#it only lasted three weeks they barely knew each other but somehow they also knew each other too well

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

warnings: asshole!steve, explicit language, mentions of alcohol

summary: somehow your life becomes equivalent to a friday the 13th type of horror movie. there's no serial killer or any murders happening, but the day is full of so many problems that it feels like you'll never get out of this shitstorm

CHAPTER TWO | ❝𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒆❞

It had to have been because of something you’d done in a past life. Perhaps you were a murderer or committed other horrific crimes. 

In your head, that was the only thing that could explain why today had been the shittiest and most hectic day you’d probably ever had. And even though you were only halfway through this godforsaken Friday, you knew that nothing would ever be able to top it. 

You were hit with issue after issue, and when you solved one thing it seemed as if three more popped up. It felt like a fucked up game of whack-a-mole. 

And just when you thought you could finally have somewhat of a breather, you were bombarded by a production intern bawling her eyes out. She had made a mistake earlier that day that she was still feeling pretty emotional about; she put the wrong time on the call sheet for Monday and printed and handed out copies with the typo. It wasn’t that big of a deal or the most detrimental mistake that could’ve been made— in fact, with one quick announcement and some reprints the problem had been fixed— but you could understand why she was upset about it. 

“It’s okay, alright? Please stop crying, Hannah.”

“I’m sorry,” She said with a sniffle. “I just really wanna do a good job and I know I haven't been, and I really don’t wanna get fired.”

You were about to reassure her once again but you were interrupted by a PA tapping your shoulder to grab your attention. 

“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I have Steve’s lunch order that you asked me to pick up,” He said. 

“No, no, you’re fine. Thank you so much,” You said, actually completely thankful for the interruption. You grabbed the outstretched bag from him and then looked at Hannah again. “You only made one mistake. I promise it’s okay, and you’re not getting fired.” 

She nodded and you gave her one more reassuring smile before you rushed off in the direction of Steve’s trailer, quickly glancing through the bag to make sure that the order was right as you sped walked to the completely other side of the set. 

“You’re late,” Was the first thing he said to you when he opened the door. 

You briefly glanced down at your watch; 12:05pm. You were only five stupid minutes late, but of course he was annoyed at you. “The day has been really hectic and–”

He shook his head at you before you could finish. “I don’t really care.”

There was a lot you wanted to respond back with, but you held it back.

“Got it,” You said instead as you handed him his food and started walking away before he could close the door in your face. 

It had only been two weeks since filming started and it was pretty clear that neither of you liked each other. He definitely didn’t like you, for reasons that you assumed were because he didn’t like anyone and he was somehow physically incapable of being nice. And in return, you decided to just not like him back because you couldn’t care enough to do anything to try and make him like you. Mainly because trying to do so felt like an impossible feat in itself, and also because you quickly came to the decision that he didn’t deserve your genuine niceness. 

Barely a minute after you’d walked away from Steve’s trailer, you were summoned by the lighting department to help handle an issue they were having. It truly seemed as if you would never get a break. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Way too many hours, and a shit ton of more problems to fix later, you were finally home. And after the longest shower ever, you were sitting on the couch in your living room, a bowl of freshly popped popcorn on your coffee table in front of you next to a bottle of wine that was moments away from being opened. 

Your plan was to watch the worst reality TV show you could find and laugh at it until you fell asleep, and you knew that because of how exhausted you were from the day it would probably happen within the hour. And you didn’t even feel the tiniest bit embarrassed that you’d be going to bed before ten o’clock on a Friday night. 

You were only a few minutes into a show called Love on the Mountain and hadn’t even poured your first glass of wine before your phone started ringing. 

A part of you truly wanted to ignore the call because you could only assume that it was work related, and you wanted to hope that whatever it was about could wait until tomorrow, or hopefully even Monday. But, of course, the part of you that could almost never turn your work brain off needed to look at who was calling. 

You regretted it almost immediately when you saw Steve’s name lighting up your screen.  

You wondered why he could possibly be calling you right then, and then as if the universe was simultaneously screaming and laughing at you, you looked around and your eyes immediately landed on the big yellow envelope that contained the script rewrites Steve needed to have sticking out of your tote bag that was sitting on your small dining room table that at most times doubled as a work desk. 

Fuck.

You were supposed to give the script rewrites to him, or at least put them in his trailer before you left for the day, because they were for all of the scenes that were filming on Monday, but it had completely slipped your mind. 

You answered the phone and then shut your eyes. “Sorry, I already know you’re calling about the script rewrites. It completely slipped my mind. When do you want me to give them to you?”

“I would’ve really liked them hours ago,” He said, the annoyance unsurprisingly very clear in his tone.

This was the only time you could actually understand him being annoyed at you, but hearing how pissed he sounded still managed to piss you off just the same. 

You inwardly let out a long breath. “I can bring them now.” 

He didn’t say anything in response to that, and instead hung up. Barely a minute later, your phone pinged with a text from him that was simply his address. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When you walked into Steve’s apartment building, you were met with the sight of a man standing behind a front desk. It was always easy to tell that you were at an expensive apartment building in LA when the lobby felt eerily similar to a hotel. Your building didn’t even have a lobby; there was just a hallway that led to some insanely small elevators. 

You gave a small wave to the man and then showed the yellow envelope. “Hi, I have this for Steve Harrington.”

The front desk man, whose name tag read James, nodded at you. “Yes, he told me to expect someone coming to bring something for him. You can go right up.”

“Can I just leave this here with you?” You asked because you did not want to have any sort of an interaction with Steve right then; what you really wanted was to get back home. 

“Usually with most packages, yes. But for this, Mr. Harrington told me that he wanted you to bring it up.”

Of course, he did. And you knew the exact reason why he was doing this was so that he could say some sort of shitty comment to you about this mistake you made since he apparently hadn’t done enough of that on the phone before he hung up on you.

“Is there a bathroom I can use first before I head up?”

James gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, the bathroom in the lobby is for residents only, and management is really strict about that rule.”

“Okay,” You responded with a small sigh. “What floor is Steve on and what’s his apartment number?” 

“He’s at the Penthouse, so you’ll just press PH and his place is the only one up there.”

You nodded at that before heading to the elevators. On the entirety of the ride up to the top floor, you mentally prepared yourself for whatever Steve would say to you, and you also pushed your need to pee far away. 

Your knuckles rapped against his door in three quick knocks and after making you wait for an unbearably long minute— which felt so much longer than just a minute and almost made you think that you’d somehow ended up at the wrong apartment— Steve opened it.

“Here are the script rewrites,” You said and you held out the envelope for him to take. 

“Thank you,” Steve said, his voice unmistakingly condescending, as he grabbed the envelope from you. It was actually kind of fitting that the first time he ever said a “thank you” to you was in a sarcastic way. “Sorry for making you do your job.” 

Apparently, the mental preparation you’d done on the elevator had been no help at all because his words in that moment irritated you more than anything else he had ever said to you. 

You were at your breaking point for dealing with all of his shitty remarks pretty much every day for the past two weeks and giving him nothing back in response. You’d continuously swallowed down everything you had wanted to respond to his comments with, but right then, it was as if every other annoying thing you’d dealt with from the day was bubbling over, and for once you actually couldn’t hold back. 

“Oh yeah, no problem,” You said, easily matching his sarcasm. “I actually did this all on purpose because today has been the absolute worst day ever and I wanted to make it even worse by talking to you right now. Honestly, the perfect way to end this shitty Friday.” 

You almost felt bad for everything you’d said, maybe that outburst was a bit much, but then for the briefest of moments you could’ve sworn that one side of his mouth quirked upward in something that resembled the tiniest of smiles before he simply looked at you with the straightest face you’d ever seen. It was hard to feel bad for what you said when, at least for a millisecond, he seemed somewhat amused by it. 

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments. You expected him to say something in response to your comeback, but he began closing the door instead. Of course, right then was when your need to pee decided to come back. 

“Wait.” You said, placing a hand on the door before he fully closed it. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“No,” He said and then finished shutting the door. 

“Okay, I’m sorry for what I just said,” You said, making your voice loud enough so he could hear you through the door. It was actually a bit easier to apologize without having to look at him. “I shouldn’t have said it.”

His response came barely a second later. “Still no.”

You were so close to letting go, but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to last on the twenty minute drive back to your place, which could potentially be pushed to thirty minutes depending on how terrible LA traffic decided to be right then. Therefore, you knew you had to keep trying. But you also knew that you’d rather pee your pants than beg Steve Harrington for anything, so you weren’t going to say one “please” to him. 

“Come on. The guy in the lobby said that I can’t use the one down there because of some management rule.”

Steve didn’t say anything to that so you decided to continue. 

“If I die of a bladder infection, you’ll get stuck with a random PA as an assistant for the rest of filming, and you’ll probably hate them more than you hate me. Also, if I die I promise I will haunt you so much.” 

It would’ve made sense to assume that he walked away from the door by then, probably to his bedroom or somewhere else far away from where he could potentially hear anything you were saying. But, something told you he was at least still lingering by it. 

“Steve?”

Finally, he decided to say something. “You’re not gonna leave, are you?”

You almost laughed at how annoyed he sounded. “No, so unless you wanna get blamed for me dying outside of your door, you should just let me use your bathroom.”

You heard something that sounded like a cross between a scoff and an actual laugh, and then moments later, the door opened and he let you inside. 

You refused to admire anything about his apartment as you walked in. Not the phenomenal looking kitchen that had a huge white marble island in the center of it. Not the living room area that had a huge television hanging on the wall and an even bigger white couch that looked way too soft and inviting. And definitely not the floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a beautiful view of the city; you could even see the fucking Hollywood sign lit up in the distance.

There was nothing you admired about his apartment. In fact, you kind of hated the place. 

And you were also a huge liar. 

“The guest bathroom is down the hall,” Steve told you. “The door on the left.”

You nodded at that, avoiding eye contact with him because you didn’t want him to see how enamored you were with his apartment; you were sure that it was written all over your face. 

You headed to the bathroom, which for just a guest bathroom seemed way too big, and it simply became another thing that you upsettingly liked about the place. 

After using the bathroom, you looked in the mirror and were quickly reminded that you hadn’t cared to change out of your pajamas before leaving your apartment, so you still had on a pair of black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt from high school that had faded letters and random bleach spots. The only thing you added to your outfit was a zip up hoodie because it was actually a little chilly outside, and you now zipped it up because you felt embarrassed about your shirt, even though Steve had definitely already seen it. 

You finished washing your hands and then left the bathroom. You saw Steve leaning against the kitchen island, already looking at the script you’d given him. 

“Thank you for letting me use your bathroom,” You said as you started heading toward the door. “See you Monday.” 

He only nodded at you and didn’t say anything else before you opened the door and left. 

When you were in your car, your phone pinged with a text from him. 

Steve: Let’s try not to have anymore fuck ups next week, okay?  

You rolled your eyes at his message. 

You: Sorry but I’m already planning to fuck up your coffee order on Monday so yeah…

Steve: Really great joke.  

It was almost too easy to read the text in his usual sarcastic tone. 

You: Not a joke. 

You were close to leaving the conversation there; putting your phone down and ignoring whatever else he’d say to you as you drove home to finally have the night that you wanted to have. However, there was something about him now seeing you as bad at your job because of this one mistake you made that didn’t sit well with you. 

You pressed the call button on his contact name before you could think better of it. 

He answered on the third ring. “What?”

“I always do my job well, by the way,” You told him. “Today was a shitty day and it was actually a bit hard to juggle your shit with the other shit being thrown at me, so the script rewrites completely slipped my mind, and I’m sorry about that. But, it won’t happen again.” 

You expected him to immediately hang up on you like he did with all of your other calls because none of them ever had an actual ending, but he didn’t hang up. Instead, he simply said, “Okay,” and then ended the call. You had a feeling that that was probably the closest you’d ever get to getting any sort of a “goodbye” while on the phone with him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

next part!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington series #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things series #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x y/n

[phoxey]

The White Raven (Bada Lee Gang AU)

Bada Lee x fem!reader

CW: violence, angst if you really really squint, mentions of blood

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 - Have you ever killed someone, Bada?

You were tired. It was three in the morning and it was your fourth night shift this week. You worked three jobs. During the day you tutored kids in English, in the evening you worked for a food delivery service and in the night, you worked in a 24/7 convenience store, so you only ever slept from seven to noon, each day. And you were happy if you had one day off in a month. You worked so much because your little brother needed the money for the private school he was going to, which your mom could barely afford. Your brother had all the potential to get your family out of poverty, so you supported him where you could so he could focus on his school.

