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ofmermaidstories · 2 years

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hi merms! i hope this doesn't come across as weird or anything. i'm a student stuck at home in a less than ideal living situation and am kind of going through a hard time. your blog just brings me so much joy and i scroll through it at the end of every day because your little updates and doodles have such a warm presence. it's just very lovely and comforting and i wanted to thank you for being a sort of safe harbor.

Oh Anon. I’m sorry; it’s hard when you don’t have immediate options. ☹️ They will come, eventually, but in the meantime you are doing so well. It’s not easy to stay afloat!!! And sometimes we have to because if we don’t it makes things worse but I think you are doing wonderfully, even if it doesn’t feel like it. You’re so clever for doing school!!!! It might be a hard slog but those options it will give you—they will be golden. 🥺 And I hope they mean nothing but freedom. 🌷

In the meantime, my little love, would you like some inane prattling? It’ll be like we’re facetiming, kinda!!! I guess it’s super one-sided though but uh… let’s pretend anyways. I actually fell asleep last night watching a tiktok live (lmfao) of someone just walking around their city—it was so relaxing, but the next thing I knew I was waking up at like, 2am and the live had ended and tiktok had scrolled me onto a foreign news… channel streaming?

Speaking of tiktok: I saw a really interesting video about someone talking about Mariah Carey re-releasing this secret soft-grunge album she made in the 90s? She’d spend her days like, recording her pop album—the money maker—and then spend her nights with a handful of people writing and recording the grunge album and I dunno—I really admire that! Like, beyond admiring Mariah in general for just being an artist, it’s fascinating hearing about people like—burning the candle at both ends in the pursuit of something creative, you know? I kinda touched on this in my last ask, I guess, but it’s such a luxury to be able to do that (in a way—Mariah was eventually found out by her record company and her controlling husband, neither of which wanted her to make or release that album, so then she got a friend to do the vocals for it and released everything super secretly, like that). But beyond Mariah’s specific case, it’s just—I dunno. I admire the drive to do whatever you need to make that one thing that’s eating away at you. Writing before work, during it if you can—after, when you should be making dinner or sleeping. Humans are so funny. I love it so much (sometimes).

I got the two books I had on hold at the library out, today! I wore my romance novels t-shirt, which was unintentional, but hey at least it was thematic. The problem is is that I think I have been too optimistic about my willingness to devote time to reading, LOL. Where did this hunger come from??? Oh my gosh, no, Anon, listen—if you could do one thing without failing, one thing that would work out perfectly, what would you do? Because I was thinking about this today, right, when I was in the library and looking at books and mulling over how I would answer your ask and I think I would run a little bookshop. Booktok is a plague but it’s also shown that if you give people a genuine community where they can like—talk about things they like (or don’t) and recommend stuff to each other, it like, just seems to remind people, and introduce people, of/to the wonders of reading??? And if I knew I could run a little business without it like tanking and taking me with it, then—I’d have a little bookshop!!! Just a tiny one!!!! Order enough of the popular titles to bring in people, and then throw in some newer authors that sound fun, and then some obscure things. And have romances novels—so many!!!

We have a little bookstore in town and sometimes I like to pop in and browse it—the woman that works there is very sweet. She wrote and self-published a book about how much she loves her horses! But we always chat (she always asks me about the book that I was writing, when I first met her—although I’ve updated her to the fact that we’re writing anime-boyfriend fanfic now LMAO), and about a month or so ago I was in there and she was like, “Don’t panic, but I have to close the shop because I’ve promised next door that I would work their til for them, so I’m going to close the door and if you need me, or you wanna leave, just come through the closet!”

The closet, it turns out, is this actual, teeny tiny skinny silver of space—behind a bookcase. You just pull the bookcase forward and viola! There’s a little corner corridor that leads into the toy shop next door. It’s absolutely magical. I was completely euphoric—I had an entire bookstore to myself, for as long as I wanted: just me and all those books, and then when I left I opened a secret passage that let me into the toy store next door. Like!!!! It was delightful. It makes me laugh. I love knowing that it’s there. I love that little shop. It has a little table in the middle of the store with a vase of flowers, where they arrange books for display and the whole place is brightly lit and behind the counter they have a rack of wrapping paper. 🥺

I dunno, Anon. 🥺 If I could make things easier for you, I would. The very least that any of us is owed is safety and security and a place to thrive. You’re doing well, Anon. And this won’t be forever, no matter what the hardest days try to tell you otherwise. 🥺 You are doing well and you are okay and if you want something silly to distract you then I will do the same thing for you that I’m doing for our other Anon, beforehand—I’ll save up whatever fun or thought-provoking thing I can find and bring them to the table for our pseudo video-chats. 🌷📱💕

#ofmermaidstories-asks #you’re a good egg anon and i am *willing* the week ahead to be good to you 🥺💕

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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

Text

Tracing Time

Monday, 15:18

Song: The Neighbourhood - Reflections

The clock at the front of the lecture hall is too far away for Sander to actually hear its ticking, but it feels like it’s louder than the tapping of his pen where he’s drumming it against his notebook. This is propped open with only a few lines of actual notes and a lot of doodles, with a quick, ragged sketch of Robbe on the bottom half of the page. Sander sighs quietly to himself as he fails his futile attempt to listen to the professor, and goes back to the drawing to add on some extra shading and more careful detail.

This is so much easier to get caught up in. Time disappears when it comes to art or Robbe, so combining the two is similar to falling into a black hole. The gravity of it is so strong, making it impossible for Sander to escape as time stops and everything else ceases to exist. He gets eaten up in it, lost until the point where everything whites out but the scratch of pen on paper and the familiar shape of Robbe’s eyes. There is no talking or ticking to make him want to peel his skin off (or at least fidget about in his chair).

It’s not the best plan, however, because he zones out a little too completely. He doesn’t realise that the class has ended until a girl clears her throat next to him, standing in the aisle and waiting to get past. Sander whips his gaze around and notices his other classmates already filing out of the room.

He flushes, muttering an apology as he quickly gets to his feet and presses back to let the girl and her friend slip past him. She glances down at his notebook as she passes and her lips quirk in a knowing smile, but she merely says, “Cute. Nice work on the lips.”

Sander’s blush deepens, but he returns her smile and manages to thank her quietly before she slips away. Her friend raises her brows and smirks at him, but doesn’t say anything as she follows. He lets out a breath and slumps back against his now folded-up chair, taking a moment to collect himself. He snatches up his bag and hastily stows away his belongings, only taking time to carefully close the notebook and tuck it in between the others in his bag. He trots down the steps and almost makes it to the door without any further embarrassment, and then the professor is calling his name.

Lars Coomans isn’t Sander’s favourite professor, only because he teaches art theory rather than anything practical. Sander doesn’t mind learning about history when he finds the subject interesting, but that only happens about twelve percent of the time. (Again, this isn’t Lars’ fault.) The man is not his favourite professor, but he might be one of his favourite people. He’s a tall man in his late forties with a tiny bald patch on the right side of his head and a soft voice. He’s relatively laid back and certainly kind.

For this reason, Sander doesn’t even feel the need to groan as he hangs back, even while the last stragglers shoot him curious looks on the way out. Lars waits until they’ve left to smile at Sander and lean back against his desk, head tilted as he considers his student.

Now, Sander begins to feel a bit nervous.

“How are you, Sander?”

The question is kind, careful, and it baffles him. He knows that all of his professors are aware of his illness, but none of them make a habit of checking up on him. They’re aware, from when he misses a week or two of classes or, on the rare occasion, needs to ask for an extension on an assignment. They’re aware, but beyond that, it doesn’t come up. No one makes a fuss about it and he’s grateful. And maybe Lars isn’t, either, maybe it’s just his kindness sprouting in the start of the conversation, nothing more than a mere courtesy. But the searching way he’s looking at Sander makes him hesitant, and he clasps his right hand around his left wrist and shifts on his feet before clearing his throat. He decides to take the casual route. “I’m fine, how are you?”

Lars seems to relax, lips quirking further for a moment before he shakes his head and waves a hand. “Oh, good, good, thank you. No, I’m not trying to be nosy, I just ask because you didn’t submit your assignment before noon today.”

Sander blinks. “Sorry?”

“The papers that were due this morning?” Lars blinks back, tilting his head. When Sander continues to stare at him blankly, he offers, “On the renaissance?”

Oh. Sander’s mouth opens and closes for a moment before he finds his voice. “But that’s not due until Friday evening?” It comes out as a question as his brow furrows in confusion. He’s sure the two assignments weren’t due in one day, and he frequently checks his calendar. He’s lost, and he’s beginning to panic slightly.

“No, it was due today,” Lars says softly, searching again as he crosses his legs at the ankles and taps the edge of his desk. “Daems has an assignment due on Friday, I believe, you have him, don’t you?”

Realisation hits abruptly. “Fuck,” he breathes, raising a hand to cover his face. “Shit, sorry. I don’t know—I must have mixed the dates, put the classes in wrong.” Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But Lars just nods, his whole posture softening in understanding. “Alright,” he sighs. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up, it’s an easy mistake. Can you get it to me by the end of the day?”

Sander swallows. “I haven’t started it,” he admits. He’d started doing the research, but he didn’t even have enough of that yet. He would be lucky to finish that by the end of the day, never mind the paper itself.

“Okay, well, you thought you had until Friday.” Lars rubs a hand over his chin and finally just shakes his head. “Alright. I’ll put you down for an extension until the time you thought it was due. And at least you don’t have the other one to worry about now, since I’m assuming that means you submitted it this morning.”

