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blankdblank · 3 years

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Brother Dearest Pt 67

English Composition broke off the animated chatter of the latest slew of papers that mentioned the President’s words and then delved to new directions while you settled into the new desk off the side of the front row without an attached desk. A few days back in the former week the evident inch to the side you made to avoid squishing your belly with the L shaped attached desk that brought out one of the desks set aside for the occasional expecting mothers to begin the start of the difference of your place in classes. Beginnings of more changes that were to come while eyes could now gauge just how long you might have left and every loop of your arms around the protruding belly that occasionally you amusingly rested things on top of to find comfortable positions or angles to work with as much ease as possible.

Trig and Calculus held more room in their desks for the men usually in use of them. The latest stories on new discoveries from the new large telescopes were brought out for Astronomy and books were consulted to enforce what facts and details were necessary to understand the news fully. A sudden glance to the clock on the wall by one student when the class felt a bit long had you all scramble for gathering your things to free seats for the incoming students while you made for the next class. The empty seat for you seemed to put a lock on your Sociology class that all looked your way when you came in a few minutes late. One hushed apology and an explanation and in relief the Professor began the lesson when you took your seat after a chuckle at the distraction from the latest news from space.

Hot and humid random bouts of breezes from open windows and turning fans to the final class after having spent a good part of the last class with a spare bit of folded paper in hand to keep cool. Quick and sharp mid paragraph on an argument to answer the prompt given a shriek left your lips at the feathery body that collapsed onto your desk. Over your lips to the shiver of feathers and fix of wings your hand settled for a wide eyed stare at the now upright Barred Owl that sat atop your desk that blinked at you to the open of the classroom door revealing the twins who wide eyed found you and the reason for your shriek that called them there.

The soft squeak heard in the silent room had its head turn and named the reason why it had flown in, a small mouse was snatched up and carried back out the open window. Quietly the twins eased back out of the classroom while your Professor came over to help pick up your things that had been scattered to the floor uncertain of what to say other than to remind of how much longer he was to give the class to finish filling out the sheet. To a pat of your free hand on your belly you got back to the assignment that afterwards two people were chosen to share their answers with the rest of the lesson to follow. Another note however once class was called found you on the way back to the fake courtroom again where you flashed a grin to the students gathered there.

The TA came over at the side of the lead Professor who grinned and greeted you, “Welcome, welcome. Heard you had a mishap with an owl.”

“Oh, ya, flew in a window to chase a mouse and landed on my desk. No harm done. These cases better than the last two?”

The Ta said, “Well, Divorce Hearing and an Art Heist Trial. Hard to have as many difficulties as before, these two Lawyers do try to make difficult cases with new plot lines compared to the first two.”

You nodded and glanced to the preteen near to one of the students who was accepting a packet of his own and asked, “That kid is part of the cases too?”

The Professor nodded, “Yes, Billy’s brother to stand in as his son for the case. Usually hangs around after his class gets out so they can head home together and in a couple weeks will be out of class and have plenty of time to come and help with the Divorce Hearing if we did need a testimony from the child involved.”

“How is there the same amount of evidence for these cases as the first two? I take it there’s one for the divorce and the rest are for the heist?”

“Half and half actually,” that had you huff.

“Let me guess, I get to read another diary of the loosest men and women legally tethered together.”

The TA as you accepted the clipboard to sign the form to accept the file boxes now loaded onto a dolly by him smirked saying, “I wish we had more to offer case wise than attacks on character and morals. You must be exhausted of it after having to read the first set of evidence.”

In passing back the clipboard to the 2nd Professor who approached you replied, “We can barely go a mass without hearing the word whore, I’m not exhausted the word has lost its sting and I’m just disappointed honestly at the lack of imagination. I know children who can reduce grown men to tears if they need help on that front they could even consult Officer Browen’s boy, he could blow these cases out of the water for what they could be.”

Making the men chuckle and grin to the TA who said, “True, very true. Hopefully next year we could add in a line of teens to run these cases by. You know I can’t remember going through a week of high school without crying.” He said playfully on your joint step to the door and he asked, “You?”

“Well, I was an orphan in a Catholic School, practically disowned and I can’t remember speaking without my voice cracking until I got into the school in Canada that got us girls enrolled in Nursing courses to help the efforts.”

“They really got you in high school?” He paused and said, “I know you’re young, but how young were you?”

“Fifteen, for the Nursing courses, then um, I was sixteen when me and Eddie got sent to that base hospital. I’m 22 now, got my GED a couple years after I’d have graduated high school. So my odd timeline is a bit jumbled compared to normal education markers.”

“Wow, 22, and that’s with a Bachelor’s Degree of Medicine?”

“Science, but, same horse different hat.”

“And with babies on the way in the middle of more degree hunting. And I thought my working nights while at school was rough.”

“My dad worked in a factory to fund his try for a degree here and to save money for my schooling and my other brother Steve’s. Neither of them got to their degree but I am determined to get to the finish line.”

“Well save for more owl attacks you should get there in no time,” he joked and you chuckled to yourself and slowly took the few steps between wings he eased the dolly down the steps. Excited chatter picked up to the soft sway of the fan in your hand to try and bring up any details that could let on how much fun or how long these two cases might last.

James outside of the car smiled in opening the trunk for him and helped to load up the six cases then watched the TA hurry back while you lowered into the car to sit down out of the sun. Behind you the boxes were levitated to the library where you settled the Art Heist Evidence that your family gladly listened to the case that had one twin out of a pair that could both likely be culpable for the crime. And yet the one on trial had a sound seeming alibi merely for the hint that the lead in charge of the investigation had a grudge with him. The twin spurned his daughter years prior and contrasting the ridiculous crime itself.

With little proof they arrested him for the robbery on Mr Barnham’s mansion, one of several he owns, while he threw a costume party at another. Several priceless gold statues along with gem accented decorations were taken along with a solid ruby/ivory/ebony piano and a variety of black market paintings and marbles. Almost all of the black market pieces were returned to the museums and exhibits they were stolen from. The gem based goods are still missing. All the portraits and statues were replaced by ones modeled around cats.

Every testimony was read through before you closed the box after finishing on the alibi for the twin on trial that had you hope they pulled that up quick to have you throw the case out. Although for your luck you knew they would want to stretch it out to use as much of the information given as possible.

Emil Schmidt – Age 32, Job – Advertising, Parents well off, Met in high school. Has had several affairs then he filed for separation. Already in new relationship with latest mistress who is a co-worker. That was the Husband in the mix before you delved into the Wife and child.

Wife – Sylvia Schmidt – Age 31. Daughter of a painter, painter herself, mother is a concert pianist. Tried to file for separation before then she found out she was pregnant and had to stay with him for son’s sake. Their nine year old son was in several clubs with great grades.

The witnesses for the Husband sprawled out from bad to worse and almost had you in a fight against tears for what these pretend people were saying about this nonexistent woman. Friend who tries to say wife could be a better mom and wasn’t a good wife. Former Boss of hers in gallery to say she couldn’t keep up with employment to hint she would be unable to provide for son. A shrink he had consulted about her who hasn’t seen or spoken to her who diagnosed her as unstable. Assistant who says she demands gifts and is bad with and is after money.

Fully contrasting her witnesses that weren’t as venomous against him as his had been at her. Ex Mistress, bad breakup with hubby for younger woman, not the only one. Former Driver who says husband drinks heavily and has seen him degrade her over the years. Current Mistress of the Hubby. Tutor for son who says he’s been to both places and seen conditions son has to study in. Mom helps him but dad’s has more space for him to spread out his work.

Assets came next with little mention of anything concrete for the future of the family that furrowed your brows and had Eddie ask, “Problem with the case?”

“He has no will, no investments, doesn’t even own the house they’re fighting over,” you flipped the page, “Or the car.”

James rumbled, “That’s a terrible plan. Nine year old, what happens if he kicks it?”

Victor, “Even for the new Wife, no matter how young she is, I take it she’s younger than the current Mrs Schmidt?”

“Eleven years younger.” That had the brothers chortle and you said, “And eleven years older than their son.”

Eddie, “Now that’s shameful. One for the Mrs and two above all for the kid.” He pointed to James, “I mean you’re 117 years older than Bunny but even if there was an adult kid involved her and them wouldn’t be almost on even scales maturity wise. 9 is a short skip to teens when feelings and hormones start to rage and that Mistress just out of her teens relates more to the kid than the dad who grew up pre-Depression while she grew up after. I mean he’s old enough to have been drafted with a kid left behind and the Mistress was still in school probably running bond raises.”

Unable to help it you giggled and in Eddie’s rise to go help Teddy lift his bucket of colors that got stuck you caught James’ eye and made him ask you, “What’s funny?”

“What was your fake birth year again?”

That had him chuckle and Victor said, “You’re still half his age with the fake numbers. Bumped our years up a century.”

Norma giggled and leaned in to press a kiss to her husband’s cheek, “And you look phenomenal for your age.”

“Oh, Jeanie, I have that screenplay, or the first half of it, if you’ll check what I have for it?” She nodded and when you were helped up she joined you in the living room where you left your bag to offer her the notebook you had been writing the new draft inside to be typed up later on when it was finished properly up to par. Onto the chairs you settled and in her move to your side with use of a red pen you made note of the changes she mentioned on the pages for small things that could be expanded upon later in the new draft you would have completed by the days off.

Two more Photography Clubs and a meet up of the Paper came between you and your free Friday evening that had you with a second notebook to hold the draft for now the whole screenplay that you made note could possibly stretch the film to three hours if they cut nothing out. At your side with equally as furrowed brows Eddie typed up the second half of the screenplay while you typed up the first half on matching typewriters to get the task completed quicker. And by the time you were on the final page the doorbell sounded and with news of more casting news Stark came in and boasted to you all before with a smile he took hold of the first chunk of the screenplay he chose a chair to dig in to the more detailed layout.

“Bunny this is brilliant,” he said while Eddie took the final page he shook and laid on top of the upside down stack he stood to ease underneath your stack you added your own final page to moments prior to complete the hefty screenplay.

“I thought it might be a bit too thick actually.”

“No,” he said, “I love the extra bits, any that you’ve added. And it gives us some cushion for later to work with.”

“Well I think that’s all of it, so you won’t be held up by it.”

“I am not held up. But I can get this to the printer today and by tomorrow for the new copies of scripts to hand out. I’ll make sure you get a couple copies yourself on top of Norma’s.”

“Okay, hopefully I didn’t miss a typo in there.”

Eddie smirked and said, “There’s an x’ed out R in mine.”

Howard chuckled and said, “Doesn’t matter, the printer will skip that.”

“If anything I think Jeanie will have it memorized by the time you are filming, she’s given the drafts a few reads and given me some notes on how to fix it up.”

Jarvis beside him asked, “How do you plan to spend your day off?”

“Well Ambrose and her Husband are expecting us at the birthing class tonight. There’s only four moms in town due soon and the Nuns like even numbers, so even though they know the ins and outs they’re up for support.”

Howard said, “Didn’t you help with the three munchkins around here?”

“Ya, but still, it’s sort of expected and since I see another Doctor and not the Maternity Home here weekly they still invited me to participate in their classes. I mean three babies at once, could use all the tips I can get. And I think it’d be worth the giggle to have James mothering a doll. Him and Vic melt just tucking in Teddy’s bear in with him at nap time.”

Howard chuckled and said, “Well I hope it helps. Heard they even have meditation now for moms.”

“Just hope they don’t try to get me to lay down on the floor like they did with Gina in her last baby, I need a nest to lay down on my side and on my back is out of the question.”

Lunch was next in the absence of your guests and afterwards signaled Gina and her Husband’s arrival to escort you and James through town to the same Maternity Home where you saw the elated Nurses and Nuns there in the clinic you passed through. Beyond the mothers not so far along and those who had already given birth you felt eyes on your wide belly that was visible in the dips of your dark grey overall shorts that rested over the peach polka dot coated sleeveless blouse. Right beside you with hand on your back James strolled with a grin on his face for this next step that would hopefully help to warm you up to the change coming. Nervous slightly himself to see what the lessons were on since the last time he was expecting a child there were no prenatal classes to be had. As if Eddie and Victor’s sharing of classes had simply been wiped from his mind now that you were here. And the sight of Dr Roan who smiled widely had you smile back on the way to the side room where a quartet of mats were laid out on the floor.

“Ambrose, and Bunny,” the glasses wearing nurse with a Scottish accent said with a smile and said, “You two can get ready to settle onto your mats with daddy behind you.”

With a small grin you hushedly spoke with Ambrose and James to choose between the final two open mats where James lowered with hold of your hips to help you down to your knees. Gently to your right side you lowered to your hip after releasing the hands of the most experienced Nun who came to check on you herself after not having seen you since Teddy’s rough birth. “There you are Bunny.” Her smile spread to the sight of your tucking your legs underneath you in a slight lean forward that aided in James’ gentle stroke of your back as he settled his legs on either side of yours. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, made sure to eat first so the girls are in a good mood.”

“That is very good,” she said and moved to check on the other mothers making sure to recall to check on you later when the class was over.

The second soft speaking Nun who to the record that the Nurse with glasses turned on to set a calming mood for the beginnings of recommendations on positions, “And if you can stretch out your legs and lean back into Daddy’s chest.”

Her eyes landed on you that had you giggle and say, “I can’t stretch my legs straight out or my feet go numb when I’m upright.”

And softly she chuckled, “Best we don’t have that. Cross legged is just fine, and will help to stretch your pelvis and thighs for your babies.” Moving to stroll around the other couples while you smiled at Ambrose in her relax into her husband’s chest as James eased you back into his to take your weight and let you relax.

Talks and a few sparse jokes mingled through the guided show on breathing and close eyed guided meditation to help relax through birth until the talks of how baby shifts that a fellow young mom to be in the back was being guided through this by her mom. “This is where your down bellows sneeze on you.”

That had you giggle along with James to the Nun saying, “The mucus plug is next to arrive on you, yes.”

That had Ambrose look your way and she giggled to your point her way as you said, “I remember for your second you let out this shriek in the toilets at the market, frightened that girl Bridget to almost wet herself thinking someone had broken in.”

James hummed, “Must have been a fun story to share with you,” to her Husband who smiled and shook his head.

You giggled again as Ambrose said, “Only thing more terrifying to him than a baby coming out was knowing there’s more to it than that.”

The Nun chuckled and guided you through the next set of steps and got into a few positions to help labor along until she asked each of you how you planned to have the babies you were carrying. Ending with you of course that had you giggle and say, “Bit hard to plan mine. My Doctor has been talking about either a push birth or a possible c-section. Planning for both I suppose.”

“Are you frightened about that?”

With a shrug you said, “They’re going to have to come out one way or another. And I seem to be following the plan superbly, and that’s a quote from my Doctor who would know the best way to go after having helped my mom have me.”

The other two mothers in more in depth conversations delved into that with the arrived Nurses from the now closed clinic with Dr Roan in their group who came to lower at your side and sit on the ground with a kind smile. “We are all glad to see you here today. Are you in the third trimester mark already?”

With a nod you answered, “28 weeks tomorrow, so just on the cusp of it.”

“And your next appointment is?”

“Tomorrow,” you said and to the shift of your belly his smile widened and you said, “They love to kick and wrestle around.”

“May I?” he asked in a lift of his hands and you nodded and guided his hands to rest a palm on each baby and the third the Nun felt.

“There’s a butt here, and this one’s a head, and a back here. At least for now until they swim around on me.”

The Nun asked, “Is your tummy always this stiff?”

“Only a few hours after I eat, then I get these weird gurgling noises and it all relaxes. My Doctor said it’s just my system adjusting to the new weight and moving gasses.”

That had her grin ease out as he said, “Well you seem to be growing very well with little signs of discomfort.”

A tape measure was produced with impressed grins at the size and shared presumed weight of four and a half pounds each so far by what you had gained taken as guesses by your Doctor. All promising of good signs you could make it to the final few weeks if possible. And all seemed to be in high spirits when your sister and brother in law led you and James back home to relax again and share about the first class.

Eisenhower broke the silence of the upright courtroom, “Good Afternoon, be seated.”

He sat next in the ripple of replied, “Good Afternoon, Your Honor.” and eyed the crowd who took their seats again to the approach of Officer McTavish who passed you a sheet of paper for the open file on the desk after he read, “Good Afternoon Judge. This is case number #. The State of New York vs Lewis Patzer.”

“Thank you Officer McTavish.” Your eyes shifted over the eager students in their assigned seats on Council and the trio on trial who simply were waiting for you to ask, “Are all parties and Council present?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” both sides stated and then the Prosecution stood for the one in the paler suit to speak, “District Attorney Antonio Speltzer for the Prosecution and this is Thomas Wnters for Assistant District Attorney.”

They sat down and while the judges took note of the progress to far or procedure being followed the Defense got their turn to stand to name their three male pretend client on his feet beside him, “Vernon Dorman, Your Honor, on behalf of Lewis Patzer.”

You asked when they sat down to the General’s own check mark on his procedure notes at your right, “Are all parties ready to continue?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the four Lawyers stated and from your notes you eyed the charges to be read off for each.

“Lewis Patzer,” you said and the student for her and for Vernon Dorman stood for the read of charges, “You are charged with Robbery and Possession of Stolen Goods, how do you plead?”

To the charges Stark’s mouth quirked up into a grin just barely in shock for what sort of trial this was and he heard his lawyer state, “Not Guilty, Your Honor.”

You nodded and made your own note of that on your notepad and stated, “The Court is ready to hear recommendations on bail now.”

For that the DA Antonio Speltzer stood and with notes in hand stated, “Your Honor the State recommends bail be withheld on each of the Defendants. Mr Peltzer is in possession of ample funds from this crime and is able to fund an escape out of the country.”

Lawyer for Mr Peltzer, Vernon Dorman stood and said, “Your Honor, my client is innocent in all of this. And was merely arrested on counts of bias on behalf of the Lead Investigator. He has no criminal history. Your Honor my client is willing to surrender his passport to remain at home through this baseless trial.”

The curious author who watched his trial come to life and wet his lips as you said, “Agreed, bail is set at $. Officer Browen please escort Mr Peltzer out to see to that.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” he said accepting the signed bail sheet you handed over to him while the Defendant and his attorney thanked you to the scoffs of the DA in mock irritation to his being freed.

Smirks spread through the audience as the trio stood and were escorted out to the nearest room in the hall outside while notes were taken of this part of the trial being covered and both sides of Council readied as one by one from the final group of 24 students the Jury questioning was carried out. Just a couple questions were asked to speed up the process out of the pre-selected groups from each side with some removed and traded for more acceptable options.

Jury – 12 people

7 male/ 5 female

3 Late 30’s and up / 9 Low 30’s -18

8 rich/ 4 blue collar

To the assignment of those Jurors those students were relieved to fill up the only Juror Pool of these final set of trials and were excused from the courtroom to be given proper instruction while you closed the case for the day and stated the date that the case would be resumed. Pleased with the first step concluded the Council all filed out to take seats and allow the Council for the second case to file in for their own turn.

Schmidt vs Schmidt

“Are both parties present and ready?”

Both on their feet the Husband’s Lawyer Samuel Felton and the Wife’s Lawyer Lee Hogue spoke together, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Samuel Felton here today for Emil Schmidt.” And the other Lawyer spoke, “Lee Hogue on behalf of Sylvia Schmidt.”

You nodded and asked, “Have you two at least come to the agreement on who opens the case?”

Lee Hogue smirked and said, “We have, Your Honor.” While the other students sat he continued to share the background of the relationship of the duo. “Almost out of a storybook these two met, Mr Schmidt from white collar roots while my client came from a daughter of a painter and a concert pianist who over the dividing lines of an artistic family and one of a more pragmatic family bent on successful business ledgers began to date in High School. And over the years Mrs Schmidt has faithfully stood beside Mr Schmidt through numerous infidelities and social set backs while he found his footing in the Advertising world. A trial separation by my client was approached nearly a decade ago until it was confirmed she was pregnant with their child, Daniel, who is nine now. We are here today because Mr Schmidt again is in another relationship outside of the marriage and wishes to marry his mistress whom he met at his place of employment.”

“Very well,” General Eisenhower stated in the sip of water you took from the glass at your seat to wash down the scratch you felt at the back of your throat to a speck of dust in the air that wafted down from the fans above now in use after months of sitting stationary.

To the lower of the glass mention of the offered prenuptial agreement was detailed and then the points of deal breakers ended the day on a term of complete shambles to negotiations and work ahead to add in new assets gained since the date of the wedding. And the hushed murmurs and stolen glances were silenced with a welcomed gavel slam to free you all into cooler halls with notice of Friday as the next day to meet up.

Divorce outside of your case found itself in the headlines and above the picture of the moment where you and James stole a kiss after the trial. Your hand on his belly and his on yours in the toe top pose had speculation that a divorce and custody battle was underway with a wait until the baby was born for him to drop the bomb on you. Giggles and chuckled comments was the response when the headline was brought up with your grin being split wider to the jokes your favored Professors had come up with for this new development on yet another story in poor taste.

All false but it sold papers and for the addition to the piles of headlines like tear away calendars that got you closer to another week closer to Canada. Closer to the film that Norma was so eager to get started on that you had written and the home repairs that could keep the guys from hovering around you like concerned chickens ready to cuddle with the incoming babies. Dawn as well looked forward to be back near to her family who was aching to see how big Teddy and Marigold had grown and shower their grandbabies with as much love as possible to help grant ample time for you to relax and focus on your nesting phase.

Small steps would get you home again and your lives ready for this next step. Small steps like the next day where you completed another yearbook event you photographed while Portia took notes on the event for the paper. And while Victor printed the photographs for you up in the new Nursery where James found and smiled joining you in arranging small things around the trio of cribs the Brocks had lovingly made quilts and cushioned covers for the inside of them. Careful tucks and adjustments of items around the built in units the guys made for you while you were at school covering a full wall to the changing table opposite the mural coated wall the supply of diaper cloths with snaps to avoid delirious accidental stabs on pins was given their weekly refold.