You were texting with him when a few girls your age came into the store. You knew them, they were rowdies from around here. They came in laughing and talking loudly. You heard the first glass bottle smash onto the ground followed by more laughter. They came after a while to pay for the beer they wanted.

“Sorry, darling, one of the bottles fell to the ground back there.”, the tall girl said and smirked at you. It wasn’t an apologetic smile; it wasn’t even remotely friendly. It was more of a smile like a tigress who was about to eat you alive if you dared to move. Your heart was beating so fast, you didn’t want any trouble.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry. I will clean that up.”, you said timidly as she was towering over you.

She just nodded and she and her group left. The last time they have also broken some things and you were sure that they even stole some stuff.

You quickly got a mop and a trashcan to clean the floor in the beer aisle. That aisle was directly in front of the entrance so you could see outside. The group was laughing and drinking outside when another group of older men approached them, they seemed to be angry and the group dropped their beers and started to run. But the tall girl from earlier didn’t react fast enough, the men caught her by her jacket and pushed her to the ground, they started to kick and beat her. One even had a baseball bat.

You don’t know what came over you but as if you were in a fury trance, you stepped outside. Mid-air you grabbed the other end of the baseball bat and pulled strongly once, so it slipped out of the hands of the man, who turned around confused. He wasn’t even fully facing you when the baseball bat hit his jaw and he fell back.

“Homerun.”, you said and stared at the other guys. “I will kill you if you touch him again.” They saw the creepy look in your eyes and grabbed their friend to run off.

You let the baseball bat fall and knelt to the girl who was whining in pain.

“Are you okay? Can you talk? Wait… I will call an ambulance.”, you said and wanted to stand up to go inside to your phone, but she grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t. No ambulance. No police.”, she winced.

“You need medical treatment!”, You said shocked.

“You treat me then.”, she hissed sternly, holding her ribs.

Somehow you brought her inside and sat her down on the couch in the break room. You brought multiple ice packs and gave them to her to hold them to her ribs. She winced again when you cleaned a wound on her lip with a disinfectant. She stared at you as she worked on her wounds. After a moment you met her eyes and blushed at her intense stare.

“You were badass, out there.”, she whispered. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”, You answered simply.

“I’m Bada.”, she said smiling. “You were like an action movie hero. What did you say to him? ‘Homerun.’?”

You chuckled flustered. “I don’t know what came over me…”

“You saved me.”, Bada stated matter-of-factly.

“What did I save you from, Bada?”, You asked.

“A rivaling gang. They think this is their territory, but they lost this area quite a while ago to us.”, she shrugged.

“You are a gang? I thought you were just rowdies!”, You were shocked.

“Rowdies? No. We are not just rowdies. But I won’t bore you with details.”, Bada said suddenly, she must have realized that she had said too much already. She stood up, still wincing and hissing in pain, but she was determined that she didn’t need her care anymore.

She went to the little desk, grabbed a piece of paper, and wrote something down. Then she turned and gave you the paper. “If there is something I can do to express my gratitude, don’t hesitate to call me.”, she said.

“Actually, there is something you can do. My life is stressful enough, so… if you couldn’t come here again with your friends, it would be much appreciated.”, you said sternly.

She looked at you for a moment then she turned around and walked out, yet you could hear Bada's chuckle linger in the room longer than you expected.

For a few weeks, you didn’t see her again. You had almost forgotten about her when suddenly someone leaned on your head with her elbow, as you were mopping the floor one evening.

“Hey!”

Bada just laughed at you and you rolled your eyes. “I thought I said that I don’t want you to come here again.”, you huffed as you walked away.

She followed you, grinning. “I know, I really tried to stay away. Then I remembered that technically you only said that I shouldn’t come here with my friends anymore. And look, it’s just me.”

“Wonderful. Grab a beer, pay for it, and then go on with your night, okay?”, you said. Your eyes shot to the entrance; you almost expected those men from last time to enter seeking for revenge.

Bada followed your gaze and realized something. “You’re safe. They won’t come. I made sure of that.”

A shiver ran down your spine when she said the last sentence. But you decided to be cocky, something about Bada emboldened you. “What do you mean, you made sure of that? I made sure of that. I broke that one guy's jaw.”

Bada laughed at that when she grabbed a beer. Then she threw money on the counter before opening the can.

“That much is true. I must admit, I was very impressed.”, she said. “Did you once play baseball?”

You briefly thought of the real reason, but quickly shook her head, blinked away tears, and put on a smile. “Yes. Yes, I played baseball in high school.”

Bada tilted her head like a curious puppy, certainly not buying that. “Ah. What position did you play?”

You knew nothing about baseball. “Pitcher.”

Bada frowned. Shit, wrong answer, you thought. “I don’t believe you.”, she concluded.

“You’d be scared of me if you knew.”, You said.

“I’m scared of nothing.”, Bada said and sat on the counter with her beer, when You put Bada’s money into the cash register.

Then it was Bada's turn to have a shiver go down her spine when she saw your eyes next. They were suddenly very empty and almost pitch black. “Have you ever killed someone, Bada?”

Continue reading: Chapter 2

#bada lee swf #swf #swf2 #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #bada lee #team bebe

[juvenillia]

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 02: too close

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: this is the first time for me writing something like this, so bare with me if the actions scenes are a bit sloppy, I'll get the hang of it, idc about the actual height of reader, but we're at least the smallest in the group, also little extra note: I'll go on vacation upcoming Saturday and won't be able to write for two weeks, I try really hard atm to prepare as much chapters as possible for the time ahead

CW/TW: mentions of canon violence, smoking, closing off due mental illness

wordcount: 3.2k

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The first beams of sunlight broke through the window just above the bed. Your eyes trailing over the rays of light that were dancing on the ceiling. You lay awake for what felt like eternity. The night was somehow restless, again. By now you committed to a few hours of sleep. As few as possible but as much as necessary. Keeping the risk low to trigger your nightmares. Keeping the chance low to have to look into his eyes again. A lump was forming in your throat while you let your thoughts roam back and forth.  Maybe you should learn about a thing called power-napping, you read it in a magazine some time ago while sitting in a coffee shop. It really could save you one day.

With that thought you pushed yourself out of bed. Putting on a casual sports fit. Now that the sun was finally up, there was no need any more to stay in bed. You put a cap on, pulled your hair through the back. Laced your boots up and went out for some casual morning rounds around the base. Price already told you their usual morning routine and it was kind of funny, how all military bases had a quite similar routine. You sneak through the hallway to go outside. Trying to keep as quit as possible to wake no one. It was still early, even for the military. As soon as your feet touched the gritted ground you started running. Keeping a good pace while rounding the base. At some point you nodded your greetings to a few other people already awake and going after whatever, they pleased. You decided to pick up your pace. You didn’t want to waste all your energy, but still wanted to push yourself a bit further. You had quite some busy day ahead, so you needed to get yourself going.

You took a few more corners until you heard a voice. “Skadi.”, turning around you were greeted with a blissful smile. You stopped in your track, jogging slowly at the spot. “Madainn mhath!”, [Good morning] Soap breathed out after catching up to you. “Good morning.”, you replied with a quiet snicker. Your reaction earns you an even brighter smile from the Scot. “Yer understood?”, his eyes were nearly beaming. It was somehow adorable, and you knew, that the two of you would get along at ease. Maybe too good for your liking. “Seems like it.”, you shrugged off while keeping your legs busy. “Dae ya mind if I join ya?”, a nod with a slight smile was your only response. So, both of you started jogging around the base. Not talking much, at least for your part. You were rather listening to everything Soap gladly explained you. The way the team works together, each specialty, some pet peeves, their little rituals. Some fun anecdotes from after mission celebrations. He really was chatty, and you gladly listened in. He was so sincere and pure, plus all his words gave you a good overview about everyone. They also gave you a warm feeling around your chest. Even if you tried to avoid this kind of reaction, he was just too genuine.

Still, you barely told him about yourself. It didn’t sit right with you. He learned that you were quite an allrounder when it comes to the job and that you were obviously an early bird. He didn’t know that you were also a night owl. The sweet nemesis called sleep. A fight you’ll win one day, hopefully not on your last day. He also learned that Price and you met about three years ago. Not really how, but that it was for a coincidence that comes with the job. Also, he learned that you were quite capable of speaking a few languages and understanding even more. He quite often threw some Scottish at you and for once in his life (while being outside of his home of course) he didn’t get scolded for it. It was clear to see that he enjoyed your company, and you would’ve lied to say you didn’t enjoy his. It felt just smooth.

After some time, you came to a halt. Catching your breath, you couldn’t remember the last time you were talking so much while running. Stretching your body while bending down to grab the front of your boots. Halting the position on suspense. Suddenly you saw a bottle in front of you, Soap held it out for you to grab. “Thanks.”, you gladly took it and nearly downed half of it.  He only nodded, still a happy smile around his lips. How can a person be smiling non-stop. “Dinnea know about ya, but ‘m starving.”, he exhaled with a chuckle, drinking his own water. “Wanna head to the canteen?”, he looked at you with those clear blue eyes. As you gained your posture again you let out a slight sigh. “Sorry Soap. Still have to unpack and other stuff to do.”, you didn’t look at him. Sure, it was a half-assed excuse, but you didn’t want to get his expectations too high and if you were honest, you didn’t want to get too close. You already felt so comfortable in his company. Too comfortable. You needed to keep your guard up. He was a stranger after all. Maybe he wasn't even such a nice guy, maybe he only treated you so wholesome because of your gender and therefore some different assets. Maybe he had strictly different intentions in his behavior. You couldn't tell, and you shouldn't care.

But maybe that’s why you never called the cute barista guy from around the corner, back at your place. Because he was too genuine, too innocent. You gave it a lot of thoughts to be honest. He was a nice dude, he memorized all your preferred drinks depending on the weather and had them always ready when you came back from your morning run. You loved routine and you kinda enjoyed that he became a part of it, but sooner or later it would break apart anyways. He was just too good for you. He wouldn't be able to keep up with you. It surely wouldn't be something more than a lousy one night stand, what wasn't your thing at all. You were too complicated, too distant and you couldn't let yourself believe that someone could even show a glimpse of honest interest. Well, that's at least what you told yourself all the time to justify pushing everyone away. Same for Marc, or was his name Maik? Your neighbor next door, he even invited you for his wedding. Did you go? Of course not. You only send a card, not even able to look him in the eye to congratulate him.

This way you did what you could do best, you started closing off to the man in front of you. For the rounds it was different. Here it was only the two of you, two comrades having a morning run and just some little introduction, but heading for breakfast together, that was already a commitment. A commitment you were not capable of taking. You’d rather pick a quick snack before looking for Price. See what he has planned out for you today, and God, you hoped it was just getting to know everyone around the base. Spoiler alert, he had different plans.

To your surprise Soap did understand, still wearing a slightly disappointed glance, but he didn't push it and so, you parted your ways.

Going after your day wasn’t so hard. Price introduced you around, you finally got your keycard, you had to fill out a few formulars. Stuff was going along easily and most of the times you were on your own. Until you heard Price’s voice again. He told you, that they could need your help with today’s rookie lesson, and you gladly accepted the duty. Gladly, until you were greeted by Soap and Ghost. Latter didn’t really greet you, but at least he was polite enough to nod towards you. The men were already standing and watching a bunch of recruits still chatting away. You walked over to them with Price at your side. Standing next to Soap and watching the crowd not paying much attention to your arrival. Ghost only needed to step forward to gain the attention of every youngling around. He held an intimidating appearance.

 “Listen up.” He yelled out and you totally felt the thick air. He was already a behemoth of a man, but his voice plus the mask really made a silhouette that was frightening. It reminded you of something you’d rather forget. Yourself straighten up as he begun, but before he kept going, Soap stepped forward. Seemed like Ghost was only here to keep them in line and Soap was the official speaker. Maybe it was better for the recruits this way. Soap quickly explained that they were doing sparring sessions today. Especially learning how to read the intentions of your enemy and to be able to be a step ahead before their actual move. You remember how your first sessions were and how you were barely able to keep up with your opposite. How time flies, you thought to yourself and kept your attention on Soaps words. He had quite a way to motivate the younglings in front of him.

