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itsahotminuteinbetween · 5 months

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Chapter 8

GUESS WHO'S BACK WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER That's right, after being out of commission for a couple months, chapter 8 is FINALLY finished.

AND I HAVE SOME GOOD NEWS FOR THE PEOPLE WHO'VE BEEN ASKING FOR IT:

Where the Stars Don't Shine is finally posted on ao3! The new chapter is here!

I am so so so sorry about the wait, so I made it extra long just for you guys! As always, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @bibooby, @laegume and @andyssilly, welcome back to the slumber party, I saved yall some front row seats! (If anyone else wants to be tagged just lemme know and I'll put ya in the next one!) Anyways, hope yall enjoy this, and without further ado-

On with the show!

Word Count: 4,962

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All your excitement during your encounter with Sun vanishes when it becomes clear just what sort of day it’s going to be.

You had a bit of a mixed bag in attendance today. All your regulars, plus a couple new faces here and there. It started out okay, really.

And then one new kid in particular showed his hand and cemented his legacy as one of the most spoiled children you have ever had the dishonor of meeting.

You try not to dwell on it and just move on, but this kid…this kid is awful . Pushing other kids around, turning his nose up at snacks and eating off other kids’ plates, ripping the heads off toys…

(You really have to remember to bring your sewing kit next time.)

You know it’s not the kid’s fault for his behavior, more of the people who raised him, and you try not to hold it against him, you really do. By the looks of it, Sun is trying, too, but both of your patience is drawing thin.

You draw the line when he tears out a page of your books that one of the other boys was reading.

You remind yourself repeatedly that you are not allowed to punch a child.

You do put him in time-out, though. And you can guess by this kid’s behavior that their parents are going to raise hell about it.

You discover some hours later that your assumption is completely correct when said parent comes in later to pick up their child and you confront them about the brat’s behavior, to which their response is an offended gasp and a rant about how awful your work ethic is and you’re not providing enough care this is why people like you are in jobs like this you’re lucky you’re even employed that makes the brick walls behind security desk that you have the strong urge to slam your head into all the more appealing. You stand there with a polite customer service smile and take it like the valued employee you are while trying to remember what temperature human flesh burns at before chastising yourself, until you’re thrown back into reality and catch the tail end of what she says.

“-and are you even listening to me right now? Ugh, you’re even denser than the robot, at least it can do its job right. You’re supposed to be the competent worker and you’re being beaten by a walking junkyard pile-”

Yeah, nope, not this again.

You bristle at her words, gritting your teeth slightly and forcing your smile to maintain itself. If it looks slightly more manic than intended, that can’t be helped, but you had always been good at playing the part of someone weaker than you. “I’m so sorry you feel that way, ma’am. I’m sure you can leave a review regarding our services on our website if you’d like. However, Fazbear does not tolerate abuse and slander of any of its staff. Thanks for stopping by and have a Faz-er- iffic day!”

You slam the door in her face just as she opens her mouth (likely to respond with another offensive remark) and dust your hands off in satisfaction. It’s not the first time someone’s come to complain about you and your coworkers. In truth, the company probably couldn’t care less how the clients treated their workers and their ‘property’ as long as they got paid. Slander against you, you could understand; you signed a contract and sold your soul away. One of the agreements was to deal with annoying clients. But the other two? They had been built for this, any complaint against them was the fault of the company itself, and besides, you couldn’t see them as anything other than people since the moment you’d spoken to them. After all, a company probably wouldn’t leave a prerecorded message expressing immediate hostility towards its employees on their first day of work, now would it?

They had to have some level of sentience to make that decision.

You mark off the last child with a pleased grin. At least with the way she’d reacted you could guarantee that neither the harpy woman nor her little satan spawn son ever set foot in the Daycare ever again.

You do unfortunately still have to clean up the carnage left behind, though. You grab a broom and a dustpan, ready to sweep up the crumbled play-doh and ripped stuffing from earlier, back straightening with a sharp inhale when the lights cut off. Not terribly uncommon, but it still left you uneasy. Moon didn’t get to do his little song and dance during naptime because you were preoccupied punishing a rulebreaker, and you’re pretty sure he’s fixing to dish out his skewed idea of justice one way or another.

Lo and behold, the tell-tale click of a wire descending directly behind you gives away his intentions.

“ Aww , thank you for defending our honor so nobly , little knight,” he croons mockingly. You don’t even have to turn in his direction to know he’s fanning his faceplate and fake swooning in a ‘my fair maiden’ pose. You say nothing, just sweeping stiffly under his suspended shadow and inspecting the floor. You’d have to bring out the vacuum for the carpet, plus a mop.

You miss his frown at your evident disinterest.

“So brave, to come to our aid when we were utterly defenseless ,” he continues, picking a small bit of clay off your shoulder and flicking it aside. “But you know, you seemed to have forgotten what I told you earlier…”

He pauses, seemingly waiting for some response of probing to continue. If he is, he’ll be sorely disappointed. Though you’re usually the one after them for conversation, you’re in no mood for it after the day-no, the week, the whole damn month , really- you’ve had. You just want to go home, take a shower, and sleep for an eternity.

His frown grows further in distaste, and he decides to grab your attention by gripping your shoulders tightly and lifting you a few inches off the ground. Your previously unfocused gaze now snaps to him, alert and on guard.

Wuh-oh.

That’s more like it.

“We do not need your help ,” he sneers, shaking you by the front of your shirt. You blink and gulp nervously, unsure as to where this is coming from. You feel the worst of your nausea as he starts to raise you towards the ceiling with you hanging onto his wrists tightly.

“Moon…” you speak warningly, a shot of nervousness streaking through you as the ground grows further away. His only response is a sadistic chuckle, and the delicately crafted facade over your sickness accumulating from over the past few weeks worsens exponentially. Your stomach lurches and you hazard a quick glance down. You’re hanging a good thirty feet above the ballpit and still steadily climbing, and judging by the glint in your captor’s eyes, you’re not going to like where this is headed.

It’s safe to panic now.

“Moon, stop it, that’s enough,” you tell him, voice wavering. After no response, you try again. “Moon, that’s enough, put me down.” Silence. “That’s enough , drop it!”

He stops for a second, grin falling a little before returning full force. “Well, if you insist ,” he laughs darkly.

Your eyes widen and for a moment, nothing happens. Then he yanks your hands off him and lets go, watching you plummet to the ground with sinister glee.

Then, you’re falling.

You think you scream, you can’t tell. You crash into the ballpit right after, but it doesn’t cushion your fall. You hiss immediately on impact, clenching your fists and curling in on yourself. The plastic balls dig into your spine, sending waves of pain throughout your body. Your eyes are squeezed shut and you don’t dare open them lest you see that face looming over you. You do a quick check-over, wiggling your toes and bending your joints weakly. Somehow, nothing is broken, but you can’t tell over the searing pain in your side. You thought it was bad before, but that was nothing compared to now. The dull ache is burning, setting your nerves on fire with as much as a twitch. Your back is in a similar shape, as are your legs.

You don’t know how long you stay like that before Moon’s shadow looms over you from the side of the pit. He makes some stab at you that you don’t really process over the ringing in your ears. Existing hasn’t taken such a toll on you before. His voice still carries into the white noise. You manage to get your mouth moving again and whisper, voice crackling, “Knock it off, Moon.”

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t let up on his teasing, and you vaguely register his response. “Oh, poor little worker can’t take a tumble. Too weak to pick yourself back up again? Not that I see much of a difference. You’ve always got your head down, ballpit or that desk you laze at. Best to let the ‘bucket of bolts’ do the work, hm ?”

You say nothing, not finding the idea of lifting your head and entertaining his little act worth it in your state. You remain limp in the ballpit, knees hugged to your chest in fetal position.

You hear him step closer to you, and jerk slightly when blue digits dig into your shoulders to pull you up. A cry of pain erupts from you at the fingers embedding themselves in your shoulder blades. They retract quickly as if burned by a pot sitting too long on the stove, as if this was the first time they’ve ever felt such heat before. Your severe pain and slightly depressive state dissipates momentarily and is instead replaced with white-hot anger that threatens to bubble over.

You slap his hand away and shout, “It’s not funny, Moon, knock it off! ”

He freezes, hands twitching in the air. His optics flicker, narrowing as he reaches back out to capture you once out. You smack his wrist again and ignore the added pain of striking metal.

You stagger out of the ballpit, standing on shaky legs. You don’t give him a chance to speak before you start up again.

“What the hell is wrong with you, man? You dropped me from 50 feet up, I could’ve died ! What did I even do to you?”

His faceplate turns in a silent half-rotation before he shrugs.

Oh no he did not .

You explode, gesturing wildly as his simple movement spurs you on. “So what, you just don’t like me and decided to fucking throw me off the balcony like some- some doll for you to mess around with?! Pfft, yeah sure, that makes sense! Let’s just drop someone from 40 feet ‘because we don’t like them’! Wow, Moon, I can see how you guys got your position with that logic !”

“Oh wait! ” you spin around sharply, a manic grin on your face that seems to twist every meek and modest feature on your face as you continue on. “That’s why I’m here! Because for all your hard work, Management still decided to shove me into this hellhole! And it doesn’t mean much, it’s Management, they don’t mean anything, but hey , guess what? I never wanted to be here, but surprise-surprise, no one wants to hire a nobody who didn’t push through their degree except a shady company with a world record in OSHA violations and an even bigger death toll! So here I am, getting paid 30 dollars an hour to deal with your ungrateful asses for five hours a day, not to mention the ridiculous amount of unpaid overtime of three to five EXTRA hours I dedicate to this sorry place, all without a single day off in the past six months that I have worked here, each of which have been filled with your non-stop harassment and shitty attitude, which for some bizarre reason I haven’t reported yet! So why, pray tell, have you been dead set on punishing me for a crime I have yet to commit? What did I even do to you?”

It’s a trap. Moon knows it’s a trap, but he refuses to let you get away with such slander on his turf. He rolls his eyes and huffs, “ Oh, please , you aren’t nearly as victimized as you make yourself out to be. You slack off during playtime while Sun handles everything, you’re constantly snoozing away at your desk unless you oh-so graciously decide to grace us with a moment of your time, and sometimes you don’t even show up at all. I think we have much more of a right to type up a report than you ever will.”

Alright, that’s it- “Oh, really ? Alright, buster, don’t give me that shit, I know damn well what I’m worth. For the record, I do play with the kids - which, if I may remind you, is not in my job description- until sweet lil Sunny starts giving me a death stare for daring to intrude on his precious playtime. And I do pitch in around here, just as much if not MORE than you do! Guess what, cheesehead? I clean the ballpit. I order the food, I buy the supplies, bring the books, put the kids toys back together, organize a monthly schedule AND deal with your sorry asses, so don’t be telling me how to do my job, got it ? And don’t start up about my breaks, cuz, huh , I wasn’t aware that a two minute break in the place of an hour’s worth of free time was against my contract! I take time off when I know I’m not needed so that I don’t keel over and leave you to deal with over 40 kids! And even with that, I’ve still never taken an actual sick day off the entire time I’ve worked here because I know this is how you’ll react! When was the last time I didn’t show up to work, huh?”

Moon is swift with his reply, almost anticipating the question. “Last month, you took nearly two weeks off without telling your supervisors,” he states triumphantly, as if this had somehow won him the argument.

Oh, this absolute idiot .

His victorious grin falls slightly at your disbelieving laughter. “Two weeks?! I’ve been working here for six months and you’re hung up on two weeks ?! I’ll have you know that I did tell my supervisors-which you are not , by the way- that I would be out on unpaid sick leave. And I know they didn’t tell you about it because I knew exactly what would happen, and it did! I thought you could respect it and let it go , but apparently not, cuz you can’t handle not sticking your obnoxiously pointed nose up someone’s business! And now I’m the nosy one!” Your voice grows louder, and you throw your arms out with a wide, dangerous gleam in your eyes.

“You wanna know where I was? Why I was gone? Well guess what, Craterhead, I was in the hospital making sure my brother didn’t drop dead ! I had to make sure he didn’t flat line halfway through a surgery !”

Oh.

Oh no.

Moon’s eyes widen, regret flickering across his face for a second. He takes a small step back, retreating as you advance. A jab to the chest pulls him back to the present, and his optics narrow.

“But you don’t care about any of that, do you? All you care about is your stupid reputation and oh no, Sunny and Moony can’t have a human ruining everything, because that’s all this meatbag knows how to do! Oh no, poor Sunny and Moony!”

You watch his expression drop like a thermometer exposed to subzero temperatures, red optics pinpricks in a sea of black that threaten to overtake them, contracted pupils tensed like a rubber band about to snap. A spark of something, perhaps vindication, ignites within you, overshadowing the voice in the back of your mind that quietly warns you of what to come, to back down before it’s too late.

A pity your brother isn’t here to hold you back.