Up around your back James molded and covered your belly with his hands to a press of his lips on your temple and murmured lovingly, “We’ll be ready for the girls.”

“We need gates for the steps,” that had him smirk and he hummed approvingly as you said, “Teddy nearly flipped over the pop up ones last month. Frightened Dawn half to death and Goldie and Petal will be up and around soon.”

“Okay, let’s sketch some stair gates. Me and Vic will make them while you’re at school and Dawn takes the munchkins to Mamma Brock’s.”

You nodded and to the sitting area in your room he helped you to come up with a simple solid door on a hinge with horizontal planks anchored by two vertical boards on either side with a board diagonally cut between them. Like small barn doors they would be anchored on hinges that would lock in place on the opposite banister to keep the babies from being able to clamber down the stairs without an adult to guide them. Grey and white were the chosen colors and everyone loved the designs that after supper James and Victor got to measuring the staircases for each at the tops and bottoms while you and Dawn soaked your feet.

Pt 68

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @changlingkhat

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam, @swoopswishsward

#James Howlett x OC #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x OC #Venom #Howard Stark #Edwin Jarvis #Mock Trials Begin #Baby Gates #Nesting Worries #maternity class

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toutallyahoe · 4 years

Text

Poison ~ Connor (DBH)

Requested By: --

A/N: here because i ask for threats for motivation and got some... finally finished this... i thought i wont get to ever finish this godforsaken one shot because this had been in my drafts for far too long. i am not joking. this thing is probably since 2018 but i have always been too busy procrastinating on finishing the "love" part and asdfghjjkl my writing style months ago was much more detailed than my writing style now... i cri

also, special thanks for that one anon who threatened me four times on stealing my toilet paper. a certain darling who threatened me with angst and then motivated me with kieran duffy art (where is it). and lastly to the anon who threatened my life for calling me straight...

─────────────────

"What's your poison?"

"My poison is..."

Alcohol

The android shook his head in disappointment as he watched the [Hair color] haired drown another shot of alcohol in one go. Calmly walking towards the male sitting in the bar's stool, Connor frowned as he momentarily scanned at the male's form. "Detective [Last name], you should stop drinking," the brunet android had said as his LED swirled to yellow when the male merely shrugged him off. Ordering another shot towards the bartender. "Detective [Last name], please."

The said male briefly looked at the android worrying over him and rolled his eyes as he grab the small glass of his alcohol. "Whatever," [Name] muttered as he raised the glass towards his mouth and was about to drink the glass' contents when his hand was abruptly grabbed. Looking at the culprit who grabbed him, it was none other than the android. Clicking his tongue as he gave an annoyed glare at Connor. The android only looked at him with worried brown eyes as his LED was flickering between red to yellow.

"Detective," Connor started as he took the drink away from the [Hair color] haired male's grasp with his other hand. "Please. I insist you to stop," the android finished as he continue to gaze at [Name]'s [Eye color] eyes with his own. The male looked at the android for awhile, staring at Connor's brown eyes until he let out a sigh from his lips and pulled his hand away from the android.

"Fine. You win..." [Name] had muttered as he stood up from the stool and grabbed his wallet from his jeans' pocket. The [Hair color] haired male took out a twenty dollar bill and put it on the counter while the small glass of alcohol was on top of the money.

"Be back next weekend, Jim!" The [Hair color] haired male called out to the bartender who gave a nod to the male as he walked towards the door of the bar. The brunet android following closely behind him as his LED was back to its blue hue.

Smoke

The [Hair color] haired male had stood up from his seat as he rubbed his temple. Closing his eyes as he let out a sigh, the male had decided to go out for a bit. Opening his eyes as he grabbed a carton of cigarettes off of his desk, the male turn around and walked away from his desk towards the exit of the precinct. [Name] didn't spare another glance of the files at the top of his desk as he walked out the huge building, a pair of brown colored orbs following his form as the owner stood up from his seat aswell and followed the detective.

"I didn't see you as the type to smoke, detective," the [Hair color] haired male looked to his side to see Connor watching him. Taking a long from the lit cigarette, [Name] took it off his lips with his index and middle finger. The male blow out the smoke as he gave the android a small smile.

"Am not. Just taking a few whips before going back to work again," [Name] casually replied with a shrugged as he put the cigarette back on his mouth to take another drag again. Connor nodded his head as he continue to look at the [Hair color] haired male doing his earlier actions.

The two kept quiet for awhile until the android decided to ask the detective about the case he was assigned. "Detective, may I ask you something?" The said male hummed as he blew out the smoke again and gave a brief glance at the android. "How's your case going so far?" The android asked as he looked at the [Hair color] haired male in the eye. [Name] seemed to froze for a bit as he stopped half way on putting his cigarette back towards his lips. Letting out a sigh, the male shook his head as he answered Connor's question. "Not good."

LED turning to yellow, Connor tilted his head as he furrowed his eyebrows. Not understanding what the male had just answered him. "Not good? Why is that, [Name]?" The android asked as the [Hair color] haired let out a sigh again and shook his head. Turning his head in front of him, he watched the half empty streets as Connor still looked at him with confusion, waiting for an explanation.

"There are some things that I couldn't explain, Connor," [Name] softly said as he dropped the almost done cigarette on the pavement and stepped on it. The [Hair color] haired male patted the android's back as he walked inside the building to continue his work, leaving Connor alone outside the precinct.

Drugs

"W... What?" The [Hair color] haired male had asked at the male sitting in front of him. His [Eye color] eyes widen as he looked surprised and a bit angered. "Jeffrey, what the fuck do you mean?" [Name] had questioned as the said man just let out a sigh. Rubbing his temple as he then directly looked at the [Hair color] male's eyes.

"Look, [Name]," Jeffrey had slowly began as he briefly glanced at the folder sitting on his desk. Grabbing the folder then opening it, his eyebrows furrowed as Jeffrey was rather concerned on the contents of the folder. "I have no choice but to issue you to be relieved of your duty..." The man had said as he looked up from the folder to see [Name]'s jaw clenched as his hands balled into a fist. Knuckles almost turning white as he glared at the older male.

"Yeah I know Jeffrey!" The enraged [Hair color] haired male shouted as his glare harden. "But I'm asking you, WHY?!?"

Slamming his hands on the desk as Jeffrey immediately stood up from his seat from the male's outburst. A glare directed to the young [Hair color] haired male as Jeffrey glared at him. "IT'S BECAUSE OF THIS OKAY?!?" The older man had said as he threw the folder towards [Name] who flinched back from his own outburst but still caught the folder. Hastily opening it, [Name] read the documents the folder had contained.

"W-what...?" The [Hair color] haired male had quietly muttered to himself as he looked at the older male with eyebrows furrowed and face held a confused look. "Jeffrey, why the fuck does this say I'm positive with narcotics?" [Name] had furiously questioned.

"That's what I wanted to know too, [Name]..." Jeffrey had said as he sat back down his chair and looked at the young male who looked utterly confused and angered. "Look, I know you for years [Name]," the older male had said as his strict expression slowly turned to a concerned one. "And I fully know well you won't do drugs... so I'm asking you, please elaborate on why does this test show you do," Jeffrey had finished as [Name] stood still in front of him. Opening his mouth then closing again. His throat felt dry as he can't think of something. Anything to explain why. "I... I-I don't know..."

The older male had sighed at hearing the [Hair color] haired male's sentence. Standing up, Jeffrey walked towards where the other male was standing and patted his back. "Then, I'm sorry but I have no choice but for you to leave until this issue is resolved [Name]..." Jeffrey had said as [Name] clutched the folder in his hands. Gritting his teeth as he merely turned to walk away. Not sparing a glance at his boss and old friend who looked at him in concern.

Getting out of Jeffrey's office, the [Hair color] haired male had immediately went towards his desk. Putting the folder on top of the desk as he grabbed some of the files and the pictures he had sticked on the wall's of his cubicle, muttering things underneath his breathe as he did. The [Hair color] haired male's action caused some heads to be turned towards his direction. Most went back to their own work but one continued to stare and observed the [Hair color] haired male's actions.

As [Name] was to busy on things on his mind, he didn't noticed someone was standing beside him until a voice piped that caused him to be surprised and looked at the direction of the voice. "Detective, what are you doing?" Connor had cautiously asked as he took noticed [Name] froze for a second then went back to grabbing the photos. Not answering Conner's question which made the android frown a little.

"Detective?" The android had said as he touched the [Hair color] haired male on hus shoulders then was shrugged off which made the brunet android feel a bit hurt. "Detective what's wrong?" Connor had asked. Quite worried for the [Hair color] haired male who merely turned around with the pictures and small stuff on his hands as he didn't spare a glance at the android. Connor watched as the male had left without a word.

Eyebrows furrowed as he was about to go after [Name] when he saw the brown folder the male had put awhile ago. Hesitantly picking it up, Connor had opened the folder and saw the documents. His LED swirled to red immediately as he read the file. Snapping his head as to the direction where [Name] had walked away and immediately tried to catch up. The folder and file were left at the desk as Connor run off to question [Name]. His abruptly actions cause many officers in the precinct to turn and looked at him like he was crazy as Hank had quietly questioned what has gotten into him.

Connor immediately ran outside as his LED stilll in a red hue. When the android had got out of the precinct, he saw the old fashioned car of the [Hair color] haired male passed by in front of him. The android had stopped as he blankly stared at the back of the [Hair color] haired male's car.

Medication

"Detective, open up!" Connor stood in front the [Hair color] haired male's house and he knocked on the door once again, calling the male for the fourth time. "Please detective! Open up!" The brunet android had said as he knocked again, LED yellow as Connor had noted the windows of the house were shut by the curtains. "Detective please!"

Since the day [Name] had left the DPD, no one had ever seen or heard from him again. Even trying to contact the [Hair color] haired male was to no avail as it is always lead to voicemail, and it honestly made a lot of the officers worried about the [Hair color] haired male. They had heard of the news that the drug test everyone took were clear except his and it was a surprise to many as the detective was never the person to do so. Some believed about the results were false yet some also said that maybe the [Hair color] haired male does do drugs because of the last case he was assigned to after his resignation.

Connor still remembered some of those discussion vividly. It had been a couple of days when the [Hair color] haired male had took his things and left by the order of Jeffrey. Many had already noticed his absence on those days and some had asked the commander on why does the [Hair color] haired male on a leave. It was soon found out about the positive drug test and talk had started of the officers of the DPD.

"The [Last name] used drugs? How can that be?" Tina had asked in surprised as one of the officer, Chris, had told the female. A small frown on both their lips to hear the news of the results of the drug test and [Name]'s resignation. Gavin who was listening to the two snorted as he rolled his eyes.

"Can you blame the guy though? I would too if I had his fucking case," the brunet detective had bluntly stated as Tina and Chris looked at him. Gavin let out a sighed as he briefly looked at the direction empty desk of the [Hair color] haired male who used to work there. "But let's just hope he really didn't take drugs and just an error."

Connor, who was a few desk away had heard of the conversation, looked at the old desk of the [Hair color] haired male with an unreadable expression on his face. His LED flicker from yellow to red multiple times. Hank who sat on his own desk let out a sigh as he saw the brunet android looked out of it. "[Name] what happened to you..." The older male had questioned himself as he looked at the photo of him and the [Hair color] haired male with his St. Bernard, Sumo and [Name]'s German Shepherd, Prince.

"[Name] please! I know your in there, just please open the door!" Connor had pleaded as once again, the door wasn't opened. There was no sign of noise or movement inside the two storied house but the android fully know the male was inside and home. The black 1967 Chevrolet Camaro SS was parking outside the garage and the android knows how the [Hair color] haired male loved driving his car anytime he can get.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Connor decided to turn and walked towards the side of the house and find an uncovered window to take a peak at the house. Finding one with the curtain had a small opening, the android looked and saw it was a window that lead to the kitchen. Maneuvering himself to gain a better sight of the inside, the android was surprised to see [Name] sitting in one if the chairs of the table inside the kitchen. The [Hair color] haired male's body was hunched and his head was on the table, both arms prompted to use as a pillow.

Connor tried to open the window only to know it was locked. Muttering a small apology to the knocked out [Hair color] haired male as he hit the window with his elbow, the loud sound of glass breaking didn't even made the sleeping male woken up as he merely layed there. With the window broken and an opening to get inside was set through, Connor had maneuvered himself to pull himself up and get inside. The android fell when his upper body got in as he landed on the floor with broken shards of glass with a loud thud.

Connor seemed to be surprised when he felt something jump on top of him and the sound of barking. Looking at the thing that had jumped on top of him was a dog, a German Shepherd breed. The android's LED flicker to yellow as he raised both of his arms and tried to calm the dog down, squinting his eyes when he saw a dog collar and read the dog's name.

"H-hey there Prince, calm down... I'm a friend," Connor had slowly said as the German Shepherd slowly quieted the dog's barking, the android awkward patted the German Shepherd's head as he continued. "I'm here to help your owner," Connor said as Prince had jumped off him and walked to his owner's leg and just layed there, brown colored eyes of the dog staring at the android's form who was slowly getting up.

Connor pushed himself off from the glass covered floor and immediately stood up, scanning the kitchen until his gaze stopped at the still knocked out male on the table. Slowly walking towards the [Hair color] haired male as the android dusted his uniform, Connor's lips turned into a frown when he had noticed the empty bottles of Jack Daniels on top of the table with a half empty glass of liquor beside the knocked out male.

As Connor neared the [Hair color] haired male, the android stopped his movements when he noticed something in the knocked out male's hand. An small orange container is what the android had deduced from what he can see as he hesitantly reached out for it. Softly, the brunet android uncurled the [Skin color] fingers that wrapped around the container as Connor then took it, bringing it closer to see the orange container was. Welton Zolpidem.

The android's LED flashed red as Connor's frowned deepen, softly shaking his head as his brown eyes slowly trained to the [Hair color] haired male. Worry evident in his brown colored orbs as the android just looked at him sleeping. "What happened to you detective?" The android softly muttered as he watched the sleeping male sorrowfully, clutching the antidepressant in his hand.

Love

A soft groan left the [Hair color] haired male lips as he slowly sat up, rubbing his head as he gave a small hiss from the massive pain in his forehead that he was feeling. [Name] was barely awake when he had realized that he wasn't where he was last night, which was in a the kitchen table, drinking. The confused [Hair color] haired male stopped rubbing forehead and looked around the area he was in. His bedroom. He was in his bedroom and he did not know how he got there. "I must be really drunk last night..." The [Hair color] haired male groggily said as he tried to ease the pain in his head by rubbing it again.

After awhile, [Name] finally found the strength not to vomit his insides out and stand up from his bed. The [Hair color] haired male slowly stood up from his bed to realize his clothes weren't the exact clothes he had last time, he was more in confusion as he was know, he didn't really remember changing or going to bed. A curse left his lips as he really overdid his drinking. "Fucking hell... what happened last night?" The [Hair color] haired muttered as he staggeredly walked towards the door of his room to go to the kitchen and get a drink of water. Hopefully his pain killers was still somewhere inside the kitchen for him to use when he get there. The head ache was killing him.

As [Name] staggered the small hallway of his home, the [Hair color] haired placed a hand on the walls to help him balance since he was still having trouble. The house was quiet which was quite odd for the male. Where the hell was his dog, Prince? Usually, that dog would either be licking his face to wake up or scratch the outside of the door if the dog had locked himself out of his owner's room to have breakfast. And it was usually at six in the morning for the black and brown dog to do that. Maybe that pup just chewed the cushions again. God, the [Hair color] haired male prayed it wasn't that because he didn't want to buy new ones, again.

As the [Hair color] haired male walked, his mind drifted back to what he did last night. Actually, what did he do? His memory was still hazy and not to mention the still lingering feeling of his head being smashed by a thousand sledgehammers, he still can't remember much.

'God, what did I do?' The [Hair color] haired male had thought as he reached the bottom of the stairs, which he miraculously avoided falling down from busy with his thoughts and his staggering steps.

Already reaching the bottom, the [Hair color] haired man had immediately went towards the kitchen, praying that his pain killer medication was there or else he'll have to make coffee to actually help his painful head ache. With a groan, the male trudged to his kitchen, still trying to remember what he ahd last night and where was his furry companion. Those were the only things on his mind until he was close to the kitchen where he had smelled something that made his stomach growl in hunger.

"What the fuck?" Came [Name]'s confused statement as he hurried his pace to go to the kitchen. His mind a bit frantic now with only one thought in mind:

'Is there another fucking person in the house or did Prince just fucking learned how to cook?' [Name] had thought as he saw the kitchen doorway where he immediately pressed himself on the wall. 'Fucking hell, this is too fucking early for this shit.' He grimly thought as he looked at the doorway only to freeze.

Althought the person's back was turned, [Name] fully knows who they were. That brown neat hair, grey colore uniform with the white text of "ANDROID" and "RK800" on it's back. The [Hair color] haired male knows. The man also noticed the familair black and brown furry animal who was sitting obedienly beside the android. What he saw was none other than the android who visited him hours ago when he was unconscious and his German Shepherd dog. Connor and Prince.

The android seemed to be busy making whatever on his stove, probably cooking some eggs from the egg carton and also egg shells the [Hair color] haired male saw beside the counter. He also noticed that the table on the center of the kitchen was clean, no empty boxes of pizza, wrappers or the beer cans and bottle of alcohol. It was clean and even had a neatly put plates and silverware to probably use for this "breakfast" thing the android is preparing.

"C... Connor...?" [Name] had said the android's name. Due to the advance hearing that was programmed onto him, Connor had heard [Name]'s raspy and tired voice behind him as he placed the cooked eggs on a plate. Turning his head around, the brunet android sent the confused and tired [Hair color] haired male a smile.

"Good morning, detective!" The android chirped as he took the plate of eggs he had cooked and placed it on the table. "Did you sleep well, detective?" Connor had asked. Not minding the incredibled look the male had sent him as he turned back around to walk towards the coffee machine and pour a warm cup of coffee onto the mug that was sitting beside it. The android then took the mug and walked towards [Name], that smile still on his lips as he handed the male the mug.

"I hope I did not disturb your sleep from the noise I was making with cooking your breakfast, detective," Connor has said as he saw [Name] took the mug. The [Hair color] haired male blinked a few times as his conscious was still not really back. He still feel like this was some lucid dream since he seeing Connor, the brunet androud again for thr first time in weeks? It surprised him.

"Erm... uhh, no..." [Name] awkwardly said as he then cleared his throat and looked at Connor. "You didn't... I'm just... why are you here?" He has asked. For a split second, Connor looked saddened for a moment until it was gone before it even came. [Name] truly wondered if the android did change expressions on his happy smiling face there. He blamed it on his still sleepy state.

"I..." Connor bit his bottom lip as he looked away from the [Hair color] haired male's gaze. Instead, finding the animal beside his legs more interesting as Prince, the German Shepherd, made comfortable with himself on the floor and laid down.

"You what?" [Name] didn't mean the harshness in his voice. In fact, he didn't expect for his tone to be harsh when he had asked the android. He let out a sigh when he saw Connor flinched at his tone as he shakes his head. The pain was still there, maybe it added to why he was so cranky. Still tired and having a massive headache in the morning.

"I'm... I'm sorry," the [Hair color] haired male apologized as he raused the mudlg of coffee onto his lips and blew on it a few times until he drank. "I just... I... fuck," [Name] had said as Connor finally looked at him. Ratyer worried when [Name]'s tone change in the middle of his sentences.

"Detective," Connor started as he saw [Name] looked at the mug in deeo thought. "Are you... are you alright?" The android hesitantly asked as he gently grapped the mug off of the [Hair color] haired male's hand. His other hand holding [Name]'s hand as he had gently pulled the man to the table. Placing the mug onto the surface of the table, Connor turned back to [Name] who had watched his actions.

"Sit here, detective," the android had commanded as the male did as told. No questions asked as he sat on the chair while the android dragged another and settled it in front of him. The brunet android then sitting comfortably on it.

"Detective, are you alright?" Connor asked again as he held one of [Name]'s [Skin color] hand. The android looking at the [Hair color] haired man in the eye. His tone soft and his face held a worried look that made [Name]'s heart ache a bit.

"To be honest Connor?" [Name] started as a dry chuckle leaving his lips. Taking his hand away from the android's hold. The [Hair color] haired male swore he saw that flash of hurt on the android's face for a second time but he blinked and it was never there. Maybe he just needed sleep. "I haven't been alright for awhile now," he confessed. His hands combing his messy [Hair color] hair in stress as he looked down the ground.

"You probably already know from the mess you have seen earlier, right?" [Name] commented as he gave another pathetic chuckle. "I'm a mess Connor... a goddamn mess," the [Hair color] haired male concedingly said. "Why do you even bother, Connor?" [Name] had asked as he looked at Connor. "Why are you here? Dealing with me?"

"It's because I-- we missed you, detective," the android softly said as he saw [Name] let out a laugh. "Detective, we do... we missed you in the precinct," Connor continued. Tone evident that he was begging for the [Hair color] haired male to believe him.

"You? Miss me?" The [Hair color] haired male had asked. He then chuckled dryly as he looked at Connor. "And why on earth would you do that?" He had asked. Connor bit his bottom lip again as the LED on the side of his head swirled to yellow and red multiple times until it finally stayed at yellow.

"Because... because we care, [Name]," Connor had gently said. Using the [Hair color] haired male's name which surprises the said man. Connor didn't mind. The android continued on. "I... I care [Name]," the brunet android softly said as he reached out for the [Hair color] haired male's hands again and intertwining his with [Name]'s. His actions surprised the man more and [Name] would have said anything if it wasn't for Connor looking at him in the eyes with such emotion.

