this one is childs play v3 charted which is the first time I coded a sprite the sprites are gumball and bf
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1171658748/
this a chart that I coded with a chart I made from scratch its brotherly love cries first take (the chart is bad tho)
supposed to be Jake and pibby but the sprites arnt added as of now
Note: Please enjoy. As always, thank you for reading.
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***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
***Interactive***
Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} |
~~~~~~~
When one stayed in a hotel far away from home, they often looked forward to waking up naturally. Very slowly, and very naturally.
That was not how you woke up. that was too much to ask for. Instead of waking to the gentle tweets of birds or even the warmth of the sun on your skin, you woke up to “I Wanna Rock” blaring from your phone at full volume. Leaping up your arms and legs flapped in the air sending your sheets flying off the bed.
“Ah!”
you looked around the room not quite sure what was happening or what time it was. It sounded like a 2000’s house party. Once the part about poppin’ pussy came on, you quickly grabbed your phone and groaned when you saw the title of the alarm.
Pop That Pussy O'clock.
Groaning again you dropped onto the bed.
“Eve!”
She was damn lucky she was your best friend and even luckier that you liked this song. You found the alarm track then let it continue as you jumped up on your bed and began dancing shaking your ass everywhere and not giving not one fuck.
“Doo Doo Brown! Pop that pussy, pop pop that pussy baby. Pop pop pop that pussy!”
When you jumped off the bed you bent over and touched the floor.
“Heeey we want some D-I-C-K. Heeey we want some D-I-C-K!”
You barely heard the sound of banging at the door over the music. Without thinking you hurried to it and yanked it open just as the track was shouting yet another “Hey we want some D-I-C-K.” Lo and behold there stood Chris with his hand still raised prepped to knock again with eyes wide open. It took a few moments for everything to register together but when it did you screamed and ran back into your room searching for your phone. It took a lot longer than you’d wanted and by the time you found it on the floor half under the bed you were on your knees with your ass in the air pointing toward the door where he stood.
When silence returned to the room, you tried to quell the embarrassment that was quickly filling you. You took a few moments to talk to yourself about your options. He’d seen and heard so much. Slowly, you glanced back over your shoulder and there he was leaned on the doorframe with his arms crossed and an amused smirk etched on his lips.
“Oh god,” you whispered.
You stood and realized you wore one of your oversized t-shirts that had holes and stains on it and more embarrassment filled in. Dropping your head back, you sighed and cursed the universe then walked back over to the door.
“Em, yes? Can I help you?”
“I can help you with that.”
“With what?”
He nodded his head to your phone in your hands. It took a few seconds for you to understand.
“You know the hey we want some--,” he began.
“Ahh! No. no no, it was a song.”
“I had no idea such a dirty song existed,” Chris said.
“I mean it’s no different from your people’s Closer by the Nine Inch Nails,” you quickly and dryly replied.
“My people’s?”
You smirked and gave him the once over then nodded. “Yep. Anyway, what brings you by?”
“I was sent on a mission to deliver a message. Eve says you’re late.”
Quirking your brows you unlocked your phone and saw eight messages from Eve and the calendar alert for just what you were late for.
“Shit, shit. I’m late!”
You quickly ran off then came back to shut the door with him still standing there. Just before the door closed you heard his last comment.
“Nice shirt.”
You wanted to dive on the bed and bury your head under the pillows. This was the second time you’d embarrassed yourself in front of that man. The second damn time. As you took a quick shower you replayed the exchange and found even more reasons to be embarrassed. He’d seen you dressed in one of your least attractive items, heard part of your taste in music, heard you shouting you wanted dick, then saw you with your ass in the air.
“Jesus H Christ!”
~~~~~~~~
Fifteen minutes later you rushed into the dining hall where breakfast was to be but found it empty.
“Shit!”
“Is everything okay ma’am?”
“Uh—yes—no. I’m looking for the uh Gordon-Wessington party.”
“Ms. Y/N?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“They are gathering outside to the right where the excursion vans are. They are waiting for you.”