Relief flows through Sander in streams, but the banks are prickled. He purses his lips tightly and squeezes his wrist. “Lars, I just fucked up. I don’t have a good excuse, I don't want any pity.”

“No,” Lars immediately protests, pushing away from his desk to stand closer to Sander. “It’s nothing of the sort. No pity, or special treatment. You explained you made a mistake and I’ve no reason not to trust you.” He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re one of the best students here, Sander. I know because I pass that work of yours on the street every day. Even someone that good has to slip up sometimes, hm?”

Sander can only stare at him, feeling his cheeks warm again. He ducks his head, embarrassed at the compliment and the thought of his professor seeing the magnitude of his sappy love on a regular basis.

Lars only chuckles, bumping Sander’s shoulder. “I know I’m teasing, but I mean it. You’ve never even asked me for an extension before. I know you weren’t just slacking off. It feels bad, I know, but it’s not a big deal, kid. Just brush it off and then get it done, alright?”

Sander considers him. Then with a deep breath, he nods and murmurs, “Thank you.”

“Don’t stress.” Lars squeezes his shoulder, then waves him away. “Come find me or email me if you have any questions, okay? Now go on, no need to hang around an old man any longer.”

Sander huffs, but offers him one last nod and grateful smile before making his way out. As soon as he’s passed through the door, he falters in his step and his eyes close, anger towards himself returning with a vengeance. How could he have made such a stupid mistake? How has it taken this long for that to happen?

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes for a moment, willing the frustration away. It doesn’t work entirely, but he manages a few slow breaths and collects himself enough to leave. He doesn’t think too much about where he’s going, just follows the feeling and lets his feet carry him to his bike, then pedal automatically through the streets.

The garage comes into view, and Sander tucks his bike away before rapping his knuckles against the door, not having to think about the familiar knock beyond muscle memory. His feet are tapping on the ground, and he does his best to shake the nerves out of his skin as he waits.

He’s not in full panic mode yet, not really. The only thoughts he can conjure are more swears and variations of stupid, stupid, stupid. He needs something distracting enough to quiet these rants down, but mindless enough that he can attempt to sort his thoughts out.

This is part of the reason he can’t go to Robbe, no matter how much he wants to. Robbe will be too kind. Too soothing. He’s the only one ever able to fully drown out Sander’s thoughts enough so that he stops being unkind to himself.

He doesn’t want that, at the moment. He thinks he deserves this more.

This being the frustration that leads him to bang the rhythmic code on the door once more when he doesn’t get an answer.

“Woah,” a familiar voice interrupts. “You’re not usually the kind who breaks in by knocking the place down.”

Sander turns slowly on his heel to face Adi. The man (as Sander considers him, because he is actually three years older and holds genuine wisdom on occasion) is staring him down in amusement. Quite literally staring down, as he has a good few inches on Sander, but he often leans back and slouches his shoulders to make up for it. He’s only about as tall as Jens, really, but he’s broader and looks overall bigger and more intimidating.

Robbe might be tiny next to him, and Sander might find it adorable, but Robbe is also completely unfazed because of long-time exposure to Jens.

Which is only mildly disappointing. (Robbe is extra adorable when he’s both dwarfed and flustered.)

“Sorry,” Sander says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t think that there might not be anyone here. I should’ve texted you first.”

Adi just huffs and moves to open the door, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, that would’ve been easier on your hands.” His own light-brown hand is slender and quick as he unlocks the door, movements as automatically familiar as Sander’s when he’s drawing.

They don’t speak even as they make it inside. Adi traipses around quietly to turn on lights and check up on everything, weaving between trucks, and Sander moves through to the back of the room to the piece he’s been working on. He throws his bag down and immediately crouches to examine his paint cans, eyes flickering between them and his work as he debates where to pick up again. Adi joins him after a moment, but still hangs back, leaning against the wall behind Sander silently.

Sander thinks this is probably why Adi might actually be his best friend, because he has known Adi even longer than his group from the Academy and Adi understands him just as well as Lucas.

“I fucked up,” Sander says eventually, so quietly he’s unsure if Adi hears him over the spray of the can. He’s ready to repeat himself in the responding silence, but then Adi is standing at his side.

Adi tilts his head. “Not with Robbe.”

“No,” Sander agrees, and finds some relief in it. At least it isn’t Robbe.

“Another friend?”

“School.”

“Oh. Bad?”

Sander lets his hand fall to his side and sighs. Adi is calm and curious but not comforting, nothing more than a steady presence next to him. It allows Sander to reorder his thoughts into something he can actually articulate. “No, it’s not even a problem, really. I just made a mistake and it’s pissing me off.”

“But it’s not a disaster?” Adi tilts his head further.

“Probably not.” When Adi only continues to stand and look, he heaves another sigh. “I mixed up the dates for two assignments and submitted the wrong one today, meaning I missed the actual deadline for the other. But he’s just giving me that time as an extension, because apparently I’m a good student. Can you fucking believe that?”

Adi’s lips finally quirk, his amusement returning at Sander’s incredulous, exasperated exclamation. “No, I can’t, actually. But then again you’re kinda art obsessed, so maybe.”

This time Sander blows out a breath that can’t really be considered a sigh, with the farting noise that accidentally accompanies it. He wipes a hand over his mouth as if it will erase the sound while Adi barks a laugh.

“So you’re just pissed because your brain did you dirty,” Adi summarises.

Sander grimaces, but nods. “And wondering how it’s taken this long for me to fuck up like that.”

“Maybe because you’re not a fuck-up.” Adi raises a brow pointedly, but Sander simply waves him off. The sentiment is kind, but it doesn’t change the fact that he fucked up. Then Adi adds, “And anyone can get their wires crossed like that. You’re not that unique.”

It draws a snort out of Sander against his will. It doesn’t matter that he knows what Adi is really trying to say, hears the reassurance and reminder tucked within the words; the blatant dry tone it comes out in startles him enough to set it off. Adi’s forming grin doesn’t match it and makes it easier for Sander to see through him, but he’ll let him away with it this once.

He knocks his paint can against Adi’s shoulder. “Thanks.” It’s much more clearly genuine than Adi had been, and more than Sander expected himself to give, but he does feel better and he appreciates it. It doesn’t matter that ‘thanks’ is as difficult as ‘sorry’; that just means Adi will know he means it.

Sander is sure of it when Adi simply nods in response, turning to examine Sander’s artwork rather than put pressure on him to figure out his expression. He watches on as Sander gets back to work, and eventually shifts to lean back against the wall. “Things are good with Robbe, then?”

“Yeah, always.” Sander smiles, unbidden, at the simple mention. He doesn’t feel the need to be embarrassed about it, even when Adi huffs.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow,” he notes, and Sander pauses. “Any special plans?”

Sander stays still for a moment, and then shrugs, putting his arm into motion again. He hasn’t thought about it. He might have been avoiding thinking about it. “Unless it’s a surprise. I know I’ll see Robbe, but that’s it. I do that everyday.”

“You not hanging out with all of them? What about Gilles and his gang, and Lucas and whoever?”

Sander’s mouth twitches, but he quickly schools it away. “I’ll see the guys at uni and maybe Lucas if we go to the flat or I pick Robbe up at school.”

He can just see Adi in his peripheral, and catches his thoughtful nod and careful bite of the lip. “Right, right. You ever planning on bringing him here again?”

“Robbe?” Sander asks, just to be a little shit.

“Fuck, no. I love him, I do, but he’s hardly an artist. Nah, Lucas.”

Sander brings Lucas at least twice a month, and Adi knows it. “They’re all busy with school. Final year and all that.”

“Yeah, but he’s applying to the Academy right? So, technically, this is like studying.”

“Do you want to see Lucas again, Adi?” Sander asks, mustering as much mock-astonishment into his tone as he can.

He receives a scoff for his efforts. “You know it’s not like that, you fucking asshole.”

“Good, because you know, he has a boyfriend, Adi.”

“Who happens to be Robbe’s best friend and your kind-of friend, yeah, yeah, I know. I also happen to be straight, dickhead.” He cocks his head at Sander and his lips slip into a smirk. “While you also have a boyfriend, and you’re whipped as hell for him, and yet look who you still came running to to kiss your boo-boos.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Sander says this time, tossing the now-empty spray can at him. Adi dodges with a startled noise followed by his low, booming laughter, and Sander just shakes his head and marvels at his quiet mind.

~^~

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#wtfock #sobbe #sander driesen #sander season #tracing time

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rfadaydreaming · 3 years

Text

𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀; 𝘆𝗼𝗼𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝗸𝗶𝗺

a/n: if you have any of your own yoosung hcs send them in please !! id luv to see them, help me cope with my yoosung brain rot </3

• you already know from the RFA’s banter that yoosung was pretty popular back in highschool, yet it’s no secret that he’s never had a s/o before. you’re his first… well, everything. he’s a bit embarrassed sharing that in the beginning, but you assure him that it’s nothing to be shy about, it’s actually quite sweet.

• your first kiss wasn’t storybook, but yet it was perfect in its own right. the two of you were out late, gazing up at the stars. he got caught up in how they reflected in your eyes. you took notice. he shyly broke the silence after a few moments, “can... i kiss you?”

• it was messy, smiley, sweet and soft all in the same breath. his inexperience just added to the charm. it felt like him.

• texts and calls you often, not the type who’s shy about texting back the second he gets your message. he likes to send you little updates about his day, sweet messages, ask about how things are with you, things that remind him of you, something you might find cute, or even just some selfies here and there. here’s some examples of the types of messages i feel he would send his s/o throughout the day > ⭐️ ✨ 🌟 💫 ✨

• it’s no surprise seeing how affectionate he is. always holding your hand, kissing your cheek, brushing back your hair, or wrapping his arm around your waist. he adores closeness, being around you. not shy at all when it comes to pda, especially if there’s other guys around. really lays it on then.

