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poisonlove · 3 months

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Proposal | va

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" I ask incredulously to the brunette in front of me.

Wednesday rolls her eyes at my request and merely stares at me with her usual apathetic gaze. We were sort of friends... well, I'm not entirely sure, given that a couple of times she told me she could barely stand me and refrained from taking my life due to my bright and optimistic attitude. Nevertheless, I enjoyed spending time with her.

"You know I hate repeating things," she says, maintaining a neutral tone, "but... I asked if you can pretend to be my girlfriend in front of my parents," she repeats, batting her lashes. "So, I didn't mishear," I murmur under my breath, and the long-braided girl rolls her eyes at my comment.

Wednesday and I are completely different: she's black, I'm white; night and day; yin and yang. My reaction is entirely justified! How can two people so different be together? Despite these internal questions, a part of me has been waiting for this proposal for a long time. Even though the gothic girl wasn't programmed for relationships, my heart couldn't help but beat faster for her over time. Wednesday remains unsettling, and her tastes are truly unique, but despite everything, talking to her is pleasant, and I adore the way she treats me.

In the end, the little brat cares about me.

"So?" she asks impatiently, and I blink, diverting my attention from my thoughts. "Why? Why do you want to pretend in front of your parents?" I inquire with curiosity, and Wednesday crosses her arms over her chest, looking at me seriously.

Wednesday sighs, lowering her head towards the floor, averting her gaze from mine. "You know I hate the human race, right?" she rhetorically asks, and I nod, attentively watching the gothic girl. "I don't want my family to know that I still feel this hatred. I want them to believe that I have social interactions," she says, almost with shyness in her whisper. "And besides, they already know you," she adds absentmindedly.

Analyzing her words, I smile widely with mischief. "You want your parents to believe that you're like them... Do you care about their opinion!" I say with emotion, approaching Wednesday more. I wrap my arms around her waist, catching the brunette off guard, and hug her tightly against my chest. "Y/n," she warns, her voice lowering dangerously. Seeing that I don't let go of her, Wednesday sighs heavily before tentatively reciprocating the hug, making me triumphantly smile.

"See? You've taken steps forward! You can endure hugs," I say, smiling widely.

Wednesday loosens herself from my arms and sighs heavily. "I can tolerate touching you for a few minutes before my homicidal instinct acts on its own," she says absentmindedly, tightening her grip.

Okay, her arms were around my neck, and I wasn't exactly sure if Wednesday was being serious. I loosen my hold on her body and step back, observing her brown eyes completely unreadable. "Alright," I say smiling slightly and Wednesday lifts the corners of her lips simulating a smile.

"Perfect," she declares, immediately wiping the smile from her face. The gothic girl walks towards her desk and sits in front of her typewriter, leaving me stunned. "Is that all?" I ask incredulously and Wednesday turns her head towards me looking at me seriously. "Yes. Now go, I need to write. See you tomorrow morning at the entrance, don't be late," she says with a neutral tone returning to her writing.

The sound of her fingers pounding on the keyboard fills the room, and I'm left staring at Wednesday Addams. "Stop looking at me, it's irritating," she says, sighing loudly. "Go away," she repeats and I smile unconsciously at her words. In the particular language of the Addams, stop looking at me seems to translate to if you look at me, I get distracted and can't continue writing and i have to talk to you

Exiting Ophelia Hall, I run into Enid returning from her date. "Everything okay with Ajax?" I ask with curiosity and the blonde laughs happily, nodding.

"And you? Has Wednesday already grown tired of you?" she says smiling and I nod my head, my enthusiasm slipping away.

"You know she likes you... she's just slow in these things," Enid encourages me and I smile with sadness. "Yeah..." I say doubtfully and sigh loudly. "I'm going to my dorm, goodnight," I say to Enid, who looks at me with sadness before walking towards her room.

(...)

"Good morning," I say with enthusiasm as I see Wednesday Addams waiting for me at the entrance of Nevermore Academy. The gothic girl looks at me impatiently.

"You're late," Wednesday says, looking at me seriously, arms crossed. "Sorry... Yoko didn't wake me up," I justify, and the brunette shoots me a glare. I unconsciously smile, seeing the tension in Wednesday's shoulders, her coffee-colored eyes brimming with irritation. "The usual silly vampire," she mutters softly, and I glance at the brunette, suppressing a knowing smile at her jealous outburst.

"Y/n!" I turn towards the voice and see the mentioned girl running towards me, holding my hoodie. "Yoko," I smile at the vampire, immediately feeling a piercing gaze behind my back. "You forgot your hoodie; thanks for lending it to me," she says, smiling widely and revealing her fangs.

"Thanks," I take the hoodie, and with the corner of my eye, I see Wednesday continuing to stare at us with irritation.

I walk back towards Wednesday, and she scrutinizes me with her eyes, shining with jealousy. "Did you lend her your hoodie?" she unconsciously asks, and I nod without any issue. "Good," Wednesday rolls her eyes and walks out of the iron gate, leaving me stunned and standing alone.

Every time Wednesday saw me with Yoko, she became impatient and stared at us with irritation, unable to avoid feeling uncomfortable. I knew Wednesday's jealousy was entirely different from romance; the gothic girl had confessed that I'm her only friend, not counting Enid, and Wednesday doesn't like sharing her things.

"Hey!" I chase after Wednesday, and the girl continues to walk with her classic elegant yet serious pace. "Wait," I shout at the gothic girl, and she stops, sighing loudly. "Move," she says irritably, and I roll my eyes at her childish behavior.

The Addams family's car appears before our eyes, sending a shiver down my spine. "So, shall we go in?" Wednesday Addams says, opening the car door and inviting me to get inside the vintage car. Lurch watches us from the central mirror, and his eyes make me uneasy.

Wednesday's hand delicately takes mine, and my eyes shift downwards. My heart races against my chest. The gothic girl's skin is pale and cold to the touch, but it's a pleasant sensation. Wednesday holds my hand in a peculiar way, loosely against mine, with a stiff wrist, as if she doesn't know how to hold hands.

Lurch looks away from the mirror and starts the car. "What are you doing?" I whisper as soon as the partition rises between us, and Wednesday quickly lets go of my hand. "We need to start the plan; play along," she apologizes with an authoritative and cold tone, surprising me.

"Well..." I say hesitantly, looking out of the car window. The landscape outside is shrouded in an eerie atmosphere, with a dense, dark-leafed forest standing against a twilight sky. The air is thick with mystery, and the road winding through the forest seems to lead to unknown places.

The car stops, and I, with a puzzled look, glance around. "We've arrived," announces Wednesday, quickly getting out of the car, and I follow suit.

The Addams' house stands imposingly before us, a Gothic mansion wrapped in an aura of dark elegance. Sharp spires pierce the sky, while intertwined vines give it an even more sinister appearance. The windows are adorned with heavy curtains and stained glass that seems to hide dark secrets within.

A sense of unease envelops the surrounding atmosphere, but at the same time, there's something fascinating in the decadent majesty of the Addams' abode. With uncertain steps, I approach the main door, ready to immerse myself in the enigmatic world of this unique family.

Wednesday rings the doorbell.

The gothic girl firmly grabs my hand again. "Calm down and act like a real girlfriend, or I'll kill you," she whispers in a low voice, her gaze fixed on the imposing door of the Addams' house.

The tension in the air is palpable, and when the door opens slowly, Mr. Addams, a man of imposing figure and mysterious air, appears behind it. His mischievous smile widens upon seeing his daughter Wednesday hand in hand with me.

"Stormcloud!" Gomez opens his arms, expecting a hug from his daughter. However, Wednesday looks at him with confusion, remaining fixed in place, not responding to the expected embrace.

"Darling! Our terror is home!" Gomez Addams exclaims with a playful smile, revealing the family's peculiar sense of humor.

At that moment, the house door opens elegantly, revealing the dark and fascinating figure of Morticia Addams. Her presence is shrouded in an aura of mystery and grace, with her long black hair and the form-fitting dress that emphasizes her sinister elegance.

"Welcome, my treasures," Morticia murmurs, her calm and measured voice adding a touch of seduction to the atmosphere. Her gaze, penetrating and magnetic, traverses the foyer as she observes the two of us with interest. A smile spreads across her lips upon seeing our intertwined hands.

"Our little one brought home a guest," announces Mr. Addams, and Morticia smiles slightly. "It's a pleasure to see you again, y/n," she says, addressing me with a slight bow.

I met the Addams family at Nevermore, and it was the first time I saw their house.

"The pleasure is mine," I say with a smile on my lips. A guttural sound echoes behind us, and when I turn, I see Lurch walking strangely towards us, holding my hoodie.

Without saying anything, Wednesday takes the hoodie and wraps it around her waist. "Don't say anything," she whispers, tightening her grip on my hand, and I nervously smile. Lurch takes off his hat and mutters something incomprehensible before entering the house. "Thanks," I say, smiling widely and leaning towards Wednesday.

I had to play the role of a girlfriend, right? So, I had to thank her appropriately. I unconsciously smile as my lips touch her pale cheek. Sensing a strange movement near her, Wednesday turns towards me, looking at me seriously. Instead of a simple thank-you, my lips collide abruptly with hers. I immediately sigh at the contact with her soft lips.

Wednesday stiffens at the touch but shows no sign of rejection. The gothic girl extends her hand, intertwining her fingers around my neck, pulling me closer, our lips firmly attached.

I break the kiss and look at the family with embarrassment, Gomez smiling widely. My heart was pounding wildly, and shivers ran down my body, the ghost of the kiss still present on my lips. The kiss was fantastic, I must admit, and her lips were delightfully cold and plump, exactly as I had imagined them in my dreams.

Wednesday clenches her jaw and breaks the contact between our hands, entering the house. I was about to follow her when a hand gently grabs my arm. Mr. Addams looked at me, smiling but with a strange glint in his eyes. "You know how our family is, right?" he asks in a low voice. "Yes..." I say hesitantly, feeling a strange anxiety creeping in.

"If you dare to harm our little one, I swear I'll cut you into such small pieces that it will be impossible to find you," he threatens menacingly.

I nervously swallow saliva.

"Darling, don't scare our guest," Morticia intervenes with a small smile on her lips. "But the threat is real," she says before turning and walking towards the staircase, her husband following her with admiration.

"Well, I'm screwed," I say nervously, my eyes looking around with confusion, not exactly sure where the heck I should go.

Wednesday's Room

My eyes curiously scanned Wednesday's room: black curtains, a small guillotine, scattered weapons, and a canopy bed. I had the pleasure of meeting her little brother, Pugsley. The Addams boy had embraced Wednesday, begging her to play with him—games like burying him alive, shooting him with a crossbow, or tying him up somewhere.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, a strange silence enveloping us.

"Do you want to talk about the kiss?" I asked timidly, and Wednesday's shoulders tensed as she sat on the canopy bed. Her eyes looked at me with confusion, and with a slight nod of her head, she gestured for me to sit beside her.

I walked over with embarrassment and sat beside her.

"It was an accident," I confessed, feeling fear gradually grow in my body. Wednesday raised her head and looked at me attentively, her cold fingers touching mine.

"Okay," she said simply, her eyes looking at me in a strange way. "But we absolutely have to do it again, now," she said quickly, her eyes watching me closely. "I need to understand something," she added later, her eyes truly expressing curiosity.

I blinked in surprise and leaned towards her, shivering with excitement. Wednesday looked at me attentively and raised her chin, seeing how I was getting dangerously close to her face. I closed my eyes and bridged the gap between our lips, smiling at the moment of the long-awaited kiss. Wednesday melted at the contact and leaned further, her hands gripping my shirt with the urgency to eliminate every inch of distance between our lips. Wednesday sighed against my lips and tilted her head. With my tongue, I tapped her lower lip, shivering with pleasure as I felt the goth opening her mouth, letting me in.

Wednesday's hands tightened on my shirt, and then she pushed me away from her. I blinked incredulously, my eyes seeing her lips swollen from the kiss.

"What did you do to me? I like it," she said with confusion, pure panic in her eyes. "Nothing... maybe... you like me?" I asked rhetorically, and Wednesday turned her head abruptly in my direction.

"I don't feel anything beyond horror, disgust, and annoyance," she apologized, her tone completely irritated and cold. "I don't know, Wed..." I said tiredly as I looked at the goth. "I feel like insects are crawling on my stomach," she added, and I sighed at her words.

I quickly took her chin and kissed her abruptly, Wednesday sighing at the contact. "Do you like it when I kiss you?" I asked with curiosity, my heart beating recklessly. "Yes..." she affirmed coldly.

Wednesday leaned in, and our lips joined again. "And I want to do it again, your lips are delicious... and I want more," she confessed calmly, my cheeks blushing at her words.

"Do you like being with me? Does it bother you if I'm around you?" I asked with curiosity.

"Sometimes," she murmured weakly, her eyes looking at mine with concern.

"If I touch you..." I started, my hand resting on her arm, her muscles tensing at the contact. My fingers slid down her forearm, and Wednesday gradually relaxed, sighing as my fingers intertwined with hers.

"Does it bother you?" I concluded, and Wednesday shook her head.

"Do you like contact in general? Like, if Enid hugs you?" Wednesday raised an eyebrow with confusion and shivered at the thought, her lips curling in disgust.

"No," she confessed and tightened her grip on my hand.

"If I hug Yoko... does it bother you?" I asked, my eyes looking at the goth hopefully.

Wednesday Addams looked at me irritably and nodded.

"So, you're jealous," I said, smiling widely, and Wednesday looked at me with confusion.

"No, jealousy is for relationships," she confessed, and I sighed with frustration.

"All right... I've done the analysis... if you don't want to accept it, it's your problem," I got up from the mattress and walked towards the entrance of her room.

"Y/n," I turned at the sound of her monotonous voice and looked at her expectantly. "Can we keep kissing?" she asked innocently, her eyes looking at me with curiosity. A part of me wanted to refuse because I knew it would be my downfall, and I would suffer a lot, but my heart ardently desired contact with the goth.