You took off shouting your thank you as you ran. You normally weren't someone who arrived late wherever you went this was just a two-time thing. Making a mental note to not let it happen again you hurried to the group of over seventy-five heads. Rather than announcing your arrival, you mixed in with the group while trying to hide from Eve.
“Where is Y/N? is she here yet?”
“Huh? What? I’ve been here. See, present.” You raised your hand as everyone looked at you. just behind you, you heard a loud obnoxious snort. Sure enough, when you turned there Chris was—again.
“Are we ready to take off?”
“Yes,” Eve replied holding tightly to her man.
The man who looked like he worked for the hotel began giving an overview of the excursion as well as explaining what to expect. After a quick five or so minute speech, everyone began loading onto the three greyhound-style buses parked there. Before you made any move to choose a bus for yourself, Eve grabbed your arm and looped hers with yours.
“How was pop that pussy o’clock?”
You screeched. “Eve!”
Her evil laugh was so loud it brought several eyes to the two of you, including Chris’s.
“Pop that pussy o’clock went off without a hitch,” Chris teased before he climbed onto the bus.
Eve looked at you like she wanted an explanation but you refused to give her one. It was her fault you’d embarrassed yourself this morning. Giving Eve your prissy attitude you climbed on the bus too. Luckily there was a wide open seat in front and that was what you took. A few seconds after you sat, Eve and Parker got on the bus and stood in the front.
“Y/N. There are no more seats.”
“Of course there are. There is one here and--,” you did a quick scan and saw the open seat beside Chris across the aisle. “One there.”
“So you want me to sit without my soon-to-be wife?”
Your eyes landed on Parker. He wasn’t serious.
“Come on, Y/N, let the lovebirds sit together,” shouted Capri.
“And where do I sit?”
“As the maid of honor I think it’s fully appropriate for you to sit next to the best man,” Parker added.
You bugged your eyes. This was sabotage, you thought to yourself, and looking at Eve’s wide smile confirmed it. The two of them deserved each other. Everyone on the bus began to agree one behind the other and once that began it was impossible to protest. Sighing you gathered your things then walked across to Chris who was already sitting in the aisle seat with headphones on, no doubt pretending not to have heard anything. He was not slick. You knew he heard it all.
“Ehm.”
Nothing.
“Eh-eh-em!”
Chris turned to you and with an innocent expression. This fucker, you thought. He was enjoying fucking with you. You pointed to the window seat and smiled sweetly. He turned his long legs to the aisle giving you room to slide in. As you passed you heard him speak.
“You’re lucky you’re as beautiful as you are.”
Pausing you glanced back at him, half thinking you’d imagined it but half knowing you hadn’t, but he wasn’t looking at you. Ignoring it, you sat and prepared yourself for the journey.
The drive to the winery was not a long one. even if it had been you wouldn’t have minded, the scenery was so beautiful. As the bus drove you snapped pictures like a tourist and filtered them prepping them to post that night. The whole thirty-minute drive you nor Chris spoke to one another. You did your best to ignore your anxieties about what he possibly thought about you now after this morning and for the most part, you were successful. There were times when he was just too hard to ignore.
The entire time his scent bombarded you. It was a very pleasant scent and you thought you knew the designer fragrance but wondered if it was au natural. Those thoughts had you wondering what he smelled like sweaty as he hovered over you. That was when you audibly hissed. That brought his eyes to you but still, he kept quiet.
As the buses rolled into the winery and everyone began filing off of them, a notification came in.
*Incoming device beam*
“Device beam?”
Someone was beaming something to your phone. You looked around to see if you could tell who it was but no one looked to be the culprit. You accepted the beam and seconds later the screen of your phone shone the cover of a musical album by the artist Nine Inch Nails. That was all you needed to know who it was from. You looked up and saw Chris’s back to you as he chatted with some of the wedding party. A message rolled across your screen.
MSG: Cute. Not half bad. I like yours better.