• on the topic of other guys, yoosung has a tendency to get a little possessive. struggles with his insecurities and all that. sometimes when you play too much into zen’s antics, laugh too hard at seven’s jokes, he starts to doubt himself a bit. you’ll have to reassure him that no one will ever compare.

• brings you little gifts often whenever he thinks of you. your favorite takeout, a beautiful bouquet of flowers, cute little knickknacks that he just knows you’ll love. if you ever start to feel guilty about anything, he shuts it down as soon as soon as possible.

“yoosung… wasn’t this expensive?”

“don't worry about it, you’re worth it!” 🥺

• one of his favorite things in the universe is when he’s playing video games and you come to cuddle with him in his lap. he’s all smiles as soon as he sees you, switching between having his hand on the mouse and running his fingers through your hair, he’ll pull you into his chest and press a big kiss against your forehead. swears to you that he plays much better whenever you’re around, but inwardly you think that’s just an excuse for you to cuddle in his lap more often.

• he streams often, so you come in to bring him snacks and water, or else he has a tendency to forget.

“oh, mc is here everyone, say hi!! that’s my s/o you guys!” his audience can see right away the way he lights up whenever you walk into the room, his whole demeanor changes. definitely has youtube compilations of him getting starry eyed over you. i think it would be super similar to how mark and amy act on stream [x]

• struggles to get his work done, a big procrastinator. you definitely have to help him out here. no games until after your studies are done. if he pulls the puppy dog eyes, which he often does, you have to find ways to tempt him with a reward instead. all the kisses he wants as soon as his work is done. you don’t think you ever see him move as fast as he does then.

• steal his clothes. it’s impossible not to do it. he’ll be like “is that my hoodie?” whenever he stops by your place, “maybe…”

• he’ll start leaving his hoodies at your place purposely after awhile. he finds he really likes the way you look in them, it never fails to make his heart race.

• if you’re ever out of it, drunk, high, or just straight up don’t wanna do it, he’ll do your entire night routine for you. and he will do it to the max. takes your makeup off with expert precision until he’s sure all of its off, brings a little bowl of warm water to wash your face for you, brushes your teeth and squishes your face around playfully while he does it. puts moisturizer on your face, lotion on your body, whatever you usually do at night. not once does he complain, or seem unhappy about it. he adores taking care of you in little ways like this.

• his body temp is warm, super warm. takes his jacket off and puts it around your shoulder whenever he sees that you’re cold. it’s always cozy and soft inside when he wraps it around you.

• you help him touch up his roots, making sure there’s no spots missed. if you dye your hair too then he’s more than happy to help, gets super focused while doing it, tongue poking out and everything.

• you two fall asleep on calls together a lot. he puts his phone on top of a pillow so it feel like he’s cuddling you, sometimes when it goes silent, he’ll laugh a bit to himself.

“what is it?”

“nothing. i just really love you.”

• dates with yoosung are always fun no matter what, he has a set date night every week, so you guys go on and off between who gets to arrange them. some staples he goes for are ice skating, ramen shops, picnics, boba dates, game nights, theaters, arcades. but sometimes all he really wants is to just wants to be close to you. laying together in his dorm, a movie playing on the laptop at the end of the bed, the two of you are entangled in each other’s arms. that's his favorite type of quality time.

• absolutely loves cooking for you, especially breakfasts after you stay over at his place for the night. he’ll add a little ketchup heart to the eggs, spend extra time cutting shapes into your fruit, brings it to you on a fancy tray while you’re still cuddled up and cozy in bed. wakes you softly with a kiss and a smile before showing you his mini works of art.

• adores praise. give it all to him. praise him for getting his work done on time. praise him for eating dinner at a normal time. praise him for finding the willpower to make his bed in the mornings for once. praise him. no matter what, he’ll get all blushy and starry eyed.

• he likes to write you little notes or reminders and leave them around your place whenever he stays over. i love yous, date reminders, random little doodles and such.

• matching couples outfits!!! likes to pair his outfits with whatever you’re wearing that day, his favorite thing ever is when people notice the both of you are matching and comment on it. practically beams the second they do.

• matching jewelry too. totally has the lego heart necklace with you. if you ever get him anything, you best believe he’ll wear it all the time. sentimental at his core.

• he has rough days more often than not. mental fog, overwhelmed with school, or just things not going his way. after days like that, his favorite place to relax is safe and sound in your lap. your fingers running through his hair, maybe a movie playing in the background but neither of you are paying attention to it. if he cries or vents for a little too long, you never make him feel guilty or embarrassed about it. you assure him with kindest of words, wipe away his tears and give him soft kisses all over his face, let him fall asleep on top of your chest, humming soft melodies to him as he drifts of to sleep. it’s the little things like this that mean the world to him.

thank you for reading! posts similar to this one:

↳ ੈ‧₊˚ boyfriend jumin han hcs

↳ ੈ‧₊˚ boyfriend jihyun kim hcs

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #yoosung kim #yoosung mystic messenger #yoosung kim mysme #yoosung mysme #yoosung kim x reader #so these are posted late. Hey ... hey #last night i stayed up making earrings 😗✌🏻#but i have yoosung brain rot rn. dont text. only yoosung can <3

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

Abductions, Past and Present

AO3

...

The lab. He’s back in the lab. How did he get here, wasn’t he somewhere else?

He’s unchained, unshackled, which is also odd, they only do that for tests, not in the lab, not under the cold lights of the white sterile room.

“Remus. Remus, please, this isn’t you.” Roman. He wants to turn, wants to reassure him, wants to ask him what’s wrong, to protect him, to break him out of here, but his body doesn’t move.

“You don’t know who I am, Roman. You only like to think you do.” He has a blade in his hand, he’s speaking but his mind is screaming, he’s screaming, but his mouth just pulls up into a smirk, as he turns to the table.

It’s upright, Roman shackled to the table, arms stretched out, legs slightly splayed. He’s quivering, shallow cuts already tracing red marks across his skin, as if someone had doodled on him with a red sharpie. Remus knows intrinsically it was him.

He’s protesting every step, every move forwards, every step towards Roman, fighting, clawing for control, for anything, but he can't stop this, can only watch as his own body circles around the table, chuckling darkly.

“Remus. You’re scaring me.” Roman’s voice is tremulous, and he grins widely, slashing the knife across Roman’s throat, not deep enough to kill him, but enough beads of blood come to the surface, and Roman whimpers, flinching back as he gently caresses his cheek.

“There now, let’s make you into a work of art.” He croons, he’s screaming, he’s screaming, but the knife flashes anyway, red and silver and flesh parting and screams and gurgles and disgust and despair and madness slipping over him with every cut, every desperate plea and cry branding his soul, branding him a monster and he doesn’t understand why his body is moving, laughing, slashing, while his mind is breaking, screaming, agony.

“Why would you-“

“panicked, okay?”

“was calming down-“

“didn’t know that! Had Logan pinned by his throat!”

“kiddo. Hey. Hey, hey, hey, look at me. Can you look at me?” His head feels heavy, he’s gasping for air like a drowning man, he thinks he might be drowning, because the noise won’t get out of his head, the red won’t leave his mind’s eye, and he is drowning in the crimson red of his brother’s life blood, over and over and over, and he can’t stop it, he can’t-

“I knew it. I knew this wasn't real.” He whispers, voice breaking into a thousand shards of glass as he folds in on himself, god, he really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Kiddo? What are you talking about?” He nearly chokes on his laughter, it cuts his throat and crushes his lungs, and he only laughs harder at Feathers’ light, hesitant touch, a hand barely on his shoulder, from where he’s crumpled on the floor. He seems so kind, how did he get into this business? Or maybe that’s his job, play the part, act the savior, see how they break when they find out the truth.

“I knew it wasn’t safe, knew this was all just part of it, part of the test, part of another trial, or another game, or another punishment, I knew this wasn’t real, I knew we’d never make it out, there’s no way out, there’s never a way out, there’s nothing, there’s nothing else, and that’s fine, it’s fine, do whatever you want, do anything, everything, I don’t care, I’ll follow along, I’ll obey every request, every command, I’ll do it, I swear I’ll do it, just don’t hurt him again, just leave him alone, just let him stay here and pretend this is real and he can be happy, and he can be safe, and I’ll do everything you say forever, I don’t care, I don’t care if I can’t see him ever again, I don’t care if you tell him I died or whatever excuse you need, just let him stay here in this fantasy, just let him stay, please, please, he can’t- I can’t- I-“ The world is spinning, like the solid ground he was just walking on has turned into an endless chasm, like the sky cleared of rain only for him to be hit by a lightning bolt on a sunny day, like the rug pulled out from under him, sending him hurtling off the edge of a cliff, and he can’t breathe, why can he never breathe?

He can feel that calming, soothing power once again, but he doesn’t trust it now, they just want him complacent, and they haven’t agreed, they haven’t agreed to let Roman stay in this wonderful dream, and he will fight them every step if they don’t, he will never stop fighting if they don’t, so with effort he shrugs off the comforting lull calling to him, he jerks back, away from Feathers, away from his touch, he glares up at Logan, he thinks they called him, and the definitely not human that looks like a human, standing wide eyed behind him, his own eyes defiant and dark and full of power borne from pain.