Your voice drops dangerously low for a moment, a deathly whisper that somehow seeps fear into Moon’s systems more than your uncontrolled rage.“I bet you tried to break me, didn’t you, wanted to see me all battered and bruised with my tail tucked between my legs as I ran out of this godforsaken place. Oh, don’t act so surprised, we both knew you never liked me. You never liked me or the idea of someone coming along to jeopardize your position, your life’s purpose, the only thing you have ever been good for, and so you pushed, even when I went along with all your orders, all your demands and your stupid checkpoints and your stupid, stupid rules, pushed and pushed and pushed until I couldn’t take it anymore, and here we are. Well, no more ! You knew there was a breaking point, you both did. Well, here it is, the final straw! Your hard work finally paid off, you’ve made me even more miserable than before, and for what? Is this what you wanted, Moon, Sun? Are you finally satisfied? ”

Moon is still in front of you, hands drawn to his chest, pupils watching fat drops roll down your cheeks and leave stained rivers on your skin as you smile that angry, heartbreaking, defeated smile that cuts through their wires like glass shards, words stabbing through his central processors and sending a jolt through them both. He wants to respond, wants to say something clever and leave you sputtering and defeated, but nothing comes to mind. He always has a retort, a comeback, a witty remark or a snarky comment to make you bend to their will, and yet this time he’s the one left grasping for straws. He’s speechless, voicebox pushing out low static as he struggles to formulate a reply. You don’t give him the time to, resuming with a steady confidence they’ve never seen in you before. This is a side of you that is unfamiliar to them. They don’t quite know what to make of it, and so they stay unwillingly silent as you answer your own question with an air of finality.

“No, you’re not. And I’ll tell you why. This perfection that you’ve tried so hard to pin down? Hate to break it to you, buddy, but perfect is something even machines can’t accomplish, no matter how advanced or well-built they think they are. It never will be. You and Sun both think you’re oh-so-great and so far above lil ol’ me and my stupid human brain, but I think you forget that you’re just as bad as I am. I’ve seen the daycare reviews, boys, and trust me, they are not pretty. Our sweet little ball of Sunshine scared kids so bad with his pushiness that a good deal of them just didn’t come back, and you? Oh, you scared the shit out of kids, didn’t you? You left them shivering in their sleeping bags in fear of the very thing that swore to protect them.

“So tell me”- you tilt your head, smile growing sickeningly sweet as your eyes squint upwards, hands poised together as you punctuate every syllable that leaves your lips - “What exactly do you think gives you any authority over me? How do you think you can protect anyone from me when you can’t even protect them from yourself?”

You let the words hang in the air for a moment, the manic grin not leaving your face as you turn around to sweep over the daycare after the prolonged eye contact with burning red optics begins to sting your eyes.

“But hey!” you call out behind you with a laugh like shattered glass left on cold tile. “Don’t take my word for it. I’m just the dumb worker you had to boot cuz you didn’t want someone to steal the spotlight.”

You whip back around to give a final comment before catching a glimpse of Moon. His pupils are near non-existent, eyes dark and empty. His static grin is too wide, fingers too sharp, curling and uncurling. You freeze, words cutting to a halt, and you swear his grin grows wider.

“ R̶̻̘̃͂̈́͋́ ̶̢̛͇̠͔̤̥͉̜̖̫̰̬̬̝̓͛̾̅̓̑̌́͆̅̇̿̎͂̈́͘̕͠Ǘ̸̡̻͖̅̄̄̚ ̵͖̱͕̫̋̈́̀́͊̇̐̀̒̒̋͑̅̀͗̊́́̚̕͝N̵̘̰͓̹̖̘̦̪͂̓̎̅̊̀͘̕͜ ̶̡͕̙͖̟��̼͙̠̺̹̦̘̙̘̠̏̾̿̏̂͜ͅ," he growls.

It sends a chill up your spine, dousing your anger in fear. You don’t waste time waiting for him to start chasing. You’re already booking it across the Daycare and to the exit.

You’re maybe 10 paces in when you hear him behind you, wire clicking and shooting him to the ceiling. You know it’s a losing battle, he could easily take you if he wanted to. He doesn’t though, not yet. It’s the chase he’s after.

You dare not turn to check behind you, instead running blindly in hopes of somehow managing to hide. Your logical reason tells you to just leave, but it’s drowned out by pure instinct to run, get away, danger-

Moon has a severe advantage and you both know it. He knows the area. Still, you foolishly blunder on, making a hard right that almost makes you trip before you stumble back up again. You’re lucky he doesn’t do this more often because man you are out of shape. He hasn’t chased you since the first two months, you’d thought these games were behind you.

You wheeze as you bump into a wall, barely managing to dodge a wet floor bot. You can’t keep this up much longer. Your heart’s been kicked into overdrive, beating at a rate you know isn’t normal. Distantly, pain tingles in your elbow, muffled by the adrenaline pulsing through you. You’re surprised you haven’t bumped into any of the GlamRocks. They may not like you, but it’s better than this.

Maybe they’re patrolling different floors? They could be charging.

All at the same time.

Yeah…

You skid to a sudden stop. You were just here, weren’t you? Ugh, these hallways all looked the same. Your eyes dart around wildly, spotting the familiar Daycare entrance. The faces of golden statues are smiling down at you.

You can’t recall a time where that’s happened to you before.

Your eyes dart around for some place to hide, landing on a closet. You hear jingling bells in the distance.

You silently pray there aren’t any spiders before shutting yourself inside, leaving the door open just a crack for a sliver of light.

It’s not a terribly big closet. There’s maybe enough room for you to stand upright. You sit with your knees tucked under your chin, eyes never leaving the door. Just in time. The wire descends and detaches, two feet coming into view. They pad softly on the cold tile, making no noise as he prowls for his prey.

A shadow in front of the door.

You hold your breath, freezing and throwing a hand over your mouth.

A pause.

His attention is shifted elsewhere. He grumbles and stalks off, leaving you in the dark.

You wait maybe thirty seconds for the footsteps to grow silent before exhaling softly and taking stock of your situation. You’re stuck in a broom closet at work and the only other worker here tonight just left.

Not that Moon would be of any help , you thought bitterly. He just wants you out of the way.

You can’t really blame him for that , though, can you ?

The thought almost sets you off the edge, but you reign yourself in, letting go of a self-deprecating laugh and wiping the tears that form in the corners of your eyes. It doesn’t help. New ones replace them and you let your hands fall back into your lap.

No. No, you couldn’t blame them for it. You invaded their space and made a mess of things. You have a habit of doing that.

That’s why you left, after all. You couldn’t handle messing that up , either.

A shaky sob escapes you, and you press your palms to your eyes to stop the flow of tears trickling down your face. You need this job, you can’t lose it. If you lost it, you’d have no other options. You’d be out of house and home, and then what? Go back with your tail tucked between your legs?

No. You couldn’t go back.

What other choices did you have?

It didn’t matter, anyway. At the end of the day, nothing would change. You were still you, and something always goes wrong no matter what you do. Didn’t matter how hard you tried or how fair it was, it’s always the same.

Sometimes you wonder if everyone would’ve been better off had your brother been an only child.

A soft buzzing in your pocket snaps you out of your episode. You fish your phone out in surprise. That’s right, you’d put it there after this morning. It vibrates in your hand, the caller ID flashing across the screen. It’s your mother. You stare at it dumbly, making no move to answer it. You’re half tempted to just let it ring till she gives up and drops it as always, but…

You need something to keep the quiet at bay right now.

Swiping to start the call, you hear shuffling over the static and put the speaker close to your ear. A short “hello?” is heard and repeated as she tries to figure out how to use the brick in her hand.

The act is familiar and you manage a watery smile. “Hi, mom.”

“Can you hear m-oh, good, you’re there. Your brother said you messaged him this morning and we just wanted to check in.” Her tone shifts. “You okay there?”

You don’t think you can pull off pretending that you’re fine at the moment. You sniffle into the receiver, curling further in on yourself. “I’m okay, I just…I just had a bad day at work.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”she sighs, and you wince slightly, not really feeling up to whatever questions she has to ask. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head before remembering that you’re on the phone, instead muttering a quiet ‘no’ into the speaker. She stays uncharacteristically silent on the other side of the line, her subtle shifting of the phone the only indicator that she’s still on the call. You know she wants to pry further, force an answer out of you. Sometimes, you almost wish she did, wish she pushed just a bit harder so you could finally break and let it all out.

She doesn’t this time though, puttering out a soft sigh. “Well…alright. Just remember, we’re always here if you need us. Your brother’ll probably check on you anyway, you know how he gets. Just don’t let him burn the building down for your sake.”

A wet snort slips past you before you catch it, imagining your anarchist brother expressing his rage against the machine and corporate capitalism by burning down a rip-off Chuck-E-Cheese. You didn’t think your mother was capable of creating an image like that, either. She hadn’t exactly been very invested in either of your interests. You wonder if she’s been taking pointers from your brother.

You wave the thoughts aside, realizing you’ve let the conversation taper off and…

You suppose you can let this phone call end on a higher note. You both sort of need it anyway.

“Thanks, mom,” you whisper coarsely, leaning against the stacked boxes and letting your head fall back.

“Of course, dear. You just call us back when you’re ready. Oh, and try to tag along with your brother sometime, it gets lonely without you there. You were much better at listening to his mechanical jargle than we are.”

You exchange a few more quiet answers before wishing her a good night and hanging up, squinting at your brightly lit phone in the dark space. The time reads a little past 10. Moon’s first round of patrols is likely finished, which means it’s finally safe to leave this cramped compartment.

The door remains shut when you turn the knob.

You try for the handle again, rattling it with greater and greater intensity as your panic begins to build up to no avail. Your hands form fists, soon beginning to bang on the door, eyes wide and breathing erratic. Try as you might, it’s sealed like a tomb, effectively locked inside.

No, no, no , this can’t be happening, not here, not now. You don’t want to be here, don’t want to be in this dark, cramped closet at the end of some forgotten corridor, stashed with all the boxes and cleaning supplies.

Your brother had locked you into a closet once. Flipped the switch on the outside and left you alone to battle the demons you couldn’t see. It had been funny, back then, until you started screaming and begging to be let out.

It wasn’t funny now.

You drop to the floor, hands sliding down the wood to lay limply beside you. You can feel yourself shaking, bones rattling as you tremble. Your lungs burn with the force of the rapid inhale-exhale pattern you struggle to keep stable, your heartbeat pounding at the front of your head. Inhale, exhale, thump, thump, inhale, thump -oh, weren’t you supposed to exhale first- thump -and your heart’s not pumping, you can’t breathe, you need to breathe -

You gasp, head reeling, nails digging into your palms and leaving red marks. You struggle to ground yourself, forcing your eyes to focus on the sliver of light from under the doorframe. You inch back, still trembling lightly, staring blankly at the floor as the cold reality dawns on you.

You’re trapped.

No one is here to save you now.

Aaaaand that's a wrap! Hope yall enjoyed that lil chapter, seems like our y/n's gotten into quite a pickle! It's okay, though, they needed some time to process anyways. Speaking of which, Sun and Moon have a LOT to think about... Not sure when I'll post chapter 9, sorry! I have a couple of short snippets planned out already, but typing and connecting them is a whole other matter, so I dunno when I'll get back to this. Until then, however, I hope this is enough, and unfortunately...

The theater is closed...

#sorry to bother #don't mind me #where the stars don't shine #wtsds #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #fnaf moon x reader #fnaf moon x y/n #i dunno what other tags to use #also not sure if yall still want me to post the chapters on tumblr or just on ao3 #hmm #guess I'll have to put out a poll abt that

18 notes · View notes

send-allmyloving · 4 years

Note

daisuke with jealous s / o? I think it can be interesting and maybe even cute, depends on the reaction of daisuke 🤔

ohoho funnn thanks for this ask!

Daisuke with a jealous s/o

Working at Tokyo’s Metropolitan Detective Division could be a real pain in the ass. The environment there was just not as professional is you thought it would have seemed, and working as an interrogator was only slightly thrilling; you were still restricted to the Modern Crime Prevention Task Force along with Haru, and the jobs that you were forced to handle were nothing above the ordinary; just the same old drug busts and whatnot.

Of course, having your multi-millionaire boyfriend, Daisuke, at your side took off the edge a little bit, but you can’t help but be annoyed at how little things were going on in your life. You needed some form of thrill, which is why you went through the hell of studying forensic science and detective work, yet here you were sitting in a plain office with only a few people in your division, filing out paperwork.

However, what was really irking you today was seeing all the girls and guys that flocked around Daisuke everywhere he went, whether it was on missions or even in the office. He didn’t seem to mind, accepting the snacks some of them would give him and allowing them to engage with him in any kind of stupid conversation, even if they were so obviously flirting with him! Though you knew how stupidly oblivious this man could get, you still got so damn jealous that those people were trying to get to him shamelessly even when they were openly aware of the relationship you and him shared.

Your resolve finally snapped when you had just finished a field job with Haru and Daisuke, seeing the client talk with Daisuke on the side with a shameless blush dusting her face as she handed him a small gift bag, as well as a slip of paper that you were certain had her phone number on it. Your hands were balled into fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of your palm as you restrained yourself from giving the girl a punch to the face after seeing your boyfriend take both the gift and paper without even blinking.

“Haru, I’m going home. Tell Daisuke that I took the cab once he’s finished messing around with that stupid client,” you snapped at the taupe-haired man beside you while shoving your fists into your coat and briskly walking towards the street.

“H-hey! (Name)! Are you alright?” Haru attempted to call after you, but you blocked out his voice as you hailed down a cab, refusing to think back to the exasperating scene in front of you.

Daisuke turned around as the woman left, eyes meeting with Haru’s and widening with surprise as he took note of what just happened.

“Why’d they leave?” He asked his companion, genuine confusion arising in his deep voice.

Haru groaned. “You’re so damn dense. That girl was flirting with you right in front of your significant other, you idiot!”