Your jaw slowly dropped. He was a taunter. It was confirmed. You suspected this was just the beginning of his taunting though. You’d have to toughen up there were still nine days to go.
~~~~
The scent of ripened grapes was everywhere. For miles, all the eye could see was row after row of grapes. According to the manager, you’d come at the right time. They’d just begun harvesting and prep for wine. Eve had the right idea—day drinking. As the manager spoke about the vineyard and its history you scrolled through Instagram. Another alert came in, this one notifying you of four likes, and a comment. Tapping it, you opened up one of the pictures you’d just taken on the bus. This one was of you in the frame smiling while pointing out the window at the lush green landscape.
The most recent comment was him again—Damian.
@Y/NInTheClouds your smile will always be the best thing to wake up to.
You gulped down the lump that had suddenly formed. Was he crazy? why was he suddenly being so nostalgic, underneath your pictures even? Didn’t he leave you? Wasn’t he the one that said, you were unlovable and cold? Just as you were going to tap his profile picture to open up a DM you heard a voice beside you. when you looked, it was Chris.
The way he stood there with the sunlight and a tall vine of grapes just behind him made you think he could have been Dionysus himself. All he needed was the toga. With that thought, your eyes skimmed his frame and pictured it. A toga was the right choice if your imagination was correct. His hair while neat wasn’t as coiffed as it was last night, it looked like he’d used no product, which made it looks soft and fluffy The stray piece that infiltrated his forehead made you want to touch.
“Are you heatstroked?”
Chris slapped the back of his hand to your forehead, startling you. Staggering backward a few steps, you gave him a puzzled look.
“What? No.”
“Are you sure? Drooling is a sign of heatstroke,” Chris enlightened.
“Drooling. Whose drooling?”
He then nudged toward you. Feeling wetness just below your bottom lip, you touched it and sure enough, there was drool. Groaning, you quickly turned your back to him.
“I can’t believe this,” you whispered. The universe was not letting up. You had to find a way to keep your distance from him or else your pride, dignity, and self-respect would be gone once Eve and Parker jumped the broom.
“Gotta go, see you later,” you rushed out as you scurried away ignoring what he was trying to say.
Five minutes later, you were on one of the provided bikes that looked like they’d be taken right from either a Martha Stewart or Country Living magazine, riding through the vineyard. In true Eve fashion, before you could be rewarded with wine, you had to work for it. that work was in the form of the scavenger hunt. In the basket of the bike was a clipboard that had not five but fifteen items to find on the vineyard that was over seven acres. Eve had officially crossed over to doing too much.
When you’d signed on for maid of honor she didn’t mention a thing about all the duties you’d have to perform or the fact that you couldn’t say no to her requests. That you’d learned and she was constantly reminding you that no was a word you couldn’t say to her until she was Mrs. Wessington. It was your fault. You’d said anything she wanted or needed you’d be there for. She was only collecting.
You sighed, tipped your head back, and relished in the feel of the sun warming your skin. It was a beautiful day. You decided rather than dwelling on and wallowing in your embarrassments thus far you’d enjoy it. one or two moments didn’t define your existence. Just when you’d pep talked yourself you heard someone shouting.
On your left, eyes open!”
Nerves overtook you and those nerves had you panic. You only had your eyes open for a fraction of a second before you saw Chris riding toward you looking like he was going to collide with you. In seconds you’d wobbled off the path and fallen right onto your ass. By the time you opened your eyes again, you were somehow in someone’s arms. You looked up and again, there was Chris. His lips were moving but there was no sound, however, there sure was a heavenly hymn playing from somewhere.
“Are you okay?”
As your hearing came back so did your sense of feeling and something cool and heavy was resting on your forehead. Flailing your body, you shrugged it off as well as Chris.
“My god.”
“What?”
“There was something cold on my forehead. It felt like balls,” you said in true you who spoke without thinking eighty percent of the time.
Chris snorted then laughed.
“Balls. I take it you’ve had balls on your forehead before.”
Glancing at him you saw the amusement in his eyes. Sighing, you replied, “No comment.”