Your glance traveling over the faces and catching quite some few females as well. It always brought you a pleasant feeling in your stomach to see, that more and more women would join the army. Especially because you were always underestimated. Your path from the beginning till here was an odyssey. Not talking about the bone crushing weight on your shoulders by now, but to start through in the military as a woman was nearly impossible some time ago. Way too many prejudices.

 The recruits were told to find each other a partner for today's session. Soap and Ghost would give them a quick demonstration of what they were up to. So, Price and you would be teamed up in that case. That wasn’t to be going to be so bad, you heard your words echoing through your mind.

That was until you heard the raspy voice of the Lieutenant again. "Don't mix up genders. Shall stay fair.", he exclaimed dry and that way he earned a scoffed chuckle. He turned around and faced you with a death glare. Soap immediately turning around looking at the scenario with shock in his eyes. "Have a problem with that Seargent?", his voice went even deeper when he turned his whole body towards you. Soap made a gesture with his hand shaking before his throat, symbolizing you to stop what you were doing. Unlucky for everyone around - except your Captain - you were way too stubborn to retreat now. "Just a suggestion but let them pick their opponents themselves regardless the gender. Nobody cares on the battlefields either.", you stated calm, your glance not adverting. Price watched the whole scenery a bit too curious. He knew the two of your for quite some time and he already expected that the tension between you would become thrilling.

Ghost stepped closer to you. You couldn't read him, but you could definitely see that you pissed him off. His eyes burning into yours. "We should keep it easy by now.", he was only a few inches away from you. You stared back, looking in that chocolate iris. You could've just backed down, but it was too challenging. "So, you believe women are not worthy a challenge?", your eyes never retreating his state. He was so damn pissed. He stepped even closer to you, you could feel his hot breath even through the mask, brushing a long your skin and sending shivers done your spine.

Soap wanted to step in, but Price let just a hand rest on his shoulder, signaling him to stay out of this. "I'm only saying that they have to learn something without getting real injuries before even placing a foot on the battle ground." He hissed through gritted teeth. He didn't even know why he argued with you, but he couldn't stand it. He knew that one shouldn't miscalculate about the opposite gender. But the way you interrupted him, the way you looked at with him with such a stubborn glance.

It made him furious. But the way you didn't even reacted the slightest to his presence. Well, you did, but you were to pride to show it. "Then you underestimate them." - "They have to learn before proofing themselves." - "You only learn when you can try and error." - "Error doesn't mean getting real hurt." - "Okay, so you're sure about them getting hurt." It went on like this for some time. Back and forth, staying always in polite line, but the tension grew with each word.

Soap looked the most nervous of all watching the two of you battling with your words. Price still holding him back. Of course, a situation with only the team would have been better to test the waters out but he would take what he could. "You're stepping a line, Seargent." He literally growled at you. "Then you're also underestimate me, Lieutenant.", you hissed back at him. Right here, right now you noticed how close he was standing in front of you. Your breath brushing along his mask, and his hot steaming breaths dancing over your bare skin. He was way too close for your liking.

Standing across of each other and staring holes into the other person. You only realized now how huge he was, trying to literally stare you down into the ground. A ground you would gladly like to stand.

"Why don't you pair up and we will see who's right.", a mocking voice of the recruits let both of your heads snap out of the haze you were in. You leaned a bit back. You didn't even notice how you tried to make yourself taller in front of him. "That's...", just as Ghost wanted to scold the rookie, Price stepped in, "a wonderful idea. This way we can exactly demonstrate a perfect example." He stepped forward looking at both of you. A slight chuckle escaped your lips, still looking with vitally at Ghost. His chest was waving heavy. He tried to steady himself and his temper. "Why not.", you turned around to move to the mat that was originally reserved for Soap and Ghost. The latter following you. "Don't hurt yourself.", he teased and with that he only awakened an insatiable competing desire.

Soap wore a face of a mixture between curiosity and concern. He had pushed Simon a few times before, but this was somehow different. You had no suspicious about each other’s limits and you gladly pushed everything over the edge right now. "Don't hold yourself back, big boy." Even with the mask you know his face would be burning.

You already fought bigger guys than him, just keep your cools and be observant. Just pinning him down once would be enough to proof your point. Your mind literally switched and cutting all of the unnecessary surrounding out. He was nothing different to any of them, but oh lord, you were so wrong with that statement. You could see a switch in his eyes, something you knew too well yourself.

In a heated movement he already reached out to you, trying to get hold of you. For a guy with his build, he was especially fast. Something you didn't suspected. Before you could think of your first turn, his giant hands were already onto your shoulders pressing you down. Lucky for you, you were particularly flexible and even more agile. You find a way to bend yourself out, but Ghost was soon on it. Throwing one of his legs in your direction to block your way out. You reached with your free hand to use his thigh as support to push yourself further up. His hands gripped for your wrist to pull you down once more, but he missed, so you saw your chance. Throwing your legs up and literally over his throat. Forcing him down. His legs were weaker in the position he found himself in, so he slowly bends over. He reached for your waist to throw you over his shoulder, but you were quick to use your hands to get a grip of his statue. Pulling yourself further up, that you would literally split his arms away with your thighs. Your completely weight pushing him down, until his knees gave in, and he found himself with his back on the mat. Your upper half resting inches away from his throat, where you had placed one of your arms to give it a bit more strength. Hovering slowly over him. A self-content smile on your lips, you looked him in his eyes. He just stared back; his eyes quite blank. You could feel his heavy breaths onto you, his chest rising and lowering just like your own. Now you were the one staring him down.

Soap was completely paralyzed by the scene in front of him, and Price only chuckled watching his charges. He knew from the beginning that the two of you needed a lot of patience with each other, especially when pushing each other so far, but he also believed that you would fit in just perfectly. You could learn so much from everyone around so that the 141 could even grow better and closer. Ghost for his part was really glad he had his mask. His face burnt from the heat of his own skin. Ashamed, anger, annoyance. He couldn't tell it apart. So many thoughts flooded his brain while staring into your eyes. "You know how to retread, don't ya Lieutenant?", your voice pulling him out of his mind. He let out a completely pissed groan, before lifting his hand and tapping two times at your thigh. You gladly stood up from your place.

You knew he did spare you; he didn't used his full strength on you but this way he really did underestimate you. A mistake he would never commit twice. You reached out a hand to help him up, but he only ignored it and stood up with no problem. You shrugged it off. "Don't be such a sore loser.", Soap cried out behind your back, but Simon did ignore him. He rather shouted at the recruits to keep starting. You turned around and Price gave you a paternal thumbs up, which only made you shake your head. You didn't give too much attention to Soap though. Still letting the incident of the morning washing over your mind. Ghost also looked out for getting away as fast and as far as possible from the Scot. He knew Johnny would be nonstop teasing him about the situation, and Simon couldn't even blame him, therefore. His cheeks were still streaming hot.

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#simon ghost riley #cod mw ghost #cod mw x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #strangers to lovers #slow burn #simon ghost x you #ghost angst #ghost x you #john soap mactavish #soap cod #johnny soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod #phillip graves #task force 141 #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod fanfic #cod ghost

[elisysd]

The List – Maisie Peters

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

So can you talk? You know I'm stacking up Until the night I'm not enough And you're just someone else I disappoint

Monaco was becoming bearable to Lyanna. She wouldn’t say that she liked the city, but she was warming up to it. There was something special in its air. In the span of three weeks, she managed to make two new friends. Charles obviously, she was starting to see him as a friend more than an acquaintance, and Kika. They instantly clicked during the dinner at Charles’. They had so many things in common. They both loved fashion, old movies that no one knew about, and random facts about animals. They were both career oriented and pretty independent. They quickly exchanged their phone numbers and promised each other to stay in touch and to organize something if they both landed to be in the same place at the same time.

As for Pierre, she didn’t have much time to get to know him. Truth be told, he was intimidating to Lyanna. He had such a big persona. The way he carried himself with such confidence was something she admired. If only she could be a little more like that. But she knew that she could learn to be his friend, at some point. After all, they had a huge common point, as they were both French. Obviously, this brought them closer.

Lyanna also admired Kika and Pierre’s relationship. They were like two sides of the same coin. They were laughing at the same things, finishing each other sentences and had the exact same look on their faces whenever they were looking at each other. It was cute. When she shared her thoughts with Kika, the young woman had admitted that it was not that easy at the beginning. She got a lot of hate because of the age gap between them. She felt alone but Pierre had never given up on her. He could have, it could have been easier. The hate was strong and she knew that it had also been a difficult time from the Frenchman. But in the end the experience had only strengthened their feelings for each other. Somehow, she was glad that it happened this way. Now it was okay, she was still receiving nasty comments from time to time, but it was easier to manage.

Naturally Kika had asked to Lyanna if she had someone special in her life, to what the actress had confessed that she didn’t have the time to date. She wanted to focus on her career, that was the most important thing to her. She had been single for three years now, and she was fine with it. She was still learning to appreciate her own company.

“My last relationship ended up with my heart shattered in pieces and a psychotherapy that is still ongoing. I don’t want to go through that again. I’m fine with me being alone. It’s not as bad as people make it out to be.”

“Yeah obviously. But still, wouldn’t you like to have someone you know you’re going home to?” asked Kika.

“I don’t even know what home is. I’m always away. I’m renting an apartment in London that I barely occupy; you know. I’m living more in my suitcases than in my place. And it’s fine, I chose it. I don’t regret it.”

“As cliché as it’s going to sound, sometime home is where the heart is.” Kika murmured, her head naturally turning to Pierre.

That night, Lyanna fell asleep with a smile on her face. It had not happened for a long time.

The days passed again. Lyanna had started filming and it was going relatively well. A little better than she had expected. David continued to behave like a total moron and some of his remarks towards Lyanna were inappropriate, but the young woman didn't pay much attention to them. She knew how to put him in his place when he needed to be put in his place, and even if this sometimes weighed on her, it did not make the atmosphere on the set intolerable. But she was wary anyway, she couldn't shake off that sick feeling in her stomach every time she met his eyes when the cameras were off. 

But after a few weeks of working almost non-stop she finally had a break. She was not needed for the next three days and she was looking forward to a good sleep and doing nothing. On her way back she met Charles who was heading back from his evening run. Naturally, she asked him if he wanted to hang out, she had become accustomed to the presence of the driver in her life.

“Since you're free tomorrow, would you like to come with me so I can show you the most beautiful view of Monaco?” He offered her.

She accepted with great pleasure. However, what the Monegasque failed to mention was that he would be knocking on her door at dawn the next day.

“I knew you would have said no if I had told you that I would wake you up at 6am but trust me you won’t regret it.” He excused himself.

“Just like you oh so conveniently forgot to mention that we would have to walk. I hate exercising Charles!”

He just laughed while she tried to find in her bags and closet something appropriate for a hike. Once ready to go they headed to the underground parking lot to take Charles’ car. When they were both ready to go, Charles took a banana, a carton of juice and a croissant out of his backpack. No way was she going to walk on an empty stomach, he told her. The last thing he wanted was to have to walk back carrying her because she had a hypoglycemic episode.

“You would deserve that Leclerc. You woke me up to make me walk I don’t know for how long; you deserve all my grumpiness.” She told him.

And indeed, how grumpy she was. She decided to complain all the way. At some point Charles suspected that it was more to annoy him and tease him than real complains. For almost two hours they walked along the small footpath. Charles was ahead of Lyanna and had to stop often to check that the young woman was following him and had not turned back. When Lyanna wasn't stopping regularly to catch her breath, she was admiring the speed and ease with which Charles was moving.

Soon enough they finally reached their destination and Lyanna’s breath was taken away.

“Welcome to La Tête de Chien, the place where you can have the best view of Monaco” murmured Charles.

From where they were, they overlooked Monaco. They could see the Marina and its yachts and the mountains in the distance. The sun was not yet high in the sky and the air was breathable, so Lyanna understood better why Charles had insisted that they go there so early. There was something peaceful about this place.

“It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.” Lyanna said in awe.

Charles smiled gently and his hands in his pockets he approached the edge of the path and sat down on the small wall, motioning Lyanna to do the same. She looked like a little kid to him, trying to see everything all at once and absorbing every little detail.

“I want to stay here forever.”

Charles felt a sense of pride but didn’t mention it. There was something really beautiful about watching Lyanna truly appreciate Monaco for the first time and he didn’t want to break the magic of the moment. Instead he took his phone out and took a picture of the view before posting it as a story on Instagram. He also took a picture of is friend while she was not looking. He wanted to keep a trace of the instant.