“Was she? I didn’t know... She just gave me a gift bag,” Daisuke muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he processed the situation. Was that considered flirting?

“Of course she was! Are you stupid?! She gave you her damn phone number too! Did you see the blush on her face at all?? She was obviously trying to get with you!” Haru yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose in utter exasperation.

Daisuke looked down at the slip of paper in his hands. “But I thought she was just trying to give us a form of contact in case anything else--”

“Oh for fuck’s sake... You’re the densest man in this universe. You’re denser than a fucking brick. Just go home and talk to them already!”

He sighed, walking towards Haru and shoving both the gift bag and the slip of paper into his hands before walking towards his car to head home to you.

You were in the kitchen, making yourself some hot chocolate to distract yourself from the stinging pain in your heart as you thought back to what happened today. It wasn’t his fault, he was too stupid to realize when anyone was trying to flirt with him. It was a surprise that he was the same someone who’s had one night stands with anyone before meeting you.

You sighed as you heard the doors of the mansion open. Your boyfriend was home. Usually you would be greeting him with open arms and a wide smile, but you decided that you needed a break from him for tonight.

“(Name)? I’m back... where are you?” you heard him call out to you, footsteps growing louder as he walked towards the kitchen. You stayed silent, lips pressed together as you focused on stirring the pot of hot chocolate on the stove, your fingers tightening against the counter as you tensed.

You felt arms slip around your waist from behind and a chin rest on your shoulder, making you gasp faintly in surprise, but quickly you came to realization that it was none other than your boyfriend, probably still completely oblivious to the situation at hand. You refused to look back at him, leaning away from him as he attempted to kiss your cheek.

Daisuke felt his heart ache. He knew he hurt you, even if he didn’t mean to, but he was never used to you being this mad.

He moved his arms to hold you tighter, pulling you close to his chest, a pang of guilt crossing his heart as he felt you tense in his arms.

“I’m sorry, my darling,” he whispered, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

You froze, your stirring ceasing as your grip on the spoon tensed, teeth worrying at your bottom lip. He was apologizing. What were you supposed to say?

Daisuke’s head rose after he heard a faint hiccup emerge from your lips. He leaned his head over to see your face from the side, and sure enough, he saw small tears leaking from your eyes as you bit down on your lip to keep the sobs at bay.

“Hey... what’s the matter, angel?” he asked you softly, moving his hands up to place them gently on your arms.

“Not now, Daisuke. Please...” you choked out, still avoiding his face as you turned off the stove, moving away from his embrace as you attempted to leave.

A hand on your wrist. You stopped, still refusing to turn around to face him. You didn’t know why you were feeling so hurt by this.

“Talk to me, (Name). Just let me know what I did so I can fix it,” he pleaded.

Your heart ripped. Now you made him feel like it was his fault. Great.

“You didn’t do anything, Daisuke,” you said tearfully, finally turning to face him.

“Then tell me what’s hurting you. I’ll make it right,” he said, his voice low and gentle as he pulled you to his chest. “I’m not going to hurt you, my dear.”

You couldn’t stop it. The tears continued to flow down your cheeks as you buried your face into his chest. Daisuke calmly stroked your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he soothingly rubbed your back.

“It’s just... I-I get scared. I see all those people who flirt with you and--” a sob shook your body and Daisuke tightened his grip on your waist as you leaned into him. “I-I know you don’t realize... that.. but--” you hiccuped, “but I’m just so scared Daisuke. I’m so scared... you’re going to find someone more deserving of you and then--” a torrent of sobs took over you, as you held him tighter, your tears wetting his dress shirt, but he didn’t care. All he could feel was the throbbing pain in his chest as he watched you come apart. He felt his heart slowly breaking in half as he watched you cry.

“You’re... you’re going to leave me...” you weeped, your fingers gripping onto the fabric of his jacket as you continued to cry out your heart.

“No...” he whispered, trying to keep his voice from breaking, but to no avail. He felt a tear fall down his cheek, but ignored it as he continued to hush your sorrow-filled sobs, fingers running gently across your back and down your arms to calm your aches and tremors.

After you had quieted down, Daisuke pulled back to wipe your tears before cupping your cheeks. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, his eyes teary as he looked at you with the most heartfelt expression you’d ever seen him with.

“You deserve more than anything in this world, sweetheart. You deserve more than everything this universe holds. I love you so, so much, my angel. And I will never leave your side. Not now, not ever. I promise you, my love. You are my everything.”

You looked up at him, breath hitching in your throat. God, you were so in love with him. How could someone be so kind, and so loving?

He took your hands into his as he lifted them to his lips, planting a kiss onto every little finger. “I love you. I love every part of you,” he murmured.

Fingers still interlaced, he let go of your other hand to pull you into a warm kiss, your troubles melting away.

Pulling back ever so slightly, he slowly peppered kisses down from your jaw to your neck, and back up to your ear, his free hand sliding around to the small of your back.

“Daisuke...” you whispered timidly, holding on tightly so that the nervous quaking of your hands wasn’t obvious.

“You went through so much today because of me...”

“N-no! It’s not your fault--”

“Hush now, my angel,” he said softly, letting go of your hand to brush back your hair with his fingers as he kissed down from your lips to your jaw once more, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt to caress your skin. He spoke once more, his sultry voice filling your ears with a melody of love and lust.

“Let me take care of you tonight.”

// what the fuck i’m so sorry i’m taking so long to complete requests sighhh anyways i hope you like this mwah mwah

#daisuke kanbe x reader #daisuke kanbe #daisuke kanbe fluff #daisuke kambe x reader #daisuke kambe #daisuke kanbe smut #daisuke kanbe angst #the millionaire detective #fugou keiji scenarios #fugou keiji x reader #fugou keiji balance: unlimited #daisuke kanbe scenarios #daisuke kambe scenarios #daisuke kambe fluff #daisuke kambe smut #daisuke kambe angst #daisuke kanbe imagines #daisuke kambe imagines

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melodyofthevoid · 3 years

Note

31 and some gagr :) (gaz and gretchen btw

I fell in love with you, not them.

Y’all this is a rare pair but aight I am up to the challenge.

“So... how do you think that someone would confess to someone in your family- hypothetically of course.”

Gaz laughed as Gretchen squirmed and hid her face in her hands, face bright tomato red. Her friend really was too obvious sometimes, it amazed her.

Sometimes she wished she could wear her emotions on her sleeve like that.

“Well first of all someone would have to be interested in someone in my family other than the usual fans my dad has so mark that one as unlikely.”

“Hahah- true...”

“Second, I love my brother but he’s denser than a bag of bricks. He still thinks that Zim is a threat rather than, well. A megalomaniacal retaliator. Seriously half the time he pulls something it’s because Dib started it but will he learn? No. Will my dad ever listen to Dib? Also no. They’re all stuck in their own little worlds half the time. So good luck with Dib.”

Gretchen made a face, like someone had snuck a piece of lemon into her salad. She was upset.

“Oh, was I not supposed to say that? I mean I figured that’s why you started talking to me in the first place, but I wasn’t going to say anything. You’re a nice girl, probably too good for him honestly. Didn’t want to get your hopes up there or let you get hurt.”

“You think I like Dib?”

“Well, yeah. Half the school knows if I’m being honest.”

“Well I don’t.” Wait.

Wait hold on.

“So... what...”

“I didn’t fall for Dib silly, I fell for you.”

Oh.

#gagr #haha #gay #Invader Zim #my writing

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introvert-no-chameleon · 4 years

Text

Regrets and Red Lines

This is a deleted flashback that I wanted to put on Of Monsters and McGuckets but didn’t make the cut, so I decided to make it a ficlet instead. It’s set before the events of OM&M, but you don’t need the other fic to understand this one.

I want to get these small fragments out so I can focus on at least the first chpater of my next big fic before college takes over my life again. :*)

AO3

The lines stood out against Fidd’s skin like blood on a patch of snow. Even after scrubbing his wounds clean with soap until his boyfriend had almost passed out from the pain, they still remained as ugly as ever. It had gotten even worse once Stan had to pick up some bits of rope from the wounds. The room smelled sharply of antiseptic.

The two of them were quiet, with Stan concentrating on his work, Fidds only interrupting the silence with a whimper or grunt of pain. Even on painkillers, he knew Fidds was two good seconds away from passing out, biting his bottom lip so hard it marked the pink flesh on his lip.

“Ya sure ya don’t wanna go to the doctor?” said Stan, carefully wrapping gauze tape around the wounds.

“An’ tell ‘im what, exactly? That I was gagged by a bunch of no-good, tiny little men in red hats? They’ll have me locked up faster than I would be able to tip a cow.”

“I swear you’re makin’ up your weird southern slang as you go.”

Fidds managed a smile. “Perhaps.” He hissed as Stan touched a particularly sensitive cut under his wrist.

“Sorry,” said Stan. “Just don’t want these falling off.”

“Yer fine," he said between grit teeth. Beads of sweat littered his forehead.

Stan cut off the last bit of gauze. “There. All patched up.”

Fiddleford brought one of his wrists closer to his face for inspection. “Yer mighty good at this.”

Stan shrugged, avoiding his boyfriend’s gaze as he put the supplies back in the beat-up first aid kit they had in the shack. “Ya gotta be good at first aid when ya get into as many fights as I do.”

“Bruises ain’t the same as rope burns, Stanley.”

He where Fidds was going with this. There had been five years where Stanley had been homeless before Ford had called and they had started talking to each other again. In that time, Stan had upset some of the wrong people, half by just being a good enough boxer that people wanted to sabotage him, half because of some bad decisions of his own. He had to learn real quick how to deal with a lot more than just rope burns.

He knew Fidds had an idea of some of the stuff he’d gone through, and he also knew that it was probably in both of their best interest that Stan not tell him.

“Don’t worry about it, Fiddlenerd. The important thing is I can patch ya up.” He smiled at him, hoping that the gesture would lighten the mood a little, or at least coax a smile out of Fidds.

But his boyfriend frowned. “I suppose.” Now that Stanley had a good look at him, he could see that the man was getting paler by the second, his body trembling. Gently, Stan made Fidds lie on their shared bed.

The springs protested as he got into bed next to the smaller man and pulled him close, his chest on Fidd’s back. The recently washed hair plastered against the back of the man's neck smelled like his cheap almond shampoo. Stan took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet and comforting scent. "I ever find those bastards anywhere near you ever again, I’m gonna run them over with my car.”

“I’m fine, now Stanley. Really.” He pressed closer to Stan and let him drape an arm around his waist. “As long as yer here with me.”

Fidds head got heavier on the pillow. Stan rubbed slow circles on his partner’s back as he watched him fall asleep.

His peaceful expression was such a contrast to the wide, bulging eyes he had when Stanley had found him. A red-faced, gagged Fiddleford with dirt-covered clothing was a sight he hoped he’d never have to see again. While Stan was glad that Fidds struggled and slowed his captors down enough for Ford and him to catch up, anybody who knew about rope could tell you why pulling at it was a bad idea. He also knew that panic was a bitch, and Fidds couldn’t help the fact that he’d fought back in the only way available, even if that way involved him getting rope dug into his skin.

"I'm so sorry, Fidds," he murmured, knowing that the man couldn't hear him.

Stan hadn't been able to stop saying it after they'd fought off the gnomes and brought Fidds home. Even Ford, who could be denser than a bag of bricks when it came to Fidd’s anxiety, had apologized over and over again for leaving him alone with the little bastards while he went to get his tape measurer.

And where had Stan been when his boyfriend had gotten taken? Sleeping off a fucking hangover. It hadn’t been until Ford had shoved him off the bed, hair messed up and glasses almost falling off his nose as he explained the situation, that Stan had even known something went wrong.

This was his fault. He knew his nerd brother and boyfriend couldn’t fight for shit. Stanford usually resorted to outsmarting monsters if he needed to, but that only worked half of the time. Stanley was there for when their smarts couldn’t save him. That’s what he was good at.

And he’d failed.

#fiddlestan #young fiddleford #fiddleford mcgucket #young stanley pines #stanley pines #mystery trio #mystery trio au #angst #just two boys being sad and gay together

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championofgold · 6 years

Text

Plotter Call!

hey everyone! this one’s for a very special girl!!! general plot caller rules apply. basically, im gonna hop into your tumblr messenger and talk to you if you reply to this post, all that fun stuff. if you like the post im still going to hop into your messenger i will just be very confused. so if you’re interested in building a relationship with Clíona, hitteth me the fucke uppe

you’ve got a few options! such as:

1. Friends/Found Family: this one’s pretty straightforward! if you can get on Clíona’s good side by bonding over shared interests or even just by playing real well off of her, she’s likely to respect you and be friendly/become your friend. for someone who’s chaotic neutral, she’s surprisingly loyal to the people she cares about. also, someone needs to stop her from eating any plant she doesnt recognize. Tip: Clíona will now Die For You.

2. Sparring Partners: Clíona loves to fight, and deeply enjoys testing her abilities in competition. Anyone vaguely interested in slappin swords with her is welcome, and it can even influence other dynamics! she isn’t afraid to play dirty, either.

3. Magic Users: if you’re a spellcaster and also interested in the unknowns of magic and just generally enjoy talking about magic theory, she’s a surprisingly huge dweeb. she honestly doesn’t go wax poetic about much else aside from farming, so she’s sure to carry on a solid conversation.

