mouth, calling, “Zakuro! Your cat just threw up near the baby!”

“Get her away from it!” Zakuro called back, fluttering into the room. She scooped up Taka…

And tossed him in the bathroom, locking him in.

Taka sat on the cold tile floor. Then he realized the fatal flaw in his plan.

The hairless kitten was, well, hairless. There was no way that she could have spat up that kind of hairball.

It was back to the drawing board.

*****

Clearly, this hairless kitten was crafty and devious. It took Taka a great deal of time to come up with another plan to get rid of her.

Well, actually, he ended up taking a nap and completely forgot about planning the hairless kitten’s demise. But what else was he supposed to do with a basket of laundry straight out of the dryer? Let it sit there and go cold? Remain cat-hair free? He wasn’t a monster. Unlike the hairless kitten…

It was months before Taka even began to consider getting rid of the hairless kitten again. But he was cruelly reminded about how much he loathed her that fateful day.

He knew that the hairless kitten was finally learning how to make use of her four paws, walking around like a proper cat. She still wasn’t good at it or fast, so he wasn’t too bothered. He just stayed out of reach.

Or where he thought he was out of reach.

Taka was napping comfortably on the couch when he felt something suddenly grab and tug on his tail. He cracked open an eye and…

MEROW!

Taka leapt up and dashed out of the room, the hairless kitten laughing behind him. From the top of the bookshelf, Taka hissed. Who taught the kitten to stand on her hind legs? And why hadn’t they taught her that tails were off-limits?

And did Zakuro come running to check on him? No. She scooped up the hairless kitten and glanced up at him.

“Taka,” She said. “Be nice to Sayuri. She only wanted to say hi.”

Taka turned his back on her at that, aggressively grooming his poor abused tail.

Oh, that little hairless kitten would pay…

*****

The hairless kitten learned how to walk. And walk fast. And walk fast in a quiet, cat-like manner.

Taka was innocently napping on the floor beside Sayuri when all of a sudden there was a loud clatter and he opened his eyes and dry cereal was in his fur and surrounding him, the bowl on its side. He leapt to his feet, looking around for Sayuri…

Who was now on the other side of the room, chewing on her fingers and picking up a toy right as Zakuro came in.

“Taka!” She exclaimed. “What a mess you’ve made!”

Taka couldn’t believe it. He was being blamed for this?

Sayuri only blinked innocently.

Oh, she would pay. Oh, yes, she would pay dearly…

*****

Perhaps, Taka thought as he swiped another discarded piece of cut-up chicken stick off the high chair, the hairless kitten isn’t all bad…

The hairless kitten was finally old enough for solid foods. Had been for a while. But this time, she’d actually been given real food, not that mushed up gross vegetable stuff.

So while Zakuro and Ryou were fawning over the little kitten, bathing her and changing her out of her clothes, Taka took advantage. He started eating the leftovers.

As the hairless kitten sat on the floor, sipping juice from a cup, Taka came over and curled up beside her, purring, content with a full belly. He was rewarded with an over-eager, not-so-gentle pat on the rump.

Well. She’d learn.

From then on, if the hairless kitten cried, Taka was there at her side in an instant, purring and chirping, usually making her giggle. And the hairless kitten returned the favor, throwing food on the floor for Taka to eat.

He thought they had an understanding. He was wrong.

They only had a truce

He learned this when the hairless kitten was about three years old. Her aunt Lettuce had left a ball of yarn at the apartment while babysitting, and the kitten had found it. Left alone while her parents fixed dinner, she unwound the yarn, throwing it and tangling it everywhere.

Taka slept through it all, having recently finished his own dinner and in a food coma. Besides, he was a grown, majestic cat. Too old for childish games of playing with yarn.

But he opened his eyes when he heard a gasp and a stern, “Taka! How could you make such a mess?”

To his shock, the red yarn was everywhere. And the small bundle that remained from the once big ball?

Tucked under Taka’s paw.

And where was the hairless kitten?

Sitting in front of the television, right where her parents left her.

Oh yes, the little kitten would pay.

*****

Sayuri Fujiwara-Shirogane was five years old when she realized that Taka was her frenemy.

Sure, she’d share her popsicles with him, and he’d come patrol the edge of the bathtub despite her splashes to ensure she didn’t drown. He’d come visit her when she was in time-out (which was frequent). They watched movies together, and he only growled sometimes when she dressed him up for tea parties. They would sneak into the freezer and eat ice cream straight out of the carton in the middle of the night after Sayuri had been told ‘no dessert’ for whatever misdeed she had done that day.

But she learned the hard way that Taka was both her partner-in-crime and worst enemy

Okay, technically she wasn’t supposed to be playing with the ball in the house. She knew that. Had been told that ten minutes before the incident. But she’d be careful, she wouldn’t break anything. Prove that she was a big girl and responsible.

She’d been bouncing the ball when all of a sudden she heard a thump behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Taka on the mantle, knocking off picture frames onto the floor. Sayuri stared at him curiously.

Taka stared back.

Then, still making eye contact, he knocked the remaining picture frames off the mantle before she could blink.

Sayuri stood frozen, confused, as her father entered the room.

“Sayuri!” Ryou said, scowling. “I just told you not to play with the ball in the house, and now look what happened!”

“But—” Sayuri said, trying to hide the ball behind her back. “It was Taka!”

The cat in question, to Sayuri’s disbelief, was sitting on the couch, curled up and seemingly sound asleep.

Ryou frowned at her, clearly not buying it. “Room, young lady.”

“But—”

“Now.”

Sayuri stomped off, throwing a glare over her shoulder.

Was it her imagination, or did Taka look incredibly smug?

Did the cat deliberately get her in trouble?

The cat would pay…

*****

Unfortunately for Taka, once Sayuri knew that there was a war going on between them, he was on the losing side.

When Taka began the war, he had no way of knowing that the hairless kitten was insanely smart, like her father.

Or that she was more evil than she let on. Especially when she was being purposefully evil.

He learned this the hard way when Zakuro and Ryou got upset at Taka for a pair of ruined curtains, with four large rents in each curtain like claws. But Taka was too dignified for that, and when he saw the carnage he now knew what Sayuri had been up to with a pair of nail scissors.

Taka didn’t even get a chance to plead his case when he was swooped up and wrapped into a blanket—a “purrito” as the humans referred to this humiliation as—and Zakuro held the dreaded claw clippers in her hand.

Taka howled and yowled, thrashing in the tight purrito hold, but it was fruitless.

His claws were trimmed, and there was no human bloodshed. Not even when he finally escaped and took a swipe at Sayuri’s bare leg where she sat on the floor, drinking from a juice box.