Lyanna decided to do the same. It was time to announce that she was shooting a new movie and what better way to do it than by showing this beautiful view. A story with a quick caption would be enough, she didn’t need to do more. The marketing team of the movie would be a better job than her but still, she liked to keep people up to date with what she was working on.

What they both did not know at the moment and did not expect was that two simple stories would make everything go downhill.

Twenty-four hours after the hike, Lyanna received an unexpected call from her agent. Sophie never called her when she was shooting a movie and when her name popped out on Lyanna’s phone, she immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Do I have to sit for what you’re about to announce me?”

“Lya, good to hear you. And no, I don’t think so. But we have a B type problem on the way.”

A B type problem meant that it was related to Lyanna’s private life and that it was still under control. It was more like rumors and it didn’t involve the press. Yet. In that case it was a A type problem and signified that Lyanna’s privacy was going to be deeply impacted and turned into a shitshow. But still, B type was not good.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Do you by any chance, know the Ferrari racing driver Charles Leclerc?”

“How did you…”

“Someone on Twitter that is following both of you on Instagram pointed out that you posted the same landscapes at almost the same time. You can easily imagine wat they are deducing.”

Lyanna gulped. She didn’t imagine that something like that could happen. It was naive from her; she knew Charles was popular and she was too. Statistically, it was bound to happen that they would have followers in common.

“We are not dating, if it’s what you’re implying. We’re friends. He’s my neighbor actually, there’s nothing going on between us.” Justified Lyanna.

“You do what you want with who you want Lyanna, my job is not to monitor you. I’m just saying that for now it’s rumors, but you how fast things can escalate, I’m not going to teach you that. You do wat you want from this information. I’m just saying that he has a huge fanbase, he draws a lot of attention from the media, I checked him online. And I know how you feel about being involved with people like that.”

Another mistake that Lyanna did was that she never checked is social media presence. She should have, she could have but she never thought about it. She was not a social media person; it never crossed her mind to search Charles on Instagram or on Twitter or anywhere to be honest. She quickly typed his name on the Instagram search bar and almost choked when she saw the number of ten million followers. That was almost as much as her with her twelve million.

“Oh shit.”

“What do you want to do?”

She hesitated. A huge part of her valued er relationship with Charles. It made her feel good, she felt herself with him. Not Lyanna Michel, the actress, but just Lyanna. And it had been such a long time since that happened. But another part of her, smaller but more vicious could not help but reminder what happened the last time she was involved with someone famous and how it turned her life upside down and not in the good sense of the term.

From Charles’ end, it’s his little brother Arthur who taught him the rumor by texting him.

You didn’t tell me that you were involved with Carla’s favorite actress.

What do you mean??

Check Twitter.

And Charles did. And Charles first thought was, what did he do in a past life to be involved in two dating rumors in the span of a few weeks? His second thought was directed to Lyanna. He tried to call her but he went straight on her voicemail. He insisted two, three time but no answer. He texted her but no answers as well. He then went to her place. He knocked and waited but still, no answers. He insisted on knocking louder but nothing changed. And e knew she was there, he could hear noise from inside. She was shutting him out. And it made him upset.

“Lyanna, open the door. I know you’re in there.”

Still nothing but if she wanted to be stubborn, so was Charles. Two could play that game.

“I won’t leave until you open this door. I will knock and knock again until you talk to me. I know you saw Twitter. We have to talk about it Lyanna.”

Finally she opened. A little, just a crack but enough for Charles to slip through the gap left by the opening. And then she was there, observing him, not saying one thing. It was like all the progress he made with her; all the trust that took a little time be built vanished. All of his work reduced to nothing. She was acting like a scaredy cat. She didn’t say a word to him.

“We’re friends Lyanna. Don’t shut me out.” He began.

“You are more famous than what I thought.”

Charles didn’t understand what she meant by that and how it was a problem.

“I’m still Charles. Famous or not. I didn’t change between yesterday and today.”

“You’re drawing attention. People have expectations. People are talking.”

She was rambling and on the verge of a panic attack. Naturally Charles made a move toward her but was surprised when she backed down.

“Lyanna, it’s not because that we are both under the public eye that we can’t be friends. We are human and human have friends.”

“I don’t want famous ones. I want my peace and quiet. Going out with you was a mistake. Posting on social media was a beginner mistake. Now, people are making up stuff.”

“I don’t care about what people think.”

“I do care!” She yelled. “I do care about my privacy being displayed online as entertainment, I will care when the press sees that as an opportunity to twist the truth and creates a story that I have no control over.”

“You can’t always control everything. You have to trust people. You have to trust me. We are both impacted here. I don’t care about the rumors; I only care about the truth and both you and I know it. And it’s enough. I won’t hide Lyanna. I’m free to do whatever the hell I want to do, no matter what people think. You should do the same, you have to. This is why you accepted to play Sally, right?”

“Well excuse me, but in the equation, I never thought to add going out with a celebrity.”

“Stop giving me that celebrity image Lyanna! I never thought of myself as such nor did I ever think of you the same way!” He snapped. “And I could have. But I didn’t because it’s not fair. I know you and…”

“That’s the thing Charles.” She cut him “You think you know me, but you don’t. We have known each other for what, three maybe four weeks. You can’t pretend to know me. Just like I can’t pretend that I know you.”

“Let me get to know you then. Let me know why you’re acting this way, let me know why you’re so scared that you don’t let me come near you! I want to Lyanna. But you don’t let me.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to! Maybe because if I told you all the twisted things I have been through, you would not understand and then you would leave me alone.”

“Don’t make this decision for me. Let me understand.”

“And for what? People leave when someone baggage is too heavy. And then what will I have left? Nothing. I won’t take that risk.”

“You’re not being fair. You have you own demons to face, I get that and I want to be there for you. But I won’t if you don’t help me understand. I can’t be a good friend then.”

“You would not understand Charles! Why are you so stubborn?”

The conversation was starting to be heated. Both of them refusing to meet halfway.

“You are scared and you’re acting as a coward Lyanna. I don’t know what you went through but you can’t let past events dictate youre life and your choices.”

“As if you knew something about hard times Charles! You grew up here, in a privileged world. You live the perfect life. You are not going to make me believe that you know something about traumas. You don’t know what it means to lose people.”

That hurt Charles more than anything. Scared to say something that he would regret and because they were not both in any state to have a real and appeased conversation, he decided to leave. He looked at her one last time before closing the door.

========

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#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #fiction #writing #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x female reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader

[indigosabyss]

DCST X Naruto: Kakashi Owed R&D A Favor

That was essentially how it started. He had needed some info on chakra manipulation training techniques that the library decided he didn't need.

So instead he asked some ninja in R&D to slip him the intelligence. Which they were allowed to do only by their discretion.

Which was more than a decade ago at this point, and with no favor called in, Kakashi was hoping they'd forgotten.

But of course Research-nin remembered. They lived longer than shinobi who were on field duty.

"So these supposed 'Thousand Jutsu' you know. There any merit to them?" Inabi, the first research-nin to approach him asked.

"I wouldn't say a thousand, but the number's up there." He agreed loftily.

"There's a new graduate from the Academy who could use your insight." She explained, "Hokage-sama is looking for a mentor for him, to refine his specific skillset. I think it'd be most productive to have you do it."

"What's this skill?" Kakashi asked uninterestedly. He'd just sent another batch of genin back to the Academy, too.

"He can build machines that recreate jutsus." She informed him, grinning, "Cool, yeah?"

Cool, maybe. But he'd still die in a field situation unless he knew how to work together with others.

---

In the end it was that favor and some mild curiosity which got him to show up at the Academy the next Monday to collect a base report on the kid and his strengths.

Shiraishi Gaku, with a pencilled in addition of Senku at the end, was ten. A little earlier than average these days.

He also had no taijutsu or ninjutsu score. Or genjutsu. No zeroes or anything. They just... weren't there.

The hell?

"Oh yeah, Senku-kun doesn't have properly developed chakra coils. So he couldn't be tested for ninjutsu and genjutsu." One of the Academy teachers explained, having noticed his baffled shuffling of the papers, "And he hated taijutsu so much he built an electronic Puppet to get out of it."

"And you let him skip taijutsu????" Kakashi asked. He was the furthest thing from a teacher, but even that didn't sound right. And why was he allowed to graduate at all if he categorically could not do any ninja art?

And then the last bit caught up to him, "He made a Puppet out of... electricity? But you just said he had no chakra coils."

"Not like made out of electricity." The teacher corrected wearily, "The electricity powers a metal exoskeleton or something I didn't quite understand his explanation."

Right. Because he could make machines that mimic jutsu. And he could do it so well that it was going to lead to his death in the near future.

The teacher's face lit up as he looked at something behind Kakashi, "Oh, you can ask him yourself!"

Senku was wandering up, looking exactly as he did in the photo on the report, except somehow even more unimpressed.

They both looked at each other for a moment, and Kakashi immediately knew this was going to be a headache.

---

If Kakashi didn't know better he would be convinced that the Hokage wanted Senku dead.

There was no other explanation as to why you would let a kid this unathletic ever become a ninja.

"We've been making this walk for weeks now! How are you still on the brink of death every time we complete it?"

"Shut up." Senku wheezed from the ground, "It's really far away, okay?"

"Barely three kilometers."

"And that's really fucking far!" Senku whined, "I don't need to walk this much. The research grounds to test new jutsu are nearer to the Village. Not like I'll ever be seeing actual action."

And again with that familiar refrain.

It had been nearly two months since Kakashi had first been assigned him, and Senku made sure to bring that up at least once every day.

And sure, maybe that was true, but Kakashi could not in good conscience allow a child to die because he was so insistent that he didn't need crucial training.

Everyone else catered to his idiosyncrasies because admittedly, yes, the kid was just that good, but he knew first-hand that geniuses didn't know what was good for them.

Something needed to be done.

"Senku." He decided, once the time came for them to go their separate ways for the day.

Senku looked at him curiously, arms piled up with the guts of a machine Kakashi didn't quite understand, "Yeah?"

With great solemnity, he ran through the signs and fired up Chidori.

"See this?" He lectured, over the bird-luke shrieking of the jutsu, "Your machines are good, but they're not as good as the techniques built by ninja all over the world."

He rammed it into the closest tree, and the bark came apart like tissue paper, the hole piercing all the way to the other side.

"What if that's you someday?" He demanded, "How will you counter it? How will you even hope to match it?"

He was being uncharacteristically serious, but he had to make sure something stuck. Clearly no one else was going to deny this stupid kid anything, so it was up to Kakashi to make him see sense.

For a long moment, Senku stayed quiet. Then he nodded, "You make a good point." And he walked away.

If this didn't work, Kakashi would have to sic Gai on him next.

---

Two weeks later, Senku randomly said, "Hey you remember that Lightning Fist technique you showed me."

"Chidori." Kakashi corrected on impulse.

"Yeah, that." Senku brushed off, holding up a kunai-shaped object. Except where the blade should be was a shallow funnel of some kind. And the handle clearly had a dial and a switch built into it.

Senku held it up to a tree, right next to the one he had felled with Chidori, and pressed a button.

Pulling it away slightly, Kakashi saw a rod of red light poking out from the center of the funnel, pointed directly into the bark.

Within seconds, the other end of the light came searing out from the other side of the tree.

One click of a button, and the light disappeared.

"Matched it." Senku told him levelly. His voice was serious. At least some part of the warning had been internalized.

Just not the part he wanted.

"Gai will be overseeing your taijutsu training from now on."

"What?!"

#dr stone #naruto #naruto fanfiction #dcst x naruto #hatake kakashi #ishigami senku #ibis ficlets

[paigenoelchas-blog]

****

Meet-Cute

Jake had never been good at giving gifts. The loss of his mother at an early age deprived him of learning many skills required for such a task. Every time the need came up, he thought about what to buy and ordered it online only to rethink the gift before it even arrived. Often he bought two or three items and rejected them all, instead purchasing a gift card. He knew it was impersonal, but at least they could get what they wanted.

His lack of confidence in this area was the only time he felt ill-equipped to conquer anything that was directed at him. Jake had succeeded in foster care despite many years of torment. He learned at an early age that he had a knack for computers. Despite the fact that he had been socially awkward, he managed to find friends and a place among the misfits as well as the popular kids. Jake had earned scholarships to several of the most prestigious schools in America and even a couple overseas.