"I had these feelings... feelings for awhile now," the android confessed. There was a small taint of blue hue painting the skin of his cheeks as he continued on. "And... and these feelings comes out when I am with you," [Name] didn't know what to say as he kept his mouth shut when Connor said more.

"You make me happy when you are with me. You make me sad and worried when you're hurt. You make me feel things-- things that Hank says is... is..." The android's face flushed a more brighter shade of blue hue to show he was flustered. "Hank that says is love..." Connor softly whispered.

"So please... please don't ever think you are not love," Connor had firmly said. "Because... because I... I do [Name]," Connor confessed as he watched the [Hair color] haired male's reaction would be to his confession.

"Goddamn it..." [Name] cursed as he sighed. Sending Connor a greatful smile as he squeezed the android's hand that was intertwined with his. "Of all things to love... you fell for a mess?" The [Hair color] haired male mused as he saw the brunet android shakes his head at his comment but smiled softly at him.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, detective," Connor had said as his LED blinked to red when he saw the tears falling down the [Hair color] haired male's eyes. "Detective?!?" The android shouted in alarm as he hastily took his hands away from their hold and instead cupped [Name]'s face as he stood up from hsi seat to scan the male's body. Rather worried and confused on why the [Hair color] haired male abruptly started crying.

"Detective, are you alright?" Connor asked worriedly. There was a slight hint of panic in his tone as he inspected the [Hair color] haired male's face. He had already scanned [Name]'s health and data and it showed that the male was perfectly fine. Well, there was signs of fatigue and the male's stress levels were rather high from his nornal range, but there was no visible ailments that the brunet android could see. Which doubles Connor's worry for the [Hair color] haired male.

"Is... are you hurt?" Connor had asked. The brunet android had gotten a shake in disagreement. "Did... did I say something wrong, detective?" The android softly asked. Thinking that he had said something to cause a negative reaction for the male to cry.

Connor bit his bottom lip in distress when he thought that maybe [Name]'s reaction was from his confession. It made the brunet android's thirium pump skipped a beat when he thought that the [Hair color] haired man did not return his own affection.

"Was... I... I'm sorry..." Connor had apologized. Thinking it was his fault for making the [Hair color] haired man cry. The android let out a surprised noise when he felt himself pulled down onto [Name] as the [Hair color] haired male's lips crashed onto his. Connor's LED swirled yellow to red multiple times as his mind felt like shutting down. The brunet android did not process what was currently happening as the only thing on his mind was that [Name]'s lips were on his. They were kissing.

Connor closed his eyes as he gently rubbed his thumb on the [Hair color] haired male's check. Leaning more closer towards the [Hair color] haired male as the android felt [Name]'s hands gently placed themsleves above his where the android was still holding the male's face gently.

"I... [Name]..." Connor had muttered in a daze when they aprted from the kiss. The brunet android's checks flushed with blue hue as the [Hair color] haired male's had a taint of pink and softly gasping for air that he had lost with locking lips with the android. "[Name]... does.. does this mean... you..." Connor sputtered out. Still not processing what happened as the [Hair color] haired male smile fondly.

"I don't know why you would fall in love with me," [Name] had softly muttered as his comment semed to snao the android out from his daze. The brunet android gave furrowed his eyebrows as his lips formed into a frown. Clearly displeased with the [Hair color] haired doubting our putting himself down. Connor was about to comment on that when [Name] brought him back again for another kiss. It was quick and innocent that made the android's mind boggled again. Just enough time for the [Hair color] haired to continue. "But I love you..."

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ravenbrenna09 · 4 years

Text

masterpiece

Title: masterpiece

Square Filled: Soulmates AU

Ship: Robbe IJzermans/Sander Driesen

Trigger Warnings: None applied

Created for @skamevents

So, Soulmate AUs are my absolute favorite trope of any AU ever and I love reading all of them. I love the names on the arms, having the same symbol, I love seeing color only if your soulmate is nearby, but one of my favorites is being connected by their skin. And, with Sander as an artist in canon, I absolutely HAD to use this one. Soulmate AUs absolutely FASCINATE me and so I had to do this one.

Now, because this fic ended up being WAY MORE than what I wanted it to be, it physically will not fit in this text box, so I will be putting the first scene of the fic into this with a read more link at the bottom (note: this is the same scene as my masterpiece snippet that I posted a few days ago). So, I hope you enjoy the rest of this chapter.

...

Read on AO3

...

Thursday was not Robbe’s day.

Thursday was, by far, Robbe’s longest and physically draining day. While his first class of the day didn’t start until a little before 12:00, his day wouldn’t end until about 23:00 which was when the library closed down. To add to his torture of a long day, thanks to extending his own shift so Amber could be picked up by her mother on her way home from work, his classes on Thursdays were particularly draining, filled with dry teachers that talked to the board and ignored any and all questions.

Letting out a sigh, Robbe turned to his introductory essay which was pulled up in another tab of the computer in front of him. The head of the department didn’t care about them working on homework, as long as their other jobs were done first, and Robbe had already put up the remaining books in the library, straightened up the desks where the student workers sat, and filed away a stack or two of files for one of his superiors.

Now, that all of his librarian work was done, at least until someone returned a book to the circulation counter and he would go off in search of its rightful spot, Robbe could focus on this essay, or a story, that his writing teacher had assigned as an “introduction” to their mindset as writers. And, the topic that had been chosen by his other 25 classmates was soulmates.

He let out a breath of air, burying his face in his hands.

Robbe hated soulmates.

Or, rather, he hated the idea of soulmates.

As a kid, Robbe would sit and watch his mother doodle on her skin with her favorite pen, watch the curve of her letters, her small doodles of flowers, appear on the exact same spot on his father’s hand. His parents would smile at each other, love in their eyes, and tease each other when the other got a stain on their hand because it affected both of them.

To little six-year-old Robbe, soulmates were everything that he had to offer and he thought that he didn’t have one because doodles never appeared on his skin. His mother had giggled at him, informing him that his soulmate’s doodles wouldn’t appear until after he reached puberty. Little Robbe had been confused as to why he had to wait, he now knew that the changing hormones and chemicals in the body at puberty that caused the connection to show fully, but no one, not even people researching and studying soulmates, could pinpoint how soulmates are chosen or when.

To present-day, eighteen-year-old Robbe, soulmates were crap.

His parents had been soulmates, had fallen in love, and got married, having Robbe shortly after. For the first eight years of Robbe’s life, his parents had been happily in love with one another. His father loved being home, loved cuddling his wife on the couch, to the point that Robbe would call them disgusting and throw a pillow at them and they would laugh. Then, his parents started fighting about little things, small minuscule details that shouldn’t matter. As the years went on, the fights got worse, louder and louder until Robbe couldn’t sleep at night anymore, sneaking out of his house and going to his best friend’s house to crash. Then, his father left them alone, found another woman who made him happier, and his mother spiraled, leaving Robbe caught in between, trying to help her.

His parents were soulmates and they had fallen out of love.

If the one person that you were destined to be with was supposed to leave you anyways, what was the point of having the ability to connect with them on a physical level?

Letting out a sigh, Robbe reached out, typing angrily. Soulmates are fucking stupid.

“Woah there,” Zoë teased, walking up with a cup of coffee in her hand.

Zoë was a barista and one of Robbe’s roommates. At the beginning of the year, Robbe had moved into the three-bedroom flatshare with her and a senior, Milan, because Robbe was not going to live with his dad, not after what he did to his mom, not with him and his new girlfriend. It was a minor miracle that the two of them had been so willing and that his father had been so understanding. His father wanted him to live in the dorms, but it was too expensive for Robbe. He was barely surviving month-to-month as it was and living in the dorms would be almost double the cost.

“What’s wrong?” Zoë questioned.

“What isn’t wrong?” Robbe questioned. “Of all the topics my writing class had to pick for our introductory assignment, they picked soulmates.” Zoë scrunched up her nose, understanding. “And, I can’t think of anything to write other than soulmates are fucking stupid.” As if she didn’t believe him, he turned the screen towards her and she stood on her toes to look, letting out a light breath through her nose. He let out a sigh, straightening the computer back. “Think that will get me full points?”

“I doubt it.” Zoë laughed. “Here, it’s from Chloë.”

“Again?” Robbe questioned. Chloë was a barista at the café, who had a crush on Robbe so obvious that even he could see it, which was saying something. When it came to realizing people having feelings for him, he didn’t have the best track record. Despite the fact that Robbe had several relationships, almost all of them had been as a result of the other person making the first move. “How many times have you told her that she’s not my type?”

“Robbe,” Zoë laughed, reaching out to pat his head with a tone that says many times. “I think the only way she’s going to be convinced that you aren’t interested in her is if she finds you making out with a guy. Not that I can blame her. You are a cute boy. Whether you want to admit it or not.” Robbe rolled his eyes before spotting the purple writing on the back of her hand. Zoë caught his gaze and scoffed. “My soulmate’s latest ‘conquest’,” she remarked, pivoting the hand towards Robbe so he could see.

Had a good time tonight was followed by a phone number, only the final digit was smudged.

Robbe knew that he had a soulmate, of course, but his soulmate wasn’t the type of person who slept around a lot, or if they did, they didn’t have girls writing numbers on the back of their hand in hopes of a second round.

On his sixteenth birthday, his best friend, Jens, had jokingly drawn a poor excuse of a birthday cake and sixteen candles on the back of his right hand (and Robbe will never admit to anyone how disappointed he was that it didn’t show up on Jens’ hand). Within an hour, as he sat in his biology class, his soulmate, whoever they were, had drawn an arrow to it and wrote awful, zero stars on booking.com before proceeding to draw a perfectly drawn cake, in pen, with the exact number on the candles, on the back of his left hand. The drawing looked perfect, meticulous, and every year, on that same day, another cake would appear on his hand with an additional candle.

Robbe had a soulmate.

Even if he didn’t want one.

Zoë let out a heavy sigh, pulling him back into the world of the present. “Every morning I wake up with a new number on my hand is another morning I question if you have the right idea,” she admitted, staring at her hand. “Soulmates are crap. I’m always half-tempted to call the number, tell her that he’s just going to find someone else, but what’s the point, right? Plus, it’s missing a digit.”

“Save a woman from getting her hopes up, probably. But, don’t worry,” Robbe remarked. “I’m sure he’ll get his head out of his ass soon.”

“Excuse me,” a voice remarked, over Zoë’s shoulder.

The two of them pivoted to find that a blond-haired man was standing behind them. The man was stunning, absolutely breathtaking as though he had been carved from stone. There was a black-beanie resting lightly on his head, covering the strands of white-blonde hair that poked out from the edge, and he had a pair of bright green eyes that were slightly hidden by the black-framed glasses on his nose. He was dressed in a pair of denim jeans, black converse, and a t-shirt with an artist that he didn’t recognize beneath his black hoodie.

Robbe felt his breath catch in his throat.

Looking like that in a hoodie, glasses, and a beanie was ridiculously unfair.

Especially to Robbe.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” he continued, pushing up his green bag further up his shoulder. “But, I need to check out this book for my art history class.”

“Of course,” Robbe replied, his voice cracking a little. There was a knowing look on Zoë’s face, a familiar eyebrow raised that she generally reserved only for Milan, as she shuffled to the side, taking the coffee with her. The man stepped forward, placing the book on the edge of the counter, and Robbe took the book from him, eager to make sure their hands didn’t touch. “Sorry about that. Do you have your id?”

“Yeah, it’s in here somewhere,” the man replied, digging his wallet out of his bag. He found it, handing it over to Robbe, their fingers brushing ever so slightly, almost like it was on purpose. Robbe felt a jolt shoot up his hand as he took the id in his hands, switching to the electronic check-out system, typing in his student id number and scanning the book. A name popped up. Sander Driesen.

Once Robbe had deactivated the electric security in the spine, he placed his id on top of the cover and slid it across the counter, “Here you go.” Robbe kept his hand on the other side of the book, making sure to pull his own hand away before Sander reached out to grab it. He took the book from the counter, grabbing his id and slipping it into his pocket. “It’ll be due on the 17th of next month.”

Sander sent him a grin, a slightly confident, slightly wicked grin, like he somehow managed to know the effect that he was having on Robbe and his already jumbled mind, almost as much as Zoë did. “Thank you, Robbe,” he remarked. At Robbe’s confused, puzzled look, Sander’s eyes dropped down to his chest and Robbe looked finding his nametag, wanting to slap his forehead. He glanced towards Zoë, who was still hanging off to the side with her chin against her palm, and Robbe thought he saw his eyes flicker down to her hand, recognition in his eyes, but then, Sander was smiling at her and saying to her, all confident and charming, “Sorry about interrupting your conversation.”

“It’s completely okay,” Zoë replied. “I was about to leave anyway.”

Sander moved off, grinning at her, and Zoë handed Robbe his coffee, a knowing glint in her eye as she boosted herself up over the counter to press a kiss against his cheek. He shoved her away, wiping away the residue of her signature red lipstick, and Zoë ran out the door, giggling all the way and promising to save him some leftovers from dinner. Robbe let out a sigh, trying to return to his essay on stupid soulmates, but found his eyes looking for Sander, who had disappeared.

Read The Rest on AO3

#brenna's soulmate au #brenna writes #my fic #my writing #sobbe #rosander #wtfock #wtfam #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #skamevents #skamevents bingo #i decided to participate after all and soulmate au just happened to be on the bingo card #so like that was a win for me #sobbe fic #rosander fic #wtfock fic

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steebharringt0n · 5 years

Text

sanctuary - part 4

summary: Subject 001. That’s what you’ve been called your whole life. You’ve known nothing but pain, violence, and isolation. You were their greatest secret weapon, but when your final mission is to ensure the end of the universe, you escape to Hawkins, Indiana to team up with Eleven and to put an end to all this chaos, once and for all - you just never expected to fall in love with the resident bad boy along the way.

rating: m

pairing: billy hargrove x reader

warning: graphic violence, slurs, abuse, curse words.

A/N: holy SHIT I am blown away by all of your responses! Seriously, you guys keep me motivated, I never thought my little idea would blow up but I am so, so happy you guys are enjoying it. I cannot say thank you enough <3 PLEASE let me know if you want to be tagged, or if I missed you. thank you, thank you <3

tagged list: @thefandomzoneisdangerous @jujurandy @littlebrownngirl @harduy @art-flirt @bish-ima-clown @lynnskata @snakelaufeyson @creativedogs @nightshade7117 @letsloveimagines @sorry-didnt-mean-to-stab-you

001. prologue 002. firestarter 003. spitfire --- 004. friend

“Sit right there and don’t touch anything”

You rolled your eyes at Billy’s command. Plopping down on the old worn out couch as he was pulled aside, Nancy grabbing him by his leather jacket and pulling him to the back of the basement, they were whispering furiously to each other, not loud enough to where you could hear.

You could tell she wasn’t happy to see him by the way they greeted each other when you met the petite girl by the back gate of her house. They spoke harshly and curt to each other. She had short curly hair, and kind eyes, not ones you saw very often. A feeling in your gut told you that you could trust her. At least you had hoped.

She had led you two through the back gate and into a large room (which apparently is called a basement) with a large, old couch, and nick-nacks haphazardly placed all over the floor. You looked over at the small table next to the couch and saw a picture of 4 little boys, happily smiling with some sort of weapon in their hand. You gently picked it up with your hand and stared at it, examining it with your eyes as you realized it was the same boys that you had found in the file.

The file.

You looked up at the girl, speaking in harsh whispers to Billy who seemed annoyed by her.

Nancy Wheeler.

She knew Eleven.

“Nancy. Nancy Wheeler”

Billy and Nancy froze mid-conversation and turned their bodies to face you.

“Your brother is Michael Wheeler. You both know Eleven.”

Billy and Nancy exchanged concerned looks. “How do you know my name?” she questioned, taking a step towards you.

“Your name … it’s in the file.”

She shook her head, confused, “What file?”

“Eleven’s file. They’ve been watching you, for quite some time now. They know.”

“What? Who’s they? What do they want?” she crossed her arms, her brows furrowed.

“It’s the Russians” Billy interjected plainly.

Nancy let out a laugh, “Wait, wait, so you’re telling me the Russians know about Eleven, have been stalking me and my family for the past year, and now this asshole - “

“Watch it Wheeler”

“- is telling me that the world is going to end soon and you want to stop it? Did I get all of that right?”

Your eyes shifted around the room. “... yes”

Nancy threw her hands up in the air, clearly exasperated, “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me”

She paced around the room, her eyes closed and her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. You watched as she let out a heavy sigh, “I - I have to call Jonathan … he needs to know”

She quickly started to make her way up the wooden stairs. Billy walked over to you and plopped himself right next to you, a tired look on his face as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He placed one in his mouth, and you were ready to help him light it when a voice from upstairs yelled down back at you both,

“Don’t you dare smoke in here Hargrove!”

Billy glared at her figure from the top of the stairs. He grumbled something and shoved the cigarette back into his pocket of his leather jacket. You sighed and leaned back into the couch, although it was old and worn down, it was comfortable; something that you had very little luxury of having in your short life. You felt your body become relaxed and your eyes suddenly became heavy. It had been a long three days, your body was completely worn out and it ached for a warm, soft place. You heard a soft clicking noise, cracking open one eye you glanced over at Billy who was playing with his zippo lighter with his left hand.

“Billy, that’s annoying”

He twisted his neck to look at you. You two were both still tense from the argument in the car so he had absolutely no patience to deal with you at the moment. He snorted at your comment and turned his attention back to the lighter, continuing to mess with it.

The sound was becoming grating to you, as you were trying to at least catch 10 minutes of sleep, but he kept on playing with it. You fully opened your eyes, leering at him with disdain.

Click, click, click, click

Your hand quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist. Not tight enough to hurt him, but tight enough to have him stop that damn clicking noise. He fully turned to you, anger flashing in his eyes, “Would you fucking let me go?” he huffed.

“Well would you fucking stop?”

“No, gimme back my wrist”

“No, stop flicking the stupid lighter”

He tugged his wrist away from your hand, pulling tightly but you had a good grip on it.

“If you break my wrist I swear to god … “

“What? What are you gonna do? Hurt me?” you countered.

Billy growled lowly at your comment. He knew that he couldn’t hurt you if he could, for one, you could kill him, and for two, he was strangely attracted by the fact that you didn’t put up with his bullshit. Most girls would typically be groveling to get attention by him, but you, you didn’t care. You two were both having an intense staring contest at this point, his blue eyes staring intensely into yours - stubbornness was a quality you both had and you both refuse to let the other one win.

Though he knew this was a battle he physically couldn’t win - he knew another way to fight back.

Billy smirked at you, licking his lips slowly. Your eyes widened as your heart started to beat loudly. He leaned into your ear, his hot breath sending intense goosebumps throughout your body.

“I know what I can do to you” he whispered, his voice was deep and rich, it was almost seductive.

You felt blood rush throughout your body and those stupid butterflies in your stomach reappeared. You swallowed harshly, and your grip in his wrist started to ease up. You felt your cheeks start to heat up and he quickly yanked his wrist away from your pull, a shit-eating grin on his face as you realized what he had done.

Your eyes narrowed at him, “You motherfu-”

“Are you guys done flirting or ...?”

Both you and Billy looked up at the top of the stairs and saw Nancy staring at you both, her head cocked and a sly smile on her face. In her hands were clean clothes, most likely for you to change into. You quickly jumped away from Billy, placing yourself on the other side of the couch. Your arms crossed, avoiding eye contact with either one of them. “We’re not … flirting … whatever that is … “ you grumbled.

Nancy mouthed an ‘okay’ while Billy leaned back into the couch, a triumphant smirk on his face as he looked over your embarrassed figure. She walked over to you and handed you the clothes, “Here, clean clothes. I figured you could borrow some of my old clothes. Get into something nicer”

You smiled at her, you took the clothes from her hand and placed them on your lap. You reached down to pull the sweatshirt over your head, exposing your skin and to Nancy and Billy when Nancy yelped at you, “Whoa, whoa!”

You froze.

“I’m changing … is that okay?”

Nancy turned away from you, an embarrassed smile on her face, “Uh, not in front of us. You could change in the bathroom, take a shower, you know?”

You glanced over at Billy who still had a smirk on his face. He would never pass up a chance to see a naked girl - especially one who knew how to get under his skin. Nancy scoffed at him, “Gross Billy, grow up”

He shrugged, “I’m not trying to get in her way of changing … if that’s her prerogative” he trailed off, his face still with that smirk of his. Nancy shook her head, rolling her eyes at his comment. She turned her attention back to you, “Listen, you should go shower, get comfortable you know?”

Before you could respond to her, a loud banging noise and the sudden thuds of loud footsteps broke your attention. Instinctively you jumped up from the couch and moved towards the noise, your adrenaline running as you flexed your right arm and emitted a fireball from your palm, ready to chuck the ball of flame towards the threat.

“WHOA, WHOA!”

Nancy ran over and pulled you away, as the basement door swung open and a terrified Jonathan appeared at the top of the stairs. He threw up his hands, surrendering to you.

“He’s good! He’s good! He’s my boyfriend!” Nancy shouted at you, her hand still tugging at your left arm.

You instantly relaxed, the flame disappearing from your palm. You turned back to a terrified Nancy who was still trying to catch her breath, “S-sorry … it’s a reflex … “ you muttered, walking back over and sitting back on the couch.

Jonathan then slowly made his way down the stairs. His heart still pounding out of his chest as he surveyed the scene.

Billy Hargrove on his girlfriend’s couch, a strange girl who could control fire, and his terrified girlfriend. He would have never thought in a million years that he would walk onto this scene, but then again, crazier events have occurred.

“See what I mean!” Billy exclaimed, gesturing over to you.