4. Dungeons & Dragons & Diners & Drive-ins & Dives: Clíona really, really likes food. and drinking. honestly this is just a catchall section for if you want to have dinner with her.

6. Definitely Not Friends, In a Bad Way: make enemies with her! she’s not someone who’s palatable all the time, and can very easily rub people the wrong way - especially if she doesnt like them. she can hold grudges for years and wont let you forget it.

7. Gay?: Clíona is very much shippable, but she’s denser than a bag of bricks. if youre into slow burn, this is exactly what would happen. chemistry is important here! she has to like them! that said, she’s also extremely bad at committing to anything (selling her soul to a dead god doesnt count) so theres potential for some real emo hours, too. she’s a lesbian, so i wont be shipping her with men.

in short: this emotionally troubled jar of pickles needs friends. please talk to her about sustainable farming.

#isola plotting call #isola rp ad

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starredwrites · 6 years

Text

Fate’s Door, Chapter 14: Deadline

Masterpost/Chapter 13/Chapter 15

It was the eve of the solstice, and at a long last the insanity of the previous-Roman couldn’t believe it had been three weeks. The time felt much longer and much shorter at the same time. But now was not the time to reminisce, the curse was now or never.

Roman assumed the role of leader/drill Sargent/commander. Wrapping their mother’s scarf around their neck under the cloak, they began. “Okay, the time when the castle is the most vulnerable is when the royals are eating dinner. Lots of guards move close to the kitchens, to defend the king’s food from poisoning, and most of the servants have dinner then too,” Roman said. They were all huddled in the closed bookstore to run through strategy, dressed in dark hooded cloaks so no one would see their faces. Patton had joked that they looked like a herd of Virgils when they had all first put them on. Sloane and Corbin were busy getting anything they thought would help the group on their journey.

Fingergunning at Virgil, Roman said,“There will be two guards at the gate. We need some sort of diversion to get them away from there, since two bodies on the ground or two people frozen in place raises suspicion.”

“I can rustle leaves or something,” Virgil said, looking at the floor.

“I have a passcode for servants that will get us through the door. From then onwards, everyone needs to follow Logan and I. While we’re making our way to the dungeons, Patton and Virgil, keep a close eye on anyone we come across, but not too close. Virgil needs to use her freeze spell on anyone who notices us. We all need to act like we know what we’re doing, and like we’re meant to be there. Got that?” Roman would have the hardest time fitting in of them all, but at least if they got captured it wouldn’t mean too much legal trouble.

They all nodded. “If I know anyone, can I ask them to keep quiet instead?” Patton asked.

“Yeah, but if they’re untrustworthy, Virgil may need to use something more aggressive than a freeze spell. She can scramble their memory of the past minutes if needed, but she can’t quite finesse it yet. That could get nasty.” Roman unfolded a paper and laid it out so everyone could see it.

“Got it.” Patton gulped. As nice of a friend and person Roman usually was, they could also be intimidating.

Roman pointed at the paper. “This is a map of the dungeons. The first level has a lot of security, but there is a back way here. We just need to be really quiet. Don’t sneeze, burp, curse, fall, talk, or anything else that could make a sound. The lower levels have fewer guards, but I can make my way through them. They know me, and they’ll side with me. If I screw up, Virgil should scramble their memories. That should not happen, but we need to be prepared for all possibilities. At the very bottom of the dungeons is the cell where the Dragon-Witch is. There shouldn’t be any guards at her cell. Patton and Logan, your job is to defend Virgil with me as she performs her spell. No matter what, it’s likely that someone will see us, and we still don’t know if Virgil will actually perform the spell.”

“If things go south, we need to get out of the dungeons and go to the throne room. Then, we take out the king and I take his place. Questions?” Roman abruptly folded the paper, stowing it away in their bag.

Everyone shook their heads, and so they made their way out of the bookstore.

“Alright, goodbye!” Sloane said. “Roman, I’m only paying bail money for Logan, Patton, and Virgil. Protect them.”

Roman nodded, looking considerably more afraid. The four got up and made their way towards the door, only to be stopped by Sloane and Corbin giving them goodbye hugs. Logan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t blame his parents for wanting to hug him one last time. He was amazed they were even letting him go on what could potentially be a death mission. Usually, they were about twelve times more protective.

Silence hung over the group as they made their way through the city. Some people were inside their homes, eating dinner, but others were still out and about. They stuck mostly to back alleys, since there was no way they wouldn’t turn a few heads. Four teenagers really tense, walking with purpose, and not talking to each other would raise anyone’s suspicions. The city grew darker as the four approached the castle gates.

Virgil focused on the bushes and vines that crept into the walls around the palace. They began to shake, and a few twigs snapped. The guards didn’t notice, so Virgil continued her efforts. Realizing it wasn’t working, she pushed a brick out of the wall, making parts of the wall crumble. It was loud enough to get their attention, and both rushed over. Moving as fast as they could without drawing attention, the four slipped past the gates and approached the castle.

For the privacy of the nobility, trees are planted all around the castle just tightly enough that the lower levels of the castle are obscured from view, but wide enough that you could comfortably spread a picnic blanket between trees. There are less trees close to the gate, and they become denser as one approaches the castle. Roman was grateful for this, since there was no way there wouldn’t be any changes of plan between the bookstore and the castle doors, and everyone needed to be on the same page.

When the group was out of the guards’ range, everyone relaxed. Their paces slowed from frantic to casual. “We can talk now,” Roman said.

“I don’t know if I can pull off the spell,” Virgil said, “It was hard for me to move the brick under pressure, I can’t imagine doing a level 28 spell when the fate of the whole country rests on my shoulders.” Her face was slightly pink, and her hands were shaking.

“You can do it,” Patton said, “I believe in you. Plus, we’ll all be protecting you while you do the spell. You’ve progressed so quickly in such a short span of time, it won’t be stretching your abilities much more than you’re already used to.”

Logan looked up ahead. “Stop talking. There’s a guard right there, at the door.” Virgil swallowed her response to Patton, letting her thoughts stew.

The guard in question looked very confused at the four approaching him. When they were about five feet from the guard, Roman stepped forward. “Ducks are commonly seen at midnight, flying into chimneys.”

“That’s last week’s. Sorry, can’t let you in. Security’s been tightened, something about top security prisoners and the solstice.” The group did not move. “Go on, shoo.”

With a glance at the other three, Roman took off their hood, leaving their face visible to the guard. They sighed, then said, “As your crown prince I command that you let us through,” fast enough that no one was quite sure what they’d said.

“Hmm? I didn’t catch that,” the guard said.

Looking like they’d rather be anywhere else, Roman said, “As your crown prince, I command that you let us into the castle.”

The guard recognized them.“Oh! Yes, of course, my prince. Step right through. I’m sorry I held you up, I had no idea that it was the prince that was coming, and…” The guard rattled off excuses, while Roman led the group through the door, not even giving him a second glance.

“Thank you!” Patton said.

“I wish I didn’t have to do that,” Roman said, walking faster, “If he’s a guard who just wants to go home, he won’t tell anyone. But there’s a high chance, with me missing, that he’ll tell any member of the palace staff that stops by that the prince came through. Virgil, forget freezing spells. We need to move.”

Roman led the group at a pace that was almost running, not caring to speak to anyone as they pounded through the castle hallways. Logan gave Patton and Virgil instructions on where to turn, and they managed to keep pace with the prince. Rare electric lights passed in a blur as the labyrinth of stairs and hallways led them deep into the castle.

Legs aching, they stood before the entrance to the dungeon. The metal door had a large chain and padlock holding it closed. No guards were stationed anywhere near it. Virgil raised up a hand to break the chain, but hesitated.

“C’mon Virgil, this trick’s an old hat for you by now,” Logan said. “You broke the spines of every gross romance novel people donated at the book drive. You can do this.”

Virgil laughed a little at the memory, then pointed both her hands at the door. A link of the chain broke, and she moved the fallen chain and lock away like they were made of helium. She started to open the doors, but felt Roman’s hand on her wrist.

“Let’s not make a huge entrance, ok? We are fugitives,” they said.

Patton opened the doors, and they all walked in, feeling more confident in themselves. The difficult part for most of them was done, and Virgil’s faith in her sorcery abilities was renewed.

The confidence melted away when they took in how many guards were stationed at the entranceway to the first level of the dungeons.

Roman eyed the entrance to the shortcut. The entranceway had been made for people waiting to see prisoners. A secret stairwell was installed for prisoners to take when they had visitors, since no one wanted inmates having contact with each other at all. Many a breakout had been planned by inmates in different floors passing notes when one was taken up to see a visitor, so the castle had decided it was easier to install a secret staircase than get tighter bars for the cells.

Four guards stood between them and the lamp that concealed the secret lever. One switch, and the young adventurers would be in the stairwell before anyone could blink. Unfortunately, eight eyes were already fixed on Roman.

The guard nearest to Roman drew his gun. “We’re under direct orders from the king to apprehend you using any forces necessary and take you to your quarters. Come quietly and it will all be over.” Roman didn’t know this guard, and he’d been pretty clear that they were not friends. So much for talking their way out of this.

“Never. I’ve got better things to do.” They scanned the room for a potential path to the lamp, then noticed where the other three guard’s guns were pointed. Directly at his friends.

Come to think of it, these weren’t guards. They were soldiers. King’s Men. Roman turned to Virgil, who was right at their side. Her hands were poised to cast a spell at the slightest provocation. “Can you cast a shield that only I can get out of?”they asked in an undertone, “The soldiers can’t touch me in case they harm me, no matter what they say. If you all are safe behind the shield, I can go to the secret passage and open it for you. Then, make your way over keeping the shield between you and them. Got it?”

Nervous but determined, Virgil nodded. She focused, and with effort, a glistening wall began to form between her, Logan, and Patton.

“Come, prince. Rejoin the elite, where you belong.”

Roman’s blood boiled, but a lump also rose in their throat. They knew what that elite planned to do in the name of their country, and they didn’t want to be a bystander any longer. Hopefully, they wouldn’t become the instigator. Virgil’s shield solidified, becoming opaque. Roman ran.

The lamp, when only pulled halfway, would only open halfway. The prince gave it a jerk, and the nearly invisible section of floor rotated, taking them with it. Roman hit the wall, then walked over to the half-open entrance.

They let loose an expletive that was incredibly inappropriate for a prince-well, anybody to say. The soldiers in the entranceway and those crowded in the secret passage glared. Roman resisted the urge to curse again.

Patton, Logan, and Virgil all looked terrified. Looking from them to the soldiers, Roman knew what they had to do.

“I surrender.” They kneeled on the floor before the soldiers attacking their friends, arms raised for handcuffs. A pang shot through Roman’s heart as the cold metal clasped their wrists. Their friends looked confused, curious, and worried, but above all, afraid. This was the part of tonight that wasn’t in anyone’s plans but Roman’s.

“May I be permitted one request?”the prince asked. They weren’t very experienced in groveling, but there’s a first time for everything. Though when Roman had thought about their “first time,” this was not what they had in mind. A soldier nodded.

“I need to speak with my father, privately. And I need my friends kept safe in the meantime, preferably in my quarters.” Roman bowed their head, trying to show respect.

Virgil looked at them, her eyes practically screaming, What are you doing? Why do we need to be kept safe while you talk with the King?

Trust me, Roman tried to say with a glance, but they didn’t have very much conviction. Virgil’s shield lowered.

“We can arrange that. I’ll take you to the king, and your”-the guard glared at the three friends-“acquaintances can come with you.” With a few curt words to the four soldiers closest to him, Virgil, Logan, and Patton were taken to the prince’s rooms. Two soldiers flanked Roman, taking them towards the throne room.

Heart breaking in two, Roman watched their friends being taken away. Each of them had a soldier that was more or less physically forcing them towards Roman’s rooms. It hurt to see their friends more or less hauled along by guards. That was Roman’s fault, and they couldn’t help but feel guilty. They could only hope that their friends stayed comfortable while Roman did...this.

While Roman knew that the soldiers couldn’t touch them without their permission, they were still jittery. Sure, there was a chance they would convince the king to step down from the throne, and carefully word everything so that they had what was basically full control of the country, but there would be big sacrifices to make, as the king was who he was. The presence of two public displays of the king’s power did not calm their nerves at all.

TAGS: @fanficptsd (care to be notified?)

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richie-rich-tozier · 6 years

Text

all i got -- richie tozier x oc (pt1)

pairing: richie tozier x oc

warnings: swearing, smoking, domestic abuse, mentions of sexual things??

word count: 2238 (pretty long tbh but that’s just how i write i guess)

summary: CJ and her family moved from Phoenix to Maine, taking their belongings and secrets with them. CJ has little hope for the change until a certain Trashmouth introduces some potential.

a/n: basically, this is my first post-a-ma-jig of, like, actual content. i wrote this before i started this account which is why it’s the protagonist is an OC. if people don’t like that, i can rewrite this to make it an x reader and write x readers in the future.

hope this doesn’t suck! xo

The clouds seemed to get darker and denser as I got closer and closer to what would soon be her new home. Derry, Maine was, from what she researched, a place quite unlike her hometown of Phoenix, Arizona. She was, unwillingly, trading crystal clear blue skies, golden sunshine, and closest friends for grey cloud-ridden skies, cold rain, and a bunch of small-town strangers.