Again he snorted then chuckled, “You become more and more interesting.”
You began getting up then felt Chris’s arms around your waist helping you stand. Once standing, you dusted off your clothes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to fall. Your eyes were closed.”
“Are you following me?”
Chris scoffed. “No. it just—happened this way. Plus I’m just following the directions of the game.”
“What directions?”
Chris held up the same clipboard you had and pointed to a bulleted sentence.
Partnered groups of two to four.
“Okay. What does that have to do with me?”
Chris pointed to another bulleted sentence.
Partners and group names are in the envelope attached.
Chris lifted his envelope and slowly pulled out a slip of paper with your name on it. Your jaw dropped.
“I don’t--.”
You scanned the ground looking for your clipboard. When you found it you located the envelope and looked inside. Chris’s name was clearly visible.
“Eve!”
When you turned back to Chris he had a “told you so” expectant look on his face.
“Well—what she doesn't know won’t hurt her. You go that way and focus on these seven and I'll go this way and do the remaining eight.
Chris pointed to another sentence.
Partners and groups must stick together throughout the duration of the hunt.
Scoffing you rolled your eyes. She sure was through.
“What about we say we stuck together?”
Chris pointed to the final sentence.
No cheating. Those who have broken the rules will be disqualified.
“Oh come on!
“I’ve never been disqualified from anything in my entire life. Come on”
Chris walked away leaving you standing there.
“Come on. You’re an adult, this isn’t a real thing.”
“It is real enough. Plus I am a competitive person,” Chris finished.
You rolled your eyes, sighed then grabbed the bike and followed him. Your fate was sealed.
Thirty minutes of silence followed as you rode just behind Chris on your path to finding the fourth item on the list. Neither of you had spoken. He didn’t look very friendly at the moment. You wondered if you’d offended him with how you’d tried to get out of partnering with him.
“I see the yellow grapes,” Chris announced, hopping off his bike and stalking through the vines.
When he returned he held a large bunch of yellow grapes.
“Eleven more to go.”
Again you were off on the hunt. Over the next fifteen minutes, you’d found three more items and were now on your hands and knees crawling through a path to find yet another.
“See. I’m not so bad. We actually made a pretty great team,” Chris said.
You scoffed and kept your eyes down rather than looking at him.
“I never said you were bad,” you said under your breath.
“Then why does it seem like you think that every time you see me?”
You kinda felt like an asshole now. You hadn’t meant to make him feel like that. You didn’t even realize your awkwardness about being around him was taken as something else by him.
“I don’t it’s just--.”
“Just what?”
You didn’t speak, you didn’t have the words.
“What because you said some embarrassing things? So what? Who hasn’t said their share of humiliating things? I know I have. I remember in an interview once I’d left my filter at home and the interviewer asked me if I wanted to be a daddy. I actually said without missing a beat, yeah I do wanna be a daddy, I wanna be a daddy to two people my kids and my wife.”
Your head snapped to him.
“You didn’t say that.
“I did and it was on camera. People can go to YouTube and see this. I have never been able to live that down.”
Unable to help yourself you laughed out loud.
“Nice, laugh at my pain. okay. I’ll just---sit here and wait.”
He sat in the dirt with his arms hugging his legs and waited. For some reason, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. The more you tried the more you laughed.
“Wow. You’re really laughing.”
You pinched your lips and cleared your throat.
“Sorry. I’m trying not to. I—I think I remember that. So funny.”
“Yeah. I had to push it to the side and keep going and never bring it up again,” he said.
“Can you never bring up what I said?”
“What makes you think I even remember?”
Hope filled you. “You forgot it?”
“Of course not. When a woman panic shouts at you that she can’t suck a dick to save her life that tends to stick with you. It should stick with you.”
You face-palmed and groaned. It was his turn to laugh.
“Oh god. So embarrassing.”
“What the fact that you think you give bad head, or the fact that you told me you think you give back head or what I think about the fact that you think you give bad head?”
“All of it! All the discussion about me giving head.”