Nancy walked over to Jonathan and gave him a quick hug and a peck on his lips. “You okay?” she questioned quietly. He nodded, “Yeah, just … give me a second to compose myself”

You stared at them in complete and utter confusion. “Did you just … put your lips on his?”

“He’s my boyfriend … “ Nancy trailed off, expecting you to know what she meant, but you just simply shrugged, your eyebrows still etched together.

“Oh yeah, that’s the other thing, she doesn’t know a lot of things … she’s kind of clueless” Billy added, his arms outstretched on the couch as he settled himself in.

Nancy and Jonathan exchanged looks, this was going to be a lot harder than this presented itself to be - and it did not help that Billy Hargrove, resident bully of Hawkins High, was also mixed in this.

“Never mind that - we need you to tell us everything you know, about El, about the Russians, about you … everything” Nancy announced, taking a seat on the floor as Jonathan followed suit.

You stared at the pair in front of you, then glanced over to look at Billy who although didn’t seem as if he was paying attention, was most definitely interested in learning more about your backstory, and how this mess was going to play out.

So you told them everything. From the beginning.

You told them about the experiments that Brenner and his Russian buddies were performing on kids, and how you were the first experiment.

“I - I never knew my mother, nor my father … Brenner was the closest thing I had to a father … “ You trailed off, your mind wandering back to all those times you had trusted Brenner, all those times he abused you, used you for his own means. You swallowed harshly, feeling tears brim your eyes.

Nancy reached out to you and placed her hand on your shoulder, “Hey, we can stop if you want, we don’t need to talk about it”

You furiously shook your head, “N - No, in order to understand you need to know everything”

Billy stared at you with sympathetic eyes. He so badly wanted to reach out and give you a reassuring touch, as you did with him at the diner. But he fought against it - especially not in front of Nancy and Jonathan.

So you continued, you spoke about how you could carry assassinations for the Russians, how they trained you for hours and hours until you perfected your strength and your pyrokinesis. The only thing that they ever let you own was an old radio that sometimes, whenever it wanted it, played music.

“My powers … I can control fire with my mind, and with my hands … I - I’m also really strong, like really, really strong”

“Yeah, she pretty much broke Tommy H’s hand” Billy chimed in. “And has almost broken my wrist … twice now” he added dejectedly, raising his wrist to you. You rolled your eyes, “I said I was sorry”

Billy grunted and turned his head away from you. You sighed heavily and continued your story,

“T-these Russians, they know, they know about the gate, the know about those … things … those monsters … They’ve been watching you all for the past year or so because of what had previously occurred”

Jonathan blanched, and Nancy had the color drained from her face.

“They want to control it, t-the monsters - they want to control to take over the world and they wanted to use me to do it, but I refused, I escaped. I came here because I need to find Eleven, she’s a telekinetic and the only one who could help me close the gate and end this once and for all”

The room was silent. Even Billy was taken aback by the revelation. There was heavy breathing in the basement but you soldiered on,

“I - I’m tired of being their pawn, of killing innocent people” you paused, swallowing and shaking the tears from your eyes. “I - I’m tired of being a monster, I want to help, I need to help. This is my last option.” you breathed out, tears shimmering in your eyes. You started to nibble your bottom lip as you waited for a response - from anyone.

Jonathan was the first to speak, he reached out and placed his hand on your knee, “We’ll do everything we can to help you. We’re your friends okay?”

Nancy nodded, placing her hand on top of his, “We’ve done this once before … and we’ll do it again this time. For good”

You breathed out shakily, staring at the pair in front of you. For once in your life, you felt hope, you saw a ray of light that once could never be seen. But here you were, spilling your guts and secrets to people you’ve never met before and they were willing to help you. You gave them both a watery smile, “Friends? I - I don’t know what that means … “

“It means someone you can trust, someone you can count on”

You whipped your head around and saw Billy with a gentle smile on his face. He reached over and placed his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it with reassurance. You returned the smile and placed your hand on top of his. He could feel the warmth emitting from your palm as you stroked his hand with your thumb.

“Friends” you stated, hesitatingly testing out the word.

Billy nodded slowly. “Yeah, friends”

You turned to look down at Nancy and Jonathan who returned the same hopeful smile that Billy had.

You took a deep breath and spoke with conviction, your eyes flashing with determination, “Okay, let’s do this”

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

THE HOUSE, (part 2 of 3), a tale of Flocking Bay

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

THE HOUSE

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

7357 words

Written 1990

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan activity, Fiction, Art, Cosplay, Music, or any other thing is actively encouraged!

///////////////////////

Next, I began to check the walls for hidden panels or the like. The walls of the parlor, sitting room, and kitchen were smooth with elaborate flocked paper. The wainscots were all of solid, if elaborate, woodwork. That left the study, dining room, and library. I set eagerly to work. The paneled walls of the study proved depressingly solid.

I was delighted when I finally found the basement stair in the library. A bookcase camouflaged a hidden door with the spring catch concealed as one of the few knots visible anywhere in the wood of the house.

Flashlight in hand, I ventured down the short flight of stairs. The basement proved to be small and bare. It had mortared stone walls and a cement floor. There were no hiding places, even the space under the stairs was empty, no rats, no dust, and no cobwebs … Slowly I went back up the stairs to the library.

I put away my flashlight and went to the study to look at the land records again. The papers revealed that the house’s first buyer was George Oates. His brother and sole heir sold the house seven years later. His name was Harold.

As I am something of a bibliophile, I decided to give the house’s library a detailed look. I was more than pleasantly surprised. Not one book was published later than 1866. Many were far older. Some of the books went back to the 1400’s. Mr. Wickes was apparently somewhat dishonest, intellectually. He had signed and dated the flyleaf of each book, for example, “Hiram Wickes, acquir’d 1565.” Some of the dates went back to 1540 in books published from 1483 to 1497. He would have to have been over 300 years old, if the inscriptions were true.

Hiram was heavily into the occult. There was little that did not pertain to the various occult ‘sciences.’ Even the books in foreign tongues, and there were many, had illustrations that indicated that they belonged to this awesome collection of lore. The impression was that Hiram had read all or most of this collection. His marginal notes were in a wide range of languages, often not the language of the book in question. From scanning the shelves, I deduced that there were over twenty five hundred books in the library.

My near drenching of the day before had taught me that it was wise to take my car into town. Mrs. Alderman greeted me at the slightly shabby old counter that served the library for a check-out desk. “My goodness, young man, how did you get on when the power went out? I have a gas range, ‘cause you never can tell when, hereabouts, the power might go.”

“I’ve got gas where I’m staying, too,” I told her, “I made out okay.”

“Well,” she said knowingly, “the radio says it’ll be another two-three hours before we got power again. Why don’t you go sit by that window? It’ll give you light all morning.”

I thanked her and turned at once to the death certificates. Bingo! George Oates, his wife Wilfreda, daughters - Caroline and Charity, and son Harold (named for George’s brother in Boston), had all been declared legally dead, seven years having passed since their disappearance, and all reasonable attempts at contact having failed. Now, the reason for that malevolent plaque came into focus.

Turning to the letters, I started with the earliest. The Post Office had saved Hiram’s mail in the hope that it would yield some clue to his whereabouts. This practice was followed in the disappearance of all subsequent owners of the house. Hiram’s mail was of considerable interest to any who might know a bit of the occult and something of rare books, as I did. The first letter follows:

My Dear Hiram:

It is with the utmost concern that I read your last communication. You were always my most talented pupil and are a valued associate. I pray you, please, reconsider the rash course that you are now contemplating.

Remember, your copy of Alhazarad is not a good one. The edition of 1784 contains many minor lacunae. Before you attempt anything, consult also the Pnakotic Manuscripts and collate what you learn there with Von Junst.

I know that reading the Pnakotic Manuscripts is a difficult and time-consuming task. Never forget that the source of your present wealth and mine lies in those ancient pages. There is much wisdom there for those with the courage to seek. Everything must be checked against other knowledge.

To call upon Him Whose Name Must NOT be Uttered for so trivial a task is a sure way to serious mishap. Remember, your Alhazarad is incomplete!

In concern for your welfare,

I remain, Richten

At Darkhouse, Arkham, Mass.

Unfortunately, the authorities were unable to trace the mysterious Richten or his address. Arkham, Mass. is, of course well known to all scholars and bibliophiles as the home of Miskatonic University, with its astounding collection of rare books of occult lore.

I had never heard of the Pnakotic Manuscripts but the other items mentioned in the letter were familiar to me. Alhazarad could be none other than the author of the infamous Necronomicon. The 1784 edition survives only as a fragmentary copy in the vaults of Miskatonic University. Von Junst could only be the almost as infamous Black Book. This book also survives in only a few priceless copies. Two of the best ones lurked in the vaults of the rare book collection at Miskatonic. They were separate editions, published a century apart.

Another letter, about a week later than the first, was a bit more specific. Richten started in much the same vein as before but went on:

Calling so mighty a being for so trivial a task is absolutely insane. I know that you enjoy tidiness. Who does not? Yet He Whose Name Must NOT be Uttered is not a mere servant and can be disastrously literal, even when all else is done perfectly.

Binding Him, as you have, cannot please Him. What you have learned from the Necronomicon and the Pnakotic Manuscripts has enabled you to compel Him to bring you gold. The first time that He did was almost fatal. Remember, being able to compel is not the same as being master.

For your own safety, Do Not Do This!!!

Wishing you the best,

Your friend and former Master,

Richten

At Darkhouse, Arkham, Mass.

There were also, unfortunately, not translated, letters from Korea, China, India, the 0ttoman Empire, Germany, France, Morocco, and several places in South America. Apparently our Mr. Wickes had been something of a polyglot and did in fact read all of the languages of the books in his library.

It appeared that a careful search of the house, attic to basement, was in order. If there were any chance that I might find a copy of either the Necronomicon or the Black Book, I could turn a fine profit. Either book in almost any condition, was worth in far in excess of mere $45,000.00 that I had paid for the house.

Turning to the newspaper clippings, I found mostly stories of the disappearances of people who had bought the Wickes place. The George Oates family was only the first. They were not alone. The clippings gave some flesh to the legal death declarations. There was another detail to add to my list. No trace was ever found of the possessions of any person who vanished.

Electric wiring had been installed. Several times. It too had vanished without a trace. After each disappearance, the house was exactly as it had been when Hiram Wickes vanished. Even if the furniture and books were sold or even burned, everything always came back.

The Reverend Orville Olson piled all of Hiram’s books and furniture on the lawn and burned it all. He then exorcised the whole place of the “evil ghost of Hiram Wickes.” To prove that the evil was gone, he spent the night in the house. The burn scar on the lawn and the Reverend Olson both vanished. The furniture and books returned.

I made careful tracings of the strange gold coin in the file and made longhand copies of such of the letters as I could and included all of the oddments that I knew of Hiram Wickes and the Wickes house, and prepared the lot for mailing. I addressed it to Professor Gordon Wetherbee at Miskatonic University.

He was a sort ‘uncle’ to me. He and my father had been close friends since long before my birth. That friendship had been extended to me as I grew and was largely responsible for my love of books and learning. I did not know all or even a fraction of what ‘uncle’ Gordon knew or did but I trusted him absolutely.

I did know that his research had taken him all over the world. He knew more of the occult than any other man of my acquaintance.

One set of clippings caught my eye. “BOY GOES MAD!!” Curiosity piqued, I read on. In essence, the story was this:

It was a fine day in April, 1896. Willie Asphel, age 10, was in the mood to get into trouble. He sneaked off to the Wickes place to break windows. Apparently he missed the house with the first stone, as there was no crash of glass or thump of stone on board. He took precise aim and watched carefully where the stone went. Ever after, his hair was stark white, his eyes crossed, and even after he stopped raving, his mind was never fully normal. He demonstrated a talent for seeing into closed containers and the like.

He died of a brain hemorrhage at the age of fifteen.

The power which had failed last night, came back at 3:30 p.m. I felt a need to digest the tale of Reverend Olson and young Willie Asphel, so I left the library. I walked up the street in the sunlight. Cobbles could be seen here and there through old cracks and holes in the paving. Stepping around the occasional weed, I followed the sidewalk to the Post Office. There I mailed my letter to uncle Gordon.

Thoughtfully, I retraced my steps. My car awaited me. No sooner had I got into it than a gust of wind slammed the door. The impact caused the glove box door to fall open. Inside were five gold coins exactly like the one in the file

To say that I was stunned by this occurrence would have been an understatement. A breeze plucked at my right hand, almost as if it were guiding me to the gold. The moment that I took the gold in my hand, the breeze died away. Only then did I notice that my car windows were closed.

My first response was to say, “Thank you, whoever or whatever you may be.” I drove home slowly, mulling over the day’s events. The clouds roiled overhead like fighting dogs.

Once home, I got my flashlight and went straight to the attic. At the stairs, my light would not shine. Somehow, I must have left it on when I last put it away. Irritating.

I had lots of candles down in the kitchen. For a prize like the Necronomicon or the Black Book, I could search by candlelight. An obsession to find those books seized my spirit.

I hurried down to the kitchen and set up a candlestick, which I took back to the attic. The soft glow of the candlelight revealed the same boxes and trunks that I had seen before. There were still no dust or spider webs to be seen. I heard what sounded like a hundred rats on the floor below. A glance out an attic window showed that night had fallen. The ‘spectral brigade’ never started before dark.

The boxes and trunks contained the curios, mementos and journals of travels on six of the seven continents (only Antarctica was not represented.) Glancing through the journals revealed that although Hiram was meticulous at recording detail and observations, he was also quite secretive about the object of his searches and research. It was both fascinating and frustrating.

Some of the boxes contained disturbingly carved stones and other artifacts. Many of these were only disquieting to look at but a few were truly mind twisting. A number of the journals contained finely drawn sketches in ink of architecture that Escher would have loved, had it not caused actual nausea when studied too closely. Many of the drawings were of ruins but they still retained their otherworldly power. Their geometry was subtly skewed from any earthly construction. There was little else, aside from literally thousands of the above mentioned journals. Valuable to the right collector perhaps but not the precious books that I was seeking.

I tried the second floor next. Both bedrooms, the bath, and the large room that I had dubbed ‘the work room’ all proved to have no secret hiding places. If there were any hidden doors or concealed panels they defied me.

The ground floor was next. I started with the kitchen. The parlor got a once-over walls and ceiling. (I had done the floor when I searched for the basement.) The same was done with the dining room, sitting room, and study. Then it was the library’s turn.

Looking at the wall to wall, knee to ceiling, cases of books with their sliding ladders, I despaired of finishing my search that night. There were over twenty five hundred volumes on those shelves.

I stared at the sea of brown leather backs, some stamped with gold, and decided to start at the right of the door and work my way around the room. Each book had to be inspected to be sure that it was not concealing another book in innocent appearing binding. Many of them were valuable in their own right but none could compare with the Necronomicon or the Black Book.

I did not get far before I was too tired to continue. The books that I was seeking had waited for century and a third. They could wait until morning.

The next day, my inspection of the library resumed. Here, at least, Hiram had achieved order. The books were shelved by subject and author, regardless of language. There was precious little of outright fiction though many were obvious foolishness in the light of modern knowledge. At ten in the morning, I stopped, arms aching and eyes swimming. I was less than a quarter of the way through the herculean task.

<==Previous ~~ Next==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

#THE HOUSE #part 2 of 3 #Flocking Bay #Written by De Writer

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girlbookwrm · 5 years

Text

Avengers: Age of Art Movie? ART?? MOVIE

DAY ONE

the title for this chapter of the Mighty Pre-Endgame Rewatch comes from the fact that Joss Whedon apparently said, of Age of Ultron:

“I was trying to make a little art movie. Which is actually, a pretty shitty thing to do to a studio that gives you a lot of money.”

which??? ok?????

so we went into this looking for Joss Whedon’s Art Movie

It’s worth noting before we get into this that I’m a fan of a lot of things Joss Whedon has done over the years, as much as I give him crap sometimes, and actually, I don’t know that I hate this movie as much as is common. I enjoyed it more than I remember enjoying it in the past? I go back and forth. I saw it in theaters and was like “actually I like this it’s pretty ok” and then I saw it again like “OH NO THIS IS AWFUL” and then again like “OH NO IT’S EVEN WORSE THAN I REMEMBER” and now I’m watching it again like “actually......” and I think it’s that the quality is very. uneven?

it is also worth noting that it took us TWO DAYS to watch this because we kept having to pause the movie in order to GO OFF which meant that this 2 hour 22 minute movie took us like SIX HOURS to watch. at first it was just me and The Roommate @goteamwin but on Day Two the Gal Pal @pegasuschick joined us.

anyway on with the rewatch (day one)

I STILL MISS THE OLD MARVEL LOGO! SO MUCH!

So the opening shot of this movie is from the twins’ POV and this was the first point that we paused the movie to fully Go Off because goddamn

can you imagine how much better this battle scene would be from the twins’ pov?

like: there’s all these explosions and shaky cam and a monster roaring and you’re like “oh god is it aliens? it must be aliens? and these soldiers dying everywhere and the city is getting destroyed etc etc

and then you realize it’s not aliens, it’s not HYDRA, it’s not some terrible overpowered terrorists

it’s the Avengers.

now THAT would be an art film

anyway back to the rewatch

Steve Rogers: IT IS 2015, I AM NINETY SEVEN YEARS OLD AND I AM STILL FIGHTING NAZIS I AM T I R E D

this is all looking real fake it has not aged well and it wasn’t that great to start with

“they’re the avengers” he said, sounding so confused and so so tired

aaaaaand here we paused the movie AGAIN to talk for twenty minutes, mostly about how if this whole “”’”art movie”’’’’’’’ had been shot from the Twins perspective, that would have been a better set up for Civil War and also super interesting

“We are here to help” why is the Iron Legion speaking Very American English in an eastern? european? city

Old Man Dad Clint

there’s two weirdly different movies happening here and they do not sit well together: like, a dark spooky serious one and a quippy Joss Whedon action movie

and don’t get me wrong, one of my favorite things about Joss Whedon is how he uses humor to really give his sad moments Extra Punch he’s a master of that

but this is just jarring

“please be a secret door please be a secret door” followed by the world’s tiniest and most adorable “~yay~” is the most endearing thing Tony has ever done in his life I would die for him

The Problem Is Not Brucetasha.

THE PROBLEM is that the BruceTasha dynamic doesn’t just come out of left field, it comes from a different sport entirely. it comes from another planet.

I think there’s potential for an interesting dynamic here but we get ZERO buildup to it

like in the last movie, Natasha is scared of the Hulk, like, literally shaking in shock TERRIFIED of the Hulk, but we see nothing of her deciding to run directly at the thing that scares her most

and we get ZERO explanation of like -- Natasha likes Bruce AND the Hulk, and Bruce AND the Hulk both like Natasha and that’s an interesting dynamic too, but we get NONE OF THAT

it’s very frustrating

also, where does Wanda’s horror movie aesthetic go? is it the same place her accent goes?

Tony’s dream sequence is... p badly shot, given that it’s his driving motivation for THE REST OF THE SERIES

Me: this is weirdly shot, right?

The Roommate, A Professional: Yes. *in a very fancy voice:* ~From a cinematic perspective~

Me: *starts cracking up*

The Roommate: But seriously, they’ve gone for a weirdly wide angle in this very emotional moment and it would make more sense to do tight shots here, but--

Me: *still cracking up*

The Roommate: really?

Me: ~from a cinematic perspective~ trolololol

AND LITERALLY HERE IS WHERE WE GET THE TITLE CARD. THAT’S HOW LONG, SPIRITUALLY, THIS OPENING IS.

Why was Bruce NOT expecting a Code Green? like? It’s HYDRA, of COURSE they’re gonna pull out all the stops??

We get like two minutes of Thor&Steve&Tony being bros, for the purpose of exposition here, and then the party sequence, and literally the rest of the movie is them all arguing with each other

and we stopped the movie again to talk for ten minutes about how much more Impactful AVENGERS: CIVIL WAR would be if we had even one (1) movie of the Avengers actually being a team

this is exactly why it took us two days to watch this movie

“Uh, actually, he's the boss. I just pay for everything, and design everything and make everyone look cooler.”

And again, we stopped the movie (seriously, it’s our own fault this took so long to watch) because LET’S UNPACK THIS

TONY PAYS FOR EVERYTHING?

TONY MAKES ALL THEIR SHIT?

TONY DOES THEIR DESIGN WORK?

AND LET US NOT FORGET THAT SHIELD RECENTLY FELL APART

WHICH MEANS THAT THIS IS STARK INDUSTRIES PRESENTS: the avengers

and that is A L A R M I N G

legally speaking

and also morally speaking

like goddamn.

no wonder ppl freak out about it? let’s jump on THAT for CW

(also, when we recapped this for the Gal Pal’s benefit on Day Two, she pointed out that Tony puts his name on everything and he probably got that from his daddy -- like in TFA, they’re doing this experiment for the Army but LITERALLY EVERY PIECE OF EQUIPMENT has the Stark Industries tag on it

Steve probably has the SI logo tattooed on his ass

he doesn’t know it

tony knows it

and wishes he didn’t)

all that aside, this is an A+ On Point Steve and i Strongly Disagree with anyone who says that Joss Whedon doesn’t get Steve Rogers.

Like, we very clearly get three distinct Steves in this movie -- we get Captain America, Captain Rogers, and Steve, and they’re all a little different but they’re also all perfectly executed and they’re all STEVE. eg:

the look that he gives Maria, like english please and then after her explanation he says “well they’re going to show up again.” - Captain Rogers.

“Right. What kind of monster would let a German scientist experiment on them to protect their country” - Steve

“They are.” - Captain America

let’s just. let’s just acknowledge that Thanos had a stone. in his possession. and he gave it away. to L O K I.