“I will fight every step of the way. I swear on whatever god you believe in, if you don’t promise me now he can stay in this little world of pretend you’ve cooked up to fuck with our heads, I will never stop fighting against you until I’ve snapped that thin little neck of yours.” Logan looks taken aback, looks confused, and he grins, sharp and feral, because he will do it, he will do it right now, even if he has to rip off Feathers’ pretty little wings, or claw out the not human’s eyes from his skull, he will kill them all, even if it kills himself in the process, to keep what he saw from happening, to keep Roman from ever going back to that hell, to keep him here in this illusion, sheltered from reality.

“logan-“

“He will be safe. I swear it.” There is sincerity to Logan’s voice, a strange softness to his eyes, and he believes him. His breathe catches and tears stream down his face, and he didn’t know his heart could break in this particular way, but here he is, anyways.

“you’d better.” Then what little air in the room is left compresses, and he can’t breathe, and he can’t hear past the ringing in his ears.

…

Patton barely manages to catch the human as he passes out, stopping him from falling face first on the floor, relieved to see that his breathing has gone back to normal, his panic attack ended by unconsciousness, his brain shutting down to force him to breathe. Unhealthy, but necessary right now.

“Why did you say that?” He asks angrily.

“It is true. His brother will be safe, and so will he.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“And that was a flimsy excuse, Logan, and that’s coming from me.” Janus says smoothly, leaning in the doorway.

“He was hurting himself, panicking, hyperventilating. We were never going to be able to get through to him in such a state, especially after seeing… whatever he saw, when Virgil touched him. There was no point in arguing and distressing him further. It is… not ideal, and I don’t like letting him think what he’s thinking any more than you do, Patton, but he would never have believed us, right now.” Some of the anger fades from Patton as he nods, letting out a long sigh. He’s not really mad at Logan, anyway, he’s just furious at the people who did this in the first place.

“you’re right, I know, I just… I hate…”

“you hate him being so scared for no reason. I understand, Patton. I… you didn’t see, what it was like, there, but he has every reason to believe that his captors would fake a rescue like that, just to toy with him. This isn’t going to be easy. And captain overreaction over there didn’t help things.” Janus mutters the last sentence, coming to rest a hand on Patton’s shoulder, lightly rubbing his thumb in circles on the top of his wing.

“Oh, I’m sorry I freaked out when I saw a feral human pinning my friend to the wall by his neck!” Virgil replies, a bit of an echo slipping into his voice for the last few words, his normally brown eyes starting to turn black around the whites.

“Virgil. Breathe. I understand why you did what you did, even if it has possibly irreparably damaged our progress with him. you were afraid, and trying to protect me, and I… appreciate your concern.” Virgil relaxes just slightly at Logan’s words, muttering whatever and looking away, crossing his arms.

“we can’t separate them again. That will just make everything worse, if he wakes up and he’s not here anymore, he’ll think… he’ll think he was right.” Patton says smally, and Logan sighs, starting to pace.

“you’re right, on that account. However, leaving the two of them alone increases the chance that he will panic upon waking and assume that we have gone back on our ‘deal’, likely leading to some foolhardy escape attempt. On the other hand, if we have anyone in here with him, monitoring them directly, it is equally possible that individual will be attacked and injured in a similar attempt.

“I’ll stay.” Everyone turns their heads at Janus’s quiet words. “What? I know what it’s like. From both sides of the mirror. If anyone can get through to him it’s me. And Roman already recognizes me, is starting to trust me.” Slowly, Logan nods, clearly thinking.

“Perhaps you and Patton, together, so neither of you is alone, just in case. Remus seems to trust you, or at least not be afraid of you, as he is me and Virgil.” Patton nods quickly, sharing a small smile with Janus. “Excellent. We’ll keep an eye on the monitors, but I expect you’ll call if there’s any trouble. For now, I am going to go rest, and I would suggest you do the same, Virgil.”

“I’ll try.” He answers grudgingly, moving to follow Logan out the door, stopped by Janus’s hand gently grabbing his wrist.

“I need to know. It could help. What did he see, Virg?” He asks softly, knowing it is just as painful for Virgil to see what other people’s worst nightmares are as it is for them to experience it.

“It was him. Trapped in his own body. He was powerless, to stop himself, even though he was pleading, begging, it…” Virgil trails off, letting out a long breath. “It was the worst I’ve ever seen, Jan. And that should tell you all you need to know.” Virgil says, slipping out the door.

“well. Fuck.”

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grailacademy · 5 years

Photo

Welcome To Grail Academy - Chapter Nineteen: Cry Baby

“Papa, are we done yet?” A little girl with blond hair done up in pigtails with a pair of sparkly green scrunchies inquired, her arms out at 90 degree angles from her sides, standing on a little pedestal. Surrounded by a wall of mirrors and coat hangers, an old woman in a checkered smock and a pin cushion on her wrist knelt beside the girl, wrapping a yellow measuring tape around the child’s waist. Under the measuring tape was a polkadot dress, green and white with lace trim around the edge. “Patience. This dinner has to be perfect if we’re going to gain the Viridian account. No complaining.” A man stood by the curtained door to the room, rubbing his chin in his olive suit. His hair was the same as the girl’s, pulled back in an elegant ponytail. The seamstress tacked a pin into the back of the dress and made a quick series of stitches. Then she bit the thread and tied a knot, and patted the girl on the shoulder. The girl did an excited twirl in front of the mirror before she jumped off the stand and ran out of the room past her father. “Esmerelda, be careful!” He yelled at her, but once he turned around, she was already in her mother’s arms. The woman’s greying hair blended in with the black and grey ears on top of her head. The two of them giggled, and the man folded his arms. “Rose just fixed your dress, I don’t want to see any more scuffs or holes in it. Am I clear?” The little girl looked down at her shiny black shoes solemnly, nodding.

“Yes, papa.”

“Oh, Ardan, relax.” The woman turned her daughter around and stood up. “She’ll be careful!”

“That’s what she said the first time she ripped it.” He grumbled.

Esmerelda never enjoyed when her parents talked about her in the third person, like she wasn’t in the room. But she kept quiet until her father walked away towards his office in the magnificent shining mansion that the three of them called their home. When she looked up from her shoes, she was facing a dark shadow of a creature. The muzzle of the beowolf reached forward, revealing its glowing red eyes. Esmerelda folded her coat neatly and placed it on the floor of the dock. Kismet wasn’t lying when he said the beacons were guarded. Brandishing her sleek claws, she rushed into a sprint towards the beast.

Nico swam for a boey he saw bopping on the horizon. The sun was beginning to set, turning the sky a shade of orange and pink that reflected on the water of the lake that he paddled across. As he got closer, he could see that the boey was tied to a small wooden pole stuck on the side of a marshy island. The edges of it surrounded by weeds and cattails, Nico’s arm was taken hold of and he was pulled on shore. The sand stuck to the back of his clothes when he sat up, but he was relieved to see Iris had helped him on land. “Thanks!”, he chirped. The girl was still extremely on edge, but she nodded with a smile. After five minutes, the two of them had roamed around the perimeter of the island, searching for a beacon and passing the time with conversation.

“So, you and Bernard, huh?” Nico was drawing doodles in the sand with his bow staff.

“Me and….who?” Iris raised a brow at his question, she was rummaging in a bushel of fern leaves, tapping the ground in hopes that she would hit something metal.

“Bernie! You guys are dating, right? Weren’t you two going to Prom together?”

“....Bernard! Yes, he was taking me to Prom. I was really nervous to go alone, it was my first school dance.” She laughed nervously, “But we’re not….haha, we’re not a thing.”

“....Huh.” Nico smiled for a moment.

Iris’s cheeks turned pink, which was a regular occurance for her when she and Nico talked. She was easily flustered. As she stammered on about her relationship status, Nico gently tapped her shoulder. “Hey, uh….Iris?” He was trying to get her attention to turn to the three giant ursa he was staring at, a few yards away. “We got company.”

“I told you this would happen, Hollyanne!”

“It’s not my fault they didn’t want to buy! They weren’t interested, it couldn’t be helped.”

“It could be helped! The whole point of you coming to the dinner was to HELP!”

“I’m sorry!” The yelling of her parents was muffled on the other side of her bedroom door. Esmerelda didn’t like hearing them fight, she always ended up blaming herself for their altercations. Her worries temporarily subsided when her mother came into the bedroom and kissed her goodnight, but when the door closed and she was left alone with her thoughts, she was back to thinking about what she could have done wrong. Laying there in the canopy bed, she clutched her stuffed bunny rabbit close to her.

With a harsh jerk of her arm, Esmerelda dug her palms into the chin and nose of the beowolf as it lunged at her, mouth agape. Prying it’s jaws apart while it gnashed at her, she had a clear view of its sharp teeth, slimy tongue, and the back of its throat where the uvula waggled when it roared in her face. Looking down the metaphorical barrel of the gun reminded her not to space out during a fight, and she snapped into action as a few drops of spittle slicked onto her cheek. She grunted and flipped around, throwing herself under the belly of the monster. Sliding across the dock, her claws slashed deep along its stomach and it let out a pained howl. She sprung to her feet and inspected her handiwork. She had carved the beowolf from its stomach like a pig gutted for the roast, she was proud of herself. Its carcass slowly deteriorated, and Esmerelda walked back to her coat, which had dried off by now. Her victory was, however, short lived, as she saw Rowan scrambling out of the water onto the dock once she pulled the fur on. He gave her a sly smile and held his scroll up to the beacon. The technology recognized his ID before Esmerelda could stop him, and the flaps opened up to release a beam of red light into the dim sky.

“That’s cheating!” She yelled and pointed a clawed finger at him.

“No rules against letting someone else do the work for you.” Rowan smirked, and wiggled his fingers at her sarcastically. She wanted to stay and fight HIM for the searchlight, but she knew there were only so many left. Huffing, she turned and ran to search for another one.