She only smirked at him as he growled. She pet him on the head. “Your claws needed to be trimmed anyways, Taka. I know, it was on Mom’s to-do list.”

Taka retreated to his basket, hiding from the humans, plotting his revenge and re-strategizing.

But, oh, that kid was smart.

Broken Christmas ornament? Sayuri said that Taka had been playing underneath the tree.

A small chunk gone from the cake cooling on the counter? Taka ate it.

A sopping wet sponge somehow ended up on Zakuro and Ryou’s bed? Taka must have done it.

An entire roll of toilet paper shredded all over the bathroom, living room, kitchen, and Zakuro and Ryou’s bedroom? Taka definitely did it.

Okay, yes, he did actually do that last one, but no one bought his “World’s Most Perfect Kitty” act and “I don’t know what happened, it just exploded, I’m just as surprised as you are” face for some reason.

Taka could grudgingly admit it. His opponent was much more powerful than he had initially believed her to be.

He was plotting his vengeance when Sayuri came home from school, stomping and yelling at her parents to leave her alone, she didn’t want to speak to them, and their response being sending her to her room. She went, but, to Taka’s surprise, she didn’t slam her door.

Taka’s ears twitched at hearing Sayuri crying from inside her room, from hearing Zakuro and Ryou whisper “—being challenged enough—” and “—not an excuse—” and “—shouldn’t pull her out just because of—”.

Taka crept into Sayuri’s room, hopping up onto her bed, where she was crying, her face buried in her pillow.

Sayuri lifted her head, scowling. “Go away, you stupid cat!”

Taka was offended. And stubborn. He sat down on her bed, digging his claws into the comforter, daring her to do anything about it.

To his surprise, she didn’t.

Instead, she rubbed her eyes and started talking. “It’s not fair, Taka. School is so boring, Sensei is mean and stupid, and I hate everyone. Especially Mei, because she says people only play with me ‘cause Mom’s famous or something. I already know everything that happens in class, so I’m bored because I get things done faster and Sensei yells at me and this time I really got in trouble with everyone but it’s. Not. Fair! She’s the one who asked if I was bored, and I told her I was because the lesson was dumb! I just told her what everyone else was thinking!”

Sayuri’s sobs started again, pressing her hands to her face, shoulder wracking.

Taka heaved a sigh, mentally calling a truce to their war. This was still his stupid little hairless kitten. She needed him.

And, despite his misgivings and against his better judgement, he loved her.

He went over and crawled into her lap, purring as he settled in. To his relief, the tears turned into sniffles and a small hand—he tried hard not to cringe as it was slightly sticky and snot-covered—pet his head.

“I’m sorry I said you were stupid, Taka,” Sayuri whispered. “You’re the best kitty ever. I’m glad you’re my kitty.”

I’m glad you’re my kitty, too. He thought.

Together, they took a nap, sleeping peacefully as her tears dried and the only sound being Sayuri’s breathing and Taka’s purrs.

Together, they’d take on the world.

After a snack, of course.

#Tokyo Mew Mew #Commission #Fic Commission #Zakuro/Ryou #OCs

10 notes · View notes

musicprincess655 · 6 years

Link

“Today, we’ll be moving on from our discussion of using your surroundings to boost the power of your spells to putting it into practice,” Kataoka said. Jun tried not to groan. He understood the theory perfectly, had worked through it in his spare time, and knew it inside and out.

That didn’t mean he could actually do it, though.

It was halfway through the second semester, well into autumn, and Jun was no closer to finding a solution to his problem than he’d been at the beginning of the year. It was hard to even still feel the same sense of urgency anymore. The problem was starting to become an old one.

One he would never solve, that voice in the back of his head whispered.

Maybe he really should take Takashima up on her offer to join her research group. It couldn’t be worse than this, right? And he could apply for a stipend as a researcher, so it would mean extra money for him. Which was a positive.

But he’d been trying to find a way to use magic, to really fit into the magical world he lived in, since he was young. Could he really quit that now, when he’d come so far? Was that really okay?

“Isashiki.” Jun jumped out of his musing at the sight of Kataoka standing in front of him. “You understand participation is fifty percent of the grade in my class, right?”

“Uh, yes,” Jun said, jumping to his feet. “Um, I can’t…”

“I really can’t give you credit for participation if you can’t complete the activity,” Kataoka told him bluntly. “I understand your situation, but it’s not fair to all the other students if you get credit when you haven’t done the same work as them.”

“I understand, sir.” Kataoka considered him.

“Whatever it is you need to figure out, figure it out,” Kataoka told him. “I’d rather have you on the team than not, and I don’t want you cut because of your grades.”

Jun bit his lip. Objectively, he knew all his professors had been more than fair to him when it came to actually doing magic. He was only really doing well in classes where he didn’t have to use magic, but he also wasn’t failing yet, and he wasn’t dumb enough to think it was because of his own skills.

***

“I promise, it’s just school stuff. But I will get offended if you don’t start taking this seriously.” Jun bowled another ball down the ramp, pumping his fist as it went into the 10,000 slot. He really had that one dialed in now. “It’s no fun beating someone that’s not trying.”

“Can I help with the school stuff?” Yuuki asked, bowling another shot directly into the 500 hoop, which really just existed to comfort people who didn’t know how to play skee-ball.

“Do you know how to incorporate the surrounding elements into a combat spell?” Jun asked, more to be a dick than anything else. Yuuki looked at him blankly. “Yeah, thought not.”

“I was hoping you just needed help studying or something,” Yuuki said. “I was going to offer to quiz you.”

“I appreciate the offer, I do, but studying is actually the only thing I’m good at,” Jun told him. “It’s all the practical stuff I’m bad at.”

“Isn’t your major practical magic?”

“You know, I’d actually managed to forget that for a while. Thanks for reminding me.”

Yuuki looked distressed enough that Jun felt bad for being such a dick. He was taking all his frustrations out on Yuuki, and that wasn’t fair. The whole reason he’d even suggested going to the arcade was so he could take his aggression out on helpless video games.

“So are you gonna keep letting me walk all over you?” Jun asked, giving Yuuki a grin to try and break the tension. “Because so far I’m kicking your ass from here to Sunday.”

“It’s been a while since I played this,” Yuuki admitted, managing to tip his ball into the 2,500 ring.

“Shouldn’t you have better hand eye coordination than me, Mr. Baseball Hotshot?” Jun asked. “By the way, you never told me how your coach took the sign. Tell me you have a picture of his face.”

Yuuki shook his head regretfully.

“I have to leave my phone in the locker room when I’m playing,” he said. “There’s no way for me to carry it. But trust me, your sign was worth it. I’ll be laughing at the look on his face until I graduate.”