The day she found out she was moving was a day she hated for more reasons than one. The first reason being, of course, that she had received the dreadful news that she was leaving Arizona. The second reason being that she told her boyfriend of a year that she didn’t love him. The third reason being she slept with Josh Herrin.

She also turned seventeen.

As she drove past a sign that announced her family had arrived in Derry, she tried her hardest to push these thoughts from her mind. She turned up the volume on her Walkman, she took in the town of Derry and what little it had to offer; not much. Pulling up at the traffic lights by a large statue of Paul Bunyan, she felt a light touch on her knee and looked from her window to see her mother with a small smile on her face.

“So, this is our new home, well, the surrounding area,” she grinned hopefully once I had removed my headphones. “What do you think?” I watched as her eyes flitted in the direction of my father and back again rapidly.

I chose my words carefully. “It’s nice,” I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

“Good, good...” my mother mumbled as she turned to sit properly in her seat once again. My father placed a hand on my mother’s thigh and she flinched. He didn’t stir, and she rested a feeble shaky hand on top of his. I resisted the urge to audibly wince.

The drive continued in silence as I decided to turn off my Walkman. We soon pulled up to a pale coloured home that looked too perfect to live in. It was eerily perfect against the dreary backdrop. As soon as my father stopped the car, my mother jumped out of the car and rushed to the door to unlock it, then hurried back to the trunk of the car before hastily grabbing a few bags and hustling it inside. I sighed before making my way outside of the vehicle.

“Hurry up, slow poke,” my father growled low as he walked past me. Shivers rolled my spine and I did as instructed, copying my mother.

I was sent upstairs after retrieving all the boxes from the trailer we had rented. I was instructed to unpack my room and the bathroom. I was relieved at the chance to escape my father’s eyes and rushed upstairs. I hadn’t taken much with me; partly because I wasn’t brought up to be the sentimental type and partly because I wasn’t allowed to. If I could’ve, I would’ve brought the Arizonan horizon with me. Instead, I brought a few photographs, a bed set, most of my clothes, my Walkman, my tapes and records, a record player, a boombox, and my makeup. I unpacked all of this fairly quickly, only taking two hours, and then set to work on the bathroom.

I had left the door open as I did so and could hear some commotion from downstairs as I unpacked the toiletries. It began with the shattering of a dish.

I heard my mother let out a shriek followed by the thundering of footsteps across the ground floor, a banging of cupboard doors, another shriek from mother and the sound of skin aggressively hitting skin.

“Now why would you do that?” I could hear my father spit. I snuck to the stairs and peered into the kitchen where I could see my mother cowered on the floor whilst my father hovered above her, a hand in her dark brown hair. She didn’t respond, she just whimpered and shook. “I said why!” he yelled.

My mother shakily sobbed. My father violently threw her head away from him, hitting her skull against the cabinet. He stomped towards the front door and I scurried up the stairs as he put on his boots and jacket.

“When I come back, this place better be unpacked and a cold beer waiting for me!” he announced before heading out the front door. I heard my mother’s sobs get louder as they escaped her fragile body. I was selfish and decided to save my self instead of helping her, fearful that my father may see me. I returned to unpacking the bathroom.

Once I had finished that, I returned to my room and sat down on my bed, staring out of the window. I could see the setting Derry sun and realised that it would be a long while until my father returned home. Mother’s crying had either stopped or quietened to a volume that CJ couldn’t hear. She proceeded to pull on her Chucks, throw her fake ID in her pocket with a handful of cash before going to find her mother downstairs. Tiffany Elizabeth Burlow was sitting at the dining room table, a glass of cloudy water in her pale hands, her posture impeccable and her expression unreadable. All CJ could read into her mother’s expression was that she would be passing out soon.

“Can I go to the pharmacy? I forgot to bring a toothbrush with me and I don’t want bad breath,” I nervously laughed.

My mother slowly moved her hazel eyes to my person, her expression dead and her dark circles aching. “Of course, sweetie, be safe,” she hummed, her lips twitching to a smile like a tick before returning to nothingness, her eyes settling on her drink.

I grabbed the keys to my mother’s car that had been waiting here for our arrival. Hopping into it, I took a deep breath before turning the keys in the admission and heading in the general direction of town, to where I recalled seeing the pharmacy earlier. It was a quiet drive with no traffic and little to see. Most residents seemed to be hidden away in their homes or elsewhere whilst a few kids and teenagers strolled between the diner and the movie theatre. I pulled up outside the pharmacy and headed inside to find it completely empty other than the cashier and myself.

I stood in the entrance for a moment meeting eyes with the boy behind the counter, clearing my throat before searching for a toothbrush, not that I had actually forgotten mine, but I needed the evidence that I had left the house to retrieve one. I also grabbed a packet of smokes when I was at the counter. The boy looked between me and the packet of Marlboro with and unconvinced expression. He priced up the toothbrush and then stopped.

“ID?” he asked, a small and outstretched towards me. The boy was just shorter than me with dark hair and a polo shirt. He didn’t seem very intimidating and so I felt confident. I pulled out my fake ID, batting my eyelashes at the boy who blushed lightly at the slight contact of my fingertips and his. He scanned the plastic, looking back up at me every now and then. “I’m sorry but—”

The boy was cut off as the doors of the pharmacy opened and another guy came strolling in, dark curly hair a mess around his pale and freckled face. I instantly spotted a purple mark on his neck and that he looked very dishevelled. “Eds!” the boy greeted loudly as he walked in, slightly out of breath.

“I told you not to call me that,” the boy at the counter sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Look, I’m not here to chit-chat, Eddie,” he said dismissively to the boy I now knew as Eddie. “I’m here on a mission.”

“A mission?” Eddie repeated.

“Condoms,” Richie stated. “Eds, I need condoms.”

Eddie sighed again. “Aisle 2,” was all he said before pricing up my cigarettes and handing them back to me. I shot him a small smile before reaching in my pocket for the cash.

The other customer, supposedly Eddie’s friend, approached the counter then, throwing a box of twelve condoms down with some money on top.

“No need to worry, doll. I got it,” he grinned as he leant against the counter beside me. He was rather close, too close.

I placed a finger on his chest and pushed him away lightly, taking my things and walking towards the doors. “Gee, thanks,” I mumbled sarcastically, loud enough for the tow boys to hear. Eddie sniggered, and the guy hit him on the chest.

I pulled a cigarette from the packet as soon as I exited the pharmacy, placing the butt between my lips and sparking it up. The smoke filled my lungs before I forced it out again. I leant against a brick wall just outside as I enjoyed my smoke. Soon enough, my time was disturbed.

“Forget something, Amanda Gould?” a voice asked from my right. I turned in the direction of the sound to see the tall and curly haired boy from before reading my fake ID as he approached me. He looked up when I didn’t reply and focused his chocolate brown eyes on my own. I noticed that he was very attractive, but he didn’t seem trustworthy.

“My name isn’t Amanda,” I replied once he was close enough for me to snatch the plastic away from him. I placed it in my pocket before taking another pull of my cigarette.

“I think Hot Stuff suits you better, anyways,” he joked, standing further away than he had inside the pharmacy. I didn’t react to his comment and looked away from him, disinterested. “This is the part where you laugh and tell me your actual name, sweetheart.”

“Oh really?” I said in a bored tone.

“I mean that’s usually how it goes.” Again, he was met with silence. “Well, if that’s how you’re gonna be, I’ve got better things to be doing.” The boy headed past me and slid into the driver’s seat of a car, a girl in the passenger seat giggling like a bimbo as the tow sped off. I scoffed, stomped out my cigarette, and headed towards my mother’s car.

Once I arrived home, I wasn’t surprised that my father’s car still hadn’t returned. What did surprise me was the car parked on the other side of the street. It was the car that belonged to the curl haired boy who needed condoms. I rolled my eyes at the sight, noticing that it was the only car at the residence and that the only light that was on was one on the second floor.

Inside my new home was quiet when I entered. I walked slowly around the downstairs to find it empty and walked upstairs to find my mother passed out on her bed. I sighed a quiet sigh before heading in to my room, getting washed and changed, and then crawling into bed having nothing else to do.

I was awoken by the slamming of the front door.

“Tiffany!” father bellowed, speech slurred. I soon heard my mother running from her bedroom down the stairs, then I heard some crashing. “You stupid bitch! You fell down the stairs!”

“I’ll get you a beer,” I heard her say, tears in her throat.

“You should’ve been waiting with one.”

I kept my eyes clenched tight together as I tried desperately to fall back to sleep.

“Here you go, John,” mother mumbled.

A moment of silence passed. “This is warm.” More silence, the sound of heavy footsteps moving slowly and clumsily against hardwood floors. “Was it not in the refrigerator?”

“I-I-I—” was all I heard my mother stutter before I heard my fathers hand connect to my mother skin.

“Stupid fucking bitch!” he yelled. I heard tin rattle against the floor. “CJ!”

My heart dropped and my pulse raced as I shot out of bed and sprinted to my father wordlessly. I stood on front of him with my head low. It seemed that he had thrown the can at my mother who was cowering against the wall, covered in beer with a handprint on her cheek and a bruise developing on her forehead.

I made the mistake of glancing up at my father. He snarled before pushing me hard against the front door, my face forced against the wood, Tears were flowing freely from my eyes as I supressed the sobs threatening to erupt from my throat.

“God forbid you turn out anything like your mother,” he spat lowly in my face. I could make out my mother quietly muttering to herself in the corner as she traced droplets of alcohol that ran down the wall, her fingers trembling, her body raked with tremors.

My father grabbed my cheeks in he meaty hand and turned my face towards him. Using his free hand, he brushed a dark strand of hair from my face and let the back of his fingers brush against my neck. I shivered against his touch and he smiled a small and terrifying smile before throwing me to the floor, my head smacking the floor causing me to pass out on the floor of the entryway to our brand-new home sweet home.

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thebibliomancer · 6 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #167: Tomorrow Dies Today!

January, 1978

Oh hey the Guardians of the Galaxy! Not the ones more known these days and never at the same level of popularity but an interesting bunch just the same!

I’ve been actually thinking of going and reading some of the original team original run.

On this cover, Beast punches a guy in the face and the rest of the Avengers are like hey slow your roll this is a crossover not a hero vs hero event.

Anyway, we start off killing tomorrow today with a priority communications alarm interrupting him from his shower.

You’d think that since its a communications alarm and not necessarily an emergency, he could continue showering and let someone else take the call and if it is an emergency then someone can knock on the door and let him know.

Like, I understand that with the stuff the Avengers deal with its good to stay on your toes but Beast is completely covered in hair. When he starts a shower, its a long, inevitable process that should be seen to until the end.

Otherwise he’s going to drip everywhere and probably smell like dog.

He’s not even the only one who is not ready. Scarlet Witch is half dressed.

And Steve “I probably go on a ten mile run every morning for fun” Rogers criticizes Beast for not getting up to shower at 0600.

Beast, Cap, and Scarlet Witch arrive at the communications center to find Vision already there.

Also, why do they have so many chairs in here? This is more chairs than they have in their living room.

A lot of the Avengers equipment is a mystery to me. They seem like they have a lot of the typical superhero headquarters monitoring equipment but also they so often wait for problems to happen on the news before they notice them.

Anyway, it actually is an emergency so Beast would have had to interrupt his shower anyway.

Nick Fury is on the horn and he tells them to turn on the feed from the Avengers’ monitoring satellite because of course they have one of those and need to watch the news anyway.

Per Fury’s request, they focus the Avengers satellite on the SHIELD space station. Weirdly they can’t see any stars behind the station. Just an endless wall of white.

Beast zooms out and-

AHHHHHHHHHH UNICRON HAS COME AT LAST TO DEVOUR OUR WORLD!

Galactus is going to be miffed.

Except no. This looks like a double Unicron. Which is possibly twice as bad.

Apparently this giant structure popped out of nowhere and its orbit is going to smash the SHIELD station all over it in a couple hours.

So the Avengers assemble to finish getting dressed and also to go check out a mysterious huge space thing.

Like I said, this is the huge space thing portion of their lives.

On the station, playboy industrialist Tony Stark claims he has urgent business on Earth.

Nick Fury is like no shit of course I’m not letting you get smashed with the rest of us you dink, get on a shuttle and go.

Fun fact: the SHIELD space station is where Steven Lang’s Project: Armageddon set up shop. And coming up to space to stop him is what led to Jean Grey becoming the Phoenix.

Secretly, Tony Stark has to get back to Earth so he can change into Iron Man and lead the Avengers back up here.

Double lives are hard.

Meanwhile, Thor and Wonder Man are enjoying some bonding time in a diner.

Thor confesses that some mysterious force has been transporting him back to Earth every time the Avengers need his help. Which has to be every couple of days. Its almost as if he’s being displaced through time.

Wonder Man goes wow cool uh I’ll be no help figuring that out but as long as we’re here maybe you can give me some advice.

Wonder Man: “You see... sometimes I -- I feel as though I’m not man enough to be a super man!”

-interrupting Avengers beeper says no time for feels, time for punches-

So Wonder Man and Thor fly back to Avengers’ Mansion.

But they have to wait because Iron Man still hasn’t joined them.

And when he does show up, Cap goes off on him.

Iron Man: “Sorry I’m late, group!”

Captain America: “You’re sorry you’re late? A hundred men might die up there, and --”

Iron Man: “Then shut up and get into the ship!”

Also, new Quinjet! Space Quinjet!