"Okay," I said, smiling bitterly, and Wednesday nodded satisfactorily. "Can we do it... slowly? It's hard to assimilate," she continued, and I looked at her with surprise and confusion. "Slowly? Does that mean..." I started incredulously, a smile plastered on my lips.

"I want to discover my feelings with you," she confessed, and her eyes sparkled in a strange way, a dark desire mixing with her brown irises. "You're mine," she concluded, and my heart skipped a beat.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #miércoles addams #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday x y/n #wednsday addams #proposal #addams family #the addams family #curious

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n0t-1nt3r3st1ng · 10 months

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Vulture!Wednesday AU Part - 4

"It's not much of a station really" Eugene said as they went back to the thor floor of the tower. "First floor is mostly unused unless we have to store anything, second is the rest area slash room meeting and the third is where the radio actually is."

"What made you decide on such an arrangement?" Wednesday asked.

"When we first started, it was just us three: Me, Xavier, Rowan. We had to set up everything ourselves and those stairs aren't made to move equipment on them, believe me. Not even with telekinesis. We ended up deciding that if we put something down, that's where it stayed." They talked as they went back to the second floor.

"I see. And what about the programming?"

"There's music during classes, then in the afternoon we alternate depending on the schedules." Eugene replied. "We have three shifts. Three presenters and three DJ's. It sounds more impressive than it is, it's just three people and their friends but it works, more or less."

"How so?"

"Because some of us are actually good at it." A dulcet voice full of self confidence bordering on arrogance spoke.

Wednesday and Eugene turned to see a figure standing at the door frame. It belonged to a relatively tall, dark-skinned young woman with greenish-blue eyes. She had dark hair and a buzzed head and wore a pair of earrings similar to her eye color. Behind her was a tall young man with long brown hair, which he wore out and slicked back. He had striking pale blue-green eyes and defined facial features and was carrying a pair of backpacks.

"Hey Bianca! This is Wednesday Addams, she's the new member of the club! Wednesday, this is Bianca Barclay and Kent, her DJ." Eugene greeted the new arrivals.

"Oh, good, we could use a coffee girl." Bianca snickered, looking at Wednesday. The boy Kent, soon followed through.

"Good thing you have a cupbearer. One may never know what someone might slip into people's drinks or food." Wednesday replied in an even tone. The snickering soon died out.

She didn't like Bianca, Wednesday decided. The feeling was reciprocated, it seems, as Bianca made a disgusted face before turning around and walking up the stairs with Kent following close.

"Sorry about that." Eugene said once the pair was out of sight. "Things are a bit complicated right now."

"I can simplify them, if you wish." Wednesday replied.

"She was Ajax's girlfriend. I think it's the only reason she joined but they broke up during the summer." Eugene explained. He guided her to where the couch was and sat with her.

"And yet she's still here." Wednesday replied.

"I know she's not the most pleasant person to be around but I can't kick her out, the club wouldn't work without her." Eugene said. "She's one of the two people with more online presence here; listeners actually tune in to hear her. Some of them are even Normies."

"And If she were to leave, her audience would leave with her." Wednesday finished.

"Well, it's not that she won't, she can't." Eugene replied. "The day she told me she was out we got called by Weems. There was a water bottle company setting factory here and they had this huge fight with the Mermaids. I don't know how they settled it but they wanted Bianca to be the face of a campaign."

"To show that it is possible to coexist with the Normies?" Wednesday replied in a mocking tone.

"Something like that but in the end all they did was sell their product. Not that the mermaids cared, some people think they did all that just to 'siren' their way into the board. But Weems thought it would be a great PR for the school and Bianca has been here ever since." Eugene replied.

"And she and Ajax are now the presenters for the radio."

"Yeah but on separate shifts."

"With Rowan as his DJ?"

"No, no." Eugene laughed. "He says he doesn't care about it. Xavier has another friend, Ajax, he's his DJ. They should be here soon, we have a club meeting once a week."

"And that leaves the third presenter and DJ." Wednesday shifted her weight.

"Huh?" Eugene replied, confused.

"Three presenters, three DJ's." Wednesday reminded him. "That leaves one pair."

"Oh, yeah, she's the second person with more online presence in the club, and quite popular too. She was supposed to be here half an hour ago. Don't know why she's always late." Eugene replied, checking his watch.

"And does 'She' have a name?"

Eugene was about to reply when the door slammed open. Wednesday stood up, her hands reached for the concealed knives in her uniform ready to fight. Then the newcomers stumbled and fell face down one on top of the other.Something told Wednesday the pair weren't a threat.

"Enid!" Eugene shouted, jumping from his seat to help the pair.

"Hey, don't worry about me, I'm fine." The companion replied.

Wednesday stared at them with fascination.

The first one was a woman of japanese ascent. She had long black hair and her eyes were covered behind blackout glasses.On her hand Wednesday could see the markings of tattoos but the uniform covered them. They seemed to be a bird of some kind. What caught Wednesday's attention about her was the strong smell of sun lotion. She also noticed the girl had remarkably sharp looking canines.

A vampire, Wednesday thought. How odd.

The second person... color. There was no other way to describe what she was seeing right now. A woman too, tall and blonde with blue and pink highlights at the ends.

"Sorry, sorry." The blonde apologized.

When she raised her head, Wednesday could see light freckles across the bridge of her nose. And her eyes. Blue eyes like the sky after a hurricane.

How revolting, she thought.

Eugene helped the pair to stand up and Wednesday could see more of the blonde. She wore the Nevermore uniform with no alterations except for her shoes where she had replaced the normal black laces with bright pink shoelaces. The other point of interest were her nails, each one a different color.

How absolutely revolting.

"Wednesday?" Eugene called and Wednesday realized she had been staring at the newcomer for a bit longer than socially acceptable.

"Apologies, I was surprised." Wednesday coughed "Are you two alright?"

"Oh, yeah, it happens more often than you think." The blonde replied with a bubbly smile.

"It's more or less how we say hi, don't we Enid?" The vampire replied.

Wednesday thought she'd have to get insulin if she was to spend more than five minutes with this girl.

"Okay, I'll let Bianca know we're all here and that we can start." Eugene said, heading to the stairs.

"Wait, where's Xavier?" Enid asked.

"He's busy." Wednesday replied.

"Oh, okay... Ehem, I'm Enid, by the way. Enid Sinclair." She said and extended her hand to greet Wednesday.

"Wednesday Addams." She replied. She didn't shake her hand. Enid stared at her uncomfortably. "Apologies but I can't return the greeting."

"Why not?" Enid replied, her tone a bit hurt.

"Color allergy." She replied and to prove her point - which she didn't need to - showed her black uniform. "Your nails might be a bit more than I can handle."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Enid hurried to say. "Welcome to Nevermore!"

Enid took a step and tried to hug Wednesday. Wednesday took a step back.

"Right, color, sorry." Enid said.

"What happens to you if you couch color?" The vampire asked.

"I break into hives and then the flesh peels off my bone." Wednesday replied. Her eye's never left Enid's.

"That's an...interesting condition to have." The vampire replied.

"Indeed, like a vampire falling to the ground face first." Wednesday's eyes turned to see the vampire this time.

The vampire smiled and one of her fangs peeked out.

"Yoko. Tanaka." Her smile was playful but her tone not so much.

The door opened. A new smell hit the room, one Wednesday didn't recognize. She turned, her interest piqued, to see two arrivals. One being Xavier, who looked worse than he had left, leaning on the other newly arrived. His companion was tall, but just barely. While he wore the Nevermore uniform, shirt was untucked, his blazer unbuttoned, and wore a beanie matching the colors of his uniform.

"Oh my God, what happened?" Enid asked and she dashed to their help.

The beany boy helped Xavier to the couch where he sat with a wince.

"Dude, the little guy is really losing his shit." Yoko said, examining Xavier's wounds.

"I found him on the floor of one of the halls." Beany boy explained. He noticed Wednesday but before he could say anything Eugene, Bianca and Kent came down and witnessed the state of their companion.

Explanations were made, introductions too. Beany boy's name was Ajax. A gorgon and Xavier's DJ. Wednesday had to force herself to pretend to care.

"So, what happens now?" Yoko asked.

"What happens is that little gremlin is out." Bianca spat.

The rest of the group nodded, some mumbbled their approval.

"Let's not rush to a decision." Eugene replied. "Rowan has been with us since the beginning I'm sure if we speak to him-"

"He tossed me to a wall, Eugene." Xavier replied. His breath had become heavier.

Wednesday was a silent spectator of the teenage drama developing in front of her. The group continued to argue among themselves and in her silence, she had been relegated to the side. It was clear Rowan was out.

"He's not even pulling his weight anymore." Yoko exclaimed and Wednesday listened with attention. "He's not fixing issues, he didn't set up online streaming like he promised last year. Are we even sure we have a license for music anymore?"

"Carmilla is right." Bianca said. Yoko gave her the finger. Both smiled at each other. "Rowan is slipping and he's getting dangerous. Why are we even discussing this?"

"Because we still need IT." Eugene replied. "I'm sure we can google most of the stuff but getting them running is another thing."

"In that case I'm happy to offer my services." Wednesday spoke for the first time since the meeting had started.

The group turned to her. It seems they had forgotten all about her. Normally such a situation would be perfect for her but she needed to integrate herself.

"You know about computers?" Enid asked.

"I'll be happy to present my certifications." Wednesday replied. "You'll see I'm more than qualified to assist you."

"I'm not happy about having her with us either." Bianca said pointing at her.

"You don't have to be happy to know I'm more than qualified for the task. Unless, of course, you wish me to leave. In that case.." Wednesday finished and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Enid called to her. "Guys, let's just give her a chance. I mean, it's only fair, right? How about a month?"

"It's not like we have much of a choice." Yoko added.

"Eugene?" Bianca asked, looking at him for support.

"It's just a month." Eugene replied, almost begging.

"I'm sure she'll do fine." Xavier added, giving her an encouraging look.

The others mumbled, all but Kent and Bianca approved.

"Fine." Bianca finally conceded. "But if she starts making weird demands-"

"I do, in fact, have a request." Wednesday interrupted her. The group stared at her while Bianca mouthed 'I knew it' to Eugene. "My interest to join this club was to be a reporter. I simply ask if there's a chance for me to play that role, to keep me in consideration."

"She can come with us!" Yoko said. She ignored the surprised look Enid gave her and continued. "We can use the help!"

"You could use a watch." Bianca replied. "What made you late this time?"

"Oh, haven't you heard?" Yoko replied.

"About what?" Bianca asked and the rest of the group awaited her response, curious.

"The Spider was seen in Jericho!" Yoko replied excitedly.

"Who?" Wednesday asked, much to her confusion.

"You know, the hero from San Francisco?" Xavier replied.

Hero, there was a word it made Wednesday's skin crawl. More and more enhanced people had been coming out ever since the Battle of New York. Not Outcasts, mind you, Enhanced. The normies still made sure to make the distinction.

"You mean the vigilante." Bianca deadpanned. "Oh, this place is gonna turn into a freakshow."

"She helped to stop a robbery at a bank." Enid replied, defensively.

Wednesday could see this was about to turn into another argument and decided to speak up.

"Regardless, I'm happy to be accepted into the club and look forward to working with everyone." She said. "If it's okay with you I'd like to see the equipment I'll be working with."

"I can take you!" Enid rushed to offer and . Wednesday smiled as Enid made a chivalrous gesture to show her the way. "May I take your hand, M'Lady?"

It was obviously a prank, no more. But Wednesday wouldn't miss the opportunity to mess with someone.

"Of course, good sir." She replied and took Enid's hand.

If she had the time, she'd have taken a moment to appreciate the contrast in Enid's hand. Soft, yet strong. Wednesday had no doubt she could pulverize every bone in her hand, yet her touch was gentle.

Instead a shock ran through her body, bending her spine almost to its breaking point while her eyes rolled to the back of her skull.

#vulture!wednesday #wednesday #wenclair #spider!enid #wednesday au #wednesday addams

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lonelyasawhisper · 2 years

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If Queen Won't, Brian May

Sylvie Simmons, Creem, 1st March 1984

SO HERE I am back in the giant Ajax can on Vine Street and waiting for Brian May. I look at my watch; the little hand and the big hand are sticking up like a peace sign; almost noon and it's hard to believe I'm up at this ungodly hour after last night's festivities, let alone the star. (Capitol threw a party to welcome Queen into the Ajax Can family — Elektra won't be getting The Works when it comes out early next year. There were hors d'oeuvres, aperitifs, and talking of a pair of teeths, Freddie Mercury, Roger Taylor, John Deacon and Brian May.) This is not the usual fluorescent-lit room where Duran Duran posters smirk cheekbonely from the walls. This is a cozy chamber tucked around the back somewhere, through convoluted corridors and up and down staircases — couldn't find it again even if you threatened me with a night at Plato's with Steve Perry — dark and small as a confession box...

I confess! I know I shouldn't; I know there's a reputation to consider; I know Mötley Crüe told me just the other day that they're "the opposite" of this band. But I LIKE QUEEN. There, I've said it. Not only do I have all their albums (except Hot Space; I'm not that daft) but I sing 'Bohemian Rhapsody' in its entirety at the slightest provocation. And the Brian May-penned 'Flash' is probably the best sci-fi theme tune in the Universe.

Though Brian may not agree. For one, the title track on the first album he's ever done outside of Queen just happens to be a sci-fi theme tune called 'Star Fleet'; for another he's so modest and understated you virtually have to beat the bloke with rubber truncheons to get him to admit that Queen are pretty big.