“Why do you think you give bad head? It’s not a universal cut and dry critique among men.”
“Wow. Nope! Not doing this.”
You quickly shot up and walked off using the excuse of looking for the item when really you had to cease and desist this conversational topic. You could not sit there and talk about your head game with Chris Evans. You were way too sober for that but your curiosity had been piqued.
By the time you and Chris made it back where you started with all items in the baskets of your bikes, you were shocked to see you were the only team that had found all items. Everyone else had missed some or gave up. Eve declared you two the winners and presented you with your prize with was a gourmet four-course dinner at Appelbaum a Michelin Star rated restaurant in the nearby town. It was a prize you weren’t mad at. Who would be mad at free food—free gourmet food nonetheless?
~~~~~~~
An hour or two after noon you and all the other guests were sitting enjoying some wine, grapes, and cheese underneath a very picturesque gazebo with breathtaking views of the hills. The Berkshires were beautiful and were said to be one of the most romantic places to have a weekend getaway. You saw why. As you set up your wine glass next to some cheese and fruit prepping for the impromptu photoshoot you were about to have, you let yourself mentally move away from the conversation of the group.
After snapping a few pictures, Chris sat down in the frame of the picture just in time for it to capture him. He didn’t look at you though, his attention was on the horizon. Your camera that was on timed mode continued to snap pictures all with him in the frame and every picture that was taken made him look like some male model agencies would pay top dollar for. You didn’t even realize you were sitting there staring at the man through your phone lens, not even when he turned and seemingly looked right at you.
You watched him raise the wine glass to his lips and sip then swallow. The way his Adam's apple bobbed made goosebumps erupt across your skin. It was an unexpected reaction and even more unexpected was you thought of what the part of his throat tasted like.
“Y/N!”
“Huh! I wasn’t thinking anything!”
Everyone around chuckled.
“I didn’t say you were. What were you thinking?”
You avoided the eyes and looked in your phone shaking your head. “Nothing. Blank mind.”
“You and Eve grew up together and we swore you would both get married on the dame day so we’re shocked this isn’t a joint thing. That makes us wonder when will you get married? You’re not getting any younger,” Mrs. Gordon said.
Wow, you thought. She’d pulled the age card and put you on the spot.
“Uh---married? Well—marriage isn’t for everyone. We’re not all as lucky as Eve to have found the one.”
Eve squealed then hugged closer to Parker. “I did, huh.”
“You have to date to find the one,” Angela slid in making you widen your eyes at her gall.
“Wow,” you whispered.
“That’s not good honey,” Mrs. Gordon continued. “You have to meet people. Sometimes you have to kiss a lot of frogs before one transforms. The worst thing in the world is being alone on your deathbed. Having a partner, someone to share your highs and lean on during your lows can make all the difference in this rat race.”
You gave Eve the eye because somehow this had turned into a give Y/N life and love lessons session. Eve opened her mouth to speak but the voice that spoke up was not hers.
“Good advice Mrs. Gordon but remember we all assess what’s right for our lives based on our values and experiences. We’re always changing as humans and I for one am glad for it. My mom always said life isn’t a race of who can get what done first or reach a stage first or at all even. Life is for living the way you see fit. Who’s to say Y/N isn’t living her life as she sees fit and is perfectly happy doing it. What’s good for one isn’t necessarily good for two.”
As he spoke you didn’t take your eyes off of him. He’d just spoken up for you—a stranger. He didn’t know a thing about your life yet he made you seem levelheaded. Chris looked at you and gave you a small reassuring smile.
“Chris is right mom,” Eve said a little late.
“Spoken like a single and unmarried man,” Mr. Gordon breeched.
Chris smirked. “Ya’ got me there sir. I am single and unmarried with no prospects in sight.”
You pinched your lips at his olden times reference.
“Are you too good for marriage too?”
“Not at all sir, it’s just no woman wants to marry me,” he said with a chuckle.
“Well, it’s a wedding. Plenty of eligible bachelorettes. Take Y/N for example.”