Only minutes later, the Avengers have arrived on the SHIELD station. Which is... really impressive.

But since it took them so long (because of Iron Man), there’s no time left for anything fancy. The big double Unicron is only half a mile away.

Now the only option is to spacesuit up (except for Thor and Vision), rocket across to an opening that the station’s brand new Stark computer pinpointed, and find a way to redirect or destroy the giant space thing in... fifteen minutes.

Geez.

I’m pretty sure fifteen minutes wouldn’t even get you from one side to the other of that thing.

But the Avengers do rocket across. And the opening that the computer found was an airlock. And interestingly, they find that the atmosphere inside the station is breathable and even chemically perfect for humans!

Now that is interesting. Does that mean that this is a human construction?

Not necessarily. The Avengers never had trouble breathing on Skrull ships or Thanos’ giant H, or even on the Kree homeworld.

I mean maybe the chemically perfect line signifies that even beyond everyone in space breathing the same thing except that one group of aliens that kidnapped that lung expert, that this construct has a human friendly atmosphere.

Iron Man weighs in. Atmosphere or not, whether the occupants are humanoid or not, this construct is far beyond the capabilities of any Earthly power.

Boring and also a waste of time says Cap.

And he steps up and takes charge, giving everyone a directive.

They should split up to cover more ground.

And while that would usually be a bad idea on a space station that appeared out of nowhere and could contain any number of alien nasties, the simple fact is that they have a vanishingly small amount of time.

Splitting up is the only way to cover any significant amount of territory.

So Vision and Wanda are one team. Wonder Man and Cap another. Thor and Iron Man another. And Beast is on his own because they have an odd number of people.

Although Beast wonders why he’s the one without a partner. He used mouthwash that morning!

Meanwhile, while Iron Man dismisses Thor’s concern that Iron Man might be troubled over Cap taking charge, in reality he is troubled.

Iron Man: “On the other hand it’s no secret what Cap thinks of my leadership! I suspect his resentment is growing and getting personal! With the stakes the team is playing for, that kind of dissension can lead to sudden death!”

Maybe its time to consider whether someone without their own book should lead the team then.

Meanwhile elsewhere, Beast is climbing through the air ducts or perhaps Jefferies tubes. And actually Cap had a point splitting him off like this. Beast is the only one who has the agility to crawl through tubes like this.

Good call, Cap!

But when he pokes his head out of the Jefferies air duct, someone grabs him and yanks him out like a radish.

Hey, its Charlie-27! From a race engineered to live on Jupiter, he’s about 11 times stronger and denser than a normal human being.

Also, its Nikki Gold! Raised on Mercury, she has high resistance to heat and most radiation and also HER HAIR IS FIRE.

And the thing is, they don’t think Beast is an enemy. They think he’s some kind of ugly alien space monkey that can also parrot words like a raven.

Beast refuses to put up with that sitting down dangling by his scruff so he kicks Charlie-27 in the face and starts bouncing all over the room.

Nikki tries to shoot Beast because, hey, he’s a rude monkey. But he’s bouncing so fast she can’t get a bead on him despite having aim adjacent to Annie Oakley’s.

But then Beast tries to tackle Charlie-27 and just bounces off. Because dang. Remember? Eleven times more massive than a normal person? Its rather like Beast just tried to jump kick a brick wall.

Before possibly breaking a toe kicking a guy built like a brick house, Beast also muses on the weirdery of the two of them speaking English.

Which again isn’t so odd. Universal translators exist. And a lot of aliens speak English.

But all these things like the atmosphere and aliens speaking English? This time they signify something other than narrative convenience.

Nikki jumps to confront the dazed Beast but with a RRRAK! a coherent light burst separates the two.

The rest of the Guardians have shown up, specifically Starhawk who tells Charlie-27 and Nikki to stand down.

Starhawk: “This fighting must cease! I sense that he is not evil! Accept the word of one who knows!”

Lets run up the line.

Blue guy red fin is Yondu Udonta and he is absolutely familiar if you only know Guardians from the movies. Like in the movies, he has special arrows that he can control through whistling. But in the comics he also uses a bow. He is from Alpha Centauri which kind of breaks the theme of the Guardians all being humans but adapted for life on different planets of the solar system.

Unlike the movies, Yondu is portrayed as noble savage IN SPACE. Going with that he has an intuitive and mystical rapport with nature. IN SPACE! Making him a space Alabaman was probably a better idea.

Next there is Starhawk. In the movie he was Sylvester Stallone and very disappointed in Yondu. In the comics, he’s just weird. He was conceived on Earth, was born on Vesper, and was raised on Arcturus IV. He has a grab bag of powers like flight, super strength, light manipulation and being the one who knows thanks to being empowered by the Hawk God. He’s also in an on-again off-again fusion with an Aleta Ogord. He’s basically weird.

Next is Martinex. His people were genetically-engineered to colonize Pluto so he’s made of silicon crystal instead of meat. He can also siphon heat out of the environment or vent it. Which lets him shoot heat rays or cold beams somehow.

And finally we have Vance Astro, Major Victory. He’s another weird one. He was sent on a mission to help colonize Centauri IV, put in cryogenic hibernation, and woke up to find that he wasted his damn time because faster travel had been invented and people got there before him. And now he has to stay in his astronaut suit or age rapidly. Also also, he has psychokinesis. And also his younger self became New Warrior Marvel Boy and probably ruined his chances of becoming an astronaut by killing his abusive dad.

Comics are weird.

Beast doesn’t know this though. He just sees a bunch of asshole aliens who are still calling him monkey so he jumps to attack Charlie-27′s face.

But is interrupted when Mjolnir flies by, snags him in its loop and drags him away. Which is damn good trajectory control.

Anyway, despite split up gang we’ll cover more ground, the Avengers have reassembled off-screen and apparently recognize the Guardians from prior team-ups. With Cap in Marvel Two-in-One #5 and with Thor in Thor Annual #6.

And now Major Victory recognizes the Avengers. Because he is from this time period and oh man oh geez the Avengers are his heroes! He used to dream of meeting them!

So a potential misunderstanding fight cut off before it began and the teams introduce themselves.

And no worry about the SHIELD station. The Guardian’s meteor deflectors will gently shove it out of the way instead of running into it. This whole mission was pointless!

Except as set-up. And honestly, even if the Guardian’s station wasn’t going to run into the SHIELD station, I’d hope that they’d be interested in why a giant space thing appeared.

Thor recaps his crossover with the Guardians because it happened so recently he hadn’t had a chance to put it in the Avengers files yet and also because the details are relevant.

He teamed up with the Guardians to invade Korvac’s Wonderworld. Who is Korvac?

He was a collaborator with the Badoon when they conquered the Sol System IN THE FUTURE. But they caught him napping at work one day so they grafted his upper body to his work station because the Badoon are dicks.

So obviously he turned on them and started a plan to conquer the cosmos by trying to make Earth’s Sun go nova.

Aw dangit, Thanos, you trendsetter!

The Guardians plus Thor were able to thwart Korvac’s plan and minions but Korvac escaped by traveling back in time to the year this year.

They’re not sure what he’s planning but when a guy who tried to blow up the Sun goes back in time you just have to kind of assume its nothing good. For instance, Major Victory’s past self is currently a child on Earth. If Korvac kills young Vance Astro, then Major Victory never gets frozen like a space Captain America and never goes on to form the Guardians.

So they have to stop him. Except if its on Earth, Major Victory can’t get involved. Two Vance Astros on Earth would mess up the time stream.

(Beast you were right there for this conversation, why did you think bringing the original X-Men into the present from the past was a good idea??)

Meanwhile, on Earth, Janet Van Dyne makes her debut as a fashion designer.

I had been wondering where she and Hank (Pym) were. Sort of weird that they didn’t get paged about this though. There’s a giant thing in space and they buzz Thor and Wonder Man away from dinner but Jan doesn’t get called away from her fashion show.

Maybe she left her bleeper at home.

Anyway, also in the crowd is Kyle Richmond, aka Nighthawk, aka Not-Batman. He’s usually on the Defenders, being a jerk, but Yellowjacket is sometimes doing stuff with the Defenders so maybe that’s why he’s here.

He does comment to himself that it’s weird for him to sit through a fashion show.

Kyle Richmond also notices a weirdo sitting next to him in the crowd. Wearing a tux in this day and age and sitting like a statue. He doesn’t react to anything until a model named Carina Walters takes a turn down the catwalk in a sultry summer jumpsuit.

Kyle being the kind of person he is, sees that this weirdo stranger reacts to Carina and thinks “Forget it, pal! You’re not her type!”

You’re a gem, Kyle.

And then Porcupine busts in to rob the place.

Just his luck that he chose to rob a place where three superheroes were chilling. Porcupines are seriously unlucky.

Hank Pym and Janet waste no time shrinking down to shoot the robbers with tiny blasts.

Janet was also far-thinking enough to have her dress made from unstable molecule cloth so she wouldn’t have to fly around naked just in case a supervillain tried to rob her fashion show.

Its this kind of forethought that made her one of the better chairpeople that the Avengers ever had.

Just saying. Civil Wars don’t happen when Jan runs the show.

And while the rest of the audience panics and flees and screams, the mysterious tux weirdo continues to calmly sit in his seat.

Kyle Richmond managed to sneak off and change into his costume and I don’t even know where he managed to hide the wings because they would not fit under his civilian clothes.

But anyways, he helps punch people that dare ruin Jan’s big debut.

Including a guy that hesitates from shooting at Nighthawk because he doesn’t want to go up on a murder rap. Nighthawk makes the very valid argument that not making a decision is a way of making a decision and unnamed robber made the right decision.

What a weird segment. I hope no-shoot criminal turns his life around.

Anyway, the tuxedo weirdo shows up where Carina is tending to a fainted Mrs. Lichterdale. And he silently offers her a hand.

And without a word spoken she feels his desire but also his offer and without a word spoken she departs with him.

And they seem to teleport or something from the scene while the heroes are distracted shooting Porcupine with pink and yellow zaps until he finally falls down.

Only after the villains are all unconscious does Mrs. Licherterdale inform Jan that Carina is missing along with Jan’s sultry summer jumpsuit.

Hank is sure that she just got frightened and ran off somewhere. She’ll turn up!

Jan: “I hope! That was my favorite outfit!”

Oh Jan!

So here we go again. Once again we take our first step into a run defining story arc. It was only back in May that I started the Celestial Madonna Saga and now here we are once again on the front porch of a long saga I have mixed feelings about.

The Korvac Saga.

The Shooteriest part of Shooter’s run on Avengers.

At the least, we’re going to get some more time with the Guardians. The downside to not having a misunderstanding fight is that if you’re solely following Avengers, we haven’t really seen what they can do yet.

And they have some good batshit stuff that they get up to. Like the giant double Unicron station? Its called Drydock. It was a, well, drydock and training facility. When the Badoon invaded, the commander used its experimental warp drive to keep the station out of Badoon hands. But warp radiation killed the entire crew.

In an almost Red Dwarfian move, the computer needed people to give it orders. So it created a simulated crew to tell it what to do. Except the simulated commander went insane and captured the Guardians of the Galaxy to create a clone army of friends. So Charlie-27 had to run the gauntlet of the station’s security and shut down the computer.

That stuff right there? That’s amazing. And I don’t mind at all if the Guardians are hanging around bringing that kind of craziness to the Avengers.

Oh and also, I guess there’s the mystery of what Korvac is up to and whether the tuxedo weirdo is related. I already know the answer but what are you going to do? Google information?

Pssah.

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beeing-sophie · 7 years

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Just wrote a new blog all about self-care, from myself more than anything! Really trying on the self-compassion front, including making myself a nice coffee after over a week without - damn you virus! But the "you're screwing up" thoughts are constant, as this virus is lingering on and I'm forcing back food with no appetite. I am also in a freaked out headspace from the low fat talk PTW Dad just came back from Waitrose with two bags of stuff, and he was really happy he'd found stuff he can have so obviously wanted to "share the joy" - only trouble is, it's hard for me to be enthusiastic by the exclamations of "I can't believe how low fat this is!" And then suggesting I have it with him? Great plan for weight gain 🙉 He also said how he was "gutted fish fingers weren't okay" and listed all the foods he couldn't have. Including lots of foods I eat... Recently, R has been talking to me about working on denser foods and eoejeoejdosdj I KNOW our needs are different. I know this and I know I keep moaning on about this! It's the CONSTANT TALK, when my head already has such anxiety with fats - which all started 6 years ago, the first time my dad did a low fat diet. R rang me yesterday for a phone appointment, to make up for last Thursday. And usually she's really talkative back but she wasn't - my head is kinda reading into it as a sign she's less inclined to treat me, which I only have myself to blame for. The fact I missed my appointment and I'm absolutely bricking it for Thursday - I need to have gained again, but I'm scared I won't have because of this virus. I cried through dinner last night, as I had no appetite but was adamant I was finishing it - even when mum and dad said I should stop. This morning I was crying as I shovelled nuts into my mouth, I'm at this desperation point but it doesn't feel controlled. I feel on edge, unsafe in myself and my head. All of this going on at home and I'm trying so hard to be kind to myself. I'm trying. The question of worth is overwhelming me though and guilt over food is a seesaw - not good enough at recovery, yet at the same time the voice of anorexia. Either way I turn, it's never quite enough.

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kittykat-creations · 7 years

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Mullet Man: The Small Lumber Town in Roadkill Country, Oregon

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter

-----

"Mommy! Fly! Fly!"