It was Jake's last year in college when he had a dream job lined up upon graduation and a small group of close friends when a strange text popped up on his phone, one that changed everything. He had a sister, two in fact. Apparently, the women had tracked him down in an effort to develop a relationship. They were older, though not by much. Hannah, the oldest had been the one to contact him first. She was sweet and lovely. He liked her instantly. They talked like they had known each other for their entire lives. Lily was the oldest and at first, she was quiet and distrustful having no idea who Jake was or what effect he could have on her or her sister. Jake understood. They had both put in work at developing a friendship and an eventual love for each other.

This Christmas was the right time to meet them. It had been two years of almost daily texts and a handful of video chats. The siblings needed to see each other in person and the women agreed when he brought up the subject. He would travel to Duskwood, a small town in Massachusetts to meet them in two weeks.

Jake wanted to see them, look into their eyes, and find similarities in their being. He couldn't wait to give them a hug, to remember what it felt like to be part of a family. It was something that he hadn't felt since his mother passed when he was ten. Something that he didn't think he needed or wanted or missed until they came along.

His sisters, Hannah and Lily, had just sent the text confirming the date of the trip. He had booked a flight a few days early in order to get a feel for the town and relieve some of the awkwardness that would inevitably be a part of their first meeting. While he was confident in their meeting and in his ability to adapt and be likable, he also knew that he needed some time to prepare for the emotions that would undoubtedly surface.

He also needed to bring gifts and these could not be gift cards. The idea that he had to come up with something wonderful for them was imposing and unfortunate. So, when he walked into the shop on the corner, his head hung a little lower than usual and his feet drug along the ground as if his body was trying to retreat.

He slugged around the store touching a few things here and there, but not really noticing much. He regarded a lovely set of gloves and picked them up just to set them down again quickly. He noticed a candle that was particularly fragrant and sighed without even leaning in to take in the candle's scent completely. He rubbed a bit of fabric on a lavender dress as he walked past. His eyes barely took in the sight of it.

It took a moment before Jake lifted his eyes to see all of the things around him. When he did, he noticed that the store was light and filled with warmth. Soft sage paint swathed the room in color and vibrancy, but somehow still had a calming effect. The shop's location on the corner allowed a great deal of light to flow in from the outside and though it was winter and quite dreary somehow everything in this place made him feel comfortable and somehow surrounded by warmth.

The clothing was placed as if in a showroom rather than a small shop, hanging from various racks with ample space between them. Gold-edged floor-length mirrors flanked the walls and eclectic gold and white tables and shelves held a myriad of accessories, from the basic black to the most vibrant of hues. Jake had no idea where to start and was about to walk out when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Sir? Can I help you find something?" Spinning around, Jake landed his gaze on the most beautiful green eyes that he had ever seen. Something happened to him that had never happened before--he couldn't think of a thing to say. Could he admit that she may be the something that he was hoping to find? No, he could not. Instead, he tried to find a way to keep her talking a little longer and get those gifts he was after. Though, at the moment, he couldn't decipher which task was the most important.

Finally realizing that he had been standing in silence simply staring at her and those gorgeous eyes, he cleared his throat, "I may actually need some help. I have to find the perfect gifts, but I have no idea what I am doing or where to begin. I have many skills, but shopping is not one of them." He lowered his head without failing to notice how her long honey-colored hair spun in curls around her shoulders and the way that her smile peeked out of her vermilion lips.

"Perfect gifts," she spoke in a conspiratorial way and took his hand, pulling him to the back of the shop, "are exactly why I am here. I was made to help handsome men, such as yourself, find the best gift for the people they care about." Confidence and sunshine oozed out of her.

Usually, her perky attitude would have frustrated him, but the wink that she gave him and the way she grabbed his hand unabashedly provoked and intrigued him.

"So you think I am handsome?" Jake asked, prodding her.

"You know that you are," she smiled. He was both proud of the compliment and embarrassed that he had asked, She continued without pause, "but we have a task to accomplish. Who are you buying a gift for?"

As she spoke, she directed him to a mismatched pair of chairs, one a rich tan leather and the other an uncompromising buttery velvet. These two chairs shouldn't belong together, but when they sat around the ornate table everything seemed to match.

He pondered meeting such a person in a place like this. She was beautiful, but she was also more than that. She was inviting and warm. Her clothes were vibrant and alive, but her aura was calm and gentle. He hadn't known so many things could define one person.

Jake had been thinking for a bit, thinking about her and this place that was so different from the world outside He had been thinking a little too long when he thought he should answer before she believed him to be a lunatic. "The gifts are for my sisters, whom I have never met. I have been talking to them for the last couple of years and..."

"Wait," she interrupted and leaned in, clearly intrigued, "you have never met your sisters?"

He was pleased that she was interested and wanted to chat a bit. He decided to push things a little further, "I am fine with the personal questions, but I need to know your name first."

"What a cheap way to find out my name. You get me all interested and then refuse to divulge more information. Tricky. I will tell you if you tell me your name first." She winked, but he knew that he would tell her anything that she asked for.

"Jacob...Jake," he stuttered.

"I am Macie, nice to meet you, Jake," Her voice was softer as she spoke. Their eyes met for a moment and then as if she had to pull away, she brought the formality back to her voice and said, "Now about those sisters?"

He explained the situation and when they decided to meet. He explained how he stumbled on this store and how she was his only hope for a stress-free meeting. She listened intently, her emerald eyes focused wholly on him. He could feel her interest, both in his story and in his person. The tension between them had become palpable. She leaned in closer as he spoke and he found himself mimicking her posture in response.

They were in a world entirely their own when she broke the repose, "You, Sir, are very interesting aren't you?" She stood up and walked across the room, touching his shoulder as she passed him. "You sit right there. I think I have the perfect things for Hannah and Lily."

He was impressed that she remembered their names. He was impressed by everything he knew of her. She flitted around the store occasionally asking what colors Hannah would like or if he had noticed anything in the background on the video chats? She even asked how he liked his coffee, though Jake didn't see the importance of that question.

He answered her questions but offered nothing in the way of help except a focused gaze that followed her as she flitted around from table to table and rack to rack filling some impressive baskets with personal selections. She had a lovely figure and a butt that he could only dream of getting his hands on. Jake knew that she was aware of his admiration and she flaunted it. She was unashamed.

He had completely lost track of time when she placed one basket and then the other on the table in front of him and returned to her velvet chair. On her way to her throne, the smell of her floral perfume met his nose. It filled his senses and his brain with thoughts that he was having a hard time reeling in.

"What do you think?" Macie asked, eager to hear his opinion.

Words stumbled out before he had the chance to think. "You are beautiful...I mean... What are you asking?... the presents?" He could feel the heat rise on his cheeks and pinched his arm hoping to squelch the red quickly forming on his cheeks.

She smiled and he forgot himself for a moment. Then just as quickly, he managed to pull his focus off of her and onto the baskets that she had prepared. They were incredible and filled with several items of clothing, as well as scarves and mittens, lotions, and candles. Each basket was a little different and met the unique interests of each woman. He would have never been able to pull off such wonderful creations.

He touched a few items and admired the thoughtful and skilled gifts that she had presented. "They are exactly perfect." He wanted to say more, to tell her that she was indeed also exactly perfect as far as he could tell and that he had to see her again and not in such a place but rather on a proper date, with flowers to match the blush of her cheeks and candles to make the light dance in her eyes. He couldn't say those things of course. He settled on "It is amazing that you made these based off of a fifteen-minute conversation."

"I told you that you were interesting. I hung on your every word." She met his eyes and gave a shy smile. "I have been doing this for a couple of years professionally and many years before that. I have always been good at shopping and fitting the right gift for the right person. My friends always had me do their Christmas shopping."

He admired her confidence. Most people didn't acknowledge the things that they could do well. Somehow that made her all the more attractive to him.

"Indeed. I may have to make you my own personal shopper. You have only worked here a couple of years?" Jake asked, trying to keep the conversations alive.

"You could say that." She offered nothing more. There was something in her voice that made him aware that there was more to her answer, but he wasn't ready to dig deeper just yet.

"I don't think I can repay you for relieving the stress I felt when I walked in here today. Meeting my sisters will be much easier now." He spoke in earnest.

"I am just glad to help," she paused. "Are you headed there now...to meet your sisters, I mean?"

"No, I arrived in town early. I wanted to have some time to buy gifts and relax a little, settle into the town that may become very important to me. I mean, if my sisters are here, I may be around more often." He wanted to tell her that she would also be a reason for this town's importance, but he wouldn't say that, not yet."

They walked up to the register, and as he paid, he inspected the store once more and thought of how inviting it was, and how much that was like Macie. He noticed the quality and individuality that each item inspired. He thought how very much it represented her welcoming and warm sensibilities. This was the perfect place for her and she was the perfect person to be here.

"How long did you say that you worked here?" He asked impulsively.

I opened the place two years ago today." She spoke with pride, She should be proud, he thought. Owning something that was an extension of yourself was an enormous accomplishment.

"This place is yours?" He asked though it was more of a realization rather than a question.

"Yes, and a loving testament to my mother, she passed three years ago and this was our dream. We were going to open this place together." Her voice faded a little as she mentioned her mother.

He nodded at the reminder of his own mother and what he had lost so long ago. "I am sorry for your loss. She must have been an incredible woman."

"She was...in every way. I think I was the lucky one to get to love her." She paused then shook off the storm in her eyes and added, "You know, I did do a lot for you today." A crooked smile crossed her face, "I thought of a way that you could repay me."

He wanted to scream out that he was willing to repay her in any way that she asked, but those words did not escape. "Oh yeah, what's that?"

"Buy me a cup of coffee in that diner over there. I don't think I have had my fill of talking to you."

"Coffee? I can do better than that. What would you think if I brought you a cup of coffee now and then picked you up for dinner when the shop closes."

She smiled openly now, the most gorgeous smile that he had seen, "I would accept that as a form of repayment."

He laughed. She grabbed his phone and typed in her number.

"Just in case you have to cancel, or if you change your mind about dinner."

"That won't happen, but I suppose I would like to call you for other reasons." He got the chance to wink at her for once.

"I suppose that would be a desirable option." She looked down as if embarrassed by his retort.

They said their goodbyes with smiles and quick glances, both excited about the plans for the evening. As he took his packages to the car, he realized that he felt lighter than he had in weeks.

He still hated shopping, but he sure liked this store and the woman inside. Who knew that something he hated so much could lead him to something he so desired maybe something that he even needed?

Smiling, he picked up the phone, found Macie's number, and texted.

J: What kind of coffee do you drink?

He had not forgotten about his promise and he sure wasn't going to break one to her.

M: Surprise me. I bet you will guess it right.

A slight chuckle escaped from his lips as he headed across the street to the diner. While she was incredibly intuitive and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to surprise her, something told him that he was going to keep trying for a very long time.

****

This story was inspired by some fellow writers who are having a bit of a hard time getting back into the writing business. Thank you to those who push me to keep going and thanks to all who read it. I appreciate all the minutes that you have spent reading something that I wrote.

#duskwood jake #jake x mc #duskwood mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood everbyte #duskwood fandom #jake duskwood #iamjake #meet cute

[hannawinchester03]

IN ANOTHER GALAXY..

This is a regular imagine, as if you're part of the guardians of the galaxy! Mostly backstory but pt2 coming soon with more romantic and erotic scenes for sure!

Enjoy!

Here is the part 2!

Chapter contains: some flirtation, baby groot (obviously) , mom figure, death, family loss, drunk father, childhood trauma, and sarcasm

Word count: 1587

The year was 1989, Chicago Illinois. (Y/N) was 9 years old, she already was learning how to drive. "You gotta know your way around, who knows when you'll get lost, you always gotta find your way home." Her dad always told her, meaning this meant learning to drive earlier than most people and take care of what needed to be done.

(Y/N) didn't have much of a childhood, grew up faster than she would have liked but hey stuff happens.

It was a casual Friday night for (Y/N) same routine as usual, her dad goes out drinking and partying it up with his friends at the local bar. (Y/N) was used to it by now, it's been 3 years since her aunt passed away, her aunt was like a mother to her, her real mother passed away in child birth, but her dying wish was that her sister took care of (Y/N) like she was her own. Which she did, she took care of (Y/N) while her father drank to get over her mothers passing, but to them it seems he has never gotten over it, probably didn't help the fact that (Y/N) looked exactly like her mother.