A pained death rattle erupted from one of the creatures as Nico ripped the spikes of his bat out of its skull. Iris pressed both feet onto the belly of the other grimm, tugging with all her might to try and dislodge the giant battle axe from its neck. Her blade was stuck in there deep, it was like pulling teeth. From behind, the final Ursa bounded towards them and slammed its giant paw onto Nico’s chest, trapping him on the ground and roaring. The wind was completely knocked out of the boy, and he wheezed loudly as he tried to hold the grimm’s claws away from him. “Oof--not the face, not the face!” As he writhed around in the sand, Iris shouted from behind. “Hold on, Nico!” She pulled her weapon out of the monster’s carcass finally, and flipped the locking mechanism on its shell. All at once, a purple electric guitar with a metal side unfolded in her hands, and she plucked a string to make sure it was working. “Time to bring the noise.”

In a dramatic sweeping motion, Iris strummed all the chords on her guitar, the metal wires vibrating as she send out a wave of noise to disrupt the ursa’s senses. Even the pebbles and blades of grass shook with the force of her music. The monster whimpered and lifted its paw up to scratch at its ear, giving Nico a window to free himself. He jumped up and cracked the monster across the back with his bat when it turned in the direction of the song. The chords still echoed loudly when Iris rushed the other side and transformed her weapon into a long battle axe, slicing their prey on one of its front legs. It lowered itself halfway to the ground in an attempt to relieve the pressure on its wounds, almost bowing its head down as if it were accepting the execution. Nico looked over the ursa’s back and cheered for Iris, “Dude, that is so metal!” Iris became flushed again, and she smiled nervously. “Oh, uh. Thanks!” In unison, the two of them raised their weapons high over their heads and crushed the beast onto the ground, obliterating the cleaved corpse. After they caught their breath and recovered from the battle, Nico and Iris gave each other a small high-five. The moment their hands clapped together, the small pitter patter of rain drops hitting water sounded.

Esmerelda felt a drop of water splash on her head. As she trekked from one dock to another, she held her hand out to the sky to feel the cold wet land in her palm. The sound of rain bouncing against umbrella fabric was all she could think about.

Esmerelda and her father stood under two separate black umbrellas, Ardan reading the text on the block of stone in front of him again and again as the funeral guests dispersed. Esmerelda could only bare to look at the white lilies wrapped neatly in a bouquet on top of it. Somewhere in her mind, Esmerelda knew that if she read the words, it would mean she was really gone. Forever. “Papa….is mama happy, Wherever she is?” The little girl wrung her hands around the handle of the umbrella and looked up at her father, but he was already walking away, headed towards the black limousine parked on the pathway next to the tombstone. She felt like crying. She wanted to cry, so bad. But her eyes were dry. She tried to force the tears out, but it was as if they were frozen icicles. Turning away, she slowly followed her father into the car.

Nico waved goodbye to Iris, watching as she was lifted up into the airship once it reached the purple stream of light glowing from the beacon they had found. She waved back timidly and turned around to sit next to her partner, Rowan. The vehicle rose off the ground and chopped away. On his own, Nico strolled to the edge of the island on the dock, and narrowed his eyes. It could have been the light playing tricks on him, but it looked like there was some kind of tall structure mounted on the edge of a hilly landmass, on the other side of the lake. Looks like he would have to go for another swim.

Bernard was a bit lost, grasping at straws when he navigated the terrain of the island he had landed on. It seemed….larger than the others. Easier to lose yourself on. He knelt down and examined a set of animal tracks. Too big to be a rabbit or a dog, probably a beowolf roving for scraps. He only counted the one set of tracks, so he felt confident. He could handle one measly grimm, even in his sleep. He could hear gunshots ring out over the rain, too far away to be on the island. The other students were running into trouble of their own. Looking up into the lavender sky, he saw the handful of multicolored beacons shining their lights. The airship hovered over the lake, leisurely making its way to each checkpoint to pick up the hunters waiting at their rescue lights. He was running out of time. He started to jog through the underbrush, zipping past the half-evaporated body of an already-defeated beowolf, ducking under tree branches and hopping over roots sprouting out of the dirt.

Esmerelda was almost knocked to the ground when she lost her footing, something big and heavy colliding with her back. She opened her mouth to berade whoever it was about personal space, but she quickly closed it as she turned around to see Bernard standing there, just as disoriented as she was. The awkward silence between them hung in the air, they hadn’t talked much since their fight in the training hall. “....There aren’t many beacons left. We have to hurry”, Bernard said, apparently inviting Esmerelda to join him on the journey. It wasn’t long before they found a clearing on the island, by the open shoreline. Beau was pacing back and forth across the island, holding her scroll out in front of her and low to the ground like it was a metal detector. Vert gazed at her odd performance of determination, commenting “You know that’s not going to work, right?”

“It’s worth a shot!” She quipped back. Nico was wading in the water, hiking his knees up to get out of the lake faster. Bernard and Esmerelda entered the scene with confused looks on their faces. Were they the only ones who hadn’t found beacons yet? Esmerelda called out, “Maybe you should check in there”, and pointed towards the tall figure of the lighthouse, nestled on a hill that connected to the shore. The light was currently off, making their dark environment much more eery with their only way to see coming from the slowly setting sun. “....Ohhh….” Beau cooed, following Esmerelda’s finger to the monument. “Yeah, that makes way more sense.”

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askfemaledoctorwhooves · 6 years

Text

I won’t be able to have a post ready this week + possible October hiatus and other thoughts

Last week I was somewhat busy and only managed to give a quick modification to the script and this week I was out of any motivation or will to force myself to work on the pages. I only managed to sketch out the pages on friday without forcing myself too much. Now I still need to finish linearting, coloring, and shading, and then deal with photoshop’s shenanigans so I can add text to the pages.

So basically, it will be impossible for me to have all that done today without burning out, so I’ll have to postpone the update to next week.

Which is sad because I really wanted this post to be out as soon as I could.

I also think I might need to take October off from updating after the next update, because I really want to study to get my driving license and have time to practice driving as well, not to mention I want some a from drawing here so I can draw for fun and relax. Don’t want to reach burn out on this blog, y’know? Maybe I could do some doodle live streams, while I’m on my break but we’ll see, I’m never good with live streams.

Although I say that I’m taking a break from femmy in October, that doesn’t mean I might not work on the pages, despite the high likelihood. Plus I might do some miscellaneous stuff like actually advertising that I have commissions open, and add some things to femmy’s blog, mod blog and my art blog.

Plus I’m not gonna disappear from social media for the month (or at least try to), you can still check me out and ask me things on my modblog at @pocketyhat and also check out my twitter to see what I’m up to!

So that’s all I had to say, thank you for your patience, and thank you so much for enjoying my blog, it means a lot to me ;u;

See ya next week!

#doctor whooves #doctor who #dw #mlp:FIM #my little pony: friendship is magic #OOC #delete later

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existentialkendall-blog · 7 years

Text

Sharpie Soulmates: Part 2

Pairing: Kickthestickz Wordcount: 2.4k Rating: Light swearing

Plot: Chris visits PJ at University. Based on a prompt that whatever you write on your skin appears on your soulmate. Find the first part here

A/N: Request a fic here, gimme feedback, don’t forget to read the first one. This wasn’t suppose to turn into a thing, but at the rate it’s going I might end up writing a third

After their first meeting, PJ learns that Chris wants to be an actor. PJ tells him that he wants to make short films. They're a perfect team, the artist and his muse. While PJ was in London for an interview, Chris was in the cafe gearing himself up for an audition.

The meeting in London was a success. Despite the sweaty palms and hair secured over tattooed forehead, he'd spoken clearly, enunciated his ideas, described his plans. Which led to an increase in funding for a project of his choice. Or more than one if he budgets and uses his old friend cardboard.

On the other hand, the audition had not been a success. They'd exchanged phone numbers, so luckily Chris didn't have to write all their negative opinions on PJ's skin.

Along the lines of 'too tall, too nervous, not attractive enough'. PJ had written on his skin for that one, that Chris could not be any hotter, he was breaking the laws of physics as it was. He almost felt like Chris for the cheesiness of that. Around it he'd drawn a large swirling design with a cartoon PJ shooting heart eyes his way at the top.

Chris had replied with a 'thank you', and a 'the auditions will be so much easier now that he can't show his thigh to them'. PJ smirked, 'maybe that's where you were going wrong', and grinned harder at the 'can't be it, I have impressive thighs', because at least Chris was being positive about something.

One night, while writing a second draft of his latest short film script, the word 'Friday?' materialises on his hand. The crudely drawn dick from yesterdays Chris doodles is peeking out from underneath his shirt sleeve and the writing makes a nice addition to the body art.

While PJ still gets daily pick up lines, Chris sometimes graduates from University level cheese to Shakespearean quotes. Which are not always relevant, and usually baffling to read.

He mentally checks his schedule. Friday he has class in the morning and then nothing past midday.

Earlier that morning he'd drawn a skeleton design over Chris's hand so he avoids there, and writes a yes across his wrist in attempted calligraphy.

A short list of times promptly appears, trailing down his arm. PJ writes over the best one, and lets the excitement build. On Friday he'll see his soulmate for the second time.

____

Morning classes suck. Especially when you've made plans as soon as the class ends. Normally PJ would consider himself an enthusiastic person when it came to work, considering it's creative and that's his whole personality. But the droning hours and early morning start made concentration unbearable.

So he reverted back to his hobby.

Doodling.

By the time lunch came he'd drawn a myriad of fantasy creatures on his arm, along with other things that he couldn't remember because he'd spaced out.

Daydreaming while drawing.