“You better have someone ready to take a picture next year,” Jun said.

“Next year?”

“I mean, yeah, obviously I’ll have to come up with something better next year,” Jun said. “I have to keep them on their toes, or else they’ll get complacent.”

“They?”

“They.”

Jun threw his last ball and waited for Yuuki to throw his. Yuuki tried valiantly for the 10,000 slot, misjudged the throw and bounced off the rim for a sad addition of 500 instead.

“So that’s…two hundred twenty-five thousand on my end to your twelve thousand five hundred,” Jun said. “This round goes to me.”

It barely took Yuuki any time to gather his tickets, but Jun had to wait for his pile to print out. He stuffed them into the paper cup he was carrying around, just barely able to shove them all in.

“So do you think you could actually be good at any of these games?” Jun asked, looking around. “Wack-a-mole, maybe?”

“Cute.”

“Oh, how about this?” Jun asked, pointing to a shooter.

“Can you even win tickets on this?” Yuuki asked, eyeing the machine warily.

“Getting to shoot stuff is the prize,” Jun told him. “Come on, kill zombies with me.”

“Those are supposed to be zombies?”

“We’re not exactly playing this for the top of the line graphics, dude.”

Yuuki shrugged and picked up the gun on the left. Jun grinned, grabbing for the leftover gun and dropping some tokens in the machine.

The game started up, and Yuuki shot to select multiplayer. Huh. It looked like he was actually okay at this particular game.

“Take this, ya bastards!” Jun yelled, moving into kill mode. He thought he heard Yuuki chuckle next to him.

He was more than just okay, Jun discovered as the game started up. All of the skill he’d lacked in skee-ball was apparently just being saved for shooter games. Jun wasn’t doing bad on his own, but Yuuki was absolutely mowing his way through zombies. Jun would’ve been a little terrified if he wasn’t so attracted to Yuuki in that moment.

So he had a weakness for strong men who could slaughter zombies. Sue him.

Yuuki absolutely obliterated Jun’s score, and Jun couldn’t even be mad. It was clear who the winner had been here.

“Want to go another round?” Yuuki asked.

“I’m out of tokens,” Jun groaned. “You?”

“I only have one left.”

“Not enough for another round.”

They considered each other.

“Ready to cash out our tickets?” Jun asked.

“Yes, I’ll treasure my eraser for all eternity,” Yuuki deadpanned.

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Jun said. “Maybe you can afford a bouncy ball.”

“Luxury.”

It turned out that Yuuki could not, in fact, afford a bouncy ball. He took his eraser like a man. Jun looked over his options, trying to find something worthy of how badly he’d kicked Yuuki’s ass at skee-ball. He felt his face twist into a sharp grin when he saw the perfect item, pointing it out to the bored looking high schooler manning the counter.

“Here,” he said, grabbing Yuuki’s wrist and slipping something on. Yuuki looked down at his wrist, then back up at Jun.

“What.”

“Look, it says ‘best friends forever’ right here,” Jun said, turning the beads so they faced up. “Very manly. The greatest expression of male friendship.”

“This is what you spent your tickets on?”

“Well, there was some candy too, which I might be persuaded to share if you’re nice to me.”

“Friendship bracelets.”

“Hey man, don’t knock bonds formed in friendship bracelets.” Jun tried desperately to keep a straight face. He wasn’t as good at it as Yuuki. “You’ve been declared my best friend forever. You can never get rid of me now.”

“Bold of you to assume I was trying.”

“Oh man, it got late,” Jun said, pushing out the door. It was already dark. As if on cue, his stomach growled.

“Want to get dinner?”

“I could eat.”

They wandered into a family restaurant nearby. The warm lights and cheap food were the savior of broke university students everywhere.

“I know it’s still a little away, but what are you doing over winter break?” Yuuki asked.

“Going back to my parents’ house,” Jun told him. “We’re getting everyone together for the new year. You’re just staying here, right?”

“Yeah, it’s too much trouble to travel,” Yuuki said. “Especially since Masashi has practice during the break.”

“Must be nice to have everyone here,” Jun said. “It’s easier to have me travel back, even if I like it here.”

“You’re originally from Kanagawa prefecture, right?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll see you over spring vacation, though.”

“Probably not. It’s a longer break for me, so I’m going to visit some friends up north.”

“We could’ve planned this better.”

“It’s not my fault you never tell me things.” Yuuki did the closest thing Jun had ever seen to a pout on his face. “We’re supposed to be best friends forever.”

“I am already regretting the bracelets.” Jun rolled his eyes. “That’s it, give it back.”

“No, I’m keeping it forever.”

They lapsed into silence, finishing up the rest of their food.

“Are you sure I can’t help you with the school stuff?” Yuuki asked. “You seemed pretty upset about it earlier.”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Jun sighed. “Something I have to fix on my own. It’s a personal problem.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Will do.”

After a brief fight about the bill – that ended with Yuuki shoving cash into Jun’s hands for his half of the meal – they left. Saying their goodbyes, Jun headed in the direction of his apartment.

That hadn’t been a date, right? It was normal for two guys to hang out at an arcade together, and it was far from the first time they’d gotten food together. It was just their friendship.

But it kind of felt like a date. I kind of wanted it to be a date, Jun corrected himself.

He’d already known he was starting to fall for Yuuki. But he knew better than to get his hopes up about something unless he knew for sure it was a date. He’d been burned by that before.

But still. He wanted this to be a date.

Maybe it could be, if he worked up the courage to ask Yuuki. If he could figure out his school problems, he’d be free to pursue Yuuki all he wanted.

Which was even more reason to fix his magic shit.

He should get working.

#tetsujun #juntetsu #daiya no a #ace of diamond #dna #my writing #cosa #magic au

2 notes · View notes

awkwardnessandbaseball · 6 years

Text

Galentine’s Day

Happy Valentine’s Day @pearlmackie :)

I’m your CS Secret Valentine! It’s been so lovely to get to know you over the past few weeks, and I hope you like this fic I put together for you ;)

AO3

GALENTINE’S DAY , Emma began to type. She’d been assigned a story on the phenomenon and was less than eager to get started.

“It’s like Valentine’s Day, but with your friends. The girls. The gals, if you will,” Regina had said earlier that day.

“Right but… I don’t have any ‘gals’ to celebrate with. I’m the worst person to assign this story to. Give it to, like, Mary Margaret. She’s probably got enough friends to have Galentine’s Day every day of the week.” Emma really didn’t like to turn an assignment down, but this was just so out of her realm of expertise. She normally did stories that required hours of research and difficult-to-obtain interviews. She’d nearly forced her way into politicians’ offices and snuck into at least three press conferences she hadn’t been invited to.