"Yeah, that's a fly," Bella rolled her eyes, swatting the bug away. "Shoo."

"Shoo!" Marcella repeated, waving her hand.

"Ha! Good job, Marcella," Bella laughed. Marcella turned to see Ella climbing on the back of the couch and gasped happily.

"Sis'ah!" She exclaimed, pointing.

"Yup, that's sister," Bella said, standing up and lifting Ella off the couch. The toddler whined. "And she shouldn' be climbin' on the couch. Er the back'a the couch."

Stan entered the apartment, mail in his hand. He was staring at a postcard in shock.

"Somethin' wrong, Stan?" Bella asked.

"Ford... wants me to visit," Stan said, handing Bella the postcard. Written on it was 'PLEASE COME! -FORD' in large letters.

"Seems important," Bella said. "Are you goin'?"

"Well I'd like to, but I don't wanna leave you to take care'a Ella and Marcella by yourself," Stan said.

"So let us come with you," Bella reasoned. "I'd like ta talk ta Fidds. He hasn' been answerin' lately, an' I'm, kinda worried."

"You think we could take the twins along?" Stan asked. "It's a long drive."

"Keep 'em distracted, I... think we could," Bella nodded.

"Alright," Stan agreed. He smiled, kneeling down and hugging the twins. "You kiddos wanna visit your Uncle Ford?"

-----

Stan pushed the hotel door shut with his foot, carrying a sleeping Ella in his arms.

"Let's have them sleep on the couch," Bella whispered, holding Marcella, who was also asleep. The two of them laid the sisters down on the couch. They were already dressed in their pajamas, and had been asleep for hours. "Could ya go get my blankets, please? Ah'll stay in here with these two."

"Sure," Stan nodded and left the room. He soon returned with Bella's suitcase. He set it on the floor, pulling two smaller blankets out of the side pockets and wrapping the twins in them. Bella grabbed her own blankets and tossed them on the hotel bed. Her and Stan undressed and climbed into bed after turning off the lights.

"So why do ya think Ford... wants ya taaaa come up ta Gravity Falls?" Bella asked in a whisper.

"I have no idea," Stan murmured, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend. "Must be important, though, for him to want me to go all the way there. We haven't talked in ten years."

"Tha' alwa- that's always so sad to me," Bella frowned. "Maybe he wants ta make up."

"I hope so," Stan mumbled. "But somehow I doubt it."

-----

"Come on, arm through the sleeve," Bella said, putting Marcella's arm through the sleeve of her coat.

"Ella," Stan sighed in annoyance as the younger twin refused to cooperate. "Come on, you gotta wear the coat. It's cold."

"No!" Ella yelled. Eventually Stan was able to get the coat on the struggling toddler. Once he picked her up and held her out in the snow, she became distracted by said snow and stopped fidgeting.

"Ya've got the bag?" Bella asked, pulling her hood up and holding Marcella.

"Yeah," Stan nodded, lifting the strap of the baby bag over his shoulder. The family approached the front door, and Stan seemed to hesitate before knocking.

"Who is it?!" Ford yelled as he opened the door. "Have you come to steal my eyes?!"

A crossbow was aimed at them. Stan's arm was over Ella protectively and Bella had jumped backwards, pulling Marcella closer. Said toddler began crying.

"Well I can always count on you for a warm welcome," Stan deadpanned. Ford shook his head and looked between Stan and Bella in shock.

"What- Bella- what are you doing here?" Ford asked, pulling them inside. "Did anyone follow you?"

"Um, you called my boyfriend up, and Ah'm not takin' care'a two toddlers by myself," Bella rolled her eyes.

"And hello to you, too," Stan said sarcastically. Ford grabbed Stan and shone a mini flashlight in his eyes. "Ah!" Stan shoved him away. "What is this?!"

Ford shone the same flashlight in Bella's eyes. She blinked in confusion, but didn't shrink away from the light.

"Sorry, I just have to make sure you aren't..." Ford shook his head as he clicked the flashlight off. "Uh, it's nothing." He looked at Ella and Marcella, who both looked scared of him. "No, he wouldn't... Bella, you- Stan is your boyfriend?"

"Uh, yeah? Maybe if ya called every once in a while, ya'd know that," Bella grumbled.

"And... these two are...?"

"Jeez, you're denser than a brick, Ford," Stan rolled his eyes. "They're your nieces. Ella and Marcella."

"I... I have nieces?" Ford murmured. His look softened before going back to the way it was. "No. That doesn't matter right now." He pulled out a journal, leading Bella and Stan deeper into the house. "There isn't much time. I've made huge mistakes, and I don't know who I can trust anymore."

"Hey, uh, easy there," Stan frowned. "Let's talk this through, ok?"

"Stanley, I have something to show you," Ford said, shaking off the hand his brother had set on his shoulder. "Bella, could you wait up here, please?"

"Uh, sure," Bella frowned in confusion, taking Ella and the baby bag from Stan. "But-"

"Great. Stanley, follow me," Ford instructed, taking off down the hall.

"I guess I'll see you in a bit?" Stan said to Bella. He gave her a kiss before following his twin.

"Daddy!" Ella called, wiggling in Bella's hold.

"No, we're staying here, Ella," Bella said, setting the two girls on the floor. Marcella stayed by her mom, but Ella made to run down the hall. Bella grabbed her hand, leading her into the living room. Marcella climbed onto the couch, which was covered in clothes. "Yeesh, looks like Ford's cleanin' habits stuck with him.

"Mommy, Hun'er!" Ella requested, reaching for the bag.

"Alright, hold on," Bella said, digging through the bag. She pulled out a stuffed brown dog and handed it to the toddler. "There's Hunter. Now where could Fidds be?"

-----

Meanwhile, Stan and Ford were standing in the basement in front of a giant structure.

"There is nothing about this I understand," Stan said,

"It's a trans-universal gateway, a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension," Ford explained. "I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction. That's why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explained how to operate it. There's only one journal left. And you are the only person I can trust to take it." He handed a journal to Stan. The book was maroon and had a gold six-fingered hand cutout on the front. A black number 1 was in the center. "I have something to ask of you: you remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?" Stan brightened and smiled at his brother. "Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as you can! To the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!"

Ford stood facing the portal with his back to Stan. Stan frowned in devastation before growling angrily.

"That's it?!" He yelled. "You finally wanna see me after ten years, and it's to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?!"

"Stanley, you don't understand what I'm up against!" Ford cried. "What I've been through!"

"You know what, Ford?! I don't give a shit!" Stan argued. "In case you haven't noticed, I've got a family! I can't just up and move across the country because you want me to! Do you know how hard it is to have two toddlers in a car for two days?! You have no idea what I've been through! I've been to jail in three different countries! I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car! You think you've got problems? Me and Bella are livin' in a one-bedroom apartment, Stanford. With two kids! Meanwhile, where have you been? Living it up in your fancy house in the woods! Selfishly hoarding your college money, because you only care about yourself!"

"I'm selfish?" Ford repeated. "I'm selfish, Stanley? How can you say that after COSTING ME MY DREAM SCHOOL?! I'm giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won't even listen!"

"Well listen to this!" Stan yelled. "You want me to get rid of this book? Fine, I'll get rid of it right now!"

He pulled out a lighter and lit it under the journal.

"No!" Ford cried, grabbing the book and trying to tug it out of Stan's hands. "You don't understand!"

Stan shoved Ford away.

"You said you wanted me to have it so I'll do what I want with it!" Stan snapped.

"My research!" Ford shouted. He tackled Stan, making him drop the journal. He ran for it, but Stan grabbed his ankle and tripped him. Stan grabbed the journal and ran off with Ford chasing after him. "Stanley, give it back!"

They ran into the control room and Ford shoved his brother against a panel of buttons.

"You want it back, you're gonna have to try harder than that!" Stan yelled. The portal crackled into life in the other room, but neither of them noticed. Ford got hold of the journal and Stan tried to pull it away. "You let me behind, you jerk! It was supposed to us forever, you made my life hell for six years!"

"You made your own life hell!" Ford snapped back, kicking Stan into a burning symbol on the side of the control panel. Stan screamed in pain and let go of the journal as the symbol was branded onto his back. He fell to the floor when Ford moved his foot. Ford stood up in a panic. "Stanley! Oh my gosh I'm so sorry! Are you alr-"

Stan suddenly punched Ford, causing him to stumble backwards and trip over a lever in the floor.

"Some brother you turned out to be," Stan growled. "You care more about your dumb mysteries than your family? Well then YOU CAN HAVE 'EM!"

He shoved the journal into Ford's chest, and he began floating towards the portal.

"Woah woah, hey, w-what's going on?" Stan worried. "Stanford-"

"Stanley! Stanley, help me!" Ford cried, looking in terror back at the portal.

"Oh no, what do I do?!" Stan cried.

"Stanley! Stanley, do something!" Ford begged. "STANLEY!"

He threw the journal at Stan right before he disappeared into the portal. A flash of white light filled the room, and when it cleared, Stan was laying on the floor.

"Stanford?"

Ford's glasses clattered to the ground.

"Stanford, come back!" Stan yelled desperately, running to the portal. "I-I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" He slammed his fists on the side of the portal, but it only shut off. Stan panicked and tried pulling the lever back and forth, but nothing happened. "I just got him back! I can't lose him again! Ah, come on! STANFORD!"

The name echoed around the room.

#gravity falls #mullet stan #stanley pines #bella mccreary #stanford pines #ella pines #marcella pines #the ella twins #the portal incident

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ilovingcollectiongalaxy · 4 years

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If you’re here, odds are you’re tired of stashing your liquor and glassware in odd cabinets in your kitchen. Your finest bottles and family heirlooms deserve to be on display. You need a bar cart.

From a convenience perspective, if not for the aesthetics it adds to your home or apartment, a bar cart makes entertaining a breeze (without the commitment of a wet bar). When you’re putting the components together, though, it can be a little daunting. Some people want to keep everything streamlined, sticking to just one type of metal for barware; others want a more eclectic mix of glassware and accessories that look cohesive but not too forcibly matched.

Why You Should Be Drinking Aguardiente, Colombia’s National Liquor

At the end of the day, “The way to individualize a bar cart lies in how you style it, and what you keep stored on it,” says Elliott Clark of Apartment Bartender. “You might have only various whiskeys and rocks glass because that’s your go-to. Alternatively, you might have cocktail books, flowers, and bottles of champagne because that’s your bubbly cart.”

Ready to build your version of the perfect bar cart? From glassware to barware, bar carts to cabinets, books to booze, these are the elevated essentials you need to build a better bar cart. And in case you’re in need of some cocktail inspiration, here’s one of Clark’s favorites: the Cooper & Thief Winter Old Fashioned.

Ingredients:

1 oz Bourbon 1 oz Cognac VSOP ¼ oz Spiced Cooper & Thief Red Blend Wine Syrup* Dash of Angostura Bitters Dash of Orange Bitters

Instructions:

Combine all ingredients into a mixing glass and fill with ice. Stir to chill the cocktail, then strain into a rocks glass over ice. Garnish with a lemon twist. *For the Cooper & Thief Red Blend Wine Syrup: In a medium saucepan, combine 1 cup of Cooper & Thief Red Blend and 1 cup of sugar. For added spice, add in broken cinnamon sticks, all spice, star anise, and cloves. Bring to a light simmer, and gently stir to dissolve the sugar. Strain out the solid and store the syrup in a glass jar in the refrigerator. How Sweet It Isn’t: 3 Refined Cocktails That Hold the Simple Syrups

Choosing Your Vessel: To Bar Cart or Not to Bar Cart

A bar cart will always be a classic, stylized vessel to house your bottles and glassware. It lets you show off a crystal decanter and vintage rocks glasses, plus it makes entertaining a cinch because everything is organized in one space. (All the more so if your cart has wheels.) If you live in an apartment, opt for narrower models with multiple shelves for storage. Here are some of our favorite space-saving options:

Crate & Barrel Frye 2-Tier Bar Cart

Williams Sonoma Beckett Bar Cart

West Elm Tiered Bar Console

Sotheby's Home Art Deco Style Two-Tier Bar Cart

If you're a home owner, you get to play more with storage. Bar cabinets are great if you like the ability to conceal your liquor (especially if you have children) and keep your glassware from getting dusty. We like:

West Elm Mid-Century Bar Cabinet

Ballard Designs Harper Campaign Bar

Room & Board Coles Bar Cabinet

You can easily use existing pieces of furniture to store your bar essentials, too. Place bottles and glassware on decorative trays to keep everything orderly—not haphazardly placed. Get creative: Add shelves over a sideboard to store additional glasses and tools.

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Investing in Ice Molds

When you're hosting a party, it's tempting to grab a couple bags of ice from the neighboring bodega, but reserve those solely for topping off coolers and buckets. For cocktails, like an old fashioned, invest in a clear ice mold or maker. Crystal-clear ice spheres are aesthetically superior from everyday cubes made with tap water and a plastic tray, but they're a pain to make without some assistance. Usually you'd have to boil distilled water twice to remove impurities, but air bubbles tend to get stuck in the center and thwart translucency, which brings us to clear-ice makers.