“Oh god,” you whispered using one hand to cover your face and the other to guzzle down your wine.
“I think I should have gone with the longer train mom. i took a walk where the ceremony will be and I don’t know now. What do you think?”
Falling into Eve’s trap, Mrs. Gordon’s attention shifted to her giving you some much needed breathing room. Realizing your glass was empty you grabbed the bottle off the table and filled your glass to the top. Chris lifted his glass to you.
“It’s not a wedding until the boomers comment about your life choices.”
A small smile spread across your face.
“Oh and make you face the unavoidable fact that you’ve been avoiding pretty well for months or even years and make you question your entire worth,” Chris finished before he raised his glass to you then downed the rest of its contents.
You stared at him and got the feeling he wasn’t being fully amusing anymore. There was sarcasm as well as mockery. It gave off a feeling that an insecurity was triggered and that piqued your curiosity even more.
402 Bimota SB3's were made and you can see one on the shop floor of @retromoto.co . . #bimota #SB3 #bimotaSB3 #motorcycle (at Retro Moto Co) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9IrbsHhftG/?igshid=3t50k38efcy9
In a shameful move today, the Texas Senate voted to approve Senate Bill 3, a terrible piece of anti-LGBTQ legislation targeting transgender Texans for discrimination. Learn more about this disaster of a bill, share to speak out against this: http://bit.ly/2uzoXHC
So earlier in the year, I signed up for the @slowburnbigbang (SB3), aiming to, over the course of a year, write a 100k fic. I had initially planned to write that Regency P&P continuation I keep alluding to, but a month or so in, I had a massive brainwave, and switched focus to a HP nextgen epic that has been percolating about my mind for literally years.
Now the problem with this is that my nextgen epic focuses on the lives of everyone, picking up about a decade after 19 Years Later, and was probably flirting a bit with not having the romance be the central concern of the story. Insofar as there was going to be, among other things, at least one chapter devoted to Viktor Krum’s tell-all memoirs, and the significant section devoted to Hermione. So I went to the dreamwidth account to reacquaint myself with what was and wasn’t allowed.
And it turned out that THE CENTRAL PREMISE OF MY FIC fell foul of their definition of ‘slow burn’. Because you see, this fic was going to be the replacement of that Rose/Scorpius fic I started back in 2009 (PRE-CURSED CHILD, DON’T @ ME), and never finished, vowing to rewrite and republish; and then deciding instead to skip the initial fic in general, and instead start the narrative four years after they break up halfway through seventh year. This was to be the starting point for a DELUGE OF TORTURED ANGST before an eventual resolution.
Only according to the rules of the Bang, there could be “no formally agreed upon romantic history” between the central characters. Which is a SIGNIFICANT SPANNER IN THE WORKS.
So having switched my intended fic from the P&P continuation to the HP nextgen, I’m switching right back, because even though I have the vast majority of the world-building done for the HP, and very little for the Regency fic because I deliberately shelved it for the time being, I’M SWITCHING THE FOCUS RIGHT BACK, because the P&P continuation at least actually sticks within the given conception of slow burn.
This is unlikely to take time away from my sporadic updates of Politics and Profanity and An Evening, because those updates are constrained more by inspiration than by time. So fret not on that account. The fic is due at the end of June 2018, and can only be hosted on the designated SB3 website for the first month, before we’re allowed to post it to our writing accounts of choice, but expect ranting and some excerpts in the meantime as I get to writing it.
But all my ranting aside, here’s the opening of the fic, which, I think, really sets the tone.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young woman, rapidly approaching spinsterhood, begins to despair of ever finding a husband. This ill effect is increased by extenuating circumstances such as being the least pretty of a brood of five girl-children, and the absolute dearth of suitors throughout the entirety of one's existence.
Miss Mary Bennet of Longbourne in Hertfordshire had thoroughly inured herself to these truths, but that didn't make her situation any less vexing. Especially when her youngest sister Lydia showed up and insisted on referring to herself in the third person as 'Mrs Wickham'.