Storybrooke Press was a no-name newspaper in a no-name town, but it was Emma’s paper and it was her town, too, dammit. She loved stories that exposed hard truths and made people question everything they were being told.

“Mary Margaret’s got some sort of special romance story she’s working on,” Regina had rolled her eyes. “She wants it to be a surprise, but I told her I obviously have to give the ‘OK’ before it goes to print. Regardless, she’s busy. Galentine’s Day is yours.”

Knowing there would be no arguing with Regina anyway, Emma left her office in a huff. Now, she sat in front of her computer, the cursor blinking at her, taunting her.

It wasn’t just that Emma didn’t have any ‘gals’. She didn’t have any… anything. She’d grown up alone, bounced around within the foster system until she’d finally aged out of it. She’d tried her hand at romance, but Neal Cassidy had been the wrong person to try it with. He’d done nothing but lie and cheat, but at the very least, her story about him had gotten her onto the paper to begin with.

When he’d left her broken-hearted and just plain broken, Emma had written a detailed account of all of the jobs they’d pulled – every store robbed and every pocket picked – right up until the stolen watches he’d left in some locker on the other side of the state. She’d written it as a form of self-healing, posting it to a blog she’d kept anonymous.

Regina had been intrigued by her writing style and her voice and had emailed the address Emma had created for the blog. She’d asked her to come into the office. Regina promised to keep the blog separate from the conversation, to never bring up Emma’s past that she’d revealed.

It was unconventional, but it was the first time Emma had seen a future for herself. From the moment she’d walked into the Storybrooke Press offices, she’d felt a sense of comfort that she could only assume felt like coming home.

But just because the writing world had welcomed her with open arms, that hadn’t mean her co-workers needed to do the same. Emma knew she came across as a bit prickly and standoffish, but she’d been alone for… ever. She didn’t know how to approach people with anything less than a large amount of distrust and a small dose of fake smiles. The ladies at the paper all knew she was faking, and made no attempt to coerce her into conversation.

Except Mary Margaret.

The lead writer for the Lifestyle section, Mary Margaret Nolan was the kindest, most giving and open person Emma Swan had ever met in her life. There were times – like when she was sick, and Mary Margaret reached into her purse for tissues and cold medicine; or when she’d locked her keys in her car and there was Mary Margaret with a wire coat hanger, shimmying the window down – when Emma really wished that she could have been adopted by the Nolans. They were the same age, of course, but there was something distinctly motherly about Mary Margaret and Emma felt like a kid again whenever she came around with her freshly baked cookies or collecting signatures for someone’s birthday card. Her husband, David, had come to visit once, delivering a full bouquet of flowers to his wife, but also a single flower for everyone else in the office.

It was part charming, part ridiculous. Emma secretly loved it.

Still, even Mary Margaret was no match for the sky-high walls Emma had built around herself. At first, Mary Margaret had tried inviting her to group outings – trivia night, bowling, happy hour, you name it – but Emma declined, and she stopped asking.

Staring at the yet-to-be-written story on her screen, Emma nearly jumped out of her skin when the very subject of her thoughts spoke from behind her.

“Oh, Regina gave you that story? That’s so lovely!” Mary Margaret was nothing if not genuine, despite all the times Emma had tried to see some sarcasm or skepticism in her tone, a darkness behind the light in her eyes. “Have you decided who you’re going to take?”

“Excuse me?” Take where? , Emma thought to herself.

“Well, which girls you’ll be taking out for Galentine’s Day, of course!” Mary Margaret was bouncing on the balls of her feet, and Emma breathed out a deep sigh.

“I hadn’t really planned on throwing a Galentine’s Day… thing. I’m not sure who to invite.”

Mary Margaret’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, Emma, you should come to mine! We’re going to that restaurant across town with the silly pirate statue out front. They do a really great brunch special to celebrate!”

“I’m sorry, The Jewel of the Realm does a special for Galentine’s Day ?” Emma tried to keep the nasty tone out of her voice, she really did. She snorted, despite herself. “They probably just want all the girls to come in so they can hit on them.” To Emma’s surprise, Mary Margaret giggled.

“Probably! But it’s worth it – all-you-can-eat for two people for twenty dollars!” She bit her lip. “Please come, Emma. I’d love to help you with your story, and some of the girls from the office will be there, and some of my other friends, too.”

“How many… how many people, exactly?” Emma really didn’t relish the idea of sitting at a table with a ton of strange women, watching to them get champagne-drunk on mimosas and listening to them talk about… what did large groups of women talk about? Emma assumed that on a day like “Galentine’s”, they didn’t talk about men.

“Hmm,” Mary Margaret silently counted on her fingers. “I think I’ve got five for sure, including myself. Six, if you agree.” And there she went, bouncing again. Emma resisted the urge to put her head in her hands and instead forced a smile.

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

“Oh, Emma, that’s fantastic! We’ll be there at ten in the morning, and stay till about noon.” Before Emma knew it, Mary Margaret was hugging her, bending down and wrapping her arms around both Emma and her chair.

The things we do for journalism , Emma thought to herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~

At roughly quarter after ten, Emma strolled into the Jewel of the Realm. It was packed, with laughter echoing in every direction. Emma heard champagne glasses clinking and smelled a whole lot of bacon.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“Emma! Over here!” Mary Margaret was waving her arms over her head from a round table with one empty seat. Emma made her way over and Mary Margaret jumped right in with introductions. “So you know Ruby and Elsa from the office,” the two brunettes waved and looked at each other, seemingly surprised that Emma had actually shown up for something, “and this is my neighbor Belle and my childhood best friend, Ashley.”

Emma lifted her hand up in a small wave and promptly took her seat, eager to have all of the attention focused on literally anything in the entire world but her .

The conversation picked up quickly, and Emma felt a bit lost. Here were five women who’d clearly known each other forever. They were talking about memories Emma wasn’t a part of, stories she hadn’t been present for. She had nothing to share, nothing to add.

“Emma, what was your favorite birthday party theme when you were a kid?” Mary Margaret asked her suddenly. “Ashley and I had a joint party one year and everyone dressed up as princesses. It sounds so silly, but it was so fun at the time!”

“I um… I never had a themed birthday party.” It would have been easy to lie, to say she’d had a princess theme too, and to simply agree with everything the other girls said, but Emma was never going to get a story out of this ridiculous day if she didn’t participate on some level.

She was a journalist, dammit.

The table went silent for a moment.