(Y/N) remembers her aunt telling her stories of how the two sisters were thick as thieves together, always going out exploring the abandon houses, going to the woods, running through malls together when they were younger, even doing normal things like spending time with each other, like listening to music while they watched their parents dance. (Y/N) always wished that she had a sister or another sibling to play with and share memories with like her mother and aunt did.

"Your mom always wanted to have twins, she'd tell us she has a feeling that you were gonna be a twin, like Luke and leia.." (Y/N) was always told which made her sad at times that she was her mothers one and only child. There was a lot on the 9 year olds shoulders to say the least. (Y/N) always had vivid dreams of what is would be like to in space watching down on the world, making sure every child didn't need to go through what she did, it could have been much worse she always thought but the last 3 years for sure proved her wrong. It was worse, eating only once a week or not for weeks at a time.

It was around 10 pm on Friday, she was waiting for the house phone to ring, and hear the same words she heard every Friday night, the way the bartender would always call her asking to pick up her dad or call him a cab, they had little to no money so the only option was to learn to drive and pick him up herself. Little 9 year old (Y/N) who could barely see over the steering wheel driving at night listening to "my sweet lord- by George Harrison" was the last thing she remembered of her past life.

That was 15 years ago, "I really wanna see you, I really wanna be with you.." was the last thing she heard from the radio before the disaster struck, she watched as a child not much older then she was running through the main Street, then the child was gone only a light shinning down where they were last seen, causing (Y/N) to slam on the brakes and get out running after the light.

15 years later here she stood in the middle of platform floating the in the middle of the sky, standing next to a talking raccoon, a miniature tree that somehow talks but only could speak the three words "I am groot"and the only other person she knew of who was also from earth. A place she once knew so well and now it was just a fuzzy memory.

"Okay we gotta work fast, the others are going to meet us with the other materials. We just need that things heart.." Quill spoke as he looked around at the group mainly looking at (y/n) making her raise an eyebrow at him about to say something back but she was distracted as she heard a small. "I am groot" making her look down and smile softly as her attention was then quickly pulled away as rocket spoke up translating for them. "He says '(y/n) knows what she's doing' he's right, she wasn't born yesterday..like some people." Rocket stated as he lightly nudged (y/n) leg and gave her a small wink with the wrong eye as usual making her chuckle.

Quill rolled his eyes and was about to speak up but quickly got interrupted by the smaller aliens started bursting through a door running in their direction, He quickly stood in position in front of (y/n) to protect her making her roll her eyes as she moves around him grabbing groot propping him up on her shoulder so he wouldn't get stepped on as she held up the gun rocket had given her quickly shooting as many aliens as she could, as she reloaded she took over watching as the others took turns killing the monsters as they seems to keep coming.

"Look out, here comes the big one!" Quill shouted as he was reloading his weapon, (y/n) watched as an alien got to close to him so she quickly shot it and turned her attention to the bigger alien, she couldn't help but stare as it was almost double the side of the other aliens taking a step back as she focused on the multiple arms and hands the monster has, and how it had multiple eyes, she couldn't help but think about how she got into the situation.

"(y/n) just distract it! Whatever you do don't shoot its heart." Rocket called out as (y/n) nodded quickly running towards one of the higher platforms standing on top of it watching as it tried to grab her, shooting its hands away every-time watching as it stumbled back and quill got behind it shooting its head making the monster stumble back falling onto its back crying out in pain.

(y/n) watched as rocket threw a shock wave close to it stunning the alien so it would be in place for a minute or two, she nodded her head at rocket as she jumped down off the platform knowing the plan from here. She got out the laser that rocket has gived to her, she always though it looked kind of like a light saber, but always thought to herself since no one's from earth and they'll know what Star Wars is, she always told herself.

She got next to the beast and sliced clean across the aliens torso watching as it stopped breathing from the clean cut she had made, she watched as rocket climbed on top of the beast slicing its flesh and reached his hand in ripping out the heart. (y/n) couldn't help but stumble backwards as she could smelt a awful smell coming from monster as rocket held the heart up in the air.

(y/n)'s eyes lit up a bit as she now was able to see the heart, the thing they were going after. She could help but stare at it as it looked breath taking, it looked like a solid chunk of gold making her eyebrow go up as rocked stood up holding it proudly. "Great now we have the final part, let's go the others are probably already there." Rocket stated as he began walking back to the ship.

(y/n) let out a small huff still shocked, not that they had killed the monsters, she's used to that by now, considering she's been around it for the last 15 years. She snapped out of her thoughts as she still felt groot on the shoulder playing with some of her hair making her glance down at him.

"I am groot". He hummed out making her chuckle softly and toss some hair over his small head. "Maybe you need to grow out some hair. A nice green to brighten you up." she said back to the small plant making him smile and reply with a simple nod.

"I don't understand how you understand him.. doesn't it freak you out? A talking tree." Quill spoke up as he followed next to (y/n), she let out a small chuckle as groot continued to play with her hair wrapping small vines around her hair and she shrugged. "I mean he's still a person, he talks and has feelings why would it freak me out.." She stated back.

"Well maybe because you're from earth, how is this all normal to you." Quill responded as he walked up onto the space ships loading ramp. "Maybe it's because i wasn't born yesterday, after 15 years you learn to accept everything." She says as she followed behind him, once on the ship she sets groot down and smiles softly at him.

"We're in another galaxy, nothing surprises me anymore Peter." (y/n) states as she passed by quill heading to the main control room to meet up with rocket. "It's Star lord!" He cries out behind (y/n) making her and rocket laugh as they settle into their seats buckling up and (y/n) hums happily as groot comes and sit on her lap for the ride.

Hope y’all enjoyed, please feel free to leave comments, like and share with your friends!

I’m always open for suggestions or ideas so feel free to comment!

#peter quill #peter quill x you #peter quill x y/n #peter quill x reader #peter quill x fem!reader #peter quill fanfic #peter quill imagine #peter quill headcanons #fanfiction tips #guardians of the galaxy #marvel #fanfic #writing #female writers #writers and poets #writers on tumblr

[rachelsfav-queer]

AAAAAA SHIT!!!!

Okayyyyyyyy! I'm feeling angsty for some reason (probably cause I'm an idiot and keep listening to sad music) so I'm taking a break from my actual writing to get this out. I knew I couldn't not write it either cause it's just too good, but ITS SO HEARTBREAKING!!!!

I'm really sorry about this

(Note: I started this oneshot before I got the news last night, so obviously I'm in a much better mood lol)

It hadn't been long after Enid had passed that it started. Yoko was also gone, which left Wednesday alone, truly alone, for the first time in decades. The three of them had all grown into old age, even Yoko, who had found a spell to allow her to age with her wives, two people she could not stand to outlive.

And now, it's only Wednesday left, her genes allowing her a naturally longer lifespan. Well, at least, as long as the ones who held her heart lived. But now, she can feel her age catching up to her in the most brutal ways. Her mind, body, and soul are all withering quickly and without mercy.

Enid’s funeral was only two weeks after her passing, but by then, Wednesday was already in a wheelchair, barely capable of holding herself up even in the chair. It broke Bianca’s heart, the sight of her best friend suffering so deeply that it reflected completely on her physical body. And the pain wasn’t only present in her physical condition, but also emotionally. Nobody had seen Wednesday so utterly desolate in years. It was as if every last bit of her will to live had been torn from her.

And really, it was.

Everyone knew that when an Addams falls in love, they love with everything they have, all of their soul is dedicated to their chosen. It's how they're built, and it has its ups and downs. One of the worst cons is showing itself clear in Wednesday now.

She is degrading, every part of her. An Addams is truly nothing without the ones they love. It gets so bad that only a month after Enid's death, Wednesday is entirely reliant on others to stay alive and care for herself. Bianca does her best, but is ultimately helpless on her own, needing help from other friends and nurses. Especially because Wednesday simply doesn't speak anymore. The only sounds she makes are the tiniest grunts, and that's only ever in response to little Raven, who still speaks to her every day.

Little Raven, oh poor little Raven. She made a promise long ago to always be there for her best friend, and she is staying true to that promise. By now, she's long since figured out all the abilities she has as a spirit possessing a physical object. One of those abilities is to affect living beings around her, at least a bit. She uses this to ensure no one tries to separate her from Wednesday, nobody even gets the idea to do so with her influence. And so, the haunted plushie that has always remained by Wednesday's side throughout the entire time they've known each other stays posted right at Wednesday's side, sitting atop the bedside table.

One day, she's not sure why, but little Raven decides to finally tell Wednesday her story. It all starts with a soft chuckle, "You know, I used to know someone who was just like you, Wednesday. She was... everything." And little Raven tells the seer everything. From the moment she met her little sister, to the moment she finally met her. It was long and complicated, but somehow, little Raven knew the entire time that the seer was listening.

Eventually, little Raven finished. It was then that something beautiful happened. Wednesday, for the first time in so long, spoke. "Raffi," the seer's voice was weak as she spoke the name the spirit hadn't heard in a century, the name she had forgotten, but she heard it so clearly, and it shocked her thoroughly. "You're curious. I saw this, in a vision, when I first held you. A Boot-strap paradox, quite exhausting. You have... served me well, old friend. You protected me, you cared for me, and you have shown me all the love you had to give. Furthermore, you have given me comfort in the darkest of times, and it is my turn to return that comfort. You've done well, Raffi. But... my time here on this mortal plane is come to a close, and so is yours. You have no need to hold yourself here anymore, so please, forgive yourself. It's time to let go. As Enid and Yoko are waiting for me, so is Lovette waiting for you. It's time we meet them again. I love you, little Raven."

"We- Wednesday... Thank you. It has been such an honor, being your friend. I love you too, Wednesday. Good night."

And so, in that lonely old mansion, two spirits, two best friends, leave together onto their final adventure. When Bianca enters the room again and sees her friend has passed, she oddly feels at peace. As if some huge weight has been lifted from the very walls of the house itself. And Bianca sees the raven plushie, and she can't quite describe it for a while, the stuffed animal almost seems to be missing something. But eventually, she realizes, and she smiles, “So long, little Raven. It was nice to meet you. Goodbye Wednesday, you finally got that splash of color you needed.” With that, the siren sets the plushie atop Wednesday’s chest and leaves a final kiss on the seer’s forehead, leaving her to finally rest.

End <3

(Little Raven + her sister’s name reveal???)

(This is what I had on repeat while finishing this lol)

#my writing #vampravenwolf #wednesday addams #bianca barclay #little raven #very sad #tw death #bittersweet #happy ending #ish #massive tearjerker #Spotify #vampravenwolf essentials

[desertleviathan]

Ok so last night the tale of the time I fought a guy in a Kentucky Fried Chicken came up again. Maybe because I brought it up, because I enjoy telling the story, sue me. But the circumstances/format were not conducive to telling the tale then, so I'll spell it all out now. Strap the fuck in. There are three parts.

ACT 1

When I was in my early 20s I took a job on the night shift at a Burger King. A few months after I started, the breakfast shift manager got caught stealing from the safe and was fired. I barely knew the guy, and had only covered shifts for coworkers that lead to my schedule overlapping with his on a couple of occasions. During those encounters he seemed like he was at about the expected threshold of sketchy and unstable for an over-50 Burger King Shift Manager, which is to say pretty fuckin weird, but I did not realize until later just how deep the rabbit hole went.

(If you are also an over-50 Burger King Shift Manager, please know that you are valid and I adore you, but let's not lie to each other, you are probably a pretty vibrant shade of eccentric and that's OK, fly your freak flag as high as you can get away with without endangering your employment.)

After he was fired, we adjusted to his sudden absence by moving the mid shift manager moved to breakfast shift and the night shift manager to mid shift, and because I was the least complete fuckup on the night shift I got promoted to be the new night shift manager. I accepted the position without knowing this would place me in the crosshairs of the former breakfast shift manager, whose name I will henceforth abbreviate as R.

A few weeks after he was fired for stealing from the Burger King, he was hired by the McDonalds down the street. And then a week or two after that, he was fired from the McDonalds for stealing from their safe. He assumed that someone at the Burger King must have conspired to defame him, but the more likely reason he was caught stealing from their safe was that he had zero subtlety or finesse, and also since he was the newest employee to be granted access to the safe, they probably looked at security camera footage of him first when a bunch of money went missing. I base my assessment of his elite thief skills on the fact that three members of the kitchen crew at the BK independently observed him taking money out of the safe and putting it in his pocket and reported him without consulting each other. I can't imagine his skills became much more refined by the time he arrived and then departed the McDonalds.