“I'm going to live forever”

ah geeze he actually is tho

*CLINT FEELS*

They talk about AI like it’s this Great Forbidden Thing, and the Roommate looks at me with the Tiredest Eyes

Everyone is working on artificial intelligence, she says.

e v e r y o n e

seriously “the man was not meant to meddle medley” is a very impressive tongue twister that Tony definitely practiced in the mirror that morning

but it’s also nonsense

the military, corporations, academia, everyone -- everyone is working on AI.

Ultron: What is this. What is this, please.

The Roommate: Me. Every morning.

Also, it’s worth noting that when Ultron goes through all the files on the Avengers and shit, he looks at Steve AT LEAST twice.

The Roommate: To be fair, so would I.

RIGHT RHODES IS THE REAL HERO OF THIS FILM

“Where are the ladies,” said Maria Hill, a Known Lesbian.

Sam and Steve’s whole everything is A+ Great, as usual

Rhodey’s face after everyone laughs at the “Boom, you looking for this” line is just

*kissy chef fingers*

and then this happens

the “flirting”

this is the weirdest “flirting” i have ever seen

it’s like the uncanny valley of cute flirting

it’s like they’re both actors pretending to be characters who are acting out something they’ve only ever seen in film

why is it like this

“What Are Your Intentions Towards My Daughter?” - Steve Rogers

no I kid

Captain America said that

Steve said “as maybe the world’s leading authority on “waiting too long”, don’t.”

and then suddenly they’re all teens hanging out in their dad’s basement

honestly this scene is the best scene in the movie, possibly the franchise, and it’s well worth all the bullshit we’ve put up with so far.

let’s also take a moment to pour one out for both Steve and Thor’s #looks in this scene because

goddamn

Steve and that blue button down

Thor and his hoe v-neck + pop collar maroon jacket

much fashion very hnnnngh

like it takes WORK to make these two look better with their shirts ON but you did it, AoU costume department. You Did It.

Also, James Spader as Ultron is just

i love it

gurl u r LEAKING

u CHOSE this body

u could have taken any iron legion body, you probably could’ve taken a SUIT if you wanted but instead you’re here in this janky ass leaking melty faced body with wires hanging every which way and the arms and legs on backwards

you are such a drama queen

truly his father’s son

so when Tony pulls out JARVIS’ broken corpse, how were they all supposed to know this was JARVIS? do they all get to meet Jarvis at some point? like at what point was Captain America introduced to the holograph representation of JARVIS’ “body” that he just IMMEDIATELY knows that this abstract yellow humpty dumpty is JARVIS

Team Dr. Cho Was Underutilized 2k15

Tony laughing because he’s about to be in so much trouble is very much a #mood

We can bust arms dealers all the live long day, but, that up there? That's...that's the end game.

I’m just going to present this bad phone picture of my notes because I feel like it does a better job summing up how I feel about this line:

remember when Wanda had an accent?

I’d say “good times” but I’m not sure they really were

seriously the Maximoffs have a great origin story this should’ve been theirs and Clint’s movie that would’ve been better

God Bless The AoU Costume Department

I have no idea what happened in this scene because of Steve’s smedium shirt

and that said he has to compete, visually, with Cobie Smulders in a sheath dress, and he does so with effortless grace

*distinguished golf clapping*

I actually really like the set up of Wakanda and Vibranium here it’s just nice and it gives all the background we need without really feeling like exposition and it reveals character dynamic between steve and tony it’s just nice is all

SALVAGE YARD AFRICAN COAST

Andy Serkis giving 112% AS USUAL

So Ultron steps into this scene like

and tbh it is a sexy leg good work Ultron

“I’M NOT MY DAD” -Ultron, definitely in Denial

Pietro talking to Tony in this scene like Tony was personally there when the bomb blew up his family and almost killed him and his sister

he wasn’t

u r drax in this scenario, and Tony is Ronan

he doesn’t remember ur family, dude

“pretending you could live without a war”

are we just going to ignore that Ultron gets inside Steve’s head right here right now and then Wanda exacerbates that 200%

and Steve just decides “yup that sounds right”

“i guess I’ll just be at war for the rest of my unnaturally long long life”

is anyone? going to talk about that? bring it up to him maybe?

no?

coooooool coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool

i just ~love~ (and by love i mean HATE) that natasha romanoff (A SPY) decided to upgrade her suit (HER BLACK STEALTH SUIT) with glowing (GLOWING!) stripes

much stealth very in character wow

(negative 200 points costume department what the hell)

pietro don’t hit senior citizens that’s rude

these dreams are actually totally fascinating and I really like them don’t @ me they’re great

“I Am Mighty.”

“only the breakable ones. You are made of marble”

“We can go home. Imagine it”

aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“Natasha, I could really use a lullaby”

natasha isn’t here right now please leave a message after the beepbeep

this is such a fucking nightmare, could be a callback to that opening fight scene IF IT SUCKED LESS

Tony. Your green son has a special need. maybe instead of trying to turn him back into Bruce, you should try to accommodate his needs. because he’s special.

Clint MacDonald Had A Farm

“These are... Smaller agents.”

“Sorry For Barging In.”

Captain America is here from the 40s and Ready To Apologize

Thor’s Extremely Dramatic Exit

Steve: looks at the house

(very softly in the background, Peggy’s “we can go home.”)

The Roommate: nuuuuuuuuuuuuuu steve don’t think thaaaaaaaat

I honestly love Old Dad Clint. *shrug* sorry not sorry

and now we’re here. at That Scene.

YOU KNOW WHICH ONE.

it makes no FUCKING sense for EITHER OF THEM to be having THIS CONVERSATION at THIS TIME. SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK.

Honestly, the only way this makes sense is if Bruce and Nat are both ace af and think the other one is allo af

just two hopeless asexual babies, adorably in love with each other

both of them awkwardly being like “BUT. YOU WANT THE SEX. RIGHT?”

and neither of them realizing that the other one also does not want the sex

that’s the only way the scene makes any kind of sense. If Natasha is putting on a performance and Bruce is too and neither of them realize that the other is putting on a performance

BUT EVEN THAT DOES NOT EXPLAIN WHY NATASHA FEELS THE NEED TO BRING UP HER UTERUS

THERE’S NO NEED FOR IT IN THIS CONVERSATION

AND THE WAY SHE BRINGS IT UP IS B I Z A R R E

and when i saw it in theaters, I was like “oh clearly this scene is missing some important dialogue that clarifies that Nat doesn’t mean she’s a monster for not being able to have kids.

BUT I WAS WRONG.

UGH ANYWAY MOVING ON.

god bless the AoU costume department for Steve in a Smedium shirt and Dad Jeans. A+ work i can almost forgive you for putting glowing neon on Nat’s stealth suit

but honestly the whole rest of this movie is worth it this one interaction:

Tony: Isn't that the mission? Isn't that the "why" we fight, so we can end the fight, so we get to go home?

Steve:

Captain America: *externally* something something end a war something something people die something something

Steve: *internally* I SWEAR TO FUCK IF ONE MORE PERSON TELLS ME THEY WANT TO GO HOME, IMMA MCFREAKING LOSE IT.

YOU WANT TO GO HOME?? Y O U WANT TO GO HOME??? B I T C H

oh hey Tony ur dad is here

“watched my friends die” ok but

a) are you and Steve friends?

b) if this has been eating at you, why wasn’t it shot better ~from a cinematic perspective~ and why don’t we get more of you being haunted by it and less of you talking about reinstating prima nocta

Actually this is a good time to talk for a hot second about Why We Don’t Hate AoU As Much As Some:

it’s very hard to judge AoU as a standalone film

because a lot of the things it does best are not standalone

it does a good job setting the stage for Civil War

it does a good job foreshadowing Infinity War and Endgame

and on that note, it’s actually hard to judge it without having seen Endgame

it does a BAD job setting up the Avengers as a cohesive unit that works well together

it does a BAD job building the BruceNat dynamic

it does a BAD job making us believe that the Avengers are actually friends and not just coworkers who tolerate each other and sometimes hang out and drunkenly try to pick up thor’s hammer

that isn’t friendship, actually. you know what friendship is? look at Steve and Sam talking about Important Things That Matter, look at Tony and Rhodes’ dynamic. those are friendships.

anyway

The Roommate says it feels like AoU skipped some steps. Like, Avengers (2012) brought us in at the ground floor of this building and then we got shoved into one of those really fast elevators and dumped directly into some game changer meeting happening on floor 44 and then it kicked us directly out the window to our deaths

i’m maybe elaborating slightly upon what she said

the point is that AoU is not a good movie because it’s not a good standalone movie

the character dynamics aren’t Bad or Wrong they’re just not properly built up to.

It feels like we missed a movie

maybe there’s an alternate universe where we got an Avengers 2 that made sense, and this is actually Avengers 3

maybe we just need to find Joss Whedon’s secret file of fanfiction and then everything that happened in this movie will make sense

ALL THAT SAID, THIS IS WHERE WE STOPPED THE MOVIE ON DAY ONE AND MY FINGERS ARE TIRED SO THIS IS WHERE I’M STOPPING TOO. AGE OF ART MOVIE DAY 2 WILL BE UP WHEN I FIND THE ENERGY TO DO THAT.

#the mighty pre endgame rewatch #age of ultron #avengers

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ifeveristoday · 5 years

Text

Buffy Summers’s Diary (X)

So my follower count jumped up by a lot since I posted about the Boom!verse, so I’d like to say hey. I will keep thinking and posting about the Boom!verse because I really enjoy it. Hopefully, my recaps/reactions continue to be amusing/useful to you guys.

That said, this side blog is mainly for me to post first drafts of fic and reblog all! the! gif sets! about Buffy and co. And she’s my favorite so I will not tolerate Buffy Summers slander. But I also won’t shit over the other characters, even the ones I’m not as fond of, because again - they’re someone’s favorite. I’m just here to be snarky and occasionally thoughtful.

On with the latest installment of my pastiche!

Eating dinner at Tara’s was always an experience. Candles lit, the warm scent of sandalwood in the air – I missed those nights when I was invited over for dinner at her and Willow’s place. Tara had a way of making any place feel like a home – lived in and cozy.

I didn’t want to arrive empty handed, especially after such a long time of not seeing her. It was mostly out of guilt – it was hard to reconcile the idea of Willow, my best friend versus the woman who had recklessly lied and imploded her relationship with Tara. Dawn hadn’t been right when she accused me of choosing sides, but I hadn’t exactly done the best job of supporting Tara, either.

After mindlessly wandering the aisles of the specialty grocery store -ugh, I know. So LA. I found a jar of a locally farmed honey. It was packed in a pretty glass jar and there was a handwritten label pasted on it. I remembered the fully stocked cabinet of tea in Tara’s home – the honey would go perfectly with it.

Dawn opened the door when I knocked. ‘You came,’ she said, with some surprise.

‘I said I would.’

I handed her the jar. ‘Where’s Tara?’

‘In the kitchen. She’s finishing the last dish.’

It smelled delicious, garlic and buttery and rich. I went into the kitchen, where Tara was frowning at something on the stove.

‘Can I help?’

She jumped slightly. ‘Oh hey, Buffy.’ She smiled, and every worry I had that she would resent me faded away. ‘I’m just steaming this broccoli. I’m doing vegetarian tonight, is that okay? I could make you some chicken – I would just have to defrost it.’

‘No, it’s fine. Vegetarian actually sounds really good. I’ve been eating nothing but junk at work this whole week. It’s like we’re sponsored by Big Carb.’

She grinned. ‘Well, I made eggplant lasagna and tofu salad. The broccoli is just extra veggies. Dawnie took care of dessert.’

‘She did?’

Tara laughed. ‘She bought it from the bakery down the street. It’s safe.’

‘Oh, thank God.’

‘I heard that,’ Dawn called from the living room. ‘You’re just not ready for my flavor combinations.’

‘You have the palate of a six-year-old.’

‘I wouldn’t say that. I would say at least eight,’ Tara mused.

‘Tara,’ Dawn protested.

‘Dawnie,’ she teased back. ‘And Buffy, you can just sit, I’m all good here.’

‘So how’s everything going at the studio?’ I stirred around my salad, picking up crunchy noodles.

Tara brightened. ‘Really good. I’m doing a workshop for a women’s shelter – it’s open to the general public too. It’s about surviving a fundamentalist cult.’

‘Really? That sounds cool. I wonder if Kendra would be interested in that – I’ll email her tonight.’

‘That would be great publicity. I’ll let Lily know – poor thing is running that shelter all by herself, I’m sure extra attention would bring in extra money.’

‘I can’t promise anything,’ I said, ‘but I’ll do my best to pitch the idea.’

‘Oh, I know. I still appreciate it, though. I’m also doing a freelance job, so I’ll have some funds to pass on to the shelter.’

‘What’s the freelance gig?’ Dawn asked.

‘I’m doing a decorating job – it’s only one office, so it’s not too complicated. It’s for a law firm.’

Small bells began to sound in my head.

‘Which law firm?’

‘That big one downtown. Wolfe, Ram and Hurt.’

The bells became a noisy choir. I swallowed, not tasting the sesame dressing.

‘For who?’

‘Uh, let me think. Ah, a Mr. Delaney?’

Dawn whipped her head around to stare at me. ‘Delaney? Isn’t that..’

‘Angel. You’re decorating Liam Delaney’s office?’

‘That’s it,’ Tara said. ‘Yes. He set up the appointment last week. Actually, his assistant did, then he called to confirm.’

‘Angel’s our old neighbor. And Buffy had a big crush on him,’ Dawn announced.

‘Thanks, Dawn.’ I gritted my teeth. ‘And for the record, it was not a big crush. He was my best friend’s older brother.’

Tara nodded in understanding. ‘Well, while he’s not my preference, he sounded pretty hot on the phone.’

‘Eh,’ Dawn shrugged. ‘He’s all right if you like tall, brooding guys. And jocks.’

‘Angel’s not a jock.’

‘Yeah he was. He was on the football team!’

‘For one season. He quit and joined the art club.’

‘He did? Didn’t see that on a plaque at Hemery. Anyway, Buffy’s type is a jock.’

‘No it isn’t.’

Dawn rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, with the exception of Billy, every boyfriend you had in high school was a jock. Then there was Riley,’ her mouth twisted with distaste. ‘I guess that was more work-related, though.’

‘They had other interests. I have other interests. This is a slander against athletes. You’re an athlete.’

‘Touche. So have you talked to him?’

‘We met for coffee. Tara, this lasagna is awesome.’

‘I can give you the recipe after,’ Tara offered. ‘It’s pretty easy to make.’

‘Real smooth, Buffy. Way to be all avoidy.’ Dawn snorted.

‘Liam’s fine,’ I stressed. ‘He’s dating my co-worker. We’re acquaintances. Anyway, it’s none of your business.’

‘He’s dating? Oh. That’s a surprise. I heard from Mom he was kind of a wreck the last time she saw him.’

‘Yes, he’s dating. And not interested in me, because I am also not interested in him.’

‘Sure,’ Dawn said, unconvinced. ‘So the blushing is just a side effect.’

Tara stepped in before I threw my water at Dawn’s head. ‘I believe you, Buffy. And there is nothing wrong with enjoying your own company. Dating can be rough.’

‘There was another guy,’ I said. ‘Something is going on with him – but he’ll probably have to leave soon. He mentioned he had to renew his work visa.’

‘What? You didn’t tell me this!’

‘I didn’t know I had to, seeing how you’re a regular Harriet the spy,’ I said. ‘Like I said, it’s something, but I’m not sure. He was interested, but Liam kind of ruined it.’

Dawn shook his head. ‘It’s so weird hearing you call him that. I think I was twelve when I found out his real first name.’

‘It’s not like it was my personal nickname for him – his family called him that. Kathy would only use his full name when she was mad at him.’

‘Sounds like we’ve got a lot of catching up to do,’ Tara said. She stood up. ‘Help me clear up the plates? And Dawnie, if you can go get the dessert? It’s in the fridge.’

‘Thanks for the save,’ I murmured so Dawn couldn’t hear. ‘Dawn’s super intense with secrets, especially when she thinks I’m keeping something from her.’

Tara smiled gently. ‘I get it. My cousin and I used to be that close too. I kind of envy that bond you two have.’

I shook my head. ‘You’ve been a better older sister to her than I have – the last couple of years….’ I trailed off. ‘Tara, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. It wasn’t right.’

She reached over and squeezed my shoulder. ‘I’m not mad at you, Buffy. I never was. I’m happy you’re here tonight. Don’t be a stranger, you can come around anytime.’

Her eyes sparkled. ‘Do you want me to run recon on Mr. Delaney?’

I laughed. ‘That’s sweet of you to offer, but I think the less I know about him, the better off I’ll be. He’s moved on with his life and I’m trying to do that too. It just kind of threw me – like, I was seventeen again and hearing about him eloping. It wasn’t anything then, and it’s not anything now.’

‘If you’re sure.’ Tara looked at me solemnly.

‘One hundred percent. Besides, there’s the matter of William,’ I said. ‘He’s pretty charming. In an annoying, cocky way.’

Tara raised an eyebrow. ‘William? Do tell.’

‘What about William?’ Dawn entered with a plate of cookies, each one dusted with powdered sugar. ‘Also, who’s William?’

‘The other guy. William Pratt. Also known as –’

‘Spike Pratt?’ Dawn interrupted excitedly. ‘The author?’

‘You know him?’

‘Yeah, his novels are the best to read on long flights. I can’t believe you’re dating him.’

‘We’re not. We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s cooled off. Liam told me to stay away from him, said he was a womanizing playboy.’

‘Oh right, because Angel was a saint,’ Dawn said dismissively. ‘There were always girls going in and out of his house.’

‘Yes, but I know-knew him better than I do William. And people should have second chances. He’s been very respectful with me.’

‘Pe-people can change,’ Tara said. She bit her lip. ‘Sometimes not for the better.’

‘Right,’ Dawn said quickly. ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater, I say.’ She looked at me sharply. ‘Maybe you should stay away from him.’

‘The Summers’s curse is in full effect, nothing is going to happen. And not everyone is going to turn out like Riley. He seems to be happily married now.’

‘Yeah, well if karma was real,’ Dawn said. ‘I just don’t want you to get hurt again.’

I couldn’t help it. I pulled her into a hug. ‘I know. And I love you for that. But I’m a big girl and …I do what I want.’

She patted my back. ‘Yeah, but I call dibs on I told you so later.’

‘I expect nothing less.’

‘Boys are dumb,’ Tara said lightly. ‘That doesn’t really change with age.’ She plucked a cookie off the plate and offered it to me.

‘They really are,’ I sighed. I bit into the crumbly softness, the sugar dusting my mouth. ‘But I’m tired of talking about me. What else is going on in your life?’

Tara looked down bashfully. ‘Well, I think I’m going to adopt a cat, and I finally finished all the seasons of the X-Files, work is going great, Dawnie is helping me with the apps…’

‘What apps?’

‘Dating apps,’ Dawn said. ‘I let Tara see my profile and then set her up with her own account.’

‘You’re on dating apps?’

‘Uh yeah. Everyone is on dating apps, no one meets in the wild anymore,’ Dawn said. ‘Besides, it’s fun.’

‘But – they’re strangers. They could be anyone. Dangerous anyones.’

‘I’m not stupid, I have filters in place. You’re just paranoid because of what happened with Xander.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Because Xander got codfished. Multiple times. One of them turned out to be an escaped convict.’

‘Catfished,’ Dawn said exasperatedly. ‘And he met Anya on an app. She was nice. Sort of.’

‘I’ve gone on a few dates,’ Tara said. ‘All very nice women. No serial killers in the lot.’

‘It’s perfectly safe, Buffy. Look, I just bypass all the men who have lots of gym pictures, hiking pictures, and golfing pictures. Oh, and if they quote Borat.’

‘That’s like a third of LA. Who’s even left?’

‘Nice guys, I swear. And sometimes,’ Dawn shifted in her seat, ‘it’s not about the dates.’

Tara coughed. ‘I have a book club you could join, Buffy. If you want to meet nice people.’

Objectively, I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised. Dawn was twenty-four years old, I didn’t think she was at home knitting tea cozies. But still. She was my baby sister.

‘I think I need to see your feed.’

‘No way. You have judgment face. You’re just going to say mean stuff about all of them.’

‘I will not,’ I lied. ‘If they’re as nice as you say.’

‘Not in a million years. You can make your own profile.’

‘Ugh. No thank you. I have to have a social media presence for work and it makes me want to burn down the internet.’

‘It’s okay as long as you don’t read the comments. Or check the grammar,’ Tara said helpfully. ‘People generally mean well.’

‘That hasn’t really been my experience. I’ll just have to live vicariously through you two.’

‘Here’s what I’m thinking – if this something doesn’t work out with Spike – you could try the app. Maybe find a nice Joe Normal.’ Dawn shrugged. ‘It’s really not a big deal.’

‘I’ll have to get back to you on that. Can you email me the lasagna recipe, Tara?’

‘Of course. Take some cookies home, there’s too much for me to eat by myself.’

She walked us to her hallway and hugged us both. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Dawnie. And you,’ she punched my shoulder playfully. ‘You are always welcome to stop by. You’re family.’

I was overwhelmed. ‘Thanks, Tara. I’ll let you know about that article about the shelter. I could volunteer at the very least.’

‘I’d like that. Lily would like it too, I’m sure.’

‘Tara’s doing really well, isn’t she?’

Dawn nodded. ‘She is. I think she’s moved on.’

‘That’s good. I’m happy for her.’

‘But…’ Dawn said. ‘You have that look on your face.’

‘I thought she and Willow would have made it. After Xander and Anya broke up, they were supposed to be the rock solid couple. I guess that was selfish of me.’

‘Well, you know what I think about Willow. Tara might have forgiven her, but I haven’t. And I don’t like Kennedy.’