“Me neither,” Elsa said. Every head at the table turned her way and Emma instantly felt herself cool off. “My parents passed away when I was very young. My sister and I were raised by our aunt, and she didn’t really believe in large birthday parties. We each got a cupcake or a few brownies, but never a party.” Her eyes met Emma’s from across the table.

“I was raised by my Grandma,” Ruby jumped in. “She’d bake me a cake or something, but I almost always had to work at the diner on my birthday once I was old enough. No bouncy castles for me, either.”

Emma cleared her throat.

“I was raised in the foster system.” Oh God, what have I done? She hoped Elsa and Ruby didn’t think she was trying to out-do their stories, make her own childhood sound worse, as though it were a competition. “I get myself a cupcake on my birthday every year now, though,” she added with a shrug. “We all have our traditions, I guess.”

She looked around, and all the women at the table were smiling at her.

On her second trip to the buffet, she was so focused on the seven different bread options, that she completely missed the man behind the station talking to her.

“Miss?” he said, and he sounded exasperated, as though he’d said it more than once. Emma looked up and instantly felt herself blush.

A man with dark hair and blue eyes, who looked as though he hadn’t shaved in three days, was staring at her. And he was hot .

“Sorry, yes?” Emma blinked a few times. He grinned, clearly pleased with himself for catching her off guard.

“I was asking you if you’d like bacon, ham, or sausage.” He winked. Oh, God . Emma tilted her head.

“This is the bread station,” she replied, instantly feeling absolutely ridiculous. The man laughed good-naturedly.

“Yes, it is. But the meat station is up ahead, and my brother asked me to find out what you’d like, so he can have it ready for you. That okay?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her, waiting.

“Oh. Okay.” He was far too good looking to be taking her breakfast order on a day when she wasn’t supposed to be talking about men. Or was she? Was that rule ever actually established? “Bacon, I guess.”

“Excellent.” He walked away and reported her order to the man at the grill. The man handed over the spatula and Emma watched as the dark-haired man started cooking her food himself. It shouldn’t have been hot, but she found herself biting her lip. Focus, girl!

“I thought you said your brother was manning this station,” she said as she reached the grill, plate half covered with a slice of wheat toast alongside an everything bagel.

“I told him this was a special order, so he could take a break.” The man looked up from the grill, his eyes meeting hers. “That okay?”

“You ask that a lot,” Emma mused.

“I try to make sure I’m not offending anyone,” he grinned, passing the sizzling bacon from the grill to her plate.

“You’re not,” she smirked at him. Belatedly, as she sat back down at the table, Emma realized they’d been flirting.

By the time noon came around, Emma was full of mimosa and eggs and toast and bacon… and a little more mimosa.

Spilling her past about the foster system had been tough, but once it was out in the open, Emma found it easier to relax and tell stories – good and bad – about her childhood. She listened to Belle’s stories about her beast of an ex, and shared her own gripes about Neal. Mary Margaret talked about her struggles to get pregnant and Emma found herself tearing up.

“You can adopt me,” she said before she could think better of it. The whole table laughed, and for a moment, Emma was embarrassed.

“Um, me too, please!” Ruby shouted.

“You and David have enough room for three grown adult women to become your adopted children, right?” Elsa was nearly crying with laughter.

And then they all had tears streaming down their faces, and Emma wasn’t sure how much of it was out of sadness for Mary Margaret’s struggles or their own pasts and how much of it was out of pure, unadulterated amusement at the idea of David Nolan being surrounded by four adult women, three of whom were proclaiming to be his children.

She was nearly out the door, check paid and phone numbers exchanged with girls she’d barely even known a few hours ago, when Emma caught the eye of the man who’d made her bacon.

“How was it?” he shouted from his post – he’d moved onto eggs, apparently.

Emma found herself walking back into the restaurant towards him.

“It was decent,” she shrugged. His jaw dropped.

“Just decent?”

She shrugged again.

“Let me cook you something else.”

“I’m pretty full, actually. Mimosas and eggs and toast and all that.” She looked up at him, wondering what his next move would be.

“Tomorrow then.” He was determined, the set of his jaw and the furrow in his brow told her as much.

“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day,” she laughed. He raised an eyebrow.

“Have you got plans?” She couldn’t read his face or his tone anymore.

“Well, no, but—”

“Great. We’re having a Solo Special. If you come in and let me, Killian Jones, co-owner of The Jewel of the Realm, cook you the meal of your choosing, it’s on the house.”

“I’m sorry, you’re offering a free meal tomorrow?” A short gentleman serving himself some eggs interrupted. Killian didn’t turn away from Emma’s stare.

“Only for her,” he said simply. “She said my bacon cooking skills were decent. I’m simply out to prove her wrong.”

Jaw hanging open, Emma was speechless.

“What do you say, then? One-time only offer. Unless you like the food. And me. Then you can probably come again some other time and chances are, I’ll cook you something on the house again.” He winked at her.

Flirting, again.

“Okay,” Emma was surprised to hear herself say. It must have been all of the mimosas. She’d see if she actually felt like showing her face in this restaurant again when she woke up clear-headed.

“What shall I place the reservation under?” he asked her as she turned to leave.