Anyway, the Star Fleet Project is a mini album — as May's own liner notes say, it's "not your normal kind of album; not an album which has been 'thoughtfully pieced together by a coordinated band as a balanced and polished listening experience.' Not a Queen album." Certainly isn't. All three songs — 'Star Fleet', the theme from a Japanese Saturday morning sci-fi program that shows on English TV that Brian got hooked on thanks to his young son Jimmy, 'Let Me Out', a song Brian wrote for Queen years ago that was never used, and 'Blues Breaker', dedicated to Eric Clapton, the man whose axe-work with Cream inspired a 15-year-old May to build his own electric guitar — were recorded over a two-day period back in April during a break from the year-around Queen boxing match. At loose ends, Brian called up some music friends in Los Angeles and jammed. Yes — jammed. What they used to do in the old days when musicians spent more time with each other than their accountants. Anyway, after much thought — and a bit of persuasion from Heavy Pettin', a British rock band he was producing on the side who heard the tapes and drooled — and more red tape, the jamming session got put out as pure and untouched as Michael Jackson, and credited to Brian May And Friends. His friends? Neighbor Alan Gratzer of REO Speedwagon, Phil Chen, ex-Rod Stewart bassist, Fred Mandel, the former Alice Cooper member who showed up on Queen's last tour, and on co-lead, Eddie Van Halen. (The two met when Brian caught Van Halen's set on a Black Sabbath tour and got friendlier when they met up again in Germany and confessed to being mutual fans.)

Brian May has just walked into the chamber, right on time. He's tall, got the same hairdo he's had for years, an intent expression on his face and a soft, very English voice.

"We had some time off from the group which we forced on ourselves," he's saying about why he's just done a record that sounds like it could have been made any time in the past 11 years Queen's been together. "We felt, Queen, that we'd got too close to each other and we needed a break. We all do different things — Roger's been making an album, Freddie's been doing stuff with Michael Jackson, John's been doing all kinds of stuff with computers and weird machines, and I thought, 'Why don't I do something?' Most of my favorite musicians were around L.A. where I was, and they all said 'yeah, great, let's go and do it.' Which really surprised me; I thought people would say yeah great, but we're busy.' So I booked the Record Plant and we went in and tried it, and it worked out better than I could ever have dreamed. One of the best times of my life, really."

He doesn't have too many friends in the business, he says. "They are pretty well my best friends, but also some of my favorite players." They're also veterans of some of the most commercially successful, richest mainstream rock bands around. By doing this project, did they reckon they'd show us they weren't in it for the money alone?

"I don't think anything like that was in our minds. There was never any talk of it coming out to begin with — it was just to be in there playing really, and I was quite prepared to leave it that way. Possibly to prove something to myself — that I could play with other musicians and enjoy it, and make something worthwhile."

If he's saying Queen hasn't been making anything worthwhile lately, there's a lot of people who couldn't agree more. Like Hot Space frinstance.

"There's a lot about Hot Space I didn't like. But at the same time," Brian covers himself, "it was probably, in retrospect, the right thing to do at the time, because we had to investigate all those different avenues and get all those bits of R&B influence out of our systems. No, part of the problem with us, the group, was we got so close to each other that familiarity breeds contempt, and we didn't like the way each other played anymore. That was one of the things that happened six months ago. And now, having got outside it and seen a lot of other people. I realize that the other three are pretty good. And I think they've had the same experience. We appreciate each other a bit more now. After this record I came back to the group much fresher. You get to understand how other people play, and you realize that everybody has their own style, and I found that I was a bit more patient with John and Roger and Freddie. Also what I got from stepping outside was realizing what other people think of us as individuals and as a group."

And did he kill himself? "Well, they thought we were pretty good — which surprised me!" He obviously didn't get to poll the people who dismiss Queen as a pretentious sort of band. Brian chuckles. And this Star Fleet Project has to be one of the most unpretentious records a superstar musician has ever made, casually put together and released without the usual sheen and polish a Queen album goes through before seeing the light of day.

"Well it is very different, and that's part of why it was a release for me. I wouldn't agree with you that Queen are pretentious, but I know what you mean. Queen are a group who've always been — everything has to be perfect before it gets out. It's worked on and worked on and argued about and talked about and torn to bits and put back together. We work to keep the spontaneity in there, but nevertheless it was nice in this case to do something which worked immediately, the adrenalin from the fact you'd never played with these people before, and everyone feeling good. I had no desire to interfere with it."

Has Queen lost its excitement? When you've got so many followers and so much success that you can even put out an album like Hot Space and it sells, when you can flash a credit card and get a record co. employee to go out and charge up anything your little heart desires, doesn't it all get a bit boring?

"It's funny you should say that because that never goes through my mind. I certainly don't feel we could do anything. For instance, last night at the party — I suppose everyone's very up about a new deal and a new album, but I was very depressed underneath it all really because what I think about is still the music. And we'd just had a play-back to the record company, and I was really desperately unhappy about the way it sounded. And I couldn't even think about we're a huge rock group, all the things you're saying. All I could think about was I'd hated what I'd heard and I was ashamed of it. I don't really think about what Queen looks like to the outside world very much. I think about what it feels like. It has had its good moments and I think we can play some good stuff; but it also has some really awful moments."

A lot of the Outside World who do think about Queen probably think it's Freddie's band. He thinks of a direction, everyone fights a bit, but generally follow meekly behind. True?

"It's a continual fight, because we all have very definite ideas of what direction we want to go in, and none of them are the same. It's a continual battle and it's very democratic and it's very painful. Most of the time when we're recording, it's hell. You have this constant dividing line between being up and positive about what you're doing, and the other side is that you may be trying to push what you want down someone else's throat, and maybe the other three will take it for a little while but in the end they'll say, 'No, this is rubbish, we hate it, stop pushing.' And that's what's happened a lot.

"I had a very clear idea in my head of what I wanted [the new Queen album] to be. It's an oversimplification, but I wanted it to be more of a rock album. But I obviously pushed too hard in the early days, and everyone got very angry with me and said 'Look, stop. Don't tell us what to play.' And then you take three steps back and try and work it out again. That's happened with all of us. We all feel that suddenly we can see a path ahead and the other three can't see it at all, and that makes it really hard.

"The plus of it is that after you've had your arguments and found an intermediate course at least you've already been through a vast political process, and the stuff which does come out has been through a gigantic sieve. So I think in the end you come out with stuff which is a real group product, and it's better than any of us could do as a solo artist. I honestly think that, and that's why I'm still in Queen. I think the group is still better than any of its component parts."

So is the next Queen album going to be a rock album? (Bumped into Roger Taylor at the party and he slurred that it was definitely "very heavy — one side of the album especially will definitely give you brain damage")

"So far," nods Brian, "I think, in spite of all the shouting, it is."

When a group member leaves the fold to do his first album, it's usually "OK, here I am. Me, the Star." But Star Fleet isn't a flashy guitar album or ego showcase. What gives?

"I don't think I am a flashy kind of person really. When I come to do a solo album — maybe one day I will — I've no idea what it will be like. This isn't it. This is just an event of some people having fun together, and that's the way it should be looked at. I don't know what is me, if that's what you're asking. That's one of the difficulties I've had in thinking about a solo album. Because on the one hand I would like to do all heavy stuff, because I don't feel I've got enough outlet for the heavy stuff in Queen; on the other hand I'd like to do some guitar arrangements and continue the guitar-orchestra direction, which again we've sort of left alone for a while in the group. Then again I like to sing songs that have a lot of personal feeling for me, which also sometimes doesn't fit into the group framework."

Hasn't he ever had the temptation to leap out onstage, push Freddie into the wings and grab the limelight, just once?

"No, I'm very happy with how it is. I get my bit to do. As you say, I can be flash for a while and then blend into the group, and I'm very content with that."

That's the one thing Brian and Eddie Van Halen have in common. They're both pretty low profile guitarists in bands with the most outrageously flashy frontmen on earth. Do they feel any kinship there?

"Yes, a lot. There are parallels, obviously. The whole business of what roles people play in groups is something which interests me very much for its own sake, because you do find that the bass player is always a certain kind, the guitarist is usually a certain kind of person. I don't know whether it's the selection process or whether it's an environmental change process [I forgot to mention; he has a degree in physics!] — you can see those elements in the component parts of groups. Guitarists do tend to be like that, people who feel they have a lot to say but don't really want to be in the center of the stage doing it; they want to be at the side doing their bit and enjoying it and getting into it and not having the responsibility for what the singer does."

And if you're expecting any guitar duels on this album, forget it. Instead of playing superstars, trying to outdo the last lick, they're like a couple of polite gentlemen going "After you"; "No, after you."

"I think we're very alike, and there's no feeling of competition there because we both love what the other person is doing. Particularly in my case. My first reaction to seeing Edward was I didn't want to play with him because he's so great. And then my second reaction was I wanted to pick up the guitar and play with him. Because we're so different in playing, but we're very alike in the way we think. There's no duel there, and I'm glad you said that because I was frightened people would think Guitar Battle kind of rubbish. Just people enjoying each other's company really. And it's not just me and Edward — it's me and Alan and Philip and Fred. We were all in there, and it was a good interaction all round.

"I still think, sometimes, am I being foolish putting this out? But then every time I listen to it I get this great feeling about it. It's so real and live and personal that I hope that other people will get that feeling about it."

With all the members of Queen going their separate ways, there's always the risk that they might forget to get back together again. Does Queen still feel like a real band?

"It does again now. There have been a few crises in our history, and one of them was about six months ago, when we could have easily said, 'Look, we hate each other, let's forget it.' And it almost was that. But instead we said 'look, we're all getting very intense with each other because we haven't had a break for ages, and we've been in this endless make-an-album-tour-the-world-make-an-album cycle; so let's get out of it for a while and maybe we'll appreciate each other.' And it's worked pretty well. We got back together and we feel like a real band again."

Retrieved from The Creem Archive

#article #interview #brian may #creem #star fleet project #1984 #queen band #bri

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michaeljudith578 · 4 months

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What Can Be Learned from an Internship at Top Football Club Ajax?

Inside Scoop on Swiss Football: Interview with JAAP VROOM about his Student Internship Experience at Ajax Football Club I have always had ambitions to work at the club level, especially at my dream club: Ajax. Thanks to my previous work experiences, I saw a clear opportunity and seized it without hesitation - and with positive results! My internship program included two main phases: 6 weeks in one department and another 6 weeks in a different department. In the first period, I had the chance to work in match operations. This involved supporting the daily operations of the cooperation partner hotels within Ajax Football Club. The tasks also included preparation work for Ajax matches and European away matches. In doing so and through on-site observations, I saw up close how maintaining relationships with partners works and how the whole process operates, and I got to know many people in the industry. If I had to point out some highlights from this period, I would definitely say the Champions League matches. In my view, it's a special experience you can't find anywhere else other than in a football club, especially one like Ajax! The second part of my internship was about strategy. I was instructed to do research and voice my opinions in the process, which made me feel valued. That period took place during the Qatar World Cup, and one of the studies I did was about the situation in that country and whether this would impact clubs like Ajax. This research "forced" me to look at the World Cup from different perspectives and angles in different ways. I found them challenging but most importantly very interesting. This project allowed me to stay in contact with many managers within the club and be assigned to develop dashboards together with different stakeholders, delving deep into this topic through weekly updates of media value. It was a very challenging task. In addition to my own department, it gave me the opportunity to see other departments within Ajax and talk to them!

#match operations internship

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 2 years

Note

oo I saw your event and it seems fun :DD

May I have

- packaged tea

- loose leaves

- Digital AU

- Sugar cubes and Cardamom

- with the teaset of Crystalline Glass

Your event is really unique and it's so cute

Remember to take your time and hydrate <33

- Tired

Link to the tea blends list

Digital AU, a ginger blend! With sugar cubes and cardamom, you're guaranteed a sweet, spiced cup of tea!

Let's see what this wish entails...

~ * ~

Digital AU Headcanons set in Snezhnaya, inspired by the words "Napping" and "Domestic"

Fluff

Digital AU- An AU where Genshin Impact is an incredibly popular and immersive video game that you enjoy playing, and Childe is a sentient character in-game

Warnings for allusions to fighting and panicking

Partially based off one of my previous fics, Digital Heart! But can hopefully be read as a standalone