‘She’s an acquired taste. And it doesn’t matter what we think – Willow loves her. She sees something in her that is valuable.’

‘She calls you a gringa idiota behind your back, you know.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah. She doesn’t know that I know Spanish.’

‘I just have to remember that Willow loves her. That’s all that matters.’ I clenched my fist. ‘She’s a valuable, worthy person.’

‘If you say so,’ Dawn said doubtfully. ‘I think she’s a rebound and both of them deserve better.’

‘Yeah, but I can’t tell Will that. It’s her life.’

‘Maybe you could just hint at it? Are you still doing those weekend brunches?’

‘Yeah. We have to schedule one soon, she’s been really busy with wedding planning. Do you want to come?’

‘I’ll pass. I have plans for the weekend.’

‘Do they involve sketchy app guys?’

‘Maybe.’

‘You’re being safe right? Mom gave you the talk?’

Dawn grimaced. ‘Yes, and the book and the PowerPoint. Relax, Buffy. I know what I’m doing.’

‘Will you text me when you leave at least? And when you’re on your way home?’

‘Okay. Anything else, Mom?’

‘Mom would have given you Mace to put in your purse – she did, didn’t she?’

‘Yep. It’s millennial pink.’

‘Then we’re good.’

previous entry | next entry

#Buffy Summer’s Diary

#Buffy Summers's Diary #buffy fic #btvs #buffy summers #dawn summers #tara maclay #girl gang girl gang #my fic

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phoenotopia · 6 years

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2018 July Update

Wow! End of July already? (need a new opener)

I've been keeping up a steady work flow. I'd hope to be done with Chapter 2 entirely by end of July, but we've only managed "mostly done" status. Similar to Chapter 1, Chapter 2 has experienced a HUGE bloat in the number of levels. The original flash game’s Ch 2 counted at around ~40 level files. In the reboot, the current level file count sits at ~130 for Ch 2.

One driving force behind the increase has to do with filling the world out now that the player can freely roam the map. Another driving force is that I'm taking the time to design better quests and story lines. Here's a look at how one of the quests have changed.

The New Getting the Bombs Quest

In the original quest, the player only needs to ask Lisa about Adar, and they will be taught the location of Adar's house. They then visit Adar's house and retrieve the bombs from the cave by his house. Viola - Bomb Get!

(Adar’s house in the old flash game)

(visit Adar’s house immediately if you’re inclined)

(The new Adar's house, now locked down. Craters and half-destroyed dummies show that Adar did his research and he did it often)

In the reboot, the player can immediately visit Adar's house upon reaching the second landmass without having yet met Lisa. However, they'll find that Adar has secured his house with a strong lock.

When the player does meet Lisa, they can inquire about Adar's locked door, wherein Lisa will introduce them to Garnet. Garnet is a new character who runs a babysitting service. And Garnet agrees to help the player on the condition that the player babysit her kids.

(If GIF doesn’t work, View on IMGUR)

And the kids want to play hide-and-seek! Since the town is bigger, having the player comb the town looking for the hiding kids serves as a useful vehicle to introduce the player to some of the town's more hidden qualities. Each kid will also give an optional hint about the location of the next kid should the player get stuck. It's also a nice homage to the hide-and-seek kids from Breath of Fire 3 (one of my favorite JRPGs!)

Garnet conveniently returns just as the player finds all the kids. Her task complete, the player is now free to explore Adar's house, claim the bombs, and even read his diary!

The "New" New Second Dungeon

About a year or two ago, I had redesigned the 2nd dungeon (yay!). But then in the course of this game's long development, I had gotten better at level design, and I realized that the new 2nd dungeon was now not up to par (dang!). Which is why, in the past month, I have re-gutted and redesigned the dungeon again (uh yay... again).

It was too unfocused. I would say unfocused level design heavily plagues the original flash game as well. For example, let's study this odd magnet puzzle from the flash game.

The magnet is continually on, and pulls the key up and out of reach. The player hits the magnet switch which temporarily turns the magnet off. The key drops, but is impeded by 3 platforms, each one disabled by one of the other 3 switches. If the player doesn't disable the platforms in the correct order, time runs out, the magnet reactivates, and the key is kept out of reach.

While I like the idea and potential behind the magnet puzzle, there wasn't a ramp-up to it, nor was its potential explored fully. It first occurs in the 2nd dungeon once. Then it occurs once more in the 3rd dungeon. Spaced that far apart, the player is likely to have forgotten about the magnet puzzle mechanic, and have to relearn how it works in the 3rd dungeon.

If I were to do it over, all the magnet puzzles would be contained to one dungeon - adding to that dungeon's unique flavor. And there would be a simpler introductory magnet puzzle serving as a ramp-up.

The new philosophy I take into designing dungeons is probably best described by Mark Brown's video on Mario 3D World's Level Design (LINK).

Of course, dungeons are not always linear affairs. Some are more open, and thus I can't always enforce this principle. There are also fringe puzzle or challenge ideas that are too difficult or out there to fit well in the main dungeon path.

Luckily, with the traversable map and more open nature of the game, those ideas can still make it into the game as optional challenges.

(If you loved the arrows and ladders section of the tower level, you'll love jumping between wooden poles and dodging arrows - luckily, this area is optional)

New Music

This update was lacking in greenery, so here's a picture of Thomas's house from Ch 3. Thomas and Fran will both have new unique themes. Will has already scored one of the two themes, though who gets which theme won't be determined until we're further along in development. Give it a listen HERE!

Lastly, we have some lovely new fan art. This one was crafted by Freya Marshall! Thank you Freya!

That’s all for now! The next update will come at the end of September.

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jhope-seok · 6 years

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chiaroscuro | Part 2

chi·a·ro·scu·ro (n.) /kyärəˈsk(y)o͝orō/: an effect of contrasted light and shadow (used in art); Italian, from chiaro light + oscuro dark

Disclaimer: All of the things mentioned in this story are all works of fiction and have been made up by me, the author. I did not intend to make anything based on real life, and any coincidences to real life are purely coincidences.

AU/Genre: Mafia x Cop AU // Fluff, possible smut in future chapters

Warnings: mentions of weapons and drugs

Members: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Taehyung, Junmyeon, Yoongi, and Jennie [she hasn’t been mentioned by name yet, but she is one of the other people on the narcotics unit])

Length: 1,646 words

Masterlist | <previous : next>

“Jeon, come see me in my office. Now.” A voice sounds through the phone on his desk. Jungkook stares at his phone in shocked silence after the voice cuts out. The young officer’s thoughts go haywire as he tries to think of anything that he could have done to deserve such a harsh tone from his captain. He hadn’t had anything go wrong with any of the traffic stops he’d done in the last three months, had no people call him to court for wrongful tickets, had no write-ups, had been following the rule book to the T, and he struggles to come up with a reason why his captain would sound so angry. Nonetheless, he stands anxiously from his desk and walks as calmly as he can into his superior’s office.

“Ah, Jeon.” His captain looks up at him from his computer screen. “Please. Sit.” He waves with a hand at the chair in front of his desk.

Jungkook gulps down the lump in his throat and tries to hide how his hands shake as he sits down across from the elder man.

“So,” his captain starts, voice strict and succinct. But, when his eyes finally make contact with Jungkook’s he cracks into a smile, letting out a boisterous laugh. “No need to look so worried Jeon, this is actually good news.”

“Good news, sir?” Jungkook does his best to keep his voice from wavering, but his voice cracks on the ‘r’ of 'sir' and his captain lets out a hearty laugh with a loud smack of his hand on the desk in front of him.

“Absolutely! I just got word from the narcotics unit that there is an opening. Another officer unfortunately got shot in the back and the doctors said the probability of him walking again is slim to none. Sad story, honestly." His captain shakes his head, eyes cast down to the file in front of him, most likely containing the information of the new position. "Such a rare chance shot. He will recover, but he’ll probably be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life...stuck doing desk work. So obviously, there is a need for a field replacement. And the name of the person I’d like to offer up to take his spot is yours, Jeon.”

Jungkook’s head spins at the sudden news. He had heard from fellow officers of the tragedy that happened in the narcotics unit. He remembers the chaos in the station when the news came around that an officer had been shot on duty. It was utter madness trying to get everyone to focus back on their work. But, never would he have imagined that it would have led to an opportunity for him. They all thought he was going to recover. Then again, the more Jungkook thinks about it the more he realizes he didn't really have much information about the incident to begin with.

"Captain," his voice is raspy and he swallows hard to alleviate the dryness in his throat. "I am greatly honored to be offered this position. I will do my best to do you and this precinct proud."

His captain stands, adjusting his belt, "Excellent! I believe you will do this position justice. Now, Jeon, I must warn you. It's a known fact that there is a lot of corruption that can't be stopped in narcotics. Promise me to keep your hand out of the pot for as long as you can."

Jungkook stands, back straight as if he were back in his academy days. "Absolutely, sir. You can count on me."

His captain offers his hand, to which Jungkook gives it a firm shake. "Alright, Jeon. Report to Lieutenant Kim down in narcotics and he'll fill you in on everything that's been going on."

"Thank you, Captain. I won't let you down."

The rest of the day passes by in blur. Lieutenant Kim Junmyeon seems more strict than the stories he's heard about the man, but he gets the feeling he's putting on the act because Jungkook is new meat on his team. Junmyeon shows him to his new desk, and introduces him to the other members of the team. He's surprised by the bright faces that occupy the other desks around him and tries his best to remember all the names of his new coworkers.

When they have their first team meeting to catch him up to speed, he's delighted to find out he's going to be working most closely with a man who seems to be around his age, and the friendliest looking out of them all. "Jeon, you're going to be partnered with Kim, he'll show you the ropes, get you caught up on the cases he's working on."

The man to his right gives him a pat on the back, "Welcome to the crew, man. You're not the same as my old partner, but I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

"Thanks," Jungkook mutters, unsure of how he's meant to feel at the man's words. He tries to remember his name from the introductions earlier. "It’s Kim....Taehyung, right?"

"Yep!" The sandy blonde haired man gives him a huge smile. "The one and only. You can just call me Taehyung. No need for formalities if we’re going to be partners."

“Ah,” Jungkook bows slightly. “It’s nice to meet you. I look forward to learning from and working with you.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Junmyeon’s voice brings their attention back to the front. “Jeon is going to be with us for the time being, as it looks like Song won’t be able to work in the field again. So treat him like he’s one of us, because he is. And Jeon, don’t think that because you’re new here I’m going to go easy on you. You’re one of us now. Prove it.”

“Yes, sir.” Jungkook stands a little straighter, and nods. He doesn’t want to let his new unit down, and he will do everything to prove that he belongs here. He won’t waste this chance.

“Good. Well, that’s all for now. Kim, make sure to bring him fully up to speed, so that by tomorrow morning he can land with a running start.”

“Absolutely, Lieutenant.”

“Dismissed.”

After the meeting ends and before Jungkook can even settle back into his desk, Taehyung pulls him into a separate room. “To really give you the full picture of what it’s going to be like working with me, first, you need to see where you’ll be spending most of your time,” Taehyung says as he flips the light on in a small conference room.

There before him lay two whiteboards full of red arrows and lines connecting everything together. The whiteboard on the left of the room is covered with mugshots and names, one large portrait hanging in the middle at the top, with the name Min Yoongi written in large letters underneath. ‘Gang leader’ is scribbled above the photo. From what Jungkook could make out from the blurry photograph, there was an SUV parked outside of what appeared to be an abandoned building, a man being escorted into the car, most of his body shielded from the camera’s view.

The whiteboard on the right was filled with mostly question marks, except for very few names and pictures across the bottom of the board. All of the named photos were listed as ‘dealers’, which made Jungkook wonder about all of the missing information.

“This,” Taehyung starts, “is what you have missed. These are all of the names of the known members of the two largest cocaine gangs in the area, as well as suspected leaders. We know almost all there is to know about one gang,” he says pointing to the board on the left side of the room. “We’ve been extremely close to capturing the higher up gang members several times, but somehow they always get away at the last second.”

“And this,” Taehyung points to the board on the right. “This is, well. Right now this gang is pretty much a mystery. We got really lucky busting a drug deal on the side of the road. We were stationed outside of one of the suspected warehouses for this gang,” he explains, gesturing the the board on the left.

“We heard a knock on the window, honestly we thought we’d be been busted. Turns out it was just some idiot had come up to our unmarked car and tried to deal to cops,” He points to one of the faces at the bottom of the board. “Poor kid had no idea. But, lucky for us, it was our first big break into this new gang. We only figured out there was another gang operating in the city when we questioned him about the higher ups in--what we thought at the time was--the gang he was in.” Taehyung tapped the left board as he passed it, pacing around the room. “We found out very quickly that we were wrong when he spit in Song’s face. ‘Scum,’ I believe is what he so kindly called them.”

Jungkook’s head is reeling from all of this information. He’s always wanted to move up the ranks in the force, into a different department where he wasn’t just constantly on the prowl for people going a little over the speed limit. But now that he’s here he’s concerned he won’t be able to keep up. But he tries his best to follow along as Taehyung continues.

“Well, we believe they’ve been operating in this area for a long time, possibly longer than Min Yoongi’s gang. But, somehow they’ve gone relatively unnoticed, minus seemingly unrelated drug busts over the years. Song and I had to do a lot of digging to make the connections to past cases. But, once we caught two other dealers in the same area, we knew we’d caught wind of something big.”

feedback is always welcome! please feel free to leave some here!

A/N: Song is Song Minho...but this chapter and maybe one more is the only time I’m going to mention him by name. I’m not supportive of him at the moment and I won’t go into details (you can do your own research abt the subject), but I thought I should clarify who Taehyung’s old partner was. Now you know!

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thedarkgodmogar · 6 years

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IM BACK WITH A FANFIC

Suprise bitch, bet you thought you’ve seen the last of me.

Anyways. I realize it’s been 3 years. Life happens, I had no ideas or motivation. But then suddenly i got a random idea for a stingue gang au fic and I actually wrote some of it! I decided to go ahead and share the first chapter, see if anyone likes it, and try to keep my motivation going. (it’s also just been years and i miss this soo) I promise I’ll try my best to keep up with this one.

First chapter of the stingue gang AU under the read more. Title TBD, but basically Sting’s an idiot and flirts too much.

When Sting walked into his boss’ office, he fully expected a beating.

He doesn’t know why, his last job had been flawless. He’d shot the boss of Titan Nose through the head before anyone even knew he had a gun, left the Sabertooth emblem on the wall to mark his work, and then took out half the gang on his way out. He didn’t know exactly why the boss wanted them gone, they seemed pretty small and insignificant. (Sting half suspected it was because they named themselves something stupid like Titan Nose.) But usually when one walked into Master Jiemma’s office, they leave with a black eye at the very least.

Sting’s never been one for fear. He’s lived on the streets his whole life, can shot someone through the eyes with a pistol fifty feet away, a rifle a hundred, and the last time someone got the better of him in a fight was Natsu Dragneel about three years ago- but that’s a story Sting would rather forget. Even with his aversion to fear, he has to stand outside the big mahogany door for several seconds, steeling himself for whatever the hell awaits him inside.

Come on, Eucliffe, stop being a little bitch and just get it over with.

With a resigned sigh, Sting pushes open the door. The air inside the office is heavy despite the rooms size and various windows; Sting’s never once seen a single window open to let in a cool breeze. His eyes scan the right side of the room, where large bookshelves are stacked against the wall, filled with all kinds of official ‘legal’ stuff Sting could never hope to understand. The left side is empty except for a door half hidden behind a curtain; despite his best efforts, Sting’s never been able to find out where that door leads. The walls are just bare concrete with what looks like old blood stains splattered at various spots, mostly along the bottom, and the wooden floorboards creak under his feet. No one can sneak around in here

Sting steps into the middle of the room, facing the desk in the very back. If Sting had any eye for interior design, he would call the piece of furniture pretty, with its large slab of redwood held up by two growling tigers. But he doesn’t have a sense of interior design, nor is he concerned about the desk. He’s more concerned about the man sitting behind it.

Even sitting down, Jiemma Orland is a hulking figure, easily over seven feet tall, and with muscles that are barely contained under his leather-looking skin. With beady eyes and long white beard, he looks like an ox on steroids.

“Master-”

“Do not speak unless spoken to,” Jiemma says in that booming, commanding voice that always makes Sting feel like an insect waiting to get stepped on. Sting promptly snaps his mouth shut.

Jiemma turns his beady red eyes on Sting. “You’ve completed the job.”

Sting knows it’s not a question, but he answers anyways, “Yes, Master. The Titan Nose boss is dead and his men scattered. They won’t-” “And the emblem?” Sting swallows hard. You haven’t done anything wrong. He has no reason to be mad… hopefully. “On the wall right over the boss’ head.”

Jiemma nods, and Sting lets himself breathe a sigh of relief. He watches as Jiemma pulls a file out of a drawer before quickly snapping it shut. He puts it on the far edge of the desk. Sting’s curiosity soars, but he remains still until given permission to move. “Another job, sir?”

Jiemma grunts in acknowledgment as Sting picks up the file, then nearly drops it when he sees the name scribbled across the top.

Cheney, Rogue. Fairy Tail.

Both infamous names in Fiore, one more so than the other. Fairy Tail is the strongest gang in the whole city, having taken over half the town, most of the ports (including Hargeon, the biggest port in the city), and import trades. The only gang keeping them from owning the entire city is Sabertooth, and it has been a long, long war. When Sting joined Sabertooth at age twelve, the fighting had already started. It’s said Fairy Tail had tried to resolve things peacefully a couple years before that by giving a few things, taking a few things, charging less for port usage, and sharing a little information. But Jiemma wanted only pure domination.

Everyone knows the story of Fairy Tail. It’s the other name on the file that holds his interest. Rogue Cheney, also known as the Shadow. It’s said they joined Fairy Tail around the same time Sting joined Sabertooth. If a suspect or political figure disappeared, or a bank robbery where the cameras didn’t even see who did it, The Shadow was the one behind it. Rogue Cheney has made quite the reputation for themselves.

“The maggot has been slinking around our territory,” Jiemma growls, dragging Sting out of his thoughts. “More weaklings have gone missing. The fairies need to be reminded who they’re dealing with. Do not fail me, Sting.”

Sting nods, tucking the folder under his arm and bowing. “They will see the true might of Sabertooth. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Good.” Jiemma waves his hand in dismissal. Sting quickly makes his way out of the office, an actual bounce in his step. He got out of there without getting his ass kicked! And he got a new job! Not just any job, he gets to fuck with Fairy Tail! Either there’s a glitch in the matrix, or luck is finally on his side.

As far as Sting is concerned, there are two main Fairy Tail teams: Team Natsu, and Team Target. Team Natsu was to be avoided at all costs until further notice. Unless he could manage to get Natsu alone, then maybe he’d have some fun. But, as loathe Sting was to admit it, the other members of that team were Fairy Tail’s main force, and too strong to take on all at once.

Team Target was exactly as the name said: his target (he’s never been the most creative with names). Consisting of Yukino Agria, Rufus Lore, Gajeel Redfox, and Rogue Cheney, they were a pretty formidable team of their own right. Yukino is known for being a master at hand-to-hand combat, specializing in martial arts, as well as picking any lock you put in front of her. Rufus is their main intelligence, with a mind like a snake and a memory like a steel trap, almost nothing gets by him. Next to Rogue, Gajeel Redfox is their main firepower. Sting’s heard stories of Gajeel ripping iron with his bare hands and using the ripped off piece to stab a man through his heart. Sting isn’t sure if he believes those stories, but all rumors come from some truth.

Sting’s spent several long days trying to figure out how to deal with them. There was no way he was getting to Rogue without going through them, but taking them on all at once would be stupid. Ugh, why do groups have to be so together all the time?

Whatever. He was done thinking about it. Now, Orga had agreed to go with him to one of the best clubs in the city, where he one hundred percent planned to get blackout drunk and find some hot dude to spend the night with.

The music was loud enough Sting could feel it shaking the floor under his feet, feel the heavy bass in his chest. The flashing strobe lights made the mob of people dancing almost look like a horror film. They also made his eyes hurt. He made his way to the separate, slightly more subdued bar area in the adjacent room, where he sat and ordered one of the strongest drinks they have.

“Goin’ out strong tonight, ya?” Orga laughed and clapped him on the back as he sat on the stool next to Sting.

Sting wouldn’t really say he has friends, but Orga Nanagear would be the next closest thing. Orga had a presence in a room that was just too hard to ignore, and not just because he’s nearly seven feet tall. He laughs a lot, and even though Sting suspects it’s because he’s high ninety-eight percent of the time, Sting still likes the sound. Not many people are seen laughing in Sabertooth. It doesn’t hurt that the big guy will go drinking with him anytime he asks.

“You know me. The worst part of not being drunk is being sober.” Sting raises his glass, then takes a long drink, the alcohol burning his throat.

“Ha!” Orga guffaws. “Well, ya better watch it tonight. Yer not gonna believe what a little birdie told me.” He looks at Sting expectantly, who just grunts in acknowledgment.

Orga leans in real close. Sting can smell the weed on his clothes. “Word is some punks from Fairy Tail are gonna be showin’ up tonight. Some birthday or somethin’. The Shadow was even seen with the lot of ‘em.”

Sting nearly drops his glass.

No. Fucking. Way.

Sting does his very best at pretending he didn’t almost have a heart attack. “How many fairies?”

The look Orga gives him shows his efforts are useless. “Dunno exactly. Think only about seven? Maybe ten? It’s a small party.” The grin on his face makes Sting want to punch him. “That Natsu kid is with ‘em. You lookin’ to get yer ass handed to ya again?”

Sting ignores that. Ten Fairies, all within striking distance. And Rogue is one of them. Maybe this is the chance he’s been looking for. He’ll have to be careful, especially with Natsu; he’s the only one likely to remember Sting’s face.