“Emma Swan,” she told him, and she left.

~~~~~~~~~~~

GALENTINES DAY , Emma typed in a brand-new Word document. She hadn’t gotten any further than the title in her original attempt, but starting fresh with a brand new perspective felt like it would be good for the story.

For someone who grew up on the outside looking in, Galentines Day seemed like little more than an excuse for a bunch of women to get drunk on mimosas and complain about their lives. There didn’t seem to be a point to it – don’t ladies get together all the time to talk about menial things? Why a whole day dedicated to it?

But then I realized Galentines Day is about more than just champagne served before noon.

Valentine’s Day is about showing the person you care for romantically that you cherish them. You show them love every day, but on one day every year, you’re allowed to get as cheesy and romantic and heart-eyed as you deem fit. You can get sappy and wax poetic about the first time you met, and how their eyes struck your soul or some other over-used line that would seem out of place on any other day.

Galentines Day is about showing your friends that you cherish them. It’s about sharing your past and your present and your hopes for the future, and about making new friends when you didn’t think you could. It’s about appreciating each other in a way that maybe you don’t go out of your way to do the rest of the year.

And maybe it’s also about drinking champagne before noon.

It turned into a late night and an early morning, Emma writing and editing and writing and editing. She made it strictly factual, then added opinions back in. She shared one of her own experiences from brunch, then erased it for fear of exposing some part of herself she wasn’t ready to share.

She handed in exactly 700 words to Regina exactly nine minutes late, but there were no complaints, and both women seemed to think they’d won, somehow.

“So, are you going back to see that hot guy today?” Ruby asked Emma at lunch. Apparently, making friends also meant that Emma didn’t have to eat her lunch alone at her desk anymore. She was invited to the diner next door, owned by Ruby’s grandmother, with the rest of the girls.

“What hot guy?” Emma, of course, knew exactly what hot guy, but she hadn’t realized that anyone else had even noticed their interactions from the day before.

“Don’t play dumb,” Ruby grinned. “I came out of the bathroom and saw you talking to the guy at the egg station. I thought I heard him offer you a free meal.”

“Wait, the owner of The Jewel of the Realm offered to cook for you?” Elsa’s voice reached a record-high pitch.

Ruby, Mary Margaret, and Emma all turned to her, surprised by her reaction.

“I’ve had a crush on Liam for forever ,” Elsa admitted. “I go there, like, once a week, hoping I can get his attention somehow.”

“Liam? Oh… that must be Killian’s brother,” Emma realized.

“There, now you have to go back!” Ruby grabbed Emma’s hands. “If only to set poor Elsa over here up with Liam.” She gave her best attempt at a puppy dog pout, but only ended up looking like a model posing for a photograph.

By the end of lunch, Emma was pretty sure she was going back to The Jewel of the Realm.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, do you have a reservation?” The hostess smiled at her.

“Um, maybe? If I do, it’s under Emma.” She couldn’t believe she was here. It was Valentine’s Day, and some stranger was cooking her dinner. Was this a date? It seemed like a date. But did dates generally cook you food… in the restaurant you were eating in?

The hostess grinned even wider, somehow.

“Emma Swan?” Emma nodded. “Yes, there’s a reservation here. You can follow me.”

The girl led her to a table off to the side, somehow just a bit quieter than the rest of the restaurant. There were two place settings and a candle in the center of the table.

“Killian will be with you shortly,” the hostess told her, as though Killian were just another server and not the owner of the damn restaurant .

What the hell was Emma doing here?

She sat for a moment and considered getting right back up and walking about, but a man approached her with a wine list and she decided that if nothing else, alcohol would certainly help her feel a bit more at ease. She’d done all of the flirting in the world yesterday with just a bit of champagne in her system after all.

She chose a cheap white from the bottom of the list, but she knew as soon as she tasted her glass that it was top-shelf. Cheap wine didn’t go down that smoothly.

“I hope you didn’t order a low-grade wine because you thought you’d have to pay for it,” Killian said as he sat down, seeming to appear out of nowhere.

Emma blushed.

“I told you this was on the house,” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“You said the food was on the house,” she pointed out, unfolding her napkin across her lap, simply for something to do.

He sighed.

“The whole thing is on the house, Swan. You’re lovely and I would have asked you on a proper date for Valentine’s Day, but I own a restaurant, so this is pretty much the best I can do.” He bit his lip, and for the first time, Emma realized that he might be as nervous as she was. “Is this okay?”

“This is nice,” she assured him. “It’s great, actually. I’ve never had anyone cook me a meal before, so you’ve got a low bar set for you.”

“No one’s ever cooked for you?” He looked far more surprised than she’d expected. She shrugged and shook her head. “What’s your favorite food? We’re talking, last meal before the electric chair, guilty pleasure, absolutely cannot live without it meal.” He stood as he spoke.

“Um, I don’t have a very refined palate,” she admitted. She admitted that she’d grown up on lukewarm French fries and day old peanut butter sandwiches, mostly.

He smiled.

“Chicken tenders and onion rings it is.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

Wine with a kids meal , Emma thought to herself. The epitome of romance .

Killian came back with a huge pile of onion rings and a basket of chicken tenders. It smelled incredible, and Emma’s mouth began to water.

“I know it’s not exactly a romantic meal, but I find that eating whatever food makes you happy also helps you enjoy the company you’re with.”

“Is that some long-winded cliché you just made up on the spot?”

He grinned.

“Maybe.”

“So, did you make all of this fresh, just for me?” She hadn’t kept track of how long he’d been gone, not wanting his staff to catch her glancing at her phone constantly. They were no doubt all watching her, and she didn’t want them telling her she was an impatient jerk who couldn’t wait for her food to come out.

“I did,” he said. He at her, and she met his eyes. She believed him.

The food was unsurprisingly delicious.

“How are you able to sit and enjoy an entire meal in the restaurant you own on such a busy night?” She asked him as she finished her third glass of wine.

“My brother’s running the floor right now, he’ll come and get me if he needs me.” Killian sipped his water, still working despite the fact that this was very clearly a date.

“Speaking of your brother, I have a friend—”

“That blonde girl from your party yesterday? Oh God, please tell me she’s interested in him.” Killian rolled his eyes. “She’s in here constantly and all Liam does is whine about how pretty she is, but he won’t just go and talk to her.”

Emma laughed, and Killian tilted his head.

“She is,” she said when she caught her breath. “When she heard the owner of this place was cooking me dinner, she almost lost her mind. I had to tell her it was you, not your brother.”

This time, Killian laughed with her, and they must have looked quite the pair, cracking up with a half-empty bottle of wine on the table.

“Bring her with you next time, then.”

“Next time?”

“Yes, if… if you want to come back, that is.” There was that nervous smile again.

Emma nodded.

“I do. This was… nice.”

“Killian!” came a voice from the opposite end of the restaurant. Killian’s eyes closed as his head fell forward.

“I’ll be right back ,” he assured her, reaching over and squeezing her hand before he went.

He was only gone a few moments, but he looked much more disheveled upon his return.

“I’m afraid we’re down a cook, so I’ve got to head into the kitchen and take over. I’m so sorry. I hope—”