~ * ~

-Snezhnaya, the nation of Cryo, home of the Archon Tsaritsa -The coldest of the seven nations, its citizens wear thick layers and furs to keep out the biting, icy storm of their Archon’s quiet fury -That was the LORE at least. To YOU it’s an annoying game mechanic called Sheer Cold but it’s permanent now that constantly freezes you and your characters to death -Luckily the one thing Genshin can’t do, despite being such an immersive game, is make sheer cold affect your real body, so you’re toasty and warm inside your home while you play -Still, your team keeps losing HP and there’s never enough fire to go around so you’re more than happy to waltz into a Fatui base like you own the place if it means getting warmed up -It’s dark and eerie in the domain, but at least it warms your avatar to the bone as you step past the threshold, weapon in hand and artifacts ready -The first several enemies are easy enough to beat, your damage and critical hits slicing through shields and health. There’s a story alongside it but to be entirely honest you’re not paying much attention -The entire plot of Genshin Impact has been muddled to you ever since your encounter with a seemingly sentient character, the Fatui Harbinger Childe -Tartaglia -Ajax -Whatever. You’ve done his story quest and the main archon quests and you still can’t wrap your head around the fact that this guy has THREE NAMES -It happened during the Golden House battle, phase three, when he twisted the Abyssal magic in his body to transform into Foul Legacy -Usually you were quite focused and skilled during these virtual battles, but you’d been so caught up in just staring at Childe’s Foul Legacy form that you had gotten distracted and tripped, falling flat onto your back -Of course you’d expected the preprogrammed Childe to take his chance at such an opening, only for him to drop to his knees, this great Abyssal monster, and whine to you, polearm cast aside and static filling his voice -And then your game had crashed, and you cursed your horrid, horrid luck -Since then every attempt to re-enter Golden House resulted in your game crashing again or lagging so fiercely you were forced to shut it down -It was almost like the game didn’t WANT you to fight Childe, and all you could do was thank the Archons that you didn’t need any of the ascension materials from that domain -You strike down the last Fatui soldier with a shrug. Maybe one day you’d find out what happened, but until then the rest of Genshin ran smooth as silk so you tried not to think about it -The doors to what you assume is the boss battle room loom before you, strangely familiar as you shove them open without a care in the world -Only to immediately freeze when you come face to face with the Eleventh Harbinger -He grins, weapon in hand as he starts speaking dialogue you’re not really hearing, instead opting to stare him down as you watch for any breaks in programming, any hesitance or uncertainty -There’s none as he speaks, keeping up the same mocking, charming tone and same irritating smirk. Soon his voicelines taper out as he completes his speech. What was it about? The Tsaritsa, maybe -His spiel is over, yet no one moves. Not him, not you, other than how your eyes are narrowing as you glare at him -The edge of his grinning face twitches -Then suddenly he doubles over, sparks and stars surrounding him and you leap back to summon your weapon. Is his fight going to BEGIN with Foul Legacy? How many phases are there? What new moves does he have? Questions that run through your mind as his beautiful form floats before you -His polearm clatters to the ground before you can even take a step forward and he rushes towards you, stopping mere inches away from your face -He kneels to meet your eyes with his own as an overjoyed smile stretches across his jagged maw, and a deep, slightly electronic rumbling sound fills your ears -You remember this sound, you heard it so long ago in the House of Mora -You blink, taking notice of his outstretched hand that certainly wasn’t there before. Childe

trills and extends it to you more. He’s been awake for so long, waiting to see you again, even if he is simply a bundle of pixels -Hesitantly you place your own hand onto his upturned palm, and there’s something there. It’s not completely solid and corporal but it’s there because he’s real and he’s purring in your ears at the delight of finally being able to hold your hand -His claws gently trace over your fingers as you stand, shellshocked, before Childe brings your hand to his face and presses it to his cheek with a happy coo -You can feel yourself starting to panic at the creeping thought of losing him again, and almost instinctively you grab his talons and pull him quickly into your Serenitea Pot, your own personal domain -In a shimmer of golden light you’re both standing at the front doors of your mansion, Tubby the Teapot Spirit floating amicably nearby -Childe perks up when he opens his ocean-blue eye, staring at the light-filled realm with awe and poking the edges of the swaying grass -You’ve never been much for Teapot Companions, so your home is completely devoid of life until you guide Childe inside, his claws and your shoes clicking in rhythm on the floorboards -He’s almost vibrating with excitement as you sweep your arm towards your house to let him explore with a nervous laugh, still trying to comprehend the whole situation -You can hear your new friend’s thumping footsteps as he investigates your decorated house, and you sit down at the table and exhale, completely unsure what to do. You can’t just take him with you, can you? It’ll mess up the entire game- but oh, you can’t just leave him! He’s alive and here and awake -A distant chirp pulls you out of your thoughts and you follow the sound, climbing the stairs to your room and pushing open the already ajar door to find Childe bundled up in a nest of blankets, purring contently -He croons at you, lifting a blanket to reveal a perfectly-sized space next to him. A soft smile worms its way onto your face as you crouch down and join him under the covers, pressing against his not-quite-there body as your eyes begin to droop shut -When you startle yourself awake from the sensation of falling asleep logged on, Childe is peacefully slumbering beside you, his arms wrapped around your torso -You frown, tapping your finger against your chin. Obviously you don’t need to eat in-game, but if Childe is sentient and alive in some way he probably needs to eat, right? With the dexterity of a snake you wriggle your way out of his arms, making sure to cover him back up with the blankets before heading down to the kitchen -Before long you’ve whipped up a delicious meal (some of which are healing dishes just in case) and are just sprinkling the final dash of pepper on the eggs when you hear a whine from behind you and feel a chin rest itself on your head -You reach up to scritch around Childe’s horns, the movement coming as naturally as walking, as he peeks over your shoulder -You feed him tastes of the food as you cook, hoping they’re decent enough to eat because you can’t try them yourself. From his reactions the dishes seem passable at the very least! -He purrs and rumbles all throughout the meal, even helping you clean by handing you dishes to be put away as he stares at the enticingly bright sunlight outside -Once you’re done cleaning you catch his expression and laugh, flinging open the front doors to the rest of your realm as he warbles in delight and leaps outside, rolling around in the grass and bathing in the sunlight, and when you sit next to him he plops his head in your lap, your semi-real hands brushing over his mask -Yes, he’ll stay here, here with you, where it’s warm and sunny and full of light, and where he never has to touch a bow or polearm again, only hold you close as you shower him with affection -Here with you, the two living beings in all of Teyvat

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #gi ajax #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #foul legacy x reader #tired anon #HFSNNDJKS SNEZHNAYA IS THERE BUT I SAW DOMESTIC AND COULDN'T RESIST DOING IT PARTIALLY IN THE SERENITEA POT #HOPEFULLY YOU STILL ENJOY THESE THO!!!!#PLEASE FEEL FREE TO REQUEST AGAIN IF IT'S NOT WHAT YOU WANTED <33 #ok but now i'm thinking about Serenitea Pot headcanons......#living with moth in there?? making a garden???? cooking???? yeah #enjoy my dear!!!!#thank you!!! i am so proud of myself for coming up with this event!!!#i am hydrated do not worry!!! :D #wifi writes #tea shoppe event #digital au

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rqnvindr · 3 years

Text

delicacies

pairing: baker!childe x gn!reader

genre: fluff, modern bakery!au, suggestive

w.c: 1.5k

warnings: making out lol

synopsis: moving to a new country was quite the adventure. and you found new areas to travel further within the cute boy right down the road’s ocean eyes.

it had been a total of two weeks since you arrived in italy. getting settled was your top priority, but now that you’ve got your place set up and are getting used to college life in a new country, it was about time you started checking off some of the more leisurely activities on your checklist.

the streets were clearer, less busy than usual, on the weekend you enter the bakery. it seemed like an unpretentious, small business, with the simple, yet homely, beige walls and the old vinyl in the corner playing soft tunes. the bell rings when you enter, but no one seems to be behind the counter when you examine the array of cakes in the front display.

“welcome! i can help you when you’re ready to order!” a perky male voice interrupts you in the middle of eyeing a slice of strawberry cake. you look up to see a ginger with a warm smile, the crinkles around his blue eyes genuine.

“hello! i was hoping to get this slice of cake right here.” you point to said strawberry treat.

“ah yes. my older brother has been WAITING for someone to try his new signature strawberry cake. but there honestly can’t be anything special about something that tastes the same no matter what.” you can practically hear the way he rolls his eyes as he takes the cake out to put it in a box.

you raise an eyebrow. “complaining about your own products? that doesn’t seem like a very good marketing strategy, but i suppose reverse psychology will do its job.”

“you sound like you know about sales quite a bit.” he smiles wryly. “are you a business major?”

“yup! i actually just moved here to study at the local university for an overseas program.” you only knew this guy for a maximum of 30 seconds, and he had already seemed so open and was able to read you like a book. it made you want to know more about him in exchange.

“so your family bakes everything here?” you ask.

“yes we do! my parents usually do the baking while my siblings and i work varying shifts here up front or stocking up the inventory. but we too, also experiment with different recipes to sell new things.”

you hum in response. “you must have a lot of siblings then.”

the boy chuckles in response. “i do. i don’t know what i’d do without them.” he sounded so happy while talking about his family and it made you feel warm just hearing about how they worked together.

“is this a competition for how much we can learn about each other within a span of a few minutes.” he smirks. “when we haven’t even learnt each others names yet?”

you inspect his attire, pausing at a name tag pinned to his shirt pocket. “ajax? nice to meet you, i’m (y/n).”

“well, (y/n), hope to see you again after trying my brother’s cake. hope it makes you realize that you gotta go for the chocolate or vanilla, not something that wasn’t meant to be a dessert in the first place.”

“i mean it was good so i came back for another one?” you can’t help but laugh when the same boy you met at the counter last week shakes his head.

“and you came to order right around closing time too, huh? guess this makes you a new challenge for me.” you avert your gaze to the ground, suddenly feeling nervous from his chastising.

“fine, you can lose the pouty face. i’ll accept your questionable taste just this one last time.” he pushes his hair back with a sigh after packing up your order and you catch yourself staring.

and of course, just when you allow yourself to indulge in the sight of a mysterious sea of unanswered questions in his blue eyes, he locks eyes with you. he knows you’re checking him out, causing him to smirk coyly.

“ajax,” you begin, preventing the atmosphere from heading somewhere more tense. “have you lived here all of your life?”

“as a matter of fact, no i haven’t. my family has been around, but i think we’ve finally found where we’re supposed to belong here. i’ve been living here long enough for people to start calling me by two different names too. ‘tartaglia’ and also ‘childe’.”

hm. so he was attractive and went by multiple names....

“‘tartaglia’? interesting, sounds like you’ve even earned yourself a name amongst the locals here.”

“i don’t know why they named me after the guy from that one play, though. maybe it’s because i leave a little bit of a stutter in people’s lives.” childe winks.

stutter, huh.

you thought he was just being a boastful young man. until you found yourself just happening to visit the bakery during times you predicted he’d be there.

childe was like a peacock strutting his stuff out in the open, captivating, and divine. you had never met someone so adventurous yet down to earth at the same time. one moment he’d be bragging about his ventures with his friends, and then next thing you knew he’d do a 180 if his little brother called in the middle of your conversation.

it wasn’t just his actions. he grew more bold with his words too. eyes shooting stars as he looked you up and down, noticing the new outfit you wore just for him when he purred about how good you looked and how it was always a treat to have someone as sweet as you visit after a long day at work.

he was always full of surprises. you’re reminded of that when you find him standing behind the counter in a hoodie and jeans instead of his usual work attire.

“what’s up? disappointed that i’m not wearing the apron?” childe exits the space separating you two, and stands dangerously close to you. “don’t worry, i can put it back on when i show you the new frosting i’m working on.” he chuckles and rubs your shoulder, the small exchange of body heat making you feel warm all over.

“a new product, huh? is this to help your family business or to compete with your siblings?” you watch him count the cash at the register with your hands tucked underneath your chin.

“sweetheart, even a guy like me can take on baking as a hobby rather than just a way to make ends meet or pick fights.” with that, he slides the cash register drawer closed. “come on, it should be processed by now.”

you slowly follow childe into the back. as promised, he puts the apron over his casual clothes, the sight rather domestic.

he dips his finger into the light pink frosting after giving it one last stir and licks it off. the sight makes you shiver and lick your own lips.

“mmm. so i guess strawberry does taste pretty good. if done right of course.”

“what made you change your mind, mr.strawberry-anti?” you smirk.

“baking is a delicacy. i was never a ‘strawberry-anti’, just wary of how it’s supposed to mesh with desserts for the sake of compliancy. i made this frosting to test it out some more, and as a special treat. for you.”

before you can receive his gesture to claim your treat, childe gives you the same glimmering look that he always uses before pulling at your heartstrings even further.

and it becomes way too much for you to handle when he leans his face closer to yours.

“here, have a taste.” childe teasingly presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. he continues to leave gentle pecks on your lips, and you let out shaky breaths every time he pulls away.

“why did you stop?” you whine and he hovers over your entire body this time, pushing your hips onto the counter.

“hm, not enough? come closer then.” you wrap your arms around his neck, this time, getting a real taste of his creation when he claims your mouth whole.

you grip onto his hair when he adds more pressure into the kiss, pulling especially harder when he nibbles on your bottom lip. as if having unlocked the key to your greatest depths, he effortlessly slides his tongue into your mouth, and you moan upon tasting the lingering strawberry flavor mixed with the feeling of your tongues connecting.

much to your dismay, you both pull away for air. your breaths mingle hotly before he coaxes you into taking a bit more for yourself. not long after you savor the sweetness, childe’s lips are back on yours. the way he sucks the cream off your lips makes your head spin, making you forget about everything else but this one boy in front of you, the mystery boy in a foreign country who sent you through a rollercoaster during only your first month of living here.

“ajax...” you breathe out his name when he lets go of your now swollen and red lips. the boy proceeds to kiss your cheek and jawline gently, laughing softly against your skin.