We didn't find any of this out from the McDonalds though. There were zero lines of communication between the Burger King and the McDonalds. Not because of any kind of professional rivalry, we weren't like... two Houses Alike In Dignity, you know? We were just… two different businesses with two different owners and no employees who knew each other, a city block away from each other, and it would have been vaguely embarrassing for any of us to eat at the other location in our respective uniforms. At least, none of us knew each other until R named a bunch of people from both the BK and the McD in a defamation lawsuit, and then we started comparing notes: the general managers and assistant managers of the two stores, the respective franchise owners, the BK and McD parent corporations, all the employees on the BK breakfast shift, all the employees on the McD breakfast shift, and then at the end of the filing, my name as the only BK night shift employee who was singled out as part of the alleged conspiracy. As far as we could tell he thought that because I had received a promotion as a direct consequence of his firing, that meant that I had the most motive to topple him from his lofty throne in the first place, and therefore must have been involved somehow.

That was the first and last time I'd ever been named in a lawsuit and I panicked. But some of the breakfast shift people who knew R better caught word that I was stressing out and took the time to explain that frivolous lawsuits were kind of his thing. Indeed, fees relating to unsuccessful frivolous lawsuits were probably a key motivating factor behind the thefts. He seemed to be addicted to taking wild shots in the dark at huge corporations in the hopes that one of them would eventually pay off. The breakfast shift knew that R's lawsuit was going to last exactly as long as he could pay his lawyer, and since he was now super bonus round double-unemployed, that wouldn't be long. True to their prediction, we didn't hear squat until BK Corporate's lawyers sent word reassuring us that the whole thing had been dropped.

I did not encounter R again for three more years. END ACT 1

------

ACT 2 I lasted 8 months as a BK shift manager before the general manager (who was an absolute delight) decided to quit and change career paths, and she turned out to have been the load-bearing pillar keeping the entire rest of the staff from leaving. Over 80% of the employees at that store left in a month, and the turnover after that remained volatile enough that eventually the franchise closed the location. It's the parking lot of a bowling alley now.

A couple years after I left the BK, I was out doing some shopping. I can't remember why exactly but I was on the side of town that I didn't normally haunt, so it was still fairly nondescript American suburbs but it was like... ooh, fast food places other than the ones that are within walking distance of my house! Exciting! One of them was a combination KFC/A&W, and the appeal of a root beer float managed to narrowly win vs. the distrust I felt for the chicken.

I stepped inside. I examined the menu. I heard a tormented voice howl "YOU!" and looked down to see R behind the cash register, wearing the uniform of a KFC employee. He seemed to be trying to launch himself over the countertop in some kind of ninja side kick, but he was a fucked up old man whose opinion of his level of physical fitness was out of sync with the actual capabilities of his body. He sort of rolled over the countertop far slower than it would have been if he'd just gone around the side, then lunged at me swinging his closed fist at my face.

I was not, at this stage of my life, in great shape. But once upon a time I'd been relatively athletic. I'd played Hockey. I'd studied Martial Arts (some of which weren't fake). And I'd been kind of a scrappy teen in general, in a fair number of fights. So I had some moves, and my body remembered them even if my mind was too bewildered by these circumstances.

Also, I was about half a foot taller than R and 80 lbs. heavier. I genuinely don't know what the hell he was thinking. Even if I hadn't sidestepped his punch, I doubt it would have done more than maybe knock my glasses off. But he missed entirely, I ducked in low, and I connected my knuckles to his gut in easily the most satisfying display of good punching form I've ever experienced in or out of the dojo.

My moment of Kung Fu Badass exultation was brief. He dropped to his knees making a noise like his whole body was trying to flip the fuck inside out, and I was like "Ohhhh shit I killed R, he's dying, he's gonna die, and then I'm going to jail."

Fortunately there was a restaurant full of bemused witnesses who saw him scream at me and swing first. One of the other employees called the cops, everyone gave their statements, and I, not R, was given the option to press charges.

I declined. Dude's life was fucked up enough, and it seemed very likely he was about to be fired again. The KFC manager who had arrived around when the cops got there was like "Uh.. do you... want a free meal?" and in an out-of-body haze I ordered my food to go, then left to eat in a nearby park where everyone wouldn't be staring at me.

And then the adrenaline crashed out of my system and I became instantly queasy, with nowhere to barf except the KFC bag that had all my food inside of it.

It occurs to me writing this now that I was in a park full of grass and bushes and garbage cans and actually any number of other places to safely vomit. But I was not in my right mind. That fight or flight head rush can get powerful even in a completely non-threatening altercation, let me tell you.

END ACT 2

-----

ACT 3

Many more years passed, but I was still living in the same town. I was now employed performing tech support for a small regional telecommunications company, with a particular focus on our IPTV product back when that was relatively new tech, before pretty much every cable company switched to that delivery format. So when people had IPTV complaints that were weirder than normal, the rest of tech support bounced them up to me.

One day another customer service agent got a call from a customer, and from the sound of it this was a person who hadn't paid their bill in a while and was upset that their service had been shut off. Many people would invent a bunch of unverifiable service complaints under these circumstances in order to try to convince us to restore their service for free. "Why should I pay for it when it hasn't been working right? Now turn it back on immediately so it can... uh... continue to not work, as far as you know", that sort of thing. Often the stories customers would concoct under these circumstances involved the IPTV equipment behaving in wild and fantastical ways that did not map at all to any documented bugs, glitches, or service outages, so I wasn't surprised when the other agent transferred the call to me.

The other agent was giving me a warm hand-off, so she had the customer on hold while she explained the situation and we looked over the account. The customer had our full IPTV package. All the premium channels, multiple set top boxes, all with DVR capability. The maximum number of DVR-capable set top boxes that could be physically connected back to the fiber portal, in fact. And bundled with the top tier fiber internet package, and a VoIP phone as a kind of fun garnish.

Quite literally there were no additional services we could have upgraded this customer to. They already had everything. Everything. Leading to a monthly bill approaching $200/month.

And with a history of late payments going back the entire two and a half year duration of the account. This customer signed up for everything they conceivably could, then immediately failed to pay for it. There had been service interruptions due to the Collections department shutting things down for nonpayment like clockwork every two months. The customer would fail to pay for one month, get dinged with a late fee, wouldn't pay for another month, get dinged with another late fee, we'd turn off services, they'd call in and pay both months plus both late fees plus the expedited turning your service back on fee, every single time. The billing tickets showed we offered on multiple occasions to set this customer up for automatic payments, but they declined.

So there were Billing tickets lined up like there was a calendar appointment for it, but zero Tech Support tickets. That was weird. Everyone called tech support at some point, even if it was just to ask for a new remote control because they'd embedded so much peanut butter and cheeto dust in the old remote that the buttons wouldn't depress any more.

So if this customer was going to try to pretend to have problems to get out of a bill, this was the first time it had occurred to them to do so, and that was why the first customer service agent was transferring the call to me. The problems being described weren't entirely implausible for once, and would have been well within her skill level to resolve under typical circumstances, but I was slightly more likely to be able to prove conclusively whether or not they were being fabricated. Having had the conundrum explained to me, I was ready to take over and had the other agent transfer the call.

And then the voice on the other end of the line was unmistakably R's. This was a surprise because the first name on the account started with a J. But the surname was the same, and it was distinct enough that I surmised that J must have been his first name and he had been going by his middle name in person. So while he was complaining that we'd disconnected him again, I quickly went digging through the account all the way back to the very first ticket with a scan of his original contract attached to it, and verified this theory with his signature.

I was not comfortable at all handling this man's billing complaint, having previously been attacked by him in a Kentucky Fried Chicken and been targeted by him in a frivolous lawsuit. But I knew he was a volatile weirdo, and he was already agitated from having been transferred once. So I asked him a few quick questions about his alleged technical issues, and it became immediately very clear to me that he was 10,000% full of shit, but in a way that would have eluded the notice of the first representative, because I had access to something she didn't.

Specifically, I had the access to log into his panoply of DVRs and see that they had recordings that had matched the time periods he claimed he'd had complete service outages for. I mean each individual DVR, and he had six of them, was recording non-stop during the alleged outages, and furthermore I could stream the recordings from his DVRs to my desktop to verify that the recordings were good and there were no freezing or compression issues.

One DVR seemed to record everything that was on HBO, one everything on Showtime, one everything on Cinemax, etc., going through all the Premium Channels. And then judging by the file history, I'm pretty sure he would go through when they got full and delete anything that wasn't a movie with bare naked titties in it. He was a class act, R. I almost wanted to explain to him how he could very easily set the DVR only to catch specific shows, and how to use the parental control options (of all things) to search specifically for shows with nudity warnings, which I still feel would have been a clever subversion of the intended use, but my desire to not interact with him in any way was so much more powerful than my desire to do a good job.

I can't remember how exactly I got him off the phone, but I promised him he'd get a call back with an update in half an hour or less. And then I went to my manager and I explained that this man was 1.) trying to bullshit us to get out of his $~200 bill, and 2.) that this was the same guy I'd fought in the KFC.

My manager knew that story because she had been a friend of mine as well as my next door neighbor for a couple of years before I started working in her department, and of course I had told the story of fighting a guy in a KFC while we were both at a neighborhood gathering, why the fuck wouldn't I?

She agreed with me that it was not ideal for me to handle any of R's calls about any subject, and a note was added to his account that any IPTV issues that would have normally been escalated to me should be sent over to my manager instead. And then, since we were also a phone company and fairly savvy about these kinds of things, we set up a filter in the call center software that would ensure his future calls didn't ring to my phone.

My manager called him back within the 30 minute time limit. She told him flat out that we had proof he hadn't experienced a service interruption on the date claimed. He argued with her for about an hour until she credited him one half of a month of service because it was her prerogative to do so in the name of making a problem disappear. She also told the Collections team the whole story, including the fact that I had fought this man in a KFC. The Collections team thought this was hilarious, because obviously they weren't R's biggest fans to start with.

About eight months passed, and he continued to miss payments on the regular schedule. But eventually he decided to try his luck at inventing fake tech support issues again. The agent who fielded the call caught him in the lie without any extra help this time, because I'd taken the time to give everyone else in the department access to the DVR recording lookup trick.

R asked to be transferred to the manager. He tried arguing with her again, but she wasn't having it this time and told him flatly that his initial one year contract was over, and while it was normally our policy to continue service on a month-to-month basis after that contract duration, that we had had enough trouble getting him to pay that if he was late again we were going to permanently terminate services.

He demanded instead to speak to her manager. But that was the VP over the entire customer service team, and when he was asked if he wanted to waste his time by fielding the call personally he was like "LOL no", so instead at the VP's direction the manager of the Commercial Tech Support team agreed to pretend to be the next boss up the chain and she handled the call instead.

And this is where the dude went berserk apeshit, beyond even straight up attacking a big sasquatch lookin' guy like me in a KFC.

He told the Commercial Tech Support Manager that if we didn't turn on his service right away, he would sue us for breach of contract, somehow leverage that lawsuit into taking over ownership of our entire company, and fire all of us. He described in detail how he would use his vast and terrible influence to ruin us forever, ensuring that none of us could get jobs anywhere else ever again, and that we would all wind up starving to death in a gutter while he stood over us and laughed. I listened to the recording later and it was straight up supervillain monologue shit.

The Commercial Tech Support Manager, accustomed to dealing with a much larger scale of problem, was unimpressed by a guy who wanted her to think he was some kind of awe-inspiring financial wizard despite the fact that he had never paid his damn cable bill on time in two and a half years. She reiterated the Residential Tech Support Manager's original position that under no circumstances were we going to turn his service back on unless he paid in full, and if timely payments continued to be a problem, we would terminate his service permanently.

So R escalated his rhetoric.

He made a number of opinions known about what a woman should be doing with her life instead of "pretending to know anything about technology", all of these beliefs as repulsive as they were explicit. And he declared just as explicitly that he was going to come down to our HQ and "bring [his] gun" to "straighten out all you mouthy bitches."

Keep in mind, he didn't even know that I worked here. R was apparently just this aggro with everyone.

The Commercial Tech Support manager hung up on him on the spot, informed the front desk to lock down the entrance and vacate the lobby, emailed the whole company to keep away from windows, and called the police.

Pro tip: when the helpful menu at the beginning of a call says that it "may be recorded", that means means it "is definitely being 100% automatically being recorded, and will be archived indefinitely." Don't threaten to shoot up a company obviously, but especially not while you're on the phone with their tech support. We had a copy of the recording emailed to the police department within minutes of the call ending.