“Do you have time to walk me out?” Emma bit her lip, feeling the buzz from the wine bring a flush to her cheeks. She pulled out her phone to order an Uber. “I’ve got… six minutes until my driver arrives.” She looked back up at him.

“Yeah, I can spare that,” he grinned. He helped her into her jacket and offered her his arm. They walked out of the restaurant together, and the hostess erupted into giggles as soon as they passed her.

“This was a really nice night, Killian. Thank you.” Emma told him as soon as they were outside.

“I’m glad. I was a bit nervous you wouldn’t come.”

“I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “But the girls at work convinced me that it was a good idea.”

“I’ll have to thank them sometime.” He took a step closer to her.

“When should I come back with Elsa?” she asked, feet glued to the spot they were in. Would he come closer still?

“Whenever you like. I’m usually not here Tuesdays and Liam’s not here Thursdays. Other than that, I’m all yours.” He was nearly flush against her now.

She tilted her chin up, wondering if people still kissed on the first date. She thought for a moment about how horrible her onion breath probably was, but before she could consider it too deeply, he was kissing her.

He stopped quickly.

“Was that ok—”

She grabbed his jacket and kissed him again. Her phone buzzed with the arrival of her Uber. She pulled away and sure enough, there was the blue Ford Focus she was supposed to be waiting for.

“I’ll be in on Friday,” she told him before she could think better of it, and climbed into the car. She could see him through the passenger side mirror, touching his lips and staring after her, and she smiled.

#captain swan #captain swan fic #galentinesday #galentinesgift #csvalentines #valentinesday #captain swan ff #captain swan fic rec #captain swan secret valentine #cssv #cs #cs fic #cs fanfic #pearlmackie

33 notes · View notes

ours-is-feral-love · 7 years

Text

O Captain! My Captain!

Summary: Klaus and Caroline are declared team captains for a girls versus boys dodgeball game on the last day of senior year. (AU/AH)

It was too hot to be outside. Southern Virginia in mid-June was no friend to gym classes. Because of the outrageous heat—103 degrees Fahrenheit, to be exact—Mr. Tanner decided to keep them in. Caroline Forbes was glad for it. She despised the humid weather, mainly for its adverse effect on her sweat glands, but the way it frizzed her gorgeous blond locks didn't help, either.

They were rounded up in the centre of the gym. Mr. Tanner stood in front of them, his favourite whistle hanging around his neck. He swerved his eyes and moved around, making sure to look each of the twenty students in the eye before he opened his mouth.

"Are you guys ready for this?"

Caroline nudged her best friend Bonnie and the two girls had to work hard to hold in their inappropriate giggles. If there was one thing Mr. Tanner hated more than when the Mystic Falls High Timberwolves lost their football games, it was when kids laughed out of turn.

Not that they were really kids. Each person in the room was of age. They were the seniors who had opted to keep up with gym due to their athletic tendencies. Mr. Tanner adored each of them, really, but he would still yell if someone laughed at an unsuitable time. Caroline remembered unceremoniously chuckling her first day as a freshman when Damon Salvatore—a repeat freshman forced to be in a gym class with his little brother—face planted after trying to dunk a basketball. Tanner shouted at her in front of everyone for her discrepancy, which only made Damon stare smugly at her the rest of the period.

She cried in the locker room for almost five minutes after gym finished and was late to her next class. Ever since she had learned to keep her mouth shut whenever something funny happened in Mr. Tanner's gymnasium.

"Come on, people, are you ready for this?" Tanner repeated, and the crowd around him cheered as loud as they could. He smiled. "Perfect. Alright, the game is dodgeball. You know the rules. Girls versus boys, with Mikaelson and Forbes leading. Let's see who can win this battle of the sexes. Break." Tanner blew his whistle loudly and the group of seniors disbanded, the girls following Caroline to the basketball hoop nearest their locker room, the boys following Klaus Mikaelson to the hoop nearest theirs.

When the other nine girls had settled around her, their bodies forming a crescent-shaped shield, Caroline clapped her hands together, her heart racing as she mentally prepared her pep talk.

"Alright, girls," she said, looking at her teammates, "this is it. The last class of our last day of senior year. As soon as this game is over, we leave the grounds forever. Well, we leave the grounds until graduation next week, but you get my point." Caroline took in a deep breath. Each woman surrounding her was wholly absorbed in her words, all of them nodding along. "It is our time to show those asshole guys what we're made of. Time to beat their asses into the ground with our superior dodgeball playing skills. We will not be defeated by them. We will exit this gymnasium champions! Too long have women in sports been looked down upon, but we are going to go out there and prove we are the stronger sex."

"Hell yeah!" Bonnie cheered, pumping her fist in the air.

Caroline grinned at her best friend, so happy in that moment they were headed to the same university in the fall. She couldn't last without Bonnie Bennet in her life. "Elena and Kat," Caroline pointed at the Gilbert twins, "you two are taking the left side. Klaus will place Stefan and Tyler there, but you can't fear them. You must crush them. Anna and Lexi, you'll take the right. Matt and Lucian'll have that side. Rose, help us from the back. You're the tallest and you've got a good throw. Bon and I will be up front with Klaus and Stefan. The rest of you are our backup. Everyone good with that?"

Nobody challenged Caroline's placements. They understood how well she knew Klaus Mikaelson's mind. There was no questioning if her calls were correct. If she said it, it would end up being true. Her girls nodded in agreement and Caroline called them to put their hands in.

"This is our last chance to defeat them," she said, noting the excited energy rising in the room. "Let's do this. Down with the boys on three. One, two"—

—"DOWN WITH THE BOYS!" the girls cried, throwing their hands in the air.

"Let's go!"

Caroline pushed her teammates towards the lined up red and black balls. They all lined up accordingly and Caroline smiled to herself when, after they broke—DOWN WITH THE GIRLS (how original)—the boys all took their spots exactly where Caroline had said they would.

Klaus came to stand directly in front of her on the other side of the line.

"I'm gonna bring you down, Mikaelson," she vowed, raising an eyebrow. She bent at the knees and bounced on her feet.

"I'd like to see you try, Forbes," he responded, smirking his famous smirk.

Frowning, Caroline stretched her arms. Klaus Mikaelson was captain of the cross country team. His bronzed curls, lean body, and English accent (and let's not forget that aforementioned smirk) got all the girls at their school hot and bothered. Caroline had to admit he looked good in a gym uniform. The red somehow brought out the blues of his eyes and the light tan on his usually pale skin.

The two were standing so close she could smell the hint of lavender in the cologne he had sprayed on his chest. She loved the scent of lavender.

Shaking her head, the blond-haired team captain shook out her legs and arms, reminding herself to glare at the boy standing opposite her.

"Is everybody ready?" Tanner asked from he sidelines. He held his whistle inches from his mouth.

"Ready," Caroline and Klaus said in unison. Oh, she was going to beat him so bad he would bruise.

"Okay! Let's dodgeball!" Tanner blew his whistle and the game began.

Caroline lunged forward and reached out for the ball nearest her. She beat Klaus to it, snatching the red ball and retreating from the centre line. There was a frenzy of squeaking trainers as the separate teams attempted to gather up the remaining balls.