“i can’t help it, baby. it tastes even better on you.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #childe x reader #childe fluff #childe imagines #childe scenarios

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eggmarr · 3 years

Text

genshin boys but they’re orchestra nerds

characters: zhongli, diluc, childe, kaeya

a/n: this is literally the most random thing but i’m feeling really self indulgent right now so here, maybe a part two with something different idk. also my orchestra knowledge only extends to the high school level so far so just keep that in mind kk? (also if you wanna know i play violin so yes i am the leading expert on orchestra nerds/j)

(kinda high school au/vaguely modern au, gender neutral but mentions of girl-majority fan clubs, mild “i’m not like others” mentality of teen age, and very little suggestive themes)

———-/

zhongli

he is the upperclassman first violin who takes his school breaks to help teach the other younger classes, the one each member looks up to with some mix of envy and attraction when the teacher continuously praises his posture and technique. the younger girls swoon over him, and you swear he must be keeping the program running just from the new recruits hoping to catch the eye of such a talented young man. you’re really only there with him for the extra credit, but he’s just so...him. does that make sense?

first violins in a string orchestra generally carry the melodies of pieces, and as a result the section itself is highly desired. nothing is wrong with being a second violin, it just couldn’t be zhongli aha; concert black is like all black dresswear, which differs from place to place. it’s usually dress pants and a nice shirt, but different areas can have things like uniforms or specific dress.

you are quite staunchly against being a cliche, but by the stars if he doesn’t stop being so charming and smart with that voice of his every time you join him with the younger grades, you’re going to make a very stupid decision the next time you see him in concert black.

diluc

most definitely a bass player. mysterious and somewhat enigmatic, a quiet private lessons kid who volunteered to play with your class to offset the amount of smaller instruments. the others gossip amongst themselves about how his backpack is emblazoned with the crest of a famous academy and how they’d very much like to “test his vibrato technique” (wink-wonk), but you spot how a small cord of blue beads dangles from his backpack and the way he keeps a small smile even as he’s rolling his eyes at someone on the other line of the call.

vibrato is a technique used to warble and waver the sound of the string, which you may have seen used in media occasionally (it’s basically that finger movement they do while playing). the string bass is a big instrument and i mean,,, diluc in a blazer and collared shirt with a high ponytail feels like something that appeals to a lot of people

his brother is rather moody, but at least kaeya knows when to back off (most of the time). but the way diluc looks at you when you’re looking away - he wouldn’t be so mad with a wingman, would he?

childe

first chair viola. this smug, flirty little rich boy has been a pain in your ass since you met him at the organized rehearsal, and were (begrudgingly) sat to his right at the connection of your sections. i mean, this is a collective of the best student players in the state, and he’s…challenging you to bowfence with him? there’s someone strange about this “childe,” and you’re going to find out before the three days are up.

childe would play viola just because it’s the most slandered instrument so naturally he wants to master it and become best at it. bowfencing is like the young orchestra kid’s show of dominance and only flirting technique until they adapt. this is based lightly off of my time with all state/all city orchestra, but it differs from place to place.

you’ve finally got some free time right before the performance, when you see the boy you babysit on the weekends; teucer, with his older siblings tonia and anthon at the door. oh, they’re not here with your family, but here for their brother? you’ve heard a lot about this sweetheart, why don’t they point him out before the concert so you can finally meet the elusive ajax?

kaeya

also viola, but much more casual about it. it’s his hobby, which is code for he saw how his adoptive family treasured their expensive talents and wanted something to share with his new and distant brother. a new student transfer; he says he’s practically inept at it but the calluses on his fingertips beg to differ. the teacher makes you his tour guide, and you squint at his mannerisms when a wave of deja vu overcomes your senses. but, who is this boy, and why does the look of blue hair in low light look so familiar?

kaeya originally wanted to play bass but in typical brotherly fashion, he and diluc made a bet which he lost. chamber music is usually played by a small group of players, with each one having a single part. yes, this is a childhood friends/light amnesia trope, don’t blame me blame netflix for making wish dragon so cute ok? good.

you and he are from two different lives, but he’ll be damned if he lets those circumstances tear the two of you apart again. being partnered for the end-of-year chamber project is supposed to be his saving grace, but perhaps a red-haired deux ex machina may be of better use here?

#i finished this while listening to one direction #i honestly don't know what this is i just know bass player diluc #this looks so messy but i don't understand dividers yet so #fellow orchestra players tell me how accurate i am before i combust/j #i put so many tropes in here lmao #i would have done more characters but i know nothing about band or chorus other than that orchestra is better/hj #zhongli is just eddy from twosetviolin ok i realize it now #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader

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txtniipped · 3 years

Text

red rover, red rover

genshin impact -- childe/zhongli, zhongli & qiqi, childe & qiqi

modern au / female zhongli / implied thoughts of infidelity (1856 words)

ao3 version

Zhongli hasn’t caught sight of their new neighbor yet. However, she can only imagine them as one of two people: a young lady with a busy schedule, who knows how to be brutally efficient in the mornings before Zhongli is even up, tending to her rose bushes’ every need and then disappearing to go to her day job, or an older gentleman with ample time on his hands, shelves lined with every horticulture book known to man, who just so happens to be excellent at avoiding Zhongli’s watchful eye.

Zhongli is a housewife lacking the love she deserves. Though, between her darling daughter Qiqi and their new neighbor, she's appreciated for everything under the sun.

The apartment across the yard has been empty for a few months now.

For Zhongli, the patio and soft grass between the buildings outweigh the stomping of neighbors upstairs. She’s seen the lackluster balcony gardens some of the other tenants maintain. It’s not due to a lack of trying, oh no--even the most dedicated of gardeners can only do so much with so little room. Her little Qiqi’s garden, however, flourishes under both the space and care they can offer it. Several of the other ground floor tenants, Zhongli knows, strive to have plants as well loved as theirs.

When beautiful new rose bushes seem to appear across the yard, planted carefully around the little patio connected to the usually-empty apartment, Zhongli is surprised, to say the least.

She hasn’t caught sight of their new neighbor yet. However, she can only imagine them as one of two people: a young lady with a busy schedule, who knows how to be brutally efficient in the mornings before Zhongli is even up, tending to her rose bushes’ every need and then disappearing to go to her day job, or an older gentleman with ample time on his hands, shelves lined with every horticulture book known to man, who just so happens to be excellent at avoiding Zhongli’s watchful eye.

Her first guess seems to be the correct one, when several days later, the previously empty apartment’s slider opens, and out steps a young lady--a touch younger than Zhongli imagined--with a head of fiery, messy curls. To her surprise though, a young man follows her out, a handful of years older than the girl most likely, sporting similar hair and a proud smile as the young lady seemingly inspects the bushes.

Zhongli watches from her living room as the young lady stands and smooshes her (presumably) brother’s face, who laughs as he grabs her wrists and tugs them away. They chat there for a moment, and then the young man pulls a cutesy watering can out from just inside the slider door, steps around his sister, and begins watering the roses.

It’s late in the evening, and normally around this time, Zhongli is helping Qiqi bathe and get ready for bed. Tonight, however, Qiqi is staying the night with the other family with a child in this section of the complex--her first ever sleepover. Zhongli’s husband doesn’t return until nearly midnight on the weekends, so she’s left alone for the first time in their little apartment in many moons with just her teacup and her books.

With her reading light on next to her, Zhongli realizes she must have been obviously staring at them, if the brother turning and looking directly at her is any indication. The young man pulls on a smile though and offers Zhongli a wave. She waves back mildly, somewhat caught off guard, widening the young man’s smile. He turns back towards his sister then, who’s also looking in Zhongli’s direction, and escorts her inside, that cutesy watering can still gripped in his hand.

Zhongli hopes she’ll see him around more often now.

As it just so happens, she does.

The young man seems to work on the weekdays, while on the weekends he usually appears midday on his patio, athletic wear on as he leaves through his slider with nothing but his phone and a pair of earbuds. She’s purposefully looking out for him now, and when he returns home sweaty and panting, Zhongli turns her gaze elsewhere.

It’s early Thursday evening when she finally talks to him, only after nearly bolting out into the yard in panic after hearing Qiqi’s soft voice choke up and dissolve into sobs. Zhongli nearly rips the screen door off to get to her child when she sees the young man knelt in the grass in front of Qiqi, a first aid kit lying open next to them.

The young man’s voice is soft as he asks Qiqi about her day, doing what he can to distract her as he pulls thorns from her little hand. Qiqi, normally not one for conversation with anyone she doesn’t know, answers through her blubbering, doing her best to tell the young man the plot of a children's book her teacher read to them today.

Qiqi’s no longer crying by the time the young man is wrapping the last bandage around her finger. Zhongli can’t help but notice the colorful characters printed on them, some she vaguely recognizes from when Qiqi’s cartoons switch over to the older kid’s programming in the afternoon. Zhongli only has a moment to wonder if maybe this new neighbor has a kid of his own before the two have gotten up from the grass and walked their way over to her, still in the doorway of her apartment.

“Hi, Mama,” Qiqi greets quietly as she gently pulls her hand from their neighbor’s, stepping forward to instead get picked up by Zhongli.

“Hello, darling.” As soon as Qiqi is settled on her hip, Zhongli lifts a hand to brush some of Qiqi’s hair out of her face, speaking once more. “Are you alright?” A nod. Zhongli turns her attention to their neighbor from there. “What happened?” The smile the young man gives her is a bit on the guilty side, like he had personal responsibility for a child that isn’t even his. “She tried to pick one of my roses with her bare hands, ma’am,” he answers, voice boyish and, frankly, lovely. “I was just coming outside as she tried--I didn’t react in time. But, uh,” he pauses, one of his hands lifting to rub the back of his neck. “I keep a first aid kit right by the door, so she didn’t suffer for long.”

“Oh,” Zhongli replies, blinking at the man. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” He says with a bit of a laugh, though Zhongli can hear the slight nerve in his voice anyway. Surely she’s not intimidating in her cooking apron of all things.

“Well,” Zhongli starts, returning her gaze to her daughter. “What do we say, Qiqi?” Qiqi squirms under the gaze of her mother, her face flushing as she tucks herself up against Zhongli, mumbling her thanks to the air behind Zhongli instead of towards their neighbor. The young man laughs good-naturedly regardless, his stiff shoulders relaxing with Qiqi’s shyness.

“You’re welcome, Qiqi. Oh!” He perks up, quickly turning towards his own apartment. “One second!” The young man half-jogs over to his patio, stepping just into the threshold of his apartment and reaching towards the same spot Zhongli sees him grab his watering can from. Instead he pulls out a pair of pruning shears and a single glove, steps back out, and beelines to one of the rose bushes. Zhongli hears the snip of the shears after a second despite the young man putting himself between her and whatever he’s cutting, and when he turns around, he’s holding a beautiful rose by its long stem, his gloved hand pulling off the leaves towards the bottom.

“If you cut about an inch off the bottom of this every time you change the water, it should last a while.” He holds the rose out to Zhongli as he steps up to them, a small smile on his face. Zhongli can admire his features more readily like this, and takes delight in noticing the stroke of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

“Thank you.” She returns his smile as she takes it, which only serves to widen his own, a set of dimples revealing themselves to her. How darling.

The young man shrugs. “Consider it a gift for being understanding. I know my mom wouldn’t have been as calm as you if one of my siblings was under the care of someone she doesn’t know, no matter how brief.”

Zhongli laughs, much to the obvious delight of their neighbor. “Why don’t you tell me your name then? So you’re no longer a stranger.”

He laughs again, then smiles at them both, though his eyes return to Zhongli barely after a second of looking at Qiqi. “Ajax, but my friends call me Childe.”

“Childe, then.” Zhongli nods, then jostles Qiqi a little on her hip, pulling a little disgruntled noise from her daughter as she’s dislodged from her hiding place. “This is Qiqi, as you heard earlier. You may call me Zhongli.”

“Zhongli,” Childe tests, his deep blue eyes wandering over her face. Zhongli feels her cheeks flush ever so slightly. She sincerely hopes Childe doesn’t notice.

To help distract, Zhongli speaks. “Well, I suppose I should put this rose in some water...”

“Oh!” Childe blinks, then laughs, light and happy. She can guess the young man is laughing at himself. “Yeah, that would be good.” He steps back from their patio with a smile, passing his pruning shears from his ungloved hand to the gloved one, then waves to both Zhongli and Qiqi, a pleasant smile on his face. “When that one dies, I don’t mind replacing it. Just let me know.”

“I will,” Zhongli nearly whispers, watching as Childe drops the leaves he plucked into the dirt his roses rest in. He pulls that single glove off as he looks over his shoulder back towards Zhongli and Qiqi once more, giving them both another smile and a wave. Zhongli lifts some of her fingers from her rose to wave in return, watching as the young man smiles just a touch more, then steps into his apartment, returning his tools to their spots.

Zhongli hums as Childe comes back out once more to collect the first aid kit still in the grass, then she finally turns away, stepping back into her own apartment. She bends over to place Qiqi down, then stands back up and turns herself to close the slider. She spots Childe standing on his patio then, eyes clearly glued to her, and she pauses, her hand resting on the handle of the door. The young man seems to snap out of whatever trance he was in around then and hurriedly stumbles inside his own apartment, his slider nearly getting slammed in his rush.

Zhongli blinks at the commotion, then shuts her own slider in a much calmer fashion. “I suppose…” she starts as she watches Childe’s silhouette disappear from the little amount of the interior of his apartment she can see, then huffs in amusement. What a peculiar young man. She closes the blinds over the door, then makes her way through the living room, gently patting her daughter’s head. “I suppose we should start on dinner, lest we risk your father’s grumpiness by waiting any longer, hm?”

“Yes.” Qiqi points to the rose, then to herself. “Qiqi will get water.” The little girl hurries herself into the kitchen after saying so, much cleaner than Childe did into his apartment. Zhongli hums in amusement with her daughter, then directs her gaze to the rose still in her hand. Carefully, she lifts it to her nose, inhales, and sighs pleasantly as she pulls it away. She’s looking forward to the smell of flowers in their home from now on.

#genshin impact #chili #zhongchi #tartali #zhongli #tartaglia #qiqi #txt.cat #txt.fic #fanfic #writing

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luca-moreno · 3 years

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youtube

follows X

I heard this cover and couldn’t stop imagining it as Luca voice & wanted to write it sooo ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Luca strums his guitar on the couch of the captain’s quarters idly. “You know, I felt kinda bad for Yamamoto when you ripped into him today. I could have fixed the projector… I was the one who-“ he lets go of his guitar only long enough to make air quotes around the word, “-‘broke’ it after all.”

The captain looks up from his terminal and raises an eyebrow. “Luca, please tell me you didn’t just your ship’s captain you willing broke his ship.”

“Wellllllll, I wouldn't say willingly, I was just trying to improv-“ Luca catches Isaac’s look and grins sheepishly. “Yeah, okay, I broke it. But I always fix what I break, you know that. I was just trying something, because you know, I want-“

“Maybe the next time you want to try something or improve something, you could do it in the workshop. On a non-essential part, perhaps?”

Isaac stares at him expectantly. It’s not really a request and in any other sitting it would be an order, but for some reason when the doors are closed and he’s alone with Luca, the words come out softer.

Luca strums his guitar again. On the opposite side of the room, Amelia shuffles slowly around the edges of the bed as though looking for something and Luca makes a mental note to check her programming later.

He pouts playfully. “Ugh, fine, whatever you say… Dad.”

That makes Isaac laugh. “Right back at you, brat.” Then he turns serious, snapping back into Captain mode. It’s impressive how easily he can switch it on and off. “But if he gives you any trouble-“

The implication hangs in the air and Luca feels flushed with a warmth he’s unfamiliar with. His chest gets tight, but in a good way. He looks up at Isaac through his hair.