Wintersmiths The Phantom Ice Maker: For guaranteed results, you can’t beat the patented technology from Wintersmiths. Their ice maker manipulates the freezing process to dissipate air bubbles and remove impurities before they’re frozen inside the cube or sphere. The end result is denser and slower to melt, diminishing dilution. The Phantom has the capacity to make seven 2.36" ice balls, six large 2" cubes, 16 standard 1.25" cubes, four 5" tall collins spears, and five diamond-like ice prisms (each shape-specific tray is sold for added cost). The Phantom Mini ($85) can make three 2.36" ice balls and three small 1.11" ice balls. Just fill the stainless steel container with regular tap water, then freeze for 24-48 hours. After, you'll peel off the silicone Shape Tray to reveal the flawless ice.

$140; wintersmiths.com

Rabbit Sphere Clear Ice Tray: If you're not worried about producing pristine, glass-like ice every time and, instead, want an affordable tray, this fits the bill. When determining ice size and shape, note a large sphere will melt slower than a large cube (Rabbit King Cube Ice Mold), and even more so than small cubes and uniform crushed ice (Rabbit Crushed Ice Mold). Of course certain cocktails thrive with specific kinds of ice: juleps, mules, and tiki drinks should get crushed ice; highball drinks (think gin and tonic) thrive with collins spears; and any spirit on the rocks should get a single large cube or sphere.

$30; rabbitwine.com

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Collecting Tools of the Trade

You can pick and choose what tools to stock up on based on how involved you want to get, Clark says. If you like uniformity—or just want to get the essentials in one fell swoop, nab a set.

Best sets:

Snowe Cocktail Shaker Set, $50, includes cobbler shaker, jigger, and bar spoon

Juliska Graham Bar Tool Set, $198, includes stand, bottle opener, strainer, bar spoon, double jigger, and muddler

If you want a more eclectic bar cart, play with metals and glass. Here are the individual items mandatory for cocktail mastery:

Boston Cocktail Shaker: Chubo Yukiwa Boston Shaker, $93

Cobbler Cocktail Shaker: Georg Jensen Sky Cocktail Shaker, $129

Hawthorne Strainer: Koriko Hawthorne Strainer, $15.99

Julep Strainer: Steelz Match Pewter Cocktail Strainer, $82

Citrus Juicer: Chef'n FreshForce Citrus Juicer, $25

Petty Knife: Sakai Takayuki Sugihara Damascus Petty 80mm (3.1"), $180

Fruit Peeler: Zwilling Pro Tools Y Peeler, $25

Bitters Bottle: CB2 Potion Glass Elixir Bottle, $12.95

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Stocking Your Cart: Spirits, Syrups, Salt, and More

"When stocking your home bar, it’s best to determine what your budget is and build initially on what you like to drink," Clark says. Of course, if you like to entertain, then it makes sense to buy a range of spirits, liqueurs, bitters, and syrups so you can make a multitude of cocktails. Here's the Men's Journal booze blueprint:

Spirits: bourbon (High West American Prairie Bourbon), rye whiskey (Tincup Rye), gin (Gray Whale Gin), reposado tequila (Viva XXXII Reposado Tequila), aged rum (Mount Gay Black Barrel), and vodka (Suntory Haku Vodka)

Liqueurs: Campari, Aperol, sweet vermouth (Martini & Rossi Riserva Speciale Rubino), dry vermouth (Dolin Dry Vermouth), triple sec (Cointreau)

Bitters: Angostura Bitters, Orange, Peychaud’s Aromatic Bitters, and chocolate bitters

Syrups: simple syrup and demerara syrup

Garnish: Saltverk Flaky Sea Salt, fresh herbs (mint, rosemary, etc.), and citrus (orange, lemon, lime, grapefruit)

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Getting the Right Glassware

You don't need every type of glass under the sun, Clark says, but it's a safe bet to have rocks/double rocks, coupe or martini, collins, and shot glasses whether you're enjoying a libation alone or with a crowd. If you're shopping online, "Cocktail Kingdom has really great glassware and Amazon is also a solid bet," Clark says. If you want to hunt around brick and mortar stores, try "Goodwill for really one-off, unique glassware," he adds. "You’d be surprised what you can find in there." Just be mindful that you want to avoid lead crystal glass, as it can leach into your drink.

Here are some of our top (lead-free) picks:

Rocks - Libbey Perfect Scotch Set, ($27.99; set of 4): The diamond-cut glass isn't just aesthetically striking, it provides an easy grip. These beauties are perfect for sipping Scotch neat—but they're also versatile enough for a multitude of cocktails. If you want double rocks, opt for the equally beautiful Libbey Hobstar Double Old Fashioned Glasses.

Coupe - Riedel Superleggero Coupe ($90; set of 1): The enlongated stem of this ultra-thin crystal coupe glass adds some added elegance to your champagne toasts.

Martini - Snowe Martini Glasses ($60; set of 4): These martini glasses look brilliant but don't cost an arm and a leg. We love the modern lines but that the stem isn't so dainty. It feels substantial in your hand and you won't be petrified of snapping it mid-toast or when you're cleaning up (they're dishwasher safe!).

Collins/Highball - Luigi Bormioli Classico Tall Beverage Glasses ($30): Classic and streamlined, this is an excellent go-to for vodka sodas and gin and tonics from a beloved Italian-made brand.

Shot - Food52 Hammered Copper Shot Cups ($45): These hammered copper shot cups have enough visual intrigue to jazz up a bar cart without clashing with more traditional barware.

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Find Your Cocktail Bible

Cocktail books aren't like coffee table books, where you want something sharp for show. You want to find manuals that offer plenty of recipes, how-tos, and advice. "Both of the Death & Co. books: Modern Classics and Cocktail Codex are personal go-tos," says Clark. We also like Meehan's Bartender Manual. All are James Beard Award-winning guides for building for own bar. They comprise loads of recipes and tips for leveling up your cocktails.

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The post The Essentials You Need to Build a Better Bar Cart appeared first on Men's Journal.

from Men's Journal Latest Food & Drink News https://ift.tt/2HHJmkT

#Health and Fitness News #Blogger

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instantdeerlover · 4 years

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11 Great Bagels To Try Right Now added to Google Docs

11 Great Bagels To Try Right Now

Unlike New York, the Bay Area isn’t exactly known for its bagel scene. But any local bagel enthusiast will tell you that soft, chewy, golden-brown bagels aren’t too difficult to find - you just have to know where to look. Here are 11 great bagel spots in SF and the East Bay to check out.

THE SPOTS Julia Chen Beauty's Bagel Shop $ $ $ $ Bagels in Temescal $$$$ 3838 Telegraph Ave

Beauty’s in Oakland made excellent wood-fired bagels, but since joining forces with Wise Sons, they’ve shifted to kettle boiling their bagels. The new versions are less chewy than we remember, and better when toasted, but they’re still some of the best in the East Bay. Their menu has also changed to include Wise Sons classics, like pastrami and latkes. But don’t worry, you can still get Beauty’s great lox or the fried chicken bagel sandwiches, every day from 7am-3pm at their Temescal location only.

Frankie Frankeny Daily Driver $ $ $ $ American , Sandwiches , Bagels in Dogpatch $$$$ 2535 3rd Street

The wood-fired bagels at Daily Driver are some of the best in San Francisco. They have a chewy interior and a thin, crackly crust that’s even better toasted. Get one in sandwich form with bacon, egg, and cheese, or with pastrami (if you’re willing to shell out $15). You can pick up their bagels and sandwiches at several locations in the city: their brick-and-mortar spots in Dogpatch and the Ferry Building, their kiosk in Hayes Valley, and, more recently, at Mission Cheese.

Julia Chen Boichik Bagels $$$$ 3170 College Ave

We’ve eaten a lot of bagels, and Boichik Bagels in Berkeley makes some of our favorites, ever. They have a satisfying, crunchy crust, and are always perfectly springy on the inside. Yes, they’re smaller, and are slightly more expensive than other places ($3 each) - but they’re worth it. You can also top them with lox and tubs of whipped cream cheese, or whitefish, egg, or salmon salad. Order on their website for pick-up or delivery, or walk up to order.

Julia Chen The Bagel Bakery $$$$ 151 Townsend St

The Bagel Bakery in China Basin has been turning out fresh New York-style bagels since 1976. You can get them by the dozen, but the real move is to order their veggie bagel sandwich. It comes with cream cheese, cucumber, tomato, onion, and a slightly sweet balsamic dressing. We like it better without lettuce.

Julia Chen House Of Bagels $$$$ 5030 Geary Blvd

This Jewish deli has been around since the ’60s, and it’s a Geary Blvd. institution. They sell pastries (there’s hamantaschen year-round) and challah, but you’re here for their great selection of New York-style bagels that are baked fresh daily. House of Bagels isn’t toasting bagels or making sandwiches to-go right now, so on a recent visit, we ordered one and toasted it at home. The everything seasoning was on the lighter side, but it was still salty and flavorful.

Julia Chen Saul's Restaurant & Deli $$$$ 1475 Shattuck Ave

Saul’s recently started boiling and baking their own bagels in-house. If you want them when they’re warm and fresh out of the oven, order when Saul’s opens at 11:30am. The bagels are soft, chewy, and moist, and have a golden-brown crust. Don’t be surprised when you eat at least two out of the bag on the way home. Currently, Saul’s is making five types of bagels: plain, everything, sesame, poppyseed, and onion. Note the cap of six bagels per order.

Julia Chen Holey Bagel $$$$ 3872 24th St

If you’re someone who likes bagel flavors that go beyond the classic sesame, plain, or everything, head to Holey Bagel. They make spinach, sun-dried tomato, and chocolate chip bagels, to name a few. We especially love them with their house-made chive cream cheese, or as a fluffy egg sandwich.

Krescent Carasso 20th Century Cafe $ $ $ $ Cafe/Bakery in Hayes Valley $$$$ 198 Gough St

This Hayes Valley cafe used to be one of our favorite places to spend a late morning over pierogies and bagels. But right now, the European-inspired spot is only open Fridays and Saturdays. Make sure to pencil these dates into your calendar now - their bagel sandwich with buttery lox and pickled shallots is worth the effort. Order by noon on Thursday or Friday to schedule a pick-up.

Julia Chen Noe Bagel $$$$ 3933 24th St

If you’re looking for a quick breakfast spot, and you’re near Noe Valley, head to Noe Bagel. They make a delicious bacon, egg, and cheese bagel sandwich, and at $5.95, it’s a great deal, especially considering how filling it is. You can also get bagels by the dozen, if you want to stock your freezer with something other than half-opened bags of frozen fruit.

Julia Chen Uncle Benny's Donut & Bagel $$$$ 2049 Irving St

This spot in the Sunset has breakfast down to a science. They have cases full of colorful, pillowy donuts, pastries, and great bagel sandwiches, like veggie, lox, or sausage, egg, and cheese. The creamy, salty lox schmear is a standout, and one you should definitely wash down with a Vietnamese iced coffee.

Julia Chen Wise Sons Jewish Delicatessen $ $ $ $ Deli in Mission $$$$ 3150 24th St.

Wise Sons gets bonus points for covering their entire bagels with seasoning, something we wish more bagel spots did. The bagels are on the denser side, but still have a solid chew to them. They’re currently offering two DIY bagel kits: the lox sandwich (it comes with four bagels, lox, schmear, and toppings), and the bodega egg and cheese sandwich (comes with six bagels, and their house-made crispy pastrami). Wise Sons is open for pick-up at their Hayes Valley, Mission, and Fillmore locations, and at the Contemporary Jewish Museum.

via The Infatuation Feed https://www.theinfatuation.com/san-francisco/guides/best-bagels-san-francisco-oakland-berkeley Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://trello.com/userhuongsen

Created August 22, 2020 at 04:42AM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF

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instantdeerlover · 4 years

Text

10 Great Bagels To Try Right Now added to Google Docs

10 Great Bagels To Try Right Now

The Bay Area isn’t exactly known for its bagel scene - but any local bagel enthusiast will tell you that soft, chewy, golden-brown bagels aren’t too difficult to find. You just have to know where to look. Our absolute favorites are from Beauty’s Bagel Shop in Oakland. But since they’re closed for now, here are 10 other great bagel spots to check out.

THE SPOTS Julia Chen Boichik Bagels $$$$ 3170 College Ave

Julia Chen The Bagel Bakery $$$$ 151 Townsend St

Frankie Frankeny Daily Driver $ $ $ $ American , Sandwiches , Bagels in Dogpatch $$$$ 2535 3rd Street

Julia Chen House Of Bagels $$$$ 5030 Geary Blvd

Julia Chen Saul's Restaurant & Deli $$$$ 1475 Shattuck Ave

Julia Chen Holey Bagel $$$$ 3872 24th St

Krescent Carasso 20th Century Cafe $ $ $ $ Cafe/Bakery in Hayes Valley $$$$ 198 Gough St

This Hayes Valley cafe used to be one of our favorite place to spend a late morning over pierogies and bagels. But right now, the European-inspired spot is only open Fridays and Saturdays. Make sure to pencil these dates into your calendar now - their bagel sandwich with buttery lox and pickled shallots is worth the effort. Order by noon on Thursday or Friday to schedule a pick-up.

Julia Chen Noe Bagel $$$$ 3933 24th St

Julia Chen Uncle Benny's Donut & Bagel $$$$ 2049 Irving St

Julia Chen Wise Sons Jewish Delicatessen $ $ $ $ Deli in Mission $$$$ 3150 24th St.

Created July 30, 2020 at 12:42AM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF

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