No, ten Fairies is too much. He just needs the one. If he dodges Natsu, he can get to Rogue. Slip in close when they’re not looking. He’s heard how Fairy Tail parties, even crashed a few when he was younger, before Jiemma found out and broke his ribs. They’ll be drunk within the hour. All of them except Rogue, who’s hatred for alcohol is a weird abnormality in these parts.

He can do this. After all, he’s a master at seduction.

Time to snare him a Shadow.

#stingue #sting x rogue #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #sabertooth #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #my fic #my post #future orfus #future yukinerva #gang au #wip #ftlgbtfics

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supernatural508 · 6 years

Text

Beauty: The Truth

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Bucky x OFC, Sam x Platonic!OFC

A/N: So this was meant to be much shorter, like two parts, but I felt like just making one really long one. I promise it’s worth taking the time to read

Warnings: Creepy dudes bein creepy, sexual harassment

Word Count: 11,913

Tagging: @tilltheendwilliwrite @that-sokovian-bastard @sensualyodeling @hmc31400 @sassmastercas @mischiefnevermanaged94 @ghostssss

While in the elevator Kenina couldn’t help but think back to what brought her home from her deployment. It was something that she’d been trying to forget since it happened, but now it all came rushing back.

It was a warm night in the dessert and Kenina was currently trying to hold back her tears, this motherfucker could do whatever he wanted to her, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

“C’mon Nina, you know you want me.” Major Sumner was once again trying to get her to sleep with him, but this time it felt different. This time there was a sinister feel to the air around her.

“Major, you know I don’t want you and that I won’t sleep with you. You’ve been trying to get me to since we met a year and a half ago, it’s not gonna happen.” Her statement was true but the fear in her mind had her voice shaking.

“You see Nina,” he said as he slowly stroked her cheek and she flinched, “If you don’t give in soon, which you most definitely will, I’ll have to report you to the Colonel. Maybe it’ll be insubordination, or maybe disorderly conduct,” he grins her chin tight in his hand, “You’ll be needing to make your decision, Kenina, and it better be the right one.” With that he released her face and stormed away.

Kenina tries to hold back her tears as she begins to make her way to her meeting with Lieutenant Colonel KC Jones. She couldn’t let him see how upset she was, he’d known her since she joined the ARMY, and was pretty good friends with her life match Sam before she met him. If he found out, he’d tell Sam just how bad things are, and she didn’t need Sam coddling her, not like that first leave after they’d met. Keni put on a neutral face and knocked on the door before entering.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a state of the art gym fully equipped with everything supersoldiers, gods, and enhanced humans alike could ever need to stay in shape. Keni walked in and headed straight to the punching bags. Knowing Sam there would most likely be hand wraps somewhere close to them. When she gets over to the punching bag she finds she was right and begins wrapping her hands.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you’d be catching up with your life match up there.” Came a voice Kenina recognized as James Buchanan Barnes,

“Yea, well, Wilson got a call from my Lieutenant Colonel who told him why I’m on leave. Let’s just say that he’s not happy I didn’t drag him off and tell him right away.”

“So why are you the one down here gettin ready to beat the shit outta the bag and not him doll?”

“Well for one I’m pissed at KC for not letting me tell Sam what’s going on, and two I don’t need Sam to lecture me about not telling him about how bad things were only for him to turn around and start coddling me.” By now Kenina was done wrapping her hands. Bucky moved behind the bag to hold it steady for her without another word. Punch. “Stupid Sumner.” Punch. “Stupid KC” Punch. “Stupid Sam.” Punch. “Stupid lectures.” Punch. “Stupid fucking coddling.” Punch. “Stupid fucking men.” Punch. Punch. Kick. “And their stupid fucking egos.” Kenina punched the bag so hard it almost came off the hook despite James holding the bag steady.

“Damn, doll. That’s quite the punch ya got there. Why don’t you stop before ya break your hand, bet they won’t like you being injured when it’s time ship back out.” He seemed genuinely concerned, not like the men in the Army who tended to think that as a woman she would break at the smallest hit.

“Don’t you worry about me breaking James. I haven’t broken a thing since I was seventeen.” With that Kenina’s face dropped. She didn’t seem like the confident young woman who walked out of the elevator a couple of hours ago.

“Kenina, what’s wrong doll?” With that one question Kenina slips back into what happened just before she left the Middle East.

“Captain O’Cain, what's wrong? You're makin your ‘I don't know if I'm pissed or going to cry’ face.”

“I'm fine Colonel Jones, we have work to do.”

“To hell with reports, you either talk to me now or I call Wilson, you talk to him, and he tells me everything.” Kenina really didn't want to talk about it but she didn't want Sam finding out over the phone even more.

“Major Sumner is what's wrong.”

“What happened with the Major, O’Cain?” He knew that Captain Kenina O’Cain was one tough girl, if something wasn't really wrong she would never tell him anything. The fact that the problem had to do with Major Sumner came to no surprise, Kenina avoided him pretty regularly.

“He's been trying to get me to sleep with him for the last year and a half. Tonight he threatened to report me for disorder conduct or insubordination if I didn't give in soon.” Kenina was on the verge of tears, something that didn't happen often. Not since she was seventeen. She needed Lieutenant Colonel KC Jones to believe her. Otherwise her career as a military K9 handler was over.

“Kenina it's okay, I believe you, but I'm going to have to put you on leave while we investigate this. We need to find out if he's done this before, he was promoted over you only because no one wanted you to have to give up working directly with the dogs before you were ready. Go, visit Sam, relax, I'll take care of this.”

“I can't just leave Colonel, the new K9s are supposed to be here for training in a week!” More than anything you loved the dogs. No one but your life match, Sam Wilson knew about your power with animals and the only time you really could use it was when training the dogs.

“The dogs can be trained elsewhere, Captain O’Cain. You can see animals back in the states, you are a fully qualified veterinarian, You’re going on leave and when this is all done with you can come back and train the next group.” KC gave you a look that said ‘don't fuck with me Kenina’ so you agreed.

“Fine, I'll go deal with the fricken avengers so I can see my best friend. If I end up shot it's on you though.” She gave him a mischievous smile through her tears.

“The avengers aren't that bad O’Cain, at worst you'll get stabbed in the arm or something.” He smiled.

“Because that's supposed to make me feel better.” You rolled your eyes.

“Leave your files on the desk and get packing, you'll be leaving in three hours.”

Hope Sam is up to a surprise visit.

Without even noticing Kenina had sat down and shoved her head into her arms while hunched over her knees.

“Kenina, doll, you okay there? Do you want me to grab Sam?” James asked clearly concerned with her change in attitude.

“No, James you don’t need to get Sam. I’m just dealing with shit and him knowing everything would just make him coddle me.” She really didn’t want that. James moved to sit down next to her on the floor.

“I understand that, sometimes your life match just wants to protect you but goes about it in the wrong way. They mean well, it just can be annoying as fuck.”

“Now who would've thought Captain America’s life match would have a trash mouth hmmm?” With this Kenina laughs as she teases James.

“Well doll, not all us old guys are complete fuddy-duddy’s like Steve, and you don’t have to call me James ya know. Most people call me Bucky.” James smiles at Kenina brightly, though she didn’t notice it herself.

“Well then Bucky, you can call me Keni. You’re one of three.” She smiles into her elbow, just slightly looking up at Bucky and they both burst out laughing. Just then the elevator dings.

“Keni, we need to talk about this.”

“I know Sammy.” She sighs, “I know.”

Sam led Keni to his apartment without another word. Keni knew that she had messed up, she should have told Sam everything right away instead of avoiding it like she had.

“Tell me the truth Keni, what happened.”

“You know most of it already, a year and a half ago Sumner was promoted to Major so that I wouldn’t be separated from the dogs. When he arrived at our base he immediately started trying to flirt with me, but I kept telling him no and started avoiding him. About a month after he got there he started trying to get me to sleep with him, I refused every time and I guess he got fed up with it.” Keni started rubbing the burn scarred love mark on her wrist, something she did when she was nervous. “Two nights ago Sumner cornered me at the kennels, I was on my way to a meeting with KC.” Keni got up and started pacing as she told Sam exactly what happened that night, Sumner’s threat, trying to hide it from KC, KC’s reaction, leaving, everything. “I was terrified Sammy. I kept thinking that he was going to catch me packing or on my way out. I know KC was going to do what he could, but Sumner isn’t exactly reasonable. If he caught me it wouldn’t have ended well. Add the possibility of losing my career on top and I really just wanted to put everything behind me. I should have told you Sam, I’m sorry.” At this point Kenina O’Cain, the girl who never cried broke down crying in her best friends arms.

“Keni, it’s going to be okay. I promise. Remember your first leave? You and I, we protect each other, no matter what.” With that she slipped into another memory.

It was dark when she got off the plane from Afghanistan. At nineteen she had been in the Army for a year now and coming home wasn’t exactly joyful. The last time she had been in South Carolina was for the funeral, which ended in threats she rather not think about. After grabbing her luggage, Kenina didn’t know what to do. She had no family, her friends were all gone, Sam was in DC. With a sigh she decided she’d go to the one place she thought she’d never go again. Home.

Walking in the door of the large federal style mansion just outside of Charleston, Kenina couldn’t help but think of her family. The house was were her father had raised her and her three older brothers. Today all that was left of the happy family she’d once known was her older brother who she shared the house with. Finnigan wasn’t home as she expected, he was most likely on some business trip. Having taken over the family business after dad died Finn was rarely home for extended periods of time, he mostly travelled around making sure that everything was running smoothly. Finn had always taken a very hands on approach. He’d most likely be there if she’d told him she was coming home.The more Keni walked around the house the harder it was to breath. All the memories of her family came crashing through her head making her heart ache more and more. When she finally collapsed on the floor of her childhood room in tears, she noticed something different about her room. “YOU’LL GET WHAT YOU DESERVE BITCH” was written across her mirror in red lipstick. Someone had been in the house, Finn would never pull a prank going that far. She scrambled for her phone in a panic calling the one person she’d always be able to count on.

“Hey sweetheart, you just get home?” Sam answered happily.

“Sammy I’m scared.” Keni was trying to hold back her tears.

“What’s wrong Kenina? Where are you?”

“I’m in my room at home. Someone has been in the house, Finn’s away on business, and they left a note on my mirror.” She was progressively speaking faster as thoughts about what might happened filled her head.

“Stay on the phone with me Keni. I’ll be there in three hours, okay? When I get to the airport I’ll have to hang up. When I do, you call Finn, I know he’s away on business but you call him and don’t get off the phone until I get there okay?” Sam was in a near panic, Keni was all he had and if something happened to her he would never forgive himself.

“Sam you don’t need to come here.”

“Damn it Kenina Cara O’Cain! You’re my Life Match, remember what that means?”

“We protect each other, no matter what.”

“Yea sweetheart, we protect each other, no matter what.”

After that Kenina never went home to South Carolina when she was on leave, not unless Finn was home and Sam was meeting her there.

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ravenbrenna09 · 4 years

Text

Childhood Friends Snippet #3

@fandomtrash2405 and @serenity-who (and so did @skammerlife but theirs was originally my Hogwarts AU until we started talking about it) voted on number three (which was Childhood Friends AU) and I have a feeling this is definitely going to be 2 or 3 chapters. So here you go.

Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to log off before I get murdered.

...

As Robbe exited onto the floor of the flatshare, his body ached and he wanted nothing more than to swipe one of Senne’s liquors from the fridge and drink himself until his brain shut up enough to let him sleep. His body ached all over from the punches that those guys left, the ones that Robbe had managed to draw away from those two girls kissing outside a bar. He had a cut on his forehead, a bruise on his arm, and several on his chest and stomach. A cop had scared them off and brought Robbe home, filing a report on the matter.

The cop wouldn’t leave until he knew Robbe was in his apartment safely and that was how Senne found out about the fight, becoming fiercely protective of Robbe without ever having been so before. Zoë had found out shortly after the cop left, as Senne yanked up Robbe’s shirt, ignoring the younger boy’s protests, to check the full extent of the damages, to see if Robbe needed to go to the hospital. The only person in the flatshare who didn’t witness it was Milan, who had gone home for the weekend.

Robbe assumed that it was only a matter of time before he found out.

Robbe kicked off his shoes, they rebounded against the wall loudly, thumping on the ground. He wanted to bend over, to straighten them and the boots he knocked over. But, in all honesty, it hurt to laugh and bending over might only aggravate the bruises and the soreness of his chest, and Robbe didn’t want Senne to lift up his shirt again to assess his bruises or drag him off to the hospital against his will.

Speaking of Senne, the brunet poked his head out of the door that led to the living room, the sounds of video games filling the hallway, “What are you doing home?” Before he moved into the flatshare, he had gotten used to the veil that Senne had surrounded himself in at school, the leather jacket and the fuckboy attitude and the too-cool for life. While his love for partying still persisted, his softness beneath the leather jacket had shined through, likely all of Zoë’s doing, and Robbe was amazed how little he had known of the real Senne.

“Party was lame,” Robbe mumbled, moving towards Senne and into the kitchen. Senne stepped forward to peer around the corner at him. “I’m going to swipe some of your liquor.”

“Got money for it?”

“I’ll save some next time my dad sends me money,” Robbe replied, opening the fridge.

“How are the bruises?”

Robbe sighed. “I’m fine, Senne.”

“Are you sure? Let me see.”

“Senne, for fuck’s sake, I’m fine!”

Senne gave him a look, disappearing into the living room. Robbe tried to escape into his room, but Senne returned snagging him by his elbow before he could make it in, the one that wasn’t bruised, and pulled him back fully into the hallway. The video game abruptly cut off. He heard someone moving around, probably Luka or one of the other Beat Boys, and Robbe found his eyes wandering over to the living room door. Senne snapped his fingers, returning Robbe’s attention to him.

There was a look on Senne’s face, crossing his arms over his chest. Robbe let out a sigh, knowing that he wasn’t going to get out of this. He reached down, snagging his fingers beneath the end of his hoodie and pulled up. His shirt brushed over the bruises slightly, his shoulder aching, and he winced, pausing briefly with his shirt only at his stomach. Senne reached out, grabbing a hold of the fabric and helping Robbe the rest of the way, avoiding the fabric along the edge of the bruises.

With the fabric of his shirt tucked under his thumb, Senne plopped his hand on Robbe’s shoulder, staring down at the bruises, shining the flash from his phone on them. He let out a heavy sigh, shifting under Senne’s gaze and praying that Senne would deem him fine to not go to the hospital. The last thing he needed was for his father to yank him out of here. “They definitely got you good,” Senne mumbled.

Senne’s fingers applied a light pressure at the edges of the bruises and Robbe winched again, letting out a sharp hiss. “Thanks,” he mumbled and Senne gave him a sorry look. “I had no idea.”

Senne grinned. “Least your sarcasm is still working.”

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Sander.

The man had stepped out of the living room and Senne turned towards him. Almost immediately, Senne’s hand snapped away from Robbe’s shoulder, his shirt and sweater falling back over his chest, and Senne was covering Robbe’s chest, who didn’t care about being modest right now. He was dressed in another band t-shirt that Robbe knew that he had been obsessed with since middle school and a pair of fitting skinny jeans that made him swallow a little too hard. There was a look of unbottled anger, staring at Robbe and the cut on his forehead.

“Got in a fight,” Robbe replied, his voice cold as steel.

Senne took a step away, standing between both of them, his eyes darting between the two of them, in a silent standoff. Sander with his unbottled, protective anger and Robbe with his slow-burning, kindled anger that was still sitting in the pit of his stomach, over a year later.

Sometime over the summer, Sander and his family had moved back and he knew that because Camille arrived back at school, pressing a kiss against Robbe’s cheek and reuniting with her old friends. Moyo had made a comment about her figure and Robbe had suddenly remembered every protective bone in his body, glaring at him with an intensity that shut him up with no joke. Robbe hadn’t seen Sander, only heard about him through vague talkings with Camille, and only texted him after hearing that he had been accepted to the art school he had always wanted to.

Even now that he moved into the flatshare, this was the first time that Robbe had run into Sander in any capacity, which, judging by the look on Senne’s face, was likely intentional.

“By who?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Robbe replied. “The cops are on it.”

“The cops?!” Sander replied, growing louder, fiercer. With the number of times that Sander had been picked up by the cops, either through his hobby of spray-painting buildings or the handful of times that he left the house in the midst of an episode, he had quickly grown weary of the cops. Robbe had witnessed a few of them talk down to Sander, treat him poorly, but he knew that not all policemen were like that. But, Sander had been wary of them all the same and Robbe didn’t, couldn’t, blame him in the slightest.

But, the silent accusation, that Robbe didn’t understand, that Robbe was naive, did make the hair at the nape of his neck stand up. “Yes. The cop picked me up off the floor and brought me home took my statement and promised to find the men that did this,” Robbe replied, swallowing. He tightened his hand around the neck of the bottle and moved towards his room, wanting to be alone with his drowning thoughts.

“You can’t honestly believe that the cops are going to find who did this?” Sander spoke up.

“So what?” Robbe snapped back. “Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. What are you going to do? Find the four people who did this and knock some sense into them, to make them see the wrong that they did?”

“Yes!”

“All that is going to end up doing is you being in jail,” Robbe snapped back. “Besides, what’s the entire point of the entire thing?”

“Guys,” Senne warned, but it went unheeded.

“Robbe, they hurt you!”

“Well, so did you!” Robbe snapped, clenching the bottle so tight that it shook in his hand. Senne was still planted firmly between them, staying out of the conversation with his hands tucked behind his back, and there’s a look of shock, dumb realization painted over Sander’s face and it hurts but tears are threatening to spill over his eyes and as much as he wants to, he couldn’t stop. “You seem to have forgotten that you left me, remember? Not the other way around.”

“Robbe,” Sander whispered.

“No!” Robbe snapped. “You knew for months that you and your family were moving to Paris and you just… you just left Sander, left without saying goodbye, left me feeling like an absolute idiot because I thought that I was one of your closest friends and you just left me behind like I was nothing to you!” The tears were definitely spilling from his eyes now, and he didn’t care that Senne was there too, because he was unable to stop now. “I didn’t know what I did wrong for you to just leave like that, but you left and I tried to figure out why. All I got was unanswered texts and questions with no answers.”

“Robbe,” Sander cut in, sounding a bit broken.

“I tried texting you to figure out what I could’ve possibly done wrong to get that, I asked Senne, I asked Amber, I asked Camille, and I still didn’t have an answer. Hell, I even called your parents to try and get in touch with you because I just wanted to know,” Robbe continued. “And, after what happened in that damn bathroom, you shook everything loose, turned my life upside down, and… brought out something that I’ve been running from for so long and I was willing to try to figure it all out. I didn’t care about Jens or anyone else because I had you and I always had you.”

Through the tears, Robbe could see the look of realization, the shame in Sander’s green eyes, the tears welling on the corner of his eyes, the ones that made this all worse, even though this fight, this talk, this whatever this was had been welling in Robbe’s chest for too long, simmering beneath the surface.

“But, you left, Sander,” Robbe whispered, hearing his own voice waver. He uncapped the bottle of whatever he ended up grabbing and took a swig, feeling the alcohol burn his throat and his chest rip open at the broken look on Sander’s face, one that pierced his gut and made him feel even worse. “You left without a word and you wouldn’t even tell me why.”

Sander opened his mouth, maybe to explain, maybe to apologize, but no words came out. Robbe had known the artist for so long that he knew every look that Sander could ever possibly make. He could tell from the look on Sander’s beautiful, breath-taking, stone-carved face, expressing every emotion that he was feeling in the safety that Robbe and Senne provided. He knew from the way his face contorted that he was sorry, could tell that he was trying not to cry from the way his shoulders shook, and could see the need to fix it all behind his green irises.

But, the anger that Robbe felt in his stomach only festered into sadness and he wanted to be in his room, in his bed, where he didn’t have to hold back the tears anymore. So, Robbe took another swig of the alcohol and disappeared into his room, closing the door behind him as tears and sobs were ripped out of his chest, a loss growing in the spot that Sander used to make glow.

#brenna writes #brenna's childhood friends au #aka the story that gets brenna murdered #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #sobbe #rosander #sander x robbe #wtfock #wtfam #bye bye #brenna is going to leave before she gets murdered #LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK I AM INSECURE WRITER IN NEED OF LOVES AND YELLS

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argyle-s · 6 years

Text

SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS CHAPTER 9/?

Rating: Mature (For Later Chapters)

Read at Ao3

Start at the Beginning

Cat takes steps to deal with everyone who's mistreated Kara.

Chapter 9 - Come to Jesus Jimmy Olsen

When Cat returned to the bullpen it was full again and no one was looking at her in pretty much the same way no one looked at her first thing Monday morning. That was probably wise, considering she was absolutely in the mood to come down on someone like the hammer of God. Part of her really wanted to turn around, go back to Kara’s office, chuck Alex out on her ass and kiss Kara senseless. The other part of her, the rational part, was furious at herself for the line she’d almost crossed. Kara has been upset and vulnerable, and Cat had almost taken advantage of that. For making the same mistake she'd made once before. She wasn’t sure she’d ever forgive herself for.

She and Kara definitely needed to have a talk about what happened, but only once they both had a chance to let their emotions settle. Something that wasn’t likely to happen unless Cat took action on another front.

“Close the door,” Cat said to Eve as Eve followed her into the office.

“Yes, Miss Grant,” Eve said. “Um… do you want me inside, or outside when I do?’

Cat turned around, fully intending to deliver an absolutely scathing remark, right up until she remembered the empty bullpen when she’d lead Kara through. Instead, she swallowed the comment, because while Eve might not be Kara, she *was* good at her job, and because Eve had done nothing wrong and a lot right.