He escapes University and heads straight for the train station. With the time he's making, he makes it there with a couple minutes to spare. He's preoccupied with thoughts about getting actors for his next short, the amount of cardboard he'll need, and the fact that he has a whole weekend with Chris, so he doesn't register that the train is there until there are streams of people pouring out.

PJ bites his lip and taps his foot rhythmically until a floppy haired boy bounds out of the carriage wearing a soft grey coat.

"PEEJ!" He tackles PJ with a suffocating hug and squeezes until he starts protesting.

"What?! I missed you," And fuck if that doesn't cause a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. "Well, we have been talking constantly. So I guess I only missed your face."

"Thanks Chris. Glad to know you're here for the face," Pj says dryly, but he's in agreement with Chris. He'd forgotten how pretty the other boy is.

"Did you miss me, sugar tits?" Chris grins at PJ like he's come up with the cure for any and all diseases. PJ can't help the smile that appears right back at Chris's, overpowering his face until his whole being is radiating with joy, and a nervous excitement that thrums at his bones.

"How could I not?" PJ feels the smile shift so it's growing out the side of his mouth in a sardonic way, and Chris visibly reacts with shock. And pride.

The soulmate syndrome is weird.

"What have you got planned for us today," Chris asks, while shifting his bag around his shoulders and readjusting his coat so it rests on his shoulders.

"Film, pizza, bed?"

"Emphasis on the bed part," Chris nods, eyes narrowing with humour.

"Depends how well the pizza goes."

"You put out on the first date?" Chris assumes his natural position, arm slung around PJ's shoulder and mouth dangerously close to his skin. "I can't wait, planet boy."

PJ blushes at the nickname. Telling him about his channel was possibly a mistake. But then, Chris saw all his short films and animations in a way that felt like he was looking into his soul. And that was worth the teasing nickname. Plus, he'd started drawing wobbly planets and sporadic stars instead of just dicks.

In fact, at the time being, PJ only has a red inked Jupiter on his upper thigh.

Chris still manages to draw in the most obscure places.

"Peej?" PJ's heart warms at the nickname and the hesitance that taints it.

"Chris?"

"Did you find mine?”

PJ frowns, mind coming to a standstill. Chris is on YouTube? Did he tell him?

Chris reacts to the silence with a loud, "You don't know me? Me, the famous Crabstickz?" His arms open wide to the sky, the announcement of his username is in a Japanese game show host voice.

PJ laughs and shakes his head.

"Why would you want to be called crab sticks?”

"Why would you want to be called kick the PJ?"

"I have a foot fetish."

"A public foot fetish? Can anyone get involved, or just the fans? Is it some weird reverse Stockholm syndrome thing?" Chris makes himself laugh with the last question, and almost walks into a singular sparsely leafed tree. He dodges it narrowly and brushes PJ's arm.

"What about your fetish for seafood. Do you like watching them get made, or is it the watching men eat them that thrills you."

The corner of Chris's mouth turns down as he pretends to contemplate the choices.

"I'd have to say watching women eat them is the way to go. Women make good fish stick eaters."

PJ winces in disgust at his crudeness, and then the answer Chris gave hits him.

"So... You're bi?"

"You aren't?"

"I guess so," Not that he's kissed a boy before. Hadn't really thought about them as potential dating options, never really looked at one and wanted. Be that as it may, he's not going to tell everyone he's 'Chris-sexual', whatever the fuck that's suppose to mean.

"Wait. This means. You haven't been with a guy before, have you? Does that mean I get to pop your ass cherry?"

"You can fuck off if you think I'm bottoming first."

Chris giggles. His laugh is undefined, it's brimming with childish behaviour. Maybe that's where all the joy escaped to, because PJ is getting better at reading him and he's learning that the humour is a mechanism.

"You know about positions? You can't be that much of a virgin then."

"I've seen porn," Specifically to research how fucking Chris would work. And yeah, there's no way their first time is involving him getting it in the ass.

"Well fuck me sideways. You, PJ le kicky, has seen porn? That's a criminals commodity, you're a real rule breaker. I might have to report you to the police."

They're quickly approaching his building and it'll be a while before they can be alone again. There's introductions, re-introductions, talking, making dinner.

"Hey, since we're both youtubers we could become a power couple and take over the site!"

PJ rolls his eyes and pushes Chris's arm so he turns the corner and they're walking down the street to his halls. He palms the keys and takes the lead to unlock the front door.

"We're here!"

_____

Chris is sitting on the floor, legs crossed and fingers playing with a loose black thread on his jeans, when PJ exits the bathroom. His head flicks up when the door closes and he throws the pen next to him at PJ. It hits him square in the chest and falls to the floor.

"What have you done now?" PJ sighs.

"It's a game. You have to find the x to get your prize. You better start stripping." PJ looks down at him, face devoid of emotion. Chris's lopsided grin is focussing all it's attention on him.

"The pizza will get cold," He drops down onto his single bed and takes a slice, biting the perfect pointed end off. The taste of it is drowned out by the weight of Chris's back as he relaxes against his leg that's hanging off the bed.

After wolfing down half the plate full of food, Chris yanks his jumper off so he's left in a long white sleeved shirt and a grey t-shirt over that. At this angle PJ can stare at Chris without the other boy knowing, and he takes advantage of that.

What his eyes fixate on the most is his neck. He wants to kiss him there, feel his pulse under his tongue, bite softly. Make Chris a whimpering mess from playing with his neck alone.

"Thanks by the way."

"Huh?" PJ replies, snapping back into reality.

Chris pushes away from the bed to look at PJ. "Really?"

"What?"

"Well if you don't remember, I'm not gonna tell you."

Pizza forgotten, PJ looks at Chris with pure confusion. Chris smugly finishes his last slice.

"Tell me."

Chris shakes his head, "I can't. I'd have to show you."

"Show me then."

His hand goes to his white shirt sleeve and he pretends to sexily pull up the piece of clothing, and then stops.

"Nah."

"Chris!"

He pulls the sleeve back down and leans forward so he's on his knees. "Are you gonna eat that?" He asks, reaching for the food residing next to PJ.

PJ isn't finished with the conversation, so he grabs Chris's arm. It's as if he expected it, and he pulls away. PJ tackles him and pulls up the sleeve, pinning Chris down by straddling his waist. Chris is panting softly underneath him.

Drawings. What PJ would call ghosts, creatures, sea monsters. They cover Chris's pale skin. He hasn't seen his penmanship on Chris before. He didn't expect it to be so bold, so bright.

Once he's taken in the colourful drawings, he turns Chris's arm by pulling it up and over his head so it rests back against the floor.

Chris.

Chris with two love hearts, shaded with close lines of the same pen.

The real Chris, the one underneath him, laughs suddenly, and PJ shifts on top of him.

"I can't believe you don't remember doing that!"

"Shut up!" PJ scowls at the smirking boy.

With a twist of his smile, and a dark edge to his eye, Chris murmurs, "Make me."

PJ's eyes go to Chris's mouth.

He ignores the hesitation, the nerves, the caution.

Chris's lips are soft. They part under him with shock and PJ feels heady with the rush of dark heat and warmth. Tentatively he flicks his tongue into his mouth, caressing Chris's. He moans under him with soft mewling noises and his hand tugs on PJ's hair, but not to pull him away, to push him closer.

Chris tilts his head and the position changes, getting infinitely deeper. PJ didn't mean for it to go this far this quickly. Honestly he didn't have anything in mind when the kiss started.

But Chris is gripping his arm on the right side of too tight and PJ feels arousal growing and he's glad it happened like this.

"I underestimated you," Chris breathes when they part.

PJ licks his bottom lip to reclaim the taste of Chris, conscious of Chris's eyes tracking the movement.

Chris lurches forward to kiss PJ again, but his nose collides with PJ's and they're wincing. He collapses back on the floor, hands automatically covering his face.

"Chris?" PJ leans over him, hands in fists on either side of his face.

Underneath his hands, he shakes his head once, and then removes them. His whole face is scarlet with a beautiful blush.

"You dork."

"Hey! That's my line."

PJ smiles in fondness. The next thing Chris says makes the smile fall instantly.

"Take your shirt off."

"Excuse me?"

Chris realises what he said and laughs, "No, I mean. From earlier. Take it off, you'll see."

"If I recall correctly, from earlier, you have to go first."

Chris mutters "Semantics," Under his breath before stripping. Then he's lying on the floor, arms behind his head in a mock comfy reclining position, staring up at PJ.

Under all the layers of clothing Chris is still as pale and lanky as PJ anticipated. All bones and hot skin, smooth curves and a cocky smirk.

It's funny that he thought kissing Chris for the first time would be the hard part. Like a plaster. Rip it off, take the shirt off.

Still breathing, world still turning.

Chris is staring at his chest in awe. God, he's pretty. His hazel eyes tear themselves away from his chest to his face. Look.

In the peripheral haze he can only see red. Arches of red and curling waves. "Hang on," PJ stands and goes to the bathroom mirror.

Love hearts. Small ones framing a singular large heart, framing the skin over his real heart. And in it, drawn in the same way as the rest of his chest, is a five letter word.

"CHRIS!"

"Babe?" Chris appears in the doorway, arms crossed at his chest as he leans against the doorframe.

"What the fuck?"

"You already have my name tattooed across your soul. Why not make it clear on your heart?"

PJ turns back to his reflection. How does he always end up here?

Chris moves behind him, hands sliding around his waist and pulling him back against Chris's chest.

"We should make a video. Gay chicken."