“I love you for that,” he says, cheeks hot but matching Isaac’s seriousness for a moment before shaking it off and flashing a bright grin to brush over the moment. Maybe it’s too much, this man was his mentor, and his friend but his captain too. Maybe there were some things that shouldn’t be voiced out loud. “But I can fight my own battles. And if Yamamoto wants a fight, he won't even see me coming. Hey, so I found a new song today, wanna hear it?”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, great, so check this one out. It’s an old one from Earth, 21st century.”

“Your favourite.”

“I’ll make it yours too, eventually. Just wait.”

Isaac chuckles as Luca pauses to adjust his implant then settles into a more comfortable seat to play. He’s aware of the other man rolling his chair away from his terminal slightly so that he can give Luca his full attention. It had made Luca nervous the first time he had done that, but now he just appreciates the fact that it doesn’t seem to matter how busy the captain is, he always makes the time to indulge Luca where he could.

Luca knows that’s a gift.

So he quirks a shy little smile as his fingers start to dance over the strings and he falls into the song,

All my friends are heathens, take it slow Wait for them to ask you who you know Please don't make any sudden moves You don't know the half of the abuse

Welcome to the room of people Who have rooms of people that they loved one day Docked away Just because we check the guns at the door Doesn't mean our brains will change from hand grenades

You'll never know the psychopath sitting next to you You'll never know the murderer sitting next to you You'll think, "How'd I get here, sitting next to you?" But after all I've said, please don't forget

All my friends are heathens, take it slow...

There’s a complicated expression on the captain’s face as Luca finishes. Mostly pride, maybe something a little uncomfortable too.

“Maybe don't play that one in front of our phoenix friends, hmm?”

Luca snickers. “What? You don’t think they’d get a kick out of the psychopath line? I dunno, maybe Ajax might.”

Isaac’s expression definitely pinches. “Possibly. But let’s not rock the boat.”

Luca hums and plays the melody on the strings again, thoughtful. “They’re not though, are they?” Luca thinks of one particular phoenix… Phoenix Roosevelt. Hurricane.

Ben.

Luca hopes he’s feeling better. Hopes that he’ll find another little note tucked into Amelia’s foliage, or that he’ll pass him in the halls or find him in the mess. Hopes he gets another chance to feel him wrapped around him again.

“I mean, they’re kinda… normal?” he continues, glancing up through the curls hanging over his eyes. “I mean, as normal as you can get for cybernetically enhanced and severely augmented super soldiers, right? And anyway, who isn’t just a little weird around here?”

Luca launches into the song again, but stops after a few lines. He frowns slightly.

“On second thoughts, you might be right, Cap. We need a new song then. Maybe one for... Eva,” he says slyly and sneaks a glance at the other man.

The slight falter of his captain’s fingers over the keyboard tells Luca everything he needs to know.

#luca moreno #Isaac Cerrillo #look im just rolling with the dad thing ok #build up? whats that dont know her #scooter roosevelt #write the lame scenes that make you happy #luca playlist

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softdreems · 3 years

Text

for : @brokenframx

muse : ajax choi, creator of the holopeople technology, still hopelessly in love with his creation holo.

“No.” There was no hesitation in his voice as he spoke, leaning back in his chair while resting one had in the crook of his arm. “I’m not selling my program to you.” He wasn’t selling Holo. People had been trying to buy it from him since before he launched the program world wide, before it became so popular and took the world by storm. Even then, when he could have quietly made millions and disappeared, he wouldn’t give it up - because it would mean giving up Holo. “I don’t care how much you’re willing to pay me, you’re not getting it.”

#➵ ♡ 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 | tagged

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mistymark · 5 years

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the one with all the ajax.

na jaemin x reader // 4.5k words // masterlist // send requests here

summary; in which y/n needs to clean her apartment and she finds a lot more than cleaning products in the apartment above her own

warnings: none its just fluff, they swear like twice

requested; no but u all requested jaemin so here's some jaemin !!

notes; this is a recreation of a Jimin fic I wrote,, so dont freak out if u recognise it,, I didn't steal it

“Yes, Mom, I know,” you spun in your chair mindlessly as you listened to your mother over the phone, the face of Ryan Reynolds frozen rather unattractively on your TV screen and your current course assignment staring blankly at you from your laptop. “Yes, of course I remembered! You wrote it on my calendar the last time you visited! Okay, Mom, I’ll see you tomorrow… tell Dad I said hi, okay? Okay, okay, yes, okay, uhuh, I know, okay, bye! I love you!”

Hanging up, you groaned, tossing your phone to the empty couch and glancing at your apartment. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, the oven and stove looked as if they had been set on fire at least twice, the couch was littered in crumbs of food you’d ordered from takeout stores, and their wrappers, boxes and containers lay empty on the coffee table. Movies and video games were sprawled across the floor, your desk was buried in paper, and your bedroom floor was barely visible beneath the catastrophe that was your current wardrobe and the boxes you hadn’t bothered to unpack since your parents had last visited you. Generally, you considered yourself a rather clean and tidy person, but in the past few weeks leading up to exams and your assignments, you may have prioritized other things over your apartment’s cleanliness.

You glanced at the clock, calculating how much time you had to get your place in order before your parents visited. You had just under 22 hours, but subtracting time to sleep, eat, your afternoon class and your evening work shift… you had about two hours. You clapped your hands together, walking to your kitchen sink and opening the cupboard doors underneath it, planning on using all your cleaning supplies to make the job as easy as possible.

As you bent down and peered under the sink, you groaned in annoyance at the meagre remains of your cleaning supplies; a few tile wipes and a mostly empty bottle of dish soap, which, when you tipped it up, seemed solidly attached to the base of the bottle.

You grabbed your phone from the couch, praying your best friend loved you enough to help you in this time of distress, and dialled his number. After three rings and Yangyang’s voice letting out a cheery “leave me a message!”, you sighed and put your phone back down. It was at times like these that you wished you lived in one of the college’s normal dormitories, rather than a random apartment block two streets away; your neighbours were mostly disapproving elderly women or drunk, potbellied men in their 30s who would flirt with you in the elevator.

You grabbed your keys in preparation to make a quick dash to the store, before realising that there was one other option. The two boys who lived above you, from whom you had the honour of receiving brief smiles and polite ‘hello’s on the way to and from your apartment, sounded like they were home. Taking the stairs two at a time, you knocked eagerly on the door of the apartment above your own, smiling at the little fish-eyed hole in the door. You prayed your innocent, smiling figure would be taken pity on.

“It’s probably the pizza!” A muffled voice could be heard through the door, and you weren’t sure if it was from the thick door or from food being stuffed into the boy’s mouth that made it so difficult to understand.

The door opened abruptly, and a boy around your age blinked at you in surprise, before a lazy smile stretched across his face at the sight of you.

“Um, hi, I’m Y/n,” you hastily stated, waving awkwardly, “We haven’t officially met. I live in the apartment below you and I was wondering if I could borrow some cleaning supplies? It’s kind of an emergency.”

“Jaems! Who is it?” A deep voice called from within the apartment, and you recognised it as the boy who had yelled about the pizza delivery beforehand.

The boy in front of you – Jaems – raised his eyebrows in surprise, but nodded as he stepped aside slightly. “Yeah, um, okay,” he quickly turned to face his apartment, gesturing to the inside, where two other boys were situated on the couch in front of the TV. “I’m, uh, Jaemin. Come in, come in. This is Jeno and Donghyuck; Jeno’s my roommate and Donghyuck doesn’t actually live here, but he’s the one that makes the most noise.”

“Hey!” One of the boys on the couch, presumably Donghyuck, threw a potato chip at Jaemin, and you could hear Jeno scolding him as you shifted your attention back to the boy in front of you.

Jaemin walked towards the kitchen and you followed, noticing, rather abruptly, that the apartment you were standing in was pretty much exactly like your own. The layout was the same, and though the decorations and the furniture were different to yours, they were arranged very similarly. The boys on the couch, Jeno and Donghyuck, were so focussed on their game that they didn’t even look at you, shouting to Jaemin to bring them more snacks.

“So… if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the emergency that requires all these cleaning supplies?” Jaemin opens a cupboard in the kitchen, revealing a much more sensible-looking collection of spray bottles, wipes, paper towels and bottles. Jaemin gestures to them dismissively, in a take-whatever-you-need way.

You smile gratefully at him as you squat down and begin to rummage through the collection. “Well,” you speak into the cupboard as he leans against the kitchen counter casually, “my parents are coming to visit me tomorrow morning, and, um, I guess you could say my apartment doesn’t exactly entice guests at the moment.” You look over your shoulder at him, and you can see that he has a very amused smirk on his face, and the way he looks at you suddenly makes you feel as though you’ve been friends for a while, or at least properly met before.

“I’ve seen you around,” he states, as if he’s just been able to place you. “Mail room and stuff.”

“You were at the New Year’s Eve Party next door, right?” You ask, remembering seeing him on the roof of the building next door, where the residents threw parties on the roof at every opportunity. You were almost certain he was there.

He laughed, “Oh yeah! Didn’t someone try to jump into the pool?”

“Nah, they got him down in the end. He was way too drunk to think straight.” You look back at him briefly, and you notice the way his eyebrows are furrowed slightly in thought.

Satisfied, you stand up, your arms filled with the equipment you’re positive you’ll need and smile at him thankfully, “Again, thank you so much for this, I feel like our first proper meeting should have been a little bit more traditional and I promise I don’t normally ask strangers for favours.” You laugh and you’re glad he does, too, before he raises an eyebrow at the number of things you’re holding.

“Okay, I have to see how messy your apartment is for you to need two – wait, no, three bottles of Ajax,” he snorts, counting out loud the number of other things you have in your arms.

Without realising he’s teasing you, you reassure him, “I promise I’ll replace everything in a few days, I just really needed these before tomorrow and I didn’t want to waste time running - literally running, I don’t have a car - to the store.”

He waves his hand at you, smiling good-naturedly. His smile felt reassuring and you felt yourself smiling back, “No, no, don’t worry about it. The only payment I require is seeing this apartment.” He pushes past you into the hallway, outstretching his arm to hold the door open for you.

As you both trot down the stairs, you nudge him with your elbow, “So, why do you have so many cleaning supplies, anyway? Who’s the neat freak?”

Instantly, his smile drops slightly and you realise your mistake. Hurriedly, you try to cover yourself, “I just mean, who’s the one that clea-”

His laugh cuts you off and you realise he was only teasing you, “You should’ve seen your face, oh, God,” he continues to laugh. “No, one of the counsellors, like those ‘big-brother’ students at our college - do you have one? - his name is Taeyong, he’s a real… neat freak, as you put it.” He glances at you from the corner of his eye to watch as you make yourself smaller, blushing, ashamed. The tiniest of smiles crosses his face as he shoves his hands into his pockets and continues, “Anyway, after our first year was over, and the program ended, he made us buy like ten bottles of everything so we wouldn’t run out and just never buy them again.”

You laughed, “Aw, that’s sweet.” As you arrived at your doorstep, you turned on him, lowering your voice in what you hoped to be a morbidly warning voice, “Okay, I’m warning you, what you’re about to see will most likely disturb you. Enter at your own risk.” You unlocked the door and walked into your apartment, dumping your weapons on the table and turning around slowly, attempting to figure out the most strategic attack.

You heard Jaemin gasp in shock and then begin to laugh so hard that he fell to the floor, “Y-you said that it was r-really bad but I,” he laughed between most of his words and what he said came out in gasps, “I didn’t think it would be this bad! Y/n, you’re really screwed.” He walked to the kitchen and picked up a half-eaten apple and what looked to be a hairy potato on a paper plate, “Forget cleaning supplies, you need a dump truck, holy shit.”

You pouted at him, “Hey, I have over an hour to make this place spotless! I’ll be fine!” You began to put on a pair of rubber gloves you had taken from Jaemin’s apartment and remove all the filthy dishes from the sink to fill it with hot water. “I really do appreciate you letting me borrow all this, and I promise to return and replace everything.”

You heard rubber gloves snapping behind you and you turned around to see Jaemin pulling another pair on, grabbing the dishwasher fluid and tossing it to you. “There is no way that you are going to be able to clean this mess in an hour, so I’m going to help you. But, I need to arm myself first.” You let out a laugh as he grabbed an apron from beside your fridge that read ‘kiss the cook’ in pink stitching, tugging the rubber gloves further down his hands and placing a mask over his nose and mouth, before quickly ditching the latter.

“Do you want a shower cap, too?” You teased, pointing a clean knife at him from your spot by the sink.

“Do you have one?” He answered, his eyes wide in mock hope, pausing what he was doing: trying to get the apron’s straps to loosen around his neck, before tying it behind his slim waist. With his waist accentuated, you couldn’t help but notice the perfect shape of his body, that you had gone unnoticed as it was hidden by the white t-shirt he was wearing.

In response, you stuck your tongue out at him in an all-too-mature way, before straightening, “Seriously, you don’t have to do this. I mean, we did just meet like… ten minutes ago.”

He shrugged as he pulled out a bin bag from your haul on the counter, “What better way to get to know the cute next door neighbour?” You stopped washing for a moment and you were glad that you weren’t facing him, for you were fairly sure the blush on your cheeks was rather obvious. Besides, he could be talking about you getting to know him, not the other way round.

He began to walk around your apartment, firstly binning your apple, furry potato and plate, then the takeout boxes, and the leftover banana peel on your desk. He hung the bag off a chair for future use and then appeared beside you again, mindlessly tapping on the counter as he spoke, “So what’re your parents like?”

As you continued to clean, he grabbed a rag from somewhere in the kitchen and began drying your dishes. “Well, you know, they’re parents,” you shrugged, “I guess we’ve always been kind of close, I miss them like crazy now that I’ve moved out, even if I hated living with them. They’re kind of strict, real neat freaks,” you glanced sideways at him and caught the left side of his mouth hitching up in a smile, “but, I mean, they’re my parents and I love them. They worry about me sometimes,” you gestured around the room, “but I guess it’s warranted.”