“Inside, please,” Cat said before walking around and sitting at her desk.

Eve closed the door, then came back and stood in front of Cat’s desk, notepad at the ready.

“First, I want you to call security. Clark Kent is banned from the building until further notice. I want a hard copy of his picture posted at all four visitors sign in stations, as well as in the security monitoring station on the twentieth floor. I also want instructions posted that he is to be asked to leave once, and if he does not comply, the police *and* FBI Special Agent Alex Danvers are to be called immediately and a formal complaint is to be filed even if he leaves before the police arrive. If he’s still here when the police arrive, I want him arrested for trespassing.”

“Second, I want you go down to HR, and have them call someone down from legal. I want three sets of paperwork prepared on James Olsen. The first set is a formal complaint for grossly unprofessional conduct with a two-week suspension without pay. The second set is a formal charge of harassment following the termination of a romantic relationship, along with an at fault termination packet. The third is a contract buy out at one hundred percent value. I want myself listed as the complaining party on the first set of paperwork, and Kara Danvers listed as the complaining party on the second set of paperwork. Tell legal I also want them to draw up a self defense incident report, with Clark Kent listed as the aggressing party, and Kara Danvers listed as the person being attacked. Tell them I want the paperwork prepared, but not filed. Once all three packets on Olsen are finished, I want them delivered to me, then I want you to find Olsen and tell him I want to see him.”

“Yes, Miss Grant. Anything else?”

“Yes,” Cat said. “Do you know Alison Mercer in HR?”

“Yes,” Eve said.

“Speak with her alone. Make sure no one overhears you. Tell her I want her to fill out a packet twenty-seven with today’s date and sent to my office. She’ll ask you for names. Give her mine and Kara Danvers. Speak of this to no one else, and once it’s done, forget it ever happened.”

“Yes, Miss Grant.”

“Also, clear my entire schedule for tomorrow, then put down a meeting with Kara form 10:00 AM until noon. See that Snapper is informed that she’ll be unavailable during that time. Tell him that if he has a problem with it, he can call Vicki Vale and offer her his job.”

“Yes, Miss Grant. Anything else?”

“That’s all,” Cat said. “Close the door as you leave.”

Eve nodded and turned, heading for the door while Cat leaned back and took a deep breath, considering what she’d just done. Alison Mercer was the head of enforcement for the CatCo Code of Conduct. Her entire job was to make sure that every employee in the building lived up to the exacting standards Cat had set down when she’d founded CatCo, and one of those standards was that Cat Grant was absolutely not going to sit around and allow any executive to force themselves on an underling. No one other than Cat or Alison in the building would have any idea what a “packet twenty-seven” was, because that wasn’t the official designation for the packet of paperwork. The official name was “Order for the Termination of a Board Reporting Employee for Inappropriate Sexual Advances Towards a Subordinate.”

Under under the terms of the CatCo Company Charter, the Board was required to investigate the allegations contained in a packet twenty-seven, and if the allegations were confirmed, the board had no choice but to remove the employee in question from their position. The employee would also forfeit all outstanding stock options, all CatCo 401K matching contributions, their pension and severance package, and under the terms of all board reporting contracts, would be required to sell all shares of CatCo back to the board at eighty percent of current market value.

The fact that Cat had requested the filed the paperwork be prepared herself would be a de facto confession, meaning there wouldn’t even be an investigation. If she told Alison to file those papers, she wouldn’t finish out the day.

It wouldn’t ruin her. Not financially. Even without her CatCo stock Cat was a billionaire ten times over. The trust funds for Carter and Adam were already established, so even if she was bankrupted by the nearly inevitable lawsuits, her sons would be taken care of. It would absolutely destroy her legacy though. Everything she’d ever said about protecting women in the workplace would instantly become a joke, undermined by her own hypocrisy. But she absolutely could not call James Olsen out for his bad behavior if she wasn’t willing to own up to her own.

However, she had other things to take care of first.

She picked up her cell phone, scrolled down to the contact marked ‘Lesser Lane’, and hit send.

“Hey, Cat,” Lois said when she picked up. “How’s the Evil Queen business treating you?”

“Not good,” Cat said. “One of my reporters just slapped a reporter from another paper so hard it drew blood. It’s a mess. One of my department heads was involved. My reporter has a pretty good case for self-defense, as well as a case for harassment against the department head in question, but this has the potential to turn into a complete shitstorm if the other reporter or the department head decide to make a stink, or someone talks to the press.”

“Um, Cat, I know you don’t think much of my reporting skills, but you do remember I *am* a member of the press, right?” Lois asked.

“Unfortunately, that’s not something I can really forget, no matter how much scotch I consume. I just thought you might like a head’s up as to why your boyfriend has a split lip and a hand shaped bruise on his face.”

“WHAT?” Lois screamed.

“Oh, keep it down. But you might want to let him know he’s banned from the building, and the security guards have instructions to have him arrested for trespassing if he shows up here again.”

“Cat, who the hell hit Clark?” Lois asked.

“Kara Danvers,” Cat said. “I don’t know what the hell your farm boy was thinking, but what he said to her… It was bad, Lois. And Olsen was right in the middle of it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ on a crutch,” Lois said. “What the hell did James do?”

“Ask him yourself,” Cat said. “Mr. Olsen is about to find himself with an abundance of free time.”

“You’re firing him?” Lois asked.

“I’d like too,” Cat said. “But I’m going to leave the final decision up to Kara.”

“That’s not like you, Cat. What’s really going on?” Lois asked.

Cat let out a sigh. “What’s going on is James Olsen is an outstanding art director, one of the most talented photo journalists in the world and would very likely have succeeded me as CEO of CatCo Worldwide media. Except the way he treated your sister made one of the most talented lawyers I’ve ever seen walk away from a seven figure salary after three months, and he seems completely incapable of processing the idea that Kara isn’t just your farm boy in a skirt.”

“Wait, what?”

“James and Clark are both unhappy with a decision Kara made during the Doomsday event a couple of weeks ago.”

There was silence on the line for nearly two minutes, before Lois spoke again.

“You know, don’t you?” Lois asked.

“Yes,” Cat said. “It took me about two months to figure it out. Which is an embarrassingly long time, I admit.”

“It took me two fucking years,” Lois said.

“Well, yes, but I that’s you,” Cat said.

“Kara really hit him?” Lois asked.

“Yes,” Cat said. “I saw it coming. I tried to stop it, but James got in my way.”

“I’ll talk to Clark. But Cat, banning him from the building…”

“Lois, if you know who Kara is, you know what she’s been through,” Cat said.

“Yeah, I do,” Lois said.

“Then you’ll understand why when you hear what he said. Well, assuming he has the good sense to leave town before Alex Danvers or J’onn J’onzz catch him. If he doesn’t, well, I could probably get you Aquaman’s phone number.”

“I’ll call him and suggest he come home,” Lois said. “Thanks for the head’s up.”

“You might want to talk to Perry about getting James his old job back,” Cat said. “If Kara wants James gone, I’m going to revoke his National City privileges.”

“That’s low, Cat, even… No, you know what, I’m going to wait until I know what’s going on before I open my mouth, because honestly, I’m still pissed at James for what went down with Lucy.”

“Good choice,” Cat said.

“Yeah. Thanks for ruining my day, by the way.”

“Always a pleasure,” Cat said, then she lowered her phone and hit the end call button.

***

“You wanted to see me?” James said as he came to a stop in front of her desk.

“Have a seat, Mr. Olsen,” Cat said.

“I figured you’d want me standing for this,” he said as he lowered himself into one of the chairs opposite her.

“Oh, I think we’re well past theatrics and power games,” Cat said. “You see, James, I *hate* repeating myself. I really do. So, I’m going to keep this short. Your behavior is unacceptable. Kara asked you not to bring your personal issues into the work place. You ignored her wishes and tried to pressure her into a conversation she did not want to have. You created a scene which could have embarrassed her personally and professionally had I not intervened. Then, today, you and Kent brought an outside issue into Kara’s place of work, created a public spectacle which I can only assume hasn’t found its way onto TMZ and Buzzfeed because everyone out there in the bullpen loves Kara. A spectacle which could have been avoided if you hadn’t kept me from interfering when the initial disagreement began to escalate.”

“You’re going to blame me for that?” James asked with a look of disbelief on his face. “You’re the one who insisted they talk on the balcony.”

“Not helping your case,” Cat said. “I knew the entire situation was trouble the moment I saw you and Kent talking. I wanted the situation where I could keep an eye on it, and if you hadn’t gotten in my way, I might have been able to stop the argument from escalating to the point where Kara felt that a physical response was necessary.”

“Necessary? You think Kara hitting Clark was necessary?”

“What I think is irrelevant,” Cat said. “Kara obviously did.”

James shook his head. “You don’t have any idea what that conversation was about.”

Cat stepped on the impulse to tell James she knew exactly what the conversation was about, because no matter how badly she’d screwed up today, she was not going to violate Kara’s confidence.

“I didn’t need to,” Cat said. “If Kara reacted that way to something Clark said, then I know he crossed a line because I know Kara.”

“Not as well as you’d like to,” James muttered.

Cat just raised one eyebrow as she stared at James and waited. It took a couple of seconds for him to realize what he’d said, and Cat, for all the effort she was making to keep the meeting civil, relished the look of panic on his face.

“Are you done, Mr. Olsen?” she asked in a tone slightly colder than Kara’s freeze breath.

“Miss Grant, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t insult me,” Cat said. “You meant it. In fact, it’s probably the most honest thing you’ve said since you walked in here. So, let me be equally honest. When you arrived at CatCo I had a lot of respect for you and very high expectations. I hired you with the express purpose of slotting you into the succession plan for when I eventually retired. But I began to question that decision when I saw the way you reacted to me hiring Lucy Lane. She was an amazingly competent woman who would have been a tremendous asset to CatCo had your behavior not driven her away. And now, your behavior is creating problems for an absolutely astonishing young woman who has a tremendous amount of potential. Your behavior. Your inability to accept the validity of Kara’s choices and feelings, on top of your insistence on trying to push her into being something she doesn’t want to be.”

“You are really going to sit there and lecture me on how to treat Kara?” James asked. “Really?”

“Oh, Mr. Olsen, I admit, I’m the last person who should be lecturing anyone on how they should treat Kara. And yet, here we are. Again.”

“Now, fortunately for you, Mr. Olsen, today does not involve an angry Kryptonian on space drugs tossing you off a forty-story building, but make no mistake, this *is* your come to Jesus moment. The only reason you still currently have a job is that Kara has not filed a formal complaint.” Cat reached down and opened the file drawer in her desk and pulled out three manila envelopes. She sat two on her desk and held the third one up.

“This is your for-cause termination packet. All it needs is Kara’s signature on a harassment complaint. One I will offer her the chance to sign tomorrow.” She returned the termination packet to her desk drawer.

“Now, Kara is the forgiving type. She always sees the best in people, and wants to believe they can change, that they can do better. So, I know the chances of her *ever* signing that harassment complaint are close to zero. I also know that if I fire you because of this, she will be eaten alive by the guilt. Which is why I had these prepared.” Cat slid the other two envelopes cross her desk to James.

“One of those is a contract buy out at one hundred percent of the value of your remaining contract. The other is a two-week suspension without pay and a formal letter of reprimand for your personnel file. You can walk away from CatCo today, with three years and nine months’ worth of pay, a cash bonus equal to the current value of your stock options, and a clean personnel file, or you can spend two weeks on unpaid leave getting your head on straight, then come back here and act like you have some concept of how to conduct yourself in the work place. But, if you decide not to take the buyout, and I’m wrong about how forgiving Kara is, you will walk away with nothing. But if you decide to stay, that letter of reprimand will go in your file, and if there is *ever* another incident, I won’t need Kara’s cooperation to fire you for cause.”

James stared at her for a moment, and Cat could see the absolute fury in his eyes as he reached for a pen. He picked up the packet with the suspension paperwork, opened it and signed in four separate places before shoving the paperwork back across the desk.

“Two things before you go,” Cat said. “First, I had Miss Teschmacher book you on a red eye to Metropolis. You’ll find the ticket details in your personal email. I think a break from National City would help you get some perspective.”

James just sat there, staring at her.

“Second, if I ever catch wind of you dating another CatCo employee, I don’t care how upset Kara gets. I *will* fire you on the spot. I told you before, twice is dangerously close to becoming a pattern of behavior. I will not put up with your bullshit a third time.”

“Now, get out of my office.”

#supergirl #supercat #kara danvers #cat grant #kara x cat #fanfiction #slow burn #something just like this

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colorfuleducationdesignkid · 3 years

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Hi good evening I'm francine gala of HUMSS-A from Antipolo Rizal,I'm 16 years old please bare with me I'm just new here in tumblr app

I've learned that Empowerment Technologies or E-tech is very important in our daily lives. I also learned that ICT deals with the use of different communication technologies like movile phones, telephone and internet etc. I learned more about mobile technology. I also learned how to be safe online and what are the different types of internet threats.We are becoming more effective upon using the technologies for good purposes because we are aware and knowledgeable of the way on how to behave online and also we become updated to the different accessible sites that we can access and explore to create different online activities.

Introduction to Information and Communications Technologies (ICT)

From what I had learned about this topic, it is because of Information and Communications Technologies (ICT) that we are experiencing a life with less hassle on gathering information and at the same time understanding it. It is also known that with ICT life is made better and the day to day chores are a lot more easier to accomplish that before, and nowadays, the rise of technology is so rampant that it became so special that we human beings started to rely on it and we became very dependent on it. Here in the Philippines, ICT is very welcomed and acknowledged not only by the government and business industries but also by the Filipinos, given that almost every Filipino today has cellular phones, gadgets, and appliances. In addition I have also learned that with ICT you cannot only gather information but also disseminate them to other, for we have so many sites to do so, one type of site is a blogging site that where we can upload our own opinion and knowledge to be seen or read by the so called “netizens”.

Rules of Netiquette

Now I have fully understand that surfing on the internet does not mean you are free to do what ever is it that you wish to do on the internet. keep in mind that internet is know as the “superhighway” of information, therefore if ever there are people who wishes harm upon you may use the information you had given on the online society to threaten you or in the worst case scenario, harm you. Also as a person who uses technology, like computer or smartphone, me and you, might as well all of us should know about the risks we are taking just by being online, and also what the dangers known as “malware” can do to our computers and the like. this is where the safety precautionary measures play its part, as a “netizen” and a computer literate, we must be aware on how to stay safe while we are online and how to prevent these malwares to infiltrate and destroy our devices by following some rules and tips, but these some may mean a lot bigger when the time comes.

Basic Computer Understanding and Skills

Knowing the basics about computer really means a lot, today technology like computer is widely used and being uneducated about computer means being left behind, not only by the trend but also by the benefits we can get by using the computer. Computers are not not only used in the offices anymore but also in homes, schools and even in businesses like internet cafe. Now I’am very thankful to learn even the basics of the computer parts, due to the reason that I am able to use computers with ease and making my task done a lot more easier. Computers are complex devices but if you learn how to use them, you can eradicate the complexity and use it in your own advantage and benefit. Computers have so many parts within a single unit and is divided into two kinds, the software and the hardware that both plays a big role in the computer as a whole, if ever one of their branches are missing then the computer might have a difficulty of functioning and performing certain tasks and might also end on not performing the task at all. that is how crucial a computer can be, as far as my knowledge go.

Microsoft Word

There is only one thing that keeps bugging me the whole time I was thinking about Microsoft Word, and that one thing is definitely unacceptable for me. The thing that I was talking about is, what would happen if this Microsoft Word did not exist at all? Then my answer would be; making a document will be more difficult, its either you type write it, use the Word Pad, find another application or just write it down on paper, imagine the hassle that every individual should undergo if there is no Microsoft Word. But the good thing is, Microsoft Word exist, thus making writing documents a lot easier with its given services and features that is definitely complete in its own class, and with its endless number of pages, you can make a document of a lifetime with Microsoft Word. In addition, Microsoft Word also comes in a mobile version which makes it portable and accessible wherever you are as long as you have your phone or tablet with you.

Microsoft Excel

Does solving large amount of numbers with a lot of coordinates and items bothers you? Well in my case, yes. But worry not, for what I have learned is that with Microsoft Excel, we don’t need to scratch our head every time we are dealing with number, because Microsoft Excel is a tool used for solving mathematics. By the word “mathematics” it means every mathematical problem can be solved using Microsoft Excel, and it is very convenient, you just have to know the right functions and commands then you can just type in the unit of number and press enter and “boom” you then have the answer in an instant that’s how convenient it is to use Microsoft Excel. Judging by its name, Microsoft Excel really is “Excellent!”.

Microsoft Powerpoint

Now this thing here is the Microsoft Powerpoint, a tool that is used to create presentation. If you’re going to ask me what does Microsoft Powerpoint do, then I’m going to tell you, try it on your own, because what Microsoft Powerpoint does is so many that it even outnumbered all my fingers from hand to feet, and there’s no way of explaining them all in just one sitting. Therefore, experience is the best teacher. But let me tell you this short summary about what I understand about Powerpoint, Powerpoint is much more like an assistant during your presentation, it can play video, showcase slides, perform animation, screen recording and much much more. You can name every single thing regarding presentation and Microsoft Powerpoint has it all. I can confidently say that Microsoft Powerpoint is the best presentation creator, and even become the mother of all presentation, but that’s just an exaggeration.

Imaging and Design for Online Environment

It is very fascinating to know that Online Environment is not just all about the User Interface and User Experience, but also for graphical designs. I have learned some of elements about graphical design on the online environment such as balance, emphasis, movement, pattern, repetition, rhythm, proportion, and variety. These elements are all important, for they play their own specific role and they please certain types of viewers. Though not all viewers like a single type or element, then that’s the time the other elements turn to shine. In fact, these elements are the ones used by the most popular websites of different fields and targeted users e.g. Google, Facebook, Youtube, Rappler, and many more. In addition, there is also the so called, infographics which is fun and interesting, just by knowing how you can deliver information in a graphical way. It might be in form of animation or by giving the viewers a test of logic by letting them find out the meaning within a graphic art.

Online Platforms for ICT Content Development

In this topic it is greatly appreciated that you are guided on making your own desired website, like using Facebook, a social media website that allows you share you share your wanted information, but still, with restrictions regarding web design, so if you like to be the boos of your website then WordPress Is the app suited for you. As what I’ve learned, WordPress is a tool that allows you to create your own blogging website, it is you who decide for everything, design, content, elements, dynamics, and anything with regards to a blogging site, name it and WordPress will have it. Now, with highly advance technologies, impossible is most likely becoming “I’m possible”, just like before the 20th Century, web developers and programmers are all professionals, spending how many years just to finish their course of choice, but now? Anyone as long as he or she is a computer literate, can create a website for him/herself by the use of Facebook, WordPress, Blogger, and the like. There is also a term called What You See Is What You Get (WYSIWYG) which means, though you are free to put in anything you like on your own website, you still need to be careful on your content, because your viewers can see everything and there is no such thing as “hidden files” or “privacy” on your website, and that makes you vulnerable to threats, identity theft, and anything that causes you harm.

Creating Infographics Using Piktochart

As what I’ve said during my reflection on the topic Imaging and Design on Online Environment, infographics are so cool that you can disseminate information through graphical arts. Now anyone can make infographics more easier and portable, anywhere you are, you can make infographics through Piktochart with dozens of notable features and functions, like making a collage, editing one or more images at once, and making Gifs, just how fun could that be? I have learned that if you use infographics on delivering information, you can easily get the attention of your viewers rather than reading ad explaining the information onto them, and also note that it is much more better if the audiences or students in other cases learns and adopts more accurate and quick when they have their attention onto the topic given to them. Also it would be kept in their “well of knowledge” once they’re the ones who dug up that knowledge for themselves.

Creating Website Using Microsoft® Word and Jimdo

Creating a website is not anywhere close to easy, if and only if you are using the Notepad or Notepad ++, then you’ll surely end up scratching all over your head, it’s funny but it surely is true. Now here’s the good thing, making a website or webpage doesn’t need to be so difficult and frustrating. Here’s why, you can simply use Microsoft Word to create your own website, and if you would like to add some dynamics, effects and additional function on to it, Jimdo’s got your back. In this lesson We’ve incorporated the use of these application or tools to simplify the process of making a website. You can make a simple but beautiful website in just 5 to 10 minutes, you like to do blogging? Then fortunately you can with your own website and so much more. You can just forget about those codes for a moment and start making your website with the help of Microsoft Word and Jimdo.

Inserting Youtube Videos on Your Blog Post

If you like Blogging so much, then here’s a simple tip to improve and draw the attention of the readers to your blog posts, and that can be done by inserting youtube videos on your blog post. That is what I’ve learned about this topic and whats more interesting is that you can accomplish this task in 6 easy steps and you’re already drawing a lot of readers and viewers onto your blog posts. By adding a multimedia content on your blog, you’re making your posts more interesting and eye catching to the readers, and aside from that you’re making your Blogging site leave a big impact on the social society. Thus, making every single netizen want to come back and read your blogs every now and then. That’s the importance of putting a multimedia content on your blog posts, which also shows a significant effect and noticeable change that bring positive vibes on your blogs.

The Role of ICT in the Philippine History

It is just new to my knowledge that ICT was widely used during the historical events in the Philippines. I learned that ICT does not only makes things or chores a lot more easier, but it is also able to alter the reality and change the flow of history, just like what happened in the EDSA (People Power Revolution). As the time is moving forward, so as the ICT advancement is moving forward, developing and evolving. At first Radio Broadcasting was used, after that, the text brigades, and then the use of social media sites to spread the advocacy and persuade the people to join a campaign or protest. In addition, ICT was not just used for protests and campaign but also to be a form of communication and tracker for the loved ones of the Overseas Filipino Workers OFWs in times of calamities.

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