#kickthestickz #fanfiction #mywriting #crabstickz #kickthepj #crabstickztag2 #pjthekick #pj liguori #chris kendall #mein

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thisisbud · 6 years

Note

All the numbers coward

Oh goody, I was beginning to think no one was going to ask me to do any :)

1. First game you played obsessively?I think the first game I played obsessively was Pokemon Ruby. This was before I actually new anything about strategy (like 3rd/4th grade) or even how to swap out pokemon, but I remember running through the whole game with just my trusty Swampert, up until the Elite Four beat my unbalanced ass ; u ;

2. A game that has influenced you creatively? Writing, drawing, etc.I don’t draw or write much now, but I do remember really liking the boxart of LoZ: Link to the Past enough to try doodling it and a few items.

3. What did you play as a kid?As a child I was like exclusively nintendo. Pokemon Ruby and Emerald, Mario and Luigi Superstar Saga, like every single Pokemon Mystery Dungeons Game, and LoZ: A link to the past

4. Who do you play with now?Mostly League of Legends and indie games on the PC. Shooty Bois on the XBox one and a few games on the Switch

5. Ever use cheat codes?Yes because my child self is a degenerate. 6. Ever buy strategy guides?nope. Any money I had went to games, if I needed strats, I begged to use a computer.7. Any games you have multiple copies of?I have Skyrim on my ps3 and computer, and boarderlands 2 on my computer and xbox. not because I really like boarderlands, but because it was on sale for steam, and then my friends wanted to play on the xbox instead :)8. Rarest/Most expensive game in your collection?I still have my original Pokemon Emerald cartridge, and a link to the past gba cartridge9. Most regrettable purchase?oof. Probably Splatoon 2. Great game, wonderful aesthetic, but I realized I spent $60 for a game that held my interest for like a week because of my friends.10. Ever go to a midnight game release or stand in line for hours?Pokemon Omega Ruby/Alpha Sapphire release. It was just a really good time with friends and then a bunch of nerds playing pokemon together after.11. Have you ever made new friends from playing video games?Video games is like the reason I have any friends today.12. Ever get picked on for liking games?just the usual snide comment from some family members, but not like stereotypical school bullying.13. A game you’ve never played that everyone else has?Sims, Rollercoaster Tycoon, Sports games 2Kyear14. Favorite game music?Persona 3 and 5 soundtrack15. If it was a requirement to get a game related tattoo, what would you pick?probably some kind of arcana card from persona. yeah, that sounds neat.16. Favorite game to play with your friends IRL?Smash is #1, but The Jackbox games are a close second.17. Ever lose a friend over a game?ummm I think golf with your friends got close, but no.18. Would you date someone that hates gaming?I’d date @kamichamachu-iloveyou19. Favorite handheld console?nostalgia: GBA, Currently: 3DS. switch doesnt count20. Game that you know like the back of your hand?Modern Warfare 3 but like exclusively multiplayer21. Game that you didn’t like or understand as a kid but love now?League of legends technically.22. Do you wear game related clothing/accessories?I have pokemon pajama pants and a really nice D.VA backpack that one of my bestest friends got me @the-giant-made-of-stone but that’s it.23. The game that you’ve logged the most hours into?either COD Modern Warfare 3, or Black ops 2. Hit master prestige in both of them.24. First Pokemon game?either red or blue, but I was too young to play them or even remember.25. Were you ever an arcade game player?I went hard in peterpiper, but these days I’m a tiny bit smarter with my money26. Ever form any gaming rivalries?well more like salt driven blind rage from smash, but that only lasts like an hour or two27. Game that makes you rage?League of Legends.28. Ever play in a tournament?I played in like one smash tournament and got bm’d so I stopped going.29. What is your gaming set up?I have a dual monitor pc setup, but one of the monitors is bigger than the other, so it also doubles as the screen I use for my xbox, switch, and ps430. How many consoles do you own? 5 if you include the 2ds31. Does the 3DS and/or Virtual Boy hurt your eyes or give you headaches?never played the Virtual boy, and I’ve never used the 3D setting long enough for it to do anything weird.32. Did you ever play a game based on your favorite show/cartoon/movie/comic?when I was a smol babby, I had Power Rangers Light Speed Rescue for the nintendo 64.33. Did you ever have any bootleg games or plug-n-play games?when I was in middle school, a family friend hooked us up with a fancy ds cartridge that had a slot for a microSD card that we could put roms onto. it was lit. I also had a lot of plug and plays as a bby34. Do either of your parents play video games?my dad has a playstation something, but idk what he plays35. Ever work in a game store? Or do you have a favorite game shop?I want to work at gamestop, but they hate me or something. Gamestop is also my favorite game shop because it’s the only one that still exists.36. Have you ever shed actual blood, sweat or tears over a game?sweat and tears sure, I think I picked at a scab while playing a game, so technically blood too I guess.37. Have you played E.T. for the Atari 2600? Do you think that’s the worst game ever, or do you have another nomination?I’ve seen those articles, never played it.38. A game you’re ashamed to admit that you like?like the entirety of my H-Game collection.39. A sequel that you would die for them to make?eh don’t really have any, if they remaster modern warfare 2 and 3, that would be pretty neat.40. What to you think of virtual reality headsets or motion controls?sounds like fun, but I don’t think I’d ever buy any until I have my own place and a lot more room.41. A genre that you just can’t get into?sports games that involve real sports teams (not including tennis)42. Maybe it wasn’t your first game, but what was the game that started you on your path to nerdiness?Pokemon Mystery dungeons series was like the first games that actually made me feel anything emotionally.43. Ever play games when you really should have been concentrating on something else?When I was still in school that’s pretty much all I did.44. Arcade machine that has consumed the most of your quarters?that one that’s like a half a bubble and the inner rim is a ring of light bulbs, and you have to hit the button on jackpot otherwise you get however many tickets is on the number you stop at. You feel?45. How are you at Mario Kart?I’m decent. definitely not the best.46. Do you like relaxing games like Animal Crossing or Harvest Moon?I need to be in the mood for it. I played like 30 hours of stardew valley but now that game makes me sleepy.47. Do you like competitive games?love em, unfortunately.48. How long does it take your to customize your player character?not crazy long. I just try to make the cutest girl possible, but really I just want to start playing.49. In games where you can pick your class, do you always tend to go for the same type of character?I lean pretty heavily towards the stealthy classes. with the stereotypical paladin/fighter as a secondary50. If you were a game designer, what masterpiece would you create?bitch if I had enough creativity to think of a gaming masterpiece on the spot, I’d be writing or something.51. Have you ever played a game for so long that you forgot to eat or sleep?League of Legends.52. A game that you begged your parents for as a kid?Pokemon Platinum. It was really good.53. What’s your opinion on DLC these days?I don’t care for it. If it’s a game I like, I might drop a bit (every month) on microtransactions, but as for solo games, they need to be really really good for me to spend another $20 on it.54. Do you give in to Steam sales?oh god yeah unfortunately. Speaking of which… the stream summer sale is up right now…55. Did you ever make someone you hated in the Sims and did mean stuff to them?never played the sims, and I’m glad to say I’m not that petty.56. Did you ever play Roller Coaster Tycoon and kill off your guests?never played Roller Coaster Tycoon57. Did you ever play a game to 100% or get all of the achievements?only once, and it was Legend of Zelda: Link Between Worlds.58. If you can only play 3 games for the rest of your life, which ones do you pick?League of Legends. and that’s like it. I can’t think of any other game that will hold it’s value for the rest of my life.59. Do you play any cell phone games?I played a lot, and honestly had a problem, but now it’s kind of like a rotating roster for me. Used to be those Gacha pay to win RPG’s now I have basic games to play on my breaks at work because I get no signal in the break room.60. Do you know the Konami Code?up up down down left right left right b a start cha cha real smooth two hops two hops - - two hops two hops - - hands on your knees hands on your knees61. Do you trade in your games or keep them forever?my games are constantly rotating. When I stop feeling it for a game, and it still has value over $15 it goes towards a new game.62. Ever buy a console specifically to play one game?Technically I got the switch just for breath of the wild, but I am enjoying the other titles coming out for it.63. Ever go to a gaming convention or tournament? I went to a tournament and got bm’d so I never went back.64. Ever make a TV or monitor purchase based on what would be best for gaming?no but I kind of want to one day.65. Ever have a Game Genie, Game Shark or Action Replay? Did it ever mess up your game’s save file?I had an action replay because I wanted to cheat in pokemon pearl, and it let me for a bit, but I kept accidentally erasing all the data on the action replay itself, so yeah.66. Did you ever have have an old Nokia with Snake on it?I actually did. When one of my old flip phones broke, I needed a cheap replacement.67. Do you have a happy gaming-related childhood memory you want to share?for this question, we’re gonna pretend “childhood” encompasses freshman year of college. I remember telling my best friends about a smash tournament that was going on while I was away, and that I would be back for the last half of it. They were telling me about how well they were doing on the way back and I got more and more hyped. Then when I got there for the grand finals, I asked the guy that everyone considered to be the best player there to play some casuals with me. and I absolutely obliterated him. I could go more into detail but yeah, that’s like my most memorable gaming moment.68. Ever save up a ton of tickets in an arcade to get something cool?god no, I really wish I learned to be that frugal, but anytime I went to a place with tickets, those tickets would be gone literally the same night, no matter how cheap the prises were.69. In your opinion, best game ever made? I think my personal favorite is Pokemon mystery dungeons: Explorers of Sky. story line, gameplay, music, everything about it made me so happy.70. Very first game you ever beat?I think it was pokemon ruby, but honestly, I’m not super sure.

#video games #ask #the-giant-made-of-stone

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didthebcsticould-blog · 7 years

Text

thirty days of questions;; cassie lang

five;;

what would your character give their life for?