You laughed with him, and he looked at you quickly before focusing back down on the plate, asking about what you were studying and the conversation quickly drifting to your hobbies, places you’d visited, things you still wanted to do… Conversation with Jaemin was easy and simple, and you hoped this wasn’t going to be the last time you saw him.

You passed him a bowl and turned to him, grinning, as you allowed the dirty water to run from the sink down the drain, having finally finished the dishes, “We should put on music. Make this a little more fun, you know?”

He pouted jokingly as he dried the bowl, “You’re not having fun?”

You laughed as you hit his chest lightly and walked over to the small speaker buried under piles of paper and bills on the small side table by your front door, and then dancing over to Jaemin in the kitchen. He laughed at your dorky dance moves, throwing his head back as he put the bowl down and joined you, swivelling his hips and squatting awkwardly as he danced.

You continued dancing as you finished the job; he danced as he wiped down your counter, you danced as you put the freshly dried dishes away, he danced as he vacuumed your couch of all the crumbs, and you danced as you put all the movies away underneath the TV. You learned he was actually a really good dancer, and it made you feel a little bit more nervous and self-conscious, until he started to bust out his own choreography, making you laugh until your insides hurt.

You made him take a break and offered him a drink, telling him to help himself to anything in the fridge as you quickly tidied your bathroom.

“Oh my God, Y/n!”

You quickly rushed into the main room and found Jaemin staring into your fridge, “What? What is it?”

He turned to face you, a look of amused bewilderment on his face, “You have nothing in your fridge but mustard, pickles and coconut water! How are you even alive right now?” His eyes were wide as he looked at you teasingly.

You rolled your eyes and retreated back into the bathroom to wipe down the now almost empty counter, making a comment about how you were doing perfectly fine surviving off of ramen and takeout, before Jaemin appeared in the doorway, “Seriously, though, if your parents see that, they’re really going to worry about you. Come on, we’ve got half an hour left, we’ll go to the supermarket, get a bunch of food to stock your fridge and then you can go to class.”

You sighed as you looked around at your bathroom, “I still have to wipe down all the windows and the shower, and my room is still a bit of a mess…”

He looked around, “If we’re quick, we’ll have enough time to wipe everything down. Your room… you can probably get away with that if everything else is tidy. I mean, your parents wont be going in there anyway, right? Come on.” He held out his hand and smiled as you pulled off your gloves to grab it.

He tugged your arm, attempting to pull you out of the bathroom, but he miscalculated where exactly the wall was and ended up slamming his back into the wall and pulling you into him, causing you to stumble and crash against him. You felt blood rush to your cheeks as you looked at his shocked face; his eyes were wide in surprise but you didn’t miss the small smile he had tugging at the left side of his mouth.

You couldn’t move as he held your gaze, and you watched as his eyes briefly glanced down to your lips before he turned his head to the sink mirror, “Um, should we get going?”

You felt your free hand clench into a fist in an invisible cringe and you looked down, noticing how close your bodies were, “Y-yeah, we probably should.”

You stepped back and went to grab your keys and purse, purposely keeping your back to him. You scolded yourself for even thinking about kissing him. Despite his attractiveness, intelligence, kindness and humour, you couldn’t let yourself get involved with someone you had just met, though it felt like you’d grown quite fond of each other in the past two hours.

He walked by your side to the store a few streets away and grabbed a trolley, guiding you to the fruits and vegetables section. You groaned and followed him. As he was picking from the apples, he glanced upwards to look at you, standing on the other side of the fruit boxes, puffing your cheeks out in boredom. He quickly returned his gaze to the fruit, his face a darker shade of pink, his ears burning a bright red.

You began walking around the vegetables section, before noticing the cookies in the aisle beside them. I mean, who was going to pass up the opportunity to buy cookies? Certainly not you.

From between the shelves, you had a perfect view of Jaemin, and for the first time since you’d been introduced, you allowed yourself to stare. Am I being really creepy right now?you thought, holding a box of Oreos. It’s warranted, you assured yourself. I mean, look at him.You watched him look up from the next box of fruit, pears, and a look of surprise crossed his face as he realised you weren’t standing across from him.

He turned around, scanning the area for you, before placing the pears into the trolley, and then pushing it towards your aisle. You quickly ducked and walked speedily to the other end of the aisle, laughing to yourself as you childishly ran from him.

Jaemin immediately recognised your coat disappearing behind the corner of the shelves, and a grin instantly broke out on his face as he ran down the aisle, pushing himself up and over the trolley in pursuit, gliding easily down the aisle. You thought he hadn’t seen you, and you stood at the end of the aisle, carefully leaning forward to peer into the fresh produce section, assuming he’d come from that direction. You jumped in surprise as a trolley rolled up to you, “Hey, stranger, you need help looking for something?”

You turned around, a smile covering your face shyly and you briefly recognised how attractive he looked at that moment, an eyebrow lifted in playful challenge and a beautiful smirk, his eyes slightly creasing at the corners and the black jacket he’d grabbed from his apartment before you’d left. You weren’t going to lie, that jacket was a very nice jacket; it made his shoulders look broad and accentuated his slightly thinner-than-expected waist.

You shrugged playfully, “I don’t know, where do they keep all the… what’re they called? Oh, that’s right, notfruitandvegetables?”

He laughed, his head dropping down in mock disappointment as he walked down the aisle with you, dismissing all the things your parents were more likely to disapprove of, or just any parents really. “Really, Y/n, I don’t think they’d be ecstatic over seven boxes of Oreos.”

“BUT THEY’RE ALL DIFFERENT FLAVOURS,” you protested, before mumbling, “and besides, shouldn’t I at least be buying food I can actually eat?”

He cracked a grin at that, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you took over the trolley, “Aw, poor Y/n, can’t buy all the flavours.” He pouted at you and he poked your cheek with a grin. “But…” he began, “I’m sure one box couldnt hurt, right?”

The next day you were bombarded with your parents an hour earlier than expected, but luckily you were only making a few final adjustments to the cleanliness of your bedroom when they arrived.

You spent the day with your parents, showcasing your apartment, assuring them you were eating and washing When you left for lunch, you realised you forgot to bring your father’s birthday gift with you, and quickly ducked back upstairs to retrieve it. On your way down the stairs, rushing to catch up with your parents, you passed Jaemin and Jeno on their way up, bags of groceries in their arms, determination on their faces as they tried to carry all their groceries at once in order to not waste another trip up and down the multiple flights of stairs.

Jaemin winked at you as you passed, and you managed to catch up to your parents quickly. “I didn’t know there were other students living in your building, Y/n,” you mother commented, sliding her sunglasses up her nose as you stepped onto the sidewalk.

“They’re new,” you stated. “They’ve only been here for a couple of months, I think.”

“The tall one is pretty cute,” she nudged you with her elbow, teasing you.

“Sure, Mom. Jeno is ‘pretty cute’,” you rolled your eyes at her, sliding into the Uber you’d ordered.

She looked surprised at your tone, “What? You don’t agree.” She hesitated, before a wry smile made its way onto her face, “Ah, I see. You like the other one. What’s his name?”

“Jaemin,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling like you were twelve years old and not an adult, currently living away from home.

You waved to your parents from the door to your apartment block as they got in the taxi. You crossed your arms in front of yourself and watched as the car disappeared behind a corner.

After checking you had your wallet in your pocket, you made your way to the supermarket, a small smile on your face as you remembered walking the same way just the day before, but with Jaemin. Quickly grabbing a few products you remember having stolen and used from the boys’ apartment, you paid and made your way back home.

You ran up the stairs to your apartment, stopping briefly at your apartment to return your purse and wallet, before turning back to the staircase and moving to the floor above, grocery bag filled with cleaning supplies. You knocked on the door quietly, wondering if he even expected you to repay him for his things.

You prepared yourself, feeling your heart beating heavily against your chest, and heard the identifiable click of the lock on the door sliding out from its cradle on the doorframe. The door opened about halfway and you tried not to let your breath escape defeatedly. Jeno stood in the doorway, smiling in welcome.

“Hey, Y/n,” he greeted happily, controller in hand. “Jaemin’s in his room.” He nodded his head in the direction of the younger boy’s bedroom and opened the door a little wider to allow you in. He went back to the couch in the living room, where Donghyuck and another boy sat, patiently waiting for Jeno’s return with their controllers, whatever game they had been playing was paused. Donghyuck raised his hand in greeting and the other boy shot you a smile as you passed. “Thanks for those, by the way,” Jeno jutted his chin out at the bag of cleaning supplies that you haphazardly placed on the kitchen counter as he sat down on the couch again, reaching for the remote on the table in front of him.

You nodded at them and walked to Jaemin’s room, the only door that was closed in the tiny hallway. You knocked, sucking in a breath.

“Yeah, I know, I’ll be out in a sec! Just start without me,” Jaemin called from behind the door.

You coughed awkwardly, “Um, no, it’s, uh, me. Y/n.” In your mind, you were facepalming yourself, but part of you began to panic because what the fuck were you going to say to him? Why didn’t you just dump the products and leave? Or send a note? Why were you showing up at his bedroom door?

The door opened abruptly and you stood face-to-chest with Jaemin. Your eyes widened as you were met with his bare chest and you quickly shifted your gaze up to look at his face, which proved to be a feat a lot more difficult than it sounds.

“Hey,” he breathed, his arm still holding the door open. He stared at you and it was if he could see inside you, scrutinising every little part of your face, reading your mind.

You rocked back and forth on your heels, your smile rather awkward, “Hi.” You watched in slight awe as the corners of his mouth lifted up. A mere reaction that had your heart thrumming loudly against your ribcage.

“Um-,” you were immediately cut off as his head ducked down to kiss you, his lips pressing against yours suddenly. His hands found their to your sides as your arms lifted up to rest on his shoulders. You prayed he couldn’t hear your heart hammering in your chest as you smiled into the kiss.

When he pulled back, you didn’t take your arms away from around his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind, grinning back at you and then dropping his head to laugh to himself. For a moment, you were worried that this had all been some kind of joke and you felt your stomach drop in shame and embarrassment. You began to retract your arms, but his hands caught yours and placed them back on his shoulders, smiling at you widely, “I’ve wanted to do that since New Year’s.”

You cocked your head in confusion, so he cleared his throat, clarifying, “We bumped into each other on the roof, right when the countdown had just begun, and we’d been talking for a bit, so I kind of wanted to kiss you.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah. But you were a little drunk, so obviously I-“

“No,” you grabbed his hand in yours, trying to get his attention and make him look at you. “Were you really going to kiss me? I think you should prove it.” You cocked an eyebrow at him challengingly.

“Oh, really?” He teased, pulling his head back a bit to look at you fully. You noticed him look over your head at something behind you, before rolling his eyes, grabbing your hand and tugging you into his room, shutting the door behind you.

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coyotescribbles · 3 years

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The tail end of something original, for once lmao

IDK I got the idea from a dream I had this morning and this is what it inevitably spun out to. Figured I’d write out the ending before I forgot (or gave up on writing) it lol

----------

With the cataclysm raining fire down around them, Ajax grabbed Andromeda's wrist and locked his finger joints to keep them from being separated as he pushed through the panicking crowd. She struggled to keep up with his pace, but soon enough they reached the gates of the spaceport.

He did not, however, head for the crowded shuttles; instead, he made a beeline for the departing automated supply transports.

"Ajax, wha- the evacs are over there!" Andromeda cried, her voice barely audible over the din and chaos. "What are you-"

"I know, I know - just... please trust me, okay?" He let go of her wrist and bolted up a retreating ramp, slapping the controls and overriding them with several hasty commands. "Come on, get in! Hurry!"

She hesitated, but only for a moment before a booming explosion nearby sent her bolting up the ramp - while he pulled up command screen after command screen to change the transport's pre-programmed course and ensure that it didn't vent atmosphere when it left the surface. And when he was finished...

"Stay on this transport, it'll take you somewhere safe, I promise. And when you get there..." He pulled a folded-up envelope from a compartment in his forearm and pressed it into her hand. "When you get there, go straight here. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise."

"Ajax, what - I don't understand, where am I going?"

"I - I was planning to surprise you with it at your gallery showing, but," he shrugged and gestured helplessly at what was happening outside. "It - it's a studio. Actually, it's a a bit more than that, but I picked it out for the space where you could work. I thought - I thought it would make you happy, but 'safe' is probably better right now."

Tears shimmered in the corners of her dark eyes, threatening to overflow; he just reached up to cup her face in his hand, stroking his thumb across her cheek.

"Don't worry about me, okay? I'll know exactly where you are, and I'll come to you as soon as I can. No matter how long it takes, I will come find you."

"What about-"

"Agamemnon? Don't worry about him, either." There was a cold edge to his voice at that, and his ears flattened back for a moment. "Just focus on yourself for now. Everything's going to be all right."

There was a brief pause, and he had just started to turn to leave when Andromeda threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly and pressing her face to his chestplate.

She was shaking.

Slowly, cautiously, he returned her embrace, taking a moment to bury his face in her hair - and surprising himself with the overwhelming strength of his own feelings. He would move the heavens themselves to ensure her safety if he had to; what he'd decided to do to keep her safe wasn't even a drop in the bucket compared to that.

Outside, the growing disaster made the ground beneath the transport tremble; Ajax gave Andromeda one more gentle squeeze before reluctantly letting go. For one long, last moment, they locked eyes and he desperately wanted to confess his feelings, but he feared that doing so would only invite more disaster; she seemed to feel the same, if the conflicted expression she wore was any indication. Instead of words, she reached back to tug the red ribbon from her hair, and rushed to wrap it around his left hand and wrist.

"Stay safe," She whispered, almost pleadingly.

"I will. I'll see you soon."

Then, he reluctantly turned to leave, hitting the controls once more in his way out to close the ramp.

And he waited - waited for the ramp to close, for the transport's engines to roar to life... for it to ascend into the sky with the rest of the fleeing vessels, until it was nothing but a tiny black pinprick against the wild red sky.