"Nice work!" Caroline applauded when the line was clear and her team came away with the most weapons.

Rotating the ball in her hands, she watched as Elena Gilbert chucked her black ball into Tyler Lockwood's knee. The raven-haired football captain staggered back. Tanner's whistle let out a shrill whine, announcing Lockwood's exit from the game. He limped off court, throwing an angry look towards Elena.

Caroline threw the ball in her hands towards Matt Donovan, a footballer as well. It brushed his shoulder, forcing him to drop the ball he was holding to the floor. Tanner blew his whistle twice, and Caroline looked briefly around, watching as Lexi angrily stomped off the court. Her replacement came off the bench, giving Caroline a high five as she passed.

"Come on, ladies, we can do this!" Caroline said as she dodged a throw made by Stefan Salvatore. Reaching down, she managed to grab a ball and lob it back to her tormenter, smacking him square in the gut. Winded, Stefan retreated. "Keep it up!"

The game continued. Caroline's blood pumped like fire through her veins. The whole room was making a fuss, cheering on their separate team. Tanner's whistle blew every few seconds as the tough black and red balls were thrown all around the room, knocking players out left and right. She watched out of the corner of her eye as a ball slammed into Bonnie's shoulder, and her best friend ran for the bleachers after flipping a very discreet middle finger to her attacker.

"You can do it, Caroline! He's got nothing on you!" she exclaimed as she sat down.

Caroline glanced at the sidelines, shaking out of her reverie. She had been so focused on the game she had failed to realise the only two players that remained on the court were her and Klaus Mikaelson. Most of the balls were on Caroline's side of the court, but Klaus had two he could easily chuck in her direction. She knew his footwork, though. Knew his strategies. Ever since they came head to head in a girls versus boys soccer match when they were twelve, she had made it a point to study his game. Maybe she could still win this one.

Bending down, Caroline grabbed the red ball nearest her. The bouncy, plastic material felt wet and hot. She tossed it in her hands. Threw it to the ground and caught it as it came back up. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose and opened her mouth to let it out. She was ready for this.

Klaus had no ball. He was biding his time. Standing before her with nothing but his hard face, he flared his nostrils and swiped his sweaty hands on his dark red shirt.

"It all ends here, Mikaelson," she said, bouncing the ball on the ground. The crowd was silent. The only noise in the room was the sound of her ball hitting the wooden gym floor. "This game is mine."

"In your dreams, Forbes. I'll find a way out of this."

"Oh, yeah? The two balls on your side of the line are out of reach. One move and I throw this thing so hard you'll be telling your friends for years to come about that last day of senior year and the awesome, spectacular, gorgeous blond who knocked your front teeth out with a dodgeball."

Klaus' lips lifted briefly in a half-smile. "You'll be paying for the dental work, love," he said, his use of the word love accelerating Caroline's heartbeat. "Besides, I've got something up my sleeve."

She knew what he had up his sleeve. Quick dodge to the left to grab the nearest ball. But Caroline was ready for that. She was also ready for the four backup plans he could potentially employ should his first plan fail. She intended to get to him before he had time to find his footing.

Checking the clock above the exit, Caroline noted they only had five minutes before the bell released them. She needed to end this quick.

"You've always got something up your sleeve. When will you learn that I'm always two, five, ten steps ahead of you, though?" she taunted. "In dodgeball, in English, in life. Give it up, Mikaelson. I've already won."

The spectators couldn't keep their mouths shut after that remark. Their friends rose to their feet and started chanting. Even Tanner joined them, just as into the game as his students.

Klaus lowered his heavy forehead. His brows moved down. Caroline couldn't see his eyes anymore.

In a flash, Klaus Mikaelson dove to the left—of course; it was so obvious—and reached for the black ball a few feet away, but Caroline Forbes was poised for the kill. She threw the ball in her hands with all that she had, clipping her opponent on the forearm before his fingertips grazed the ball he had originally lunged for. And just like that, the game, the year, her life as a high school student, was over.

Their classmates poured out from the bleachers. All of the girls surrounded a panting Caroline as the bell rang for the final time.

"You did it!" Bonnie shrieked, squeezing Caroline tight.

"I did, I did!" she responded, eyes meeting Klaus' as he was comforted by his pals. She could see them again. The blue in them calmed her, like it always did. She pulled away from Bonnie. "But I couldn't have done it without all of you girls. Thanks so much"—

—"Shower time, ladies," Mr. Tanner interrupted. "You can give your thank you speech in the locker room."

Dismissed, the girls headed for their changing room, laughing freely now they were not bound by Mr. Tanner's silly rules.

"Bye, Caroline," Bonnie said, blowing Caroline a kiss as she exited the locker room. "I'll see you on Sunday for dress shopping!"

"Bye, Bon!"

Caroline applied a dusting of translucent powder to her face, white fluffy towel still wrapped around her body. She liked being the last person out of the locker room. It gave her enough time to get herself ready for whatever the rest of the day had in store.

Done with her makeup, she threw on her Last Day of High School outfit, a white dress with an embroidered rose on the hem, and closed her gym locker. She inspected herself in the full-length mirror by the exit door and, satisfied with her look, opened the door and stepped out into the outrageous heat. Already, she could feel her makeup sliding off of her face.

Caroline went around the school to the back lot and found a black Mustang soft top blocking her path. Leaning against the driver's side door, arms folded and sunglasses atop his curly-haired head, was none other than Klaus Mikaelson, decked out in a grey t-shirt and his favourite dark jeans. How he wasn't dead wearing long trousers was beyond her. Weren't the English supposed to despise hot weather?

"Waiting for a rematch, Mikaelson?" she jeered, adjusting the strap of her backpack as she approached him.

He placed his hands inside of his pockets and gave her a shrug. There was a bruise forming where she had hit him with the ball. "You beat me fair and square, Forbes. I won't contest that."

"Good." She stopped just short of reaching him. There was that lavender scent again. It lingered beneath her nose. "How long have you been waiting?"

Klaus' face broke out into a wide smile. He opened his arms and Caroline stepped into his grasp, burying her face in his t-shirt. "Long enough. You always take forever to get ready. Sometimes I contemplate just leaving you here to walk home."

"Hey." She caught his gaze. "I do most of this for you, you know."

"I like you the way you are. You don't need to put makeup on to impress me anymore. It's been three years, love. I'm comfortable looking at you with a clean face."

Grinning like a lovesick fool, Caroline closed the tiny gap between her and Klaus, cementing her lips over his. Warmth that had nothing to do with the overbearing sun crept beneath Caroline's skin.

"You're only saying that," Caroline said between kisses, "because you're afraid I'll bruise your other arm."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Okay, maybe I am."

Caroline laughed into Klaus' mouth before pulling away. "Come on. Let's go to the Grill to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Klaus asked as she got inside the car. "The end of the school year or you beating me at dodgeball."

Smiling up at her boyfriend, Caroline said, "Both. Now get in. I'm sweating my skin off in this heat."

#klaroline #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #klaroline fanfiction #drabble/oneshot #fanfiction #au #ah #high school

75 notes · View notes