“i’ve got him!”

cassie raced forwards, quickly proving she’d be an amazing alice in wonderland if ever given the chance. she grew as tall as a house, reaching out with both hands to catch her fallen team-mate. grinning down at eli, she remarked, “need a hand?” she was quick to lower him to the ground, the doom-bots (or cheap knock off doom-bots, since the man himself dr doom didn’t seem to be behind the attack) continued to fire at them.

with eli on the ground, cass charged forwards. her hand pulled back, then snapped forwards with the strength her newfound size gave her. the sweeping punch knocked a couple of bots from the air. bam, two more robot dudes out of commission. but there were still plenty more. cassie was tired, and a little sore. those robots could pack a punch when they wanted to. but there was no way she was going to give up. the fight was proving tougher than expected, but cassie didn’t have it in her to just let go or leave. she would fight for what she believed in - and she believed in her friends. they could do this. and if not?

cassie would find a way to finish it. she wasn’t all that selfless a person, she didn’t think. and she kinda thought movies with heroes that sacrificed themselves to be stupid. but she knew that if one of her friends were in danger just now she’d rush right in to take the blow. ( and fuck, if it was her dad she would be even more reckless). these people were her family, and for them she would do whatever it took.

in a way, she had already given her life for them, she thought - idly tearing apart one of the doombots at giant size, before making her way to kate. she’d given up a NORMAL LIFE to come and do this. her mother and step-father would never get over her being a hero and following her daddy’s footsteps. they loathed superheroes, though at least they had accepted cassie wouldn’t change her mind about this. “you ready?” she sent kate a grin as she began to rapidly shrink, quickly becoming a small dot at the tip of one of kate’s arrows. one arrow, sure to hit it’s mark, would get cassie inside the head honcho robot. they would end this quickly, and show the young avengers meant business.

six;;

what is your character’s greatest asset?

“i don’t think i’m that kind. and i’m not a genius or anything. not like uncle tony, or not like my dad with his electrical engineering skills. i’m no strategist either - not like eli or kate. i’m just me.”

cassie sank back on the grass, watching america stand before her for a second before sitting down by her side soon after. cassie wasn’t one to self-reflect and get all moody about her faults. she was the type that just accepted things, and moved on - or tried harder next time. what she was saying now wasn’t an attempt to garner any pity (she wasn’t sure america would give that, anyways). it was just a few statements she felt were obvious and nothing wrong with that.

“i’m like...” she paused, lying back on the ground and looking up at the sky. she kinda had to squint though, the sun hitting her full on and damn those sun rays were a bitch. but the problem didn’t last long as a pair of sunglasses magically seemed to float before her, then get placed over her eyes. she tilted her head a little, and grinned brightly at her sunglasses benefactor - america chavez. how such awesomeness could be contained in one person, cassie would never know. “thanks!”

she tilted her head to the sky again, trying to regather her train of thought. “i’m like... i don’t know. i’m just ME. i’m pretty good at being direct. i tell it like it is, but i don’t always get what it is. i like to think i’m kind, which is a nice quality. my mum, she says i’m stubborn. i think i’m determined. yeah, determined, that’s a better word. when i put my mind to something, i do it. guess i’m kinda sneaky as well, but maybe it would sound better if i said-- if we called it--”

“taking the initiative?” america remarked, a smirk on her features. and cassie nodded, grinning in reply.

“exactly! taking the initiative! like when i, uh, stole the pym particles and stuff. planning ahead. or not really. i’m not leader material, but i don’t have to be.” she wasn’t the young avengers leader, but maybe cass was part of the glue that held them altogether. “we all bring things to the table. like you with your ability to kick the ass of anyone and be supremely awesome.”

seven;;

what would completely break your character?

cassie sat cross-legged on the chair, watching tony work. or try to work. she didn’t think his heart was in it, even if this was some kind of super-important device. his mind was wandering, she thought - which was rare. maybe her uncle tony couldn’t focus on a lot of things, but it was like his mind was created in a way that let him be so observant and creative and focused when it came to this type of engineering. it was stream-lined. but today he seemed distracted. as was she.

“tony?” she put out his name as a question, spinning a little in the swivel chair. she asked his name, just in case she was wrong and he was super focused. he’d maybe not hear her if he was paying too much attention to his machines, some times she’d had to call out his name several times before getting a reply. but today, only the once was needed.

but now she had his attention she didn’t know what to say. and for a second, she almost burst into tears. cassie managed to keep that inside, but though tears didn’t fall tony surely recognised something was wrong because he was putting down that tiny minuscule wrench that almost looked like a spear she could carry in her ant-size. “i’m fine, i’m fine,” cass was quick to say, but she didn’t sound it. and she wasn’t. why lie to him?

“it’s just-- my dad, he got caught-- he got caught in one of the fights with the syndicate.” and surely tony knew that already. scott wasn’t DEAD (god forbid) but the thought he might have been had scared her so much she hadn’t slept. he’d been injured, but luckily by this point he knew a good doctor. he’d be just FINE, but in cassie’s mind she kept seeing and thinking of ways in which he wouldn’t be. what would happen if he was gone? he had been missing before, and she’d thought him dead - him getting chucked in jail, or going on ant-man missions. he’d always returned safe and sound.

but the other day when she’d turned up at his house, she realised he wasn’t safe. and he was hurt and every time before he had just waited to see her when he was fit and well so she would stop worrying so much.

her arms wrapped around tony tightly in a hug, and though tears still didn’t fall they were building up. “it was so SCARY. i thought-- when i saw the news i recognised that’s where he’d been going. we’d met up, and he was headed out that way. he’d heard something. and when i saw him-- he looked so small. i mean, well, you know what i mean - not small like he’d shrunk. and badly hurt.” she was maybe in her twenties now, but always daddy’s little girl. and cassie could cope with getting hurt herself, and she was perfectly fine in a fit for she had confidence in herself. but she had no defences against her family being hurt. he wasn’t dead, and that was so wonderfully relieving. but cass was becoming more and more aware of the dangers of their situation with each passing day.

eight;;

how does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they actually project?

cassie listened to her study-buddies talk, but only partly listened. mostly she just doodled on her notebook, and thought. a slight grin was on her face as she finished her picture - there was little ant-thony. now to add some small ant friends. but--

“you’re like a little kid, lang,” one of her friends teased, taking the book. “and always with the ants.”

“ants are fascinating,” cass remarked, flashing them a smile and tilting back to retrieve her book. the chair itself tilted, leaning back on two legs-- and of course the librarian had to catch her doing that. and fuck, there she went giving her a lecture. it was just a short one, telling her not to be so childish. always with the acting like a kid thing. was that what everyone thought?

she took her book back, making a face at her friend before silently laughing with her and doing impressions of the librarian - miming things, mostly. no need to bring the old bag back because they’d made a happy kind of sound.

ah, maybe she was childish. that wasn’t EXACTLY what she was going for. she didn’t want her team-mates to think her a little kid anymore, and she didn’t want her parents to think that either. she was truly capable of all of this. of being a student, of being a hero, of being an adult now. she often tried to sound smart, and sometimes it worked. but like her father she had bad sense of timing and too often joked or asked a stupid question at the wrong time.

maybe it wasn’t bad to be seen as a little childish though. cassie liked having some freedom, and in times like this surely it was good to have some fun? to just relax? cass knew how to let go of some of her worries (some of the time) just to play around and get her strength back. so what if people thought her a kid? she knew what she was really capable of. STATURE didn’t let anyone bring her down.

nine;;

what is your character afraid of?

“i’m not five any more dad, i don’t need a night light,” she said, rolling her eyes as she she shrank and entered the tiny little plastic room. at her dads place they’d spent so many hours building a tiny, miniature world that really only the two of them could fully appreciate. they’d found every day things and mucked about to get a new way of using them. such as this tiny electric light - shaped like a tea candle.

“i’m not afraid of the dark, i don’t need the light on,” she said, punching her dad’s arm playfully. admittedly, the light was rather pretty. it flickered like a real candle would, and if she was being honest she did prefer light to darkness. especially after watching a horror film. was it weird that in a fight with a tonne of bloodshed and shouts she was fine, but stupid jump-scare movies could freak her out so much?

at any rate, no, she really wasn’t afraid of the dark. not anymore. there were other things to fear. she glanced over at her dad, who caught her looking his way. she pulled a funny face, and laughed when he made one in turn, before cass moved into her mini room to relax whilst her dad went and foraged for whatever food he actually had in the house. she watched him leave, and yeah... she knew what she feared. so cliche, so true. losing him. losing any of her family. that would be devastating, it would break her and it was a terrifying thought.

she was also scared of failing her exams and getting lectured by her mum and step-father as well. you know, normal fears. but since her best friends and her father and a few other family members were heroes it was natural to fear them getting hurt. (or deader than just hurt). cassie supposed being KIDNAPPED was also a fear. that had happened to her growing up as well. came with having a heroic dad, and knowing a few heroes. she was just leverage to some heroes - but nah, she wasn’t scared of that any more. that could be pushed away. cass could save herself now. ( and she could totally push away the fear of dying cause her stupid heart didn’t work cause her dad had fixed that ).

it was okay to be afraid though. in a fight her fear for her friends or father or uncle or whoever made her fight harder. she could use that fear to become stronger and quicker. it was okay to be afraid of losing people or failing things or disappointing her parents... just so long as those fears didn’t take over.

cass sank back in her bed, then immediately got up as her father called out to her. sounding excited. maybe he’d found that chinese take-away menu he’d been trying to find for like an age. a grin on her features, she rushed out their mini world, growing to rejoin the rest of the world at normal height.

#rebuildtask4

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