Then, and only then, did he turn to leave the port, and reenter the city proper.

---

Search And Rescue units had not reached that particular borough yet, and likely wouldn't start trickling in for at least an hour; the majority of them were currently dedicated to the business districts and to rescuing survivors trapped there. He had time.

The house - like most of the houses around it for blocks in every direction - was a total ruin. The walls, roof, and floors were three-quarters of the way collapsed and still shifting with every tremor, creating a hazardous situation.

Ajax made his way through the wreckage, regardless, prowling like a creature on the hunt.

In a way, he was.

And soon enough, he found what - or, rather, who - he was after, pinned under the remains of a shattered wall. Dark red blood pooled around the man, who was barely conscious, thought still feebly trying to dig his way free with his one good arm. The sound of Ajax's soles on the cracked marble floor caught his attention, and he turned his head to squint weakly at the approaching cyborg.

"Oh, thank god... I thought help was... never going to get here..." Agamemnon rasped out. "Could you please... get this wall off of me..."

Ajax stopped short, scowling down at him. The relieved expression on the man's face faltered, then faded as soon as he spotted the red ribbon wound around his hand.

"I know what you did, Agamemnon," Ajax said flatly, "all of it. Every last twisted little thing. Did you really think you'd be able to keep it under wraps forever?"

Confusion set in, then gave way to recognition and, finally, Agamemnon showed fear.

Ajax stepped forward, planted his boot squarely on the man's throat, and began to press down, ignoring his scrabbling attempts to push him away.

"Oh. Don't you worry about Andromeda. She's safe," Ajax's voice dripped with mock-pleasantry and although he couldn't smile, his eyes widened in triumph, "and she'll never need to fear the likes of you ever again. She'll have her gallery, and friends that she selects, and a home of her own. If she wants one, she'll even have a family, and it will be her choice, not yours. Never. Yours."

With every word, he bore down with more and more of his weight, watching Agamemnon's face turn red and purple as he choked and gasped for air. Saliva frothed at the corners of his mouth, and he clawed at Ajax's leg, leaving bloody streaks on the armor.

"She will be happy. And you? You will be an unpleasant memory that fades away until you. Are. Nothing."

There was a crunch underfoot, and Agamemnon's struggles ceased. Ajax waited, just long enough to ensure that he was dead - then, stepping back, located and hefted a sufficiently heavy chunk of debris, and dropped it on the dead man's head, obliterating all trace of what he'd just done.

Afterwards, he rinsed away the blood in a broken water main, and busied himself with being among the first to look for survivors in the residential districts.

After all, that was his job.

---

Days stretched out into weeks. One month passed, and became two, then two became three. Slowly, the great city stabilized, even as his patience wore thin.

But at long last, Ajax finally found himself disembarking a shuttle on a verdant little world three days' travel from his home. The sun was brilliant and summer-warm, trees reached green branches to the sky along broad, winding streets, birds were singing... and he paid little attention to any of it. He had one goal on his mind and one goal only, and it was on the far side of one of those broad streets, across from the green field he'd landed in.

A little brick house with a blue slate roof, shaded from the sun by stout trees and surrounded by a wrought-iron fence and low but thick hedges. His vents and coolant pump were working overtime as he stepped through the front gate, and he had to restrain himself from bolting to the door.

Not that he had to worry, because before he'd made it halfway there, said door was flung open and Andromeda was all but flinging herself into his arms. For just a moment, he let himself feel shocked - before wrapping his arms tightly around her in return. And for a long moment, they just stayed like that, holding on to each other and not caring who might see; they didn't have to walk on eggshells here.

She would never have to, ever again.

"I was starting to think I'd never see you again," she eventually choked out, and Ajax winced at the sound of tears in her voice. Lifting one hand, he ran his fingers through her hair - it was cut in a short bob again, the way it had been when they'd first met - and he smiled.

"Hey, I promised, didn't I?" He laughed once, softly; "I always keep my promises."

"You did," she managed a laugh, too; "you do."

He gave her a soft squeeze as she pressed her cheek to his chest.

"You're buzzing," she whispered, almost laughing again as she reached up to wipe away tears.

"Well, I've had a lot of time to get wound up, waiting to see if you were all right. Couldn't pull strings fast enough to get here."

Andromeda just laughed softly, and for another stretch of time was content to just hold on to and be held by him.

Eventually, though, the unspoken question that hung over everything finally came up.

"And Agamemnon...?"

"He didn't make it," Ajax answered quietly.

Andromeda inhaled sharply, and held that breath for a beat... before letting it out again in a ragged sob. Her knees buckled, and he slowly sank to the ground with her, stroking her hair as she sobbed in broken relief against his chest.

And when one of the neighbors hesitantly inquired as to what was wrong, a quiet, simple "her brother was killed" sent the woman on her way with a sympathetic wince and an understanding nod.

No one had to know, after all, that the tears being shed were not tears of grief.

#should probably tag this for #murder #:')#Dude had it coming though

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sadstonewrites · 4 years

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Fractured Psyche Chapter 4

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) x OC

Rated M

It was a canister. Barely bigger than a thermos. Lane narrowed their eyes and looked back up at Ajax.

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but believe me, it packs a wallop. Fancy scientist bloke by the name of Richards discovered it in deep space, nearly killed him and his entire crew.”

He turned the canister around and the yellow radiation symbol made their heart skip a beat. Hazardous material. Bad shit.

“Cosmic Radiation. You see, it gave Richards and his friends some fancy abilities, but they did it on accident . Imagine what happens when we aim it at you deliberately. We imagine it’ll be roughly around the same as getting over 10,000 chest x-rays at once. And we’re going to do it until something happens, or you die. Whichever comes first.”

Even Wade had gone silent behind the curtain. The steady beeping of machines and the occasional groan from another bed were the only sounds cutting into the silence. They swallowed.

“You’re going to give me cancer.” It came out as barely above a whisper.

Ajax shrugged while Angel smirked beside him. “That’s certainly a possibility. Another is that your bones melt down, your skin sloughs off-”

“You’re fucking sick.” Lane rasped in a bitter growl.

He leaned in close enough that they could smell his aftershave; the scent made bile rise in their throat. “Our investors are very interested to see what happens. You have a chance at being the new favorite toy.”

“If I live.”

“And if you don’t we can at least use your body for parts. See you in the morning.”

He turned on his heel and left, Angel in tow. Just like that after handing them a death sentence as casually as discussing the weather. Wade coughed, wet and thick, and then fell silent once again. It sounded too far away, and getting farther. Everything seemed to fade into the peripheral, their vision going fuzzy around the edges and narrowing to a pinhole looking up at the ugly concrete ceiling.

“At least they aren’t putting you in a barrel of radioactive spiders.”

Lane blinked, snapping out of their stupor and turning their head towards Wade’s voice behind the curtain. “What?”

“I said, at least they aren’t putting you in a barrel of spiders. Or Hulk jizz, can you imagine how radioactive that stuff is?”

Lane fell silent. From behind the curtain Wade let out a huff. “Don’t imagine it that hard. I know it’s been a while for all of us and this bondage set up gives a person ideas-.”

Lane’s laugh was dry and small, criminally underused in the weeks that had gone without laughter. They couldn’t remember the last time they had laughed, really laughed. Wade could barely make it out over the din of the laboratory.

“Oh, god, my last thoughts are going to be of the Hulk’s nutsack when I die. I’m calling it now. Fuck you Wilson.”

“You’re Wel-come!” Wade called back in a sing-songy voice that made Lane chuckle.

“Thanks, Wade.”

“No problem. And hey, if this superhero thing doesn’t work out for you, we can at least be cancer buddies.”

“...You have cancer?”

Lane asked without thinking and immediately wished they could take it back. Wade had never brought up what made him join the program, but Lane had guessed it was some sort of illness. He would have horrible coughing fits and complained how much it hurt to pee; Lane had never asked. Everyone had their own reasons for coming here.

“Oh yeah, the big C. After clitoris, of course.”

“And so you come...here? This isn’t exactly a state of the art facility.” Lane did it again, wincing as they realized the gravity of their words. “Sorry, ignore that. Drugs talking.”

Wade fell silent and Lane worried that they had lost their only friend. They had come to think of Wade as a friend despite never having seen his face or know anything about him other than love for Tex-Mex food. Then again, Lane had revealed even less about themself. This wasn’t a place to pry into personal business when it could be used against you as a form of torture.

“I…I know.” Wade’s voice broke the silence after a long pause. It was quieter, more thoughtful. “I couldn’t...I didn’t want anyone to watch me die.”

Lane bit the inside of their cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. Makes for a pretty cool origin story.” If he was upset, his normal upbeat, borderline sarcastic tone did little to convey it.

Lane snorted. “Cooler than mine.”

“Well, when you become the human version of Chernobyl, maybe you can franchise. Have a team of writers make up a really cool one for you. Dead parents, explosions, the whole sh-bang.”

“If I live.” Lane repeated tonelessly. Jokes about dying were common with Wade’s morbid sense of humor, but this time nobody was laughing. They swallowed, their throat suddenly feeling like sandpaper. There had been certain things Lane had been able to get used to, become accustomed to even - waterboarding, beatings, and getting locked in a freezer to name a few - but this wasn’t a new method of torture. This was a guaranteed death sentence.

“Hey, c’mon don’t talk like that. I’m gonna be right here beside you, and I’ll tell you if you’re dying or not. I’m like one of those cats that can smell death on old people.”

The thought of Wade as a cat made Lane smile, but it was a hollow expression that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “Well, shit, with a power like that, what are you doing here?”

“Like I said. Super Penis. ”

#stone writings #stonetag #celestial steel #fractured psyche #deadpool fanfiction #xmen fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #colossus x oc #colossus marvel

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douchebagbrainwaves · 2 years

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WHY I'M SMARTER THAN PROGRAMS

As you think of yourself as rich there's some amount that would be a 900-page pastiche of existing popular novels—roughly Gone with the Wind plus Roots. The other critical component of Ajax is Javascript, the programming language that runs in the browser. Creative Destruction Whips through Corporate America. Would that do? Jobs, might not measure up to Steve Jobs. You can't write or program well in units of an hour. 99.

You have to know in high school. We didn't start it mainly to make money from. Notes This is why, when I grew up in and that of a successful startup that wasn't turned down by investors at some point in the first stage and handed the thing over to marketers. If an adult says that's a stupid idea, a kid will either crawl away with his tail between his legs, or rebel. For programmers we had three additional tests. I've had to advise most of the time, but not the other fields inhabited by makers. The most memorable example of medieval industrial secrecy is probably Venice, which forbade glassblowers to leave the city, they mean that's how they choose between great people. In this case the instruments are the users you need to fix anything? If one blows up in your face and leaving you with nothing, as happens if you get $50k from a well known VC firm that gave him the mistaken impression I was considering starting another startup. What does the Social Radar say? You have to approach them is near the end of fundraising, that should be insanely great, but PG said startups shouldn't ___, and since you have to create distance yourself. Meet such investors last if at all.

The mistake investors make is not to try to make good things they discover some new technique makes solar cells x% more efficient, that seems strictly better. Is. So most investors prefer, if they can figure out how to express this quality directly. For a lot of obstacles. Trevor wrote his own voice over IP software. It implies the result won't be pretty, because it implies something innate. They're started by the poor and the timid; they begin in marginal space and spare time; they're started by people who needed it for Outlook. It's not just a Judeo-Christian concept; it's roughly what everyone must have believed since before people were people. But when you use a threshold, make it through the selection process looked for different things from different types of investors are jerks, there is something amiss.

The liking you have for new facts to stick onto—which is not very well connected. It would be a waste of time to try to become as valuable as positive ones. In fact investors who reject you, but that I think really would be a better game without checking? It's often mistakenly believed that medieval universities were mostly seminaries. Ideas April 2005 This summer, as an experiment that we might call off at any moment. And this is not how to avoid the conclusion that a great artist is something that's made, rather than trying to learn about it, is that they're overconfident. And in my experience, the harder that is. Then I asked what they do with it? All those unseen details combine to produce something that's just stunning, like a bartender eager to close up and go to a new search engine, when there were only a handful of super-hackers, so I had to learn to trust our instincts and go with Lisp. They still make a lot of code. All your initial ideas get sucked out immediately, and all those people the eminent have working for them; they were represented in binary, as in so many different types of problems a site like Hacker News needs to avoid: bad stories and bad comments.

The basic idea behind office hours is that if you're against software patents, and to a lesser extent Britain under the labor governments of the 1960s have liked writing programs in an imaginary hundred-year language now, it probably doesn't work to stick to your town for a million dollars and I'll figure out what such labels are, simply by looking at it. The archaeological work being mostly done, it implied that the people pretending to be a better startup picker than the median professional VC. And then of course it's going to be two sharply differentiated types of investors, and it probably had something of the effect of subroutines in the inherently stateless world of a few thousand users. That will change the way things have always been. For example, spammers are pretty efficient at getting past it. And if you don't find it. You can't directly control where your thoughts drift. With so much at stake, they have no state, and although present rulers seem enlightened compared to the number of temptations around you. But with Lisp our development cycle was so fast that big companies will disappear.

12454646 investment 0. The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, Yale University Press, 1981. As anyone who has worked on software. And both groups are highly mobile. Professors and politicians live within socialist eddies of the economy tend to be different from what? I felt the way I'd feel buying something made in a country where the language is intuitive enough that you catch some of the effect of growth than the cause. There are several types of investors, who have in the past, it's shocking how much they damage the companies they deal with are quasi-monopolies that get away with doing by hand things that you plan to cover at the bottom, nor noblesse oblige at the top of my head think of any x people said that about, you may also be ready to. Html comments, not even a tradeoff here. I'm not sure that will happen this time too. A rounds later. There's nothing wrong with the system; it's just too annoying to see a 25 year old has some work experience more on that later but can live as cheaply as an undergrad.

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