I got to spend the rest of that shift sitting in the office of the president of the company, watching a live security camera feed of the sidewalks in front of the building, because I was the only person who knew R on sight. Which meant that I also got to tell the president of the company how I knew R on sight, which was to say I got to confess to the owner of the whole damn company that once I had brawled with this man in a Kentucky Fried Chicken like some kind of sketch comedy parody of my South Florida origins.

The cops went out to R's place and found that he hadn't left yet, but he had looked up our office location.

He claimed he had never had any such conversation.

They already had the audio recording.

They found a loaded gun in his jacket.

So, you know, they arrested him. I would have been surprised by their efficiency, but R hadn't just threatened individuals, he had threatened a corporation. He had threatened commerce.

While I had declined to press charges years before in the KFC, my company felt no such mercy. But before legal proceedings could begin in earnest, R made bail, abandoned the house he was renting (which it turned out was three blocks from our office) and vanished.

And that was the last I ever heard of R, I think 12-13 years ago now.

A part of me sincerely hopes he got treatment for whatever the hell was going on in his head, but if I find out instead that he got hit by a bus I doubt I'll shed any tears over it.

END ACT 3

FIN

[yourneighborhoodneighbor]

fear has nothing

(masterpost to my fics while ao3 is down) AO3

fic under the cut

One of the most annoying things about fear, about panic, was that there was no space for logic in it. Sure, sometimes logic could align to the fear, but that was always by mere coincidence, and definitely not something fear cared about. 

See, Neil knew, logically, that his father was dead. Lola was dead, and his mother was dead, and Riko was dead, and they could never cause him or his harm ever again because of their aforementioned status as dead. Neil knew this for certain, he had seen it happen.

One part of his brain knew this, logically.

Unfortunately, another part of his brain, the lizard-panic brain he liked to call it, to make himself feel better, simply could not get with the program. Hence why he was currently on the floor sobbing, barely able to breath, much less say anything with any sort of coherency to Andrew on the phone pressed to his ear.

It had started out as a good day, hell, he had had a great week. Training had been going well, and thus it was extra relaxing for Neil, who didn't have to worry about much fighting. Not his business, not his problem. His classes had also been going amazing, more interesting and stimulating now that he had swapped over to a math major instead of languages. 

Him and Andrew were also doing great, slowly growing more and more comfortable with more and more things with one another. Just the other day Andrew had held his hand on the way to the central campus for their classes, the first time he had done that outside of the safety of their aloneness with each other.

Neil had also started seeing Betsy. He still wasn't sure how Andrew had managed to convince him to do that, but despite his remaining uneasiness, he found that therapy actually did help. Shocker.

And as a last bright point, his relationship with Aaron was improving greatly. They actually could not only stand each other now, but even took the time to hang out together, just the two of them, at least once a week. Andrew had been a bit tense about the development at first, but with time seemed to grow disinterested again, though both Neil and Aaron, whose relationship with Andrew also kept getting better and better every day, knew the knife-wielding twin was actually quite pleased by the development. 

So yeah, Neil was doing great. He was actually doing amazing.

It was then very frustrating when, after being woken up softly by Andrew to let him know that he and Aaron were leaving for that thing they had to do and getting a soft kiss to his forehead as a goodbye, Neil couldn't get back to sleep.

It was the weekend, so they were at the house in Columbia, just the three of them. Kevin was spending father-son time with Coach, and Nicky had gone with the upperclassmen to some concert from a band named Morat happening near Palmetto. Andrew had entrusted his cousin with Renee after seeing how excited Nicky was for it and allowing him to go alone, or at least, without any of them. Even if he never admitted it, Neil knew Andrew was incredibly caring towards the people he considered his. It never stopped to amaze him how much Andrew cared for other people. And some still somehow called him a monster.

Neil wasn't sure why the twins needed to do what they had to do at three in the morning, but it wasn't really his business. He would see them again in the afternoon anyway, and he would probably spend most of his time alone sleeping.

Or that had been his plan, at least.

After saying goodbye to Andrew and Aaron, Neil had tried to go back to sleep, but found he couldn't manage it.

It started as a low and distant uneasiness, and at first Neil couldn't even recognize what was causing it. He spent about half an hour just laying on the bed, feeling both like his mind was having too many thoughts and not at all. It felt like he was in a fish bowl, thoughts and sensations passing through outside the glass. 

Eventually, the feeling grew so much he could finally recognize what was wrong. For some reason, Neil's mind was screaming at him with increasing urgency that someone was going to break into the house. Someone was going to hurt him. They were maybe even in the house right now, and he was doing nothing but laying. 

He spent some more time still on the bed after the realization, trying to convince himself that no one had ever broken in before, and they certainly hadn't broken in right now, he would have heard it. And even if they did, he was not helpless. Andrew had left him some of his knives, and if Neil knew anything it was how to use one. 

After a while of trying to put his fears to rest with rational thoughts, he decided he needed a more active approach and stood up, quickly turning the light in the room on. He quickly checked every place a person could reasonably be hiding in, and even some where they couldn't. Finished with his sweep of the room, he moved out towards the rest of the house, turning on every light, checking every corner and crevice, behind curtains and under the couch, in the bathroom and inside the kitchen cabinets. No place in the house was left unseen, and no window or door was left unchecked for being locked. 

Nodding once harshly to himself, having jus made sure, absolutely sure, that there was in fact no one in the house, Neil turned all the lights off on his way back to his room, checking the locks on his path one last time. He had managed to calm marginally down. 

Neil layed on the bed again, back stuck to the wall this time, knives under his pillow—  Andrew´s pillow— and tried to close his eyes. He had just checked the house, there was no one there, he was fine. 

…

He wasn't fine. Neil noticed his breathing getting shallower, slower, quieter. Making it harder for someone to hear and find. He was stock still, his lizard-panic brain convinced that any movement, even blinking, was going to make sure he was found.

Dammit! He had literally just checked the house, there was one there, he was FINE!

He was starting to feel more and more like he was enveloped in fog. He knew he wouldn't be able to calm down while the darkness still enveloped the house, maybe not even then, not on his own, not without pain. He needed to call Andrew.

Alright, he could do that. His phone was charging on his nightstand, he only needed to lean forward a bit and stretch his arm and he would have it in his hand. It wouldn't take more than a second. He just needed to move his arm.

He couldn't move his arm. Neil realized that his breathing had gone down even more, his body trying to become completely unnoticeable, his mind was like syrup and fog and the damn fishbowl all at once, and he couldn't move. It wasn't that there was something wrong physically, by all means, he could produce movement, but he just…couldn't. 

Neil spent what to him felt like an eternity, time struggling to pass through the foggy-fishbowl-syrup of his mind, trying and screaming at himself to move.

Wind came through the small opening in the hallway bathroom window, which they never fully closed, since it was covered by a strong metal mosquito mesh now. Pushed by the gust of wind, something fell.

The logical part of Neil's brain told him it was most likely the almost empty bottle of conditioner, light enough in its emptiness to be pushed down by the air. Neils' currently dominating lizard-panic brain screamed at him that someone was there, in the house, right now. His father was there. his father had come back to hurt him again. 

Instantly Neil felt his arms go completely numb from the elbows  and knees down, feeling completely lost to him, not even a tingle left behind. Neil knew he needed to move, warring sides of his brain saying that he needed to calm down, that he was safe, or that he needed to do something to protect himself. Both sides agreed on just one thing: he needed to call Andrew.

If no one was there, he needed to call Andrew before his panic spiraled even more out of control. If his father really was there, he needed to call Andrew, so he knew to get help, get the police, the FBI, he didn't care, just anyone who might get there in time to stop his father killing him for real this time. Either way, he desperately, desperately and selfishly wanted Andrew there. But first he needed to move to get to his phone.

Like a flipped switch, he passed from not even breathing in effort to hide himself to bursting into action. With the feeling in his limbs still lost, he yanked his phone from the night stand and barrelled toward the bedroom door, clicking the lock in place and then turning the light on in one fluid movement.

Immediately he fell to the floor on his ass, knees pressed to his chest and phone held tightly in unshaking hands. Neil knew the only reason he wasn't shaking was because he was too tense, ready for a fight, ready to do anything it took to survive. and for that he needed steady hands.

One, two, three breaths in, Neil managed to quickly click Andrew´s contact on his phone, holding it up to his ear.

It rang only once before the phone on the other end was picked up.

“Junkie.” Andrew´s voice immediately felt like a weight on top of Neil, helping to tether him back into his mind a bit, passing through the syrupy fog with ease. 

“Andrew.” Neil's voice sounded incredibly calm, abnormally calm even to his own ears. He still wasn't shaking. He was fine. There was actually no one in the house. He was safe.

“Why are you awake at five in the morning, Josten? I thought you were going to sleep,” — Aarons voice cut through the silence Neil had unknowingly fallen back into. They were in the car, then, Andrew driving. It had probably been Aaron who had answered the phone, putting him on speaker. Neil didn't care, it was a relief to hear both voices.

“I couldn't fall back asleep. I tried, but I felt uneasy. Part of my brain is convinced someone is going to break in,” Neil started. Part of me is convinced someone is going to hurt me, Neil didn't say, but knew was heard. He continued his tirade without stopping, words spewing out of him without hope of stopping now that he could talk.

“I tried to do what Bee told me. I tried to use reason to counter my unease. I even got up and turned on every light in the house. I checked every nook and cranny and lock, and there is no one in the house. I tried to go back to sleep. I thought I was going to calm down. I tried, I really tried, but then something fell in the bathroom, and I was sure my father was-” Neil choked on the words, only now realizing he voice was getting faster and higher as his panic started to unravel him. His hands, his whole body started shaking, and he was startled by the loud sob that left his mouth.

As if that first sob was all his body needed, Neil started to cry, choking on sobs and wailing, unable to stop himself no matter how hard he tried.

“I know it's not rational, I tried everything I could think of to stop, but I- I-” Neil's sobs getting louder and his breathing shorter, his throat constricting, taking his words away from him. He could barely think, barely breath, much less talk. He fisted his free hand in his hair, pulling tightly, rocking back and forth, his body wound up in such a tight ball that all his muscles hurt.

“-eil. Neil. Abram.” Andrew´s steady voice cut through the blind panic, reminding Neil he was on the phone. He was still sobbing, but managed to give a low whine to let the other know he could hear him.

“Neil. Neil Abram Josten. Your father is dead, he cannot hurt you. You know this. You did good. You said you checked the house. Have you checked what fell in the bathroom yet?” Andrew was offering Neil comfort, a reminder, and a task. A way for Neil to ground himself back .

“Mm-mm” Neil got out, unable still to talk through the unrelenting force of his sobs. He didn't think he had ever cried this hard before, never really being safe enough to do so. That was a passing thought that Neil knew he would marvel at later.

“Go check, Neil. And close the window afterwards,” the instructions came from the phone. The next few minutes were filled with Aaron telling Neil something he had learned in biology class, which passed right through Neil, but he Knew the sound was just meant to distract him, to fill the space and remind him he wasn't completely alone while they all waited for Neil to be ready to get up off the floor.

Neil's sobs slowly tapering off, leaving behind sniffles and occasional whimpers. If it wasn't Andrew and Aaron on the line, Neil would have been mortified. As it was, he just marveled at the knowledge that he even had someone to call now, and had people he was safe to cry around, as impossible and unreal as it felt.

Neil managed to unwind himself from his tight ball, standing up and unlocking the door, taking a breath before opening it and stepping into the hallway. Turning on every light in his way, Neil made it to the bathroom, and immediately started crying again.

“Neil? What happened, did you find what fell?” Andrew said, having noticed from the rustling on the phone that Neil had moved. 

“I can't see what fell. Nothing is out of place!” Neil managed to choke out through his new bout of sobs. This was supposed to help him calm down, but instead it was just freaking him out more. Feeling as raw and vulnerable as he was and knowing that the two on the other end of the line wouldn't use it against him, he softly left out an “I'm scared .”

“Alright. Josten, that's alright. Can you go to my room?” Aaron asked. Neil let out a breathy noise of assent.

“Okay, good, that's good. My laptop is on my desk, my charger as well. I want you to take them back to your room and lock the door again.” Aaron ordered. Neil did as told, all the while managing to calm his crying down again, now only silent tears and the occasional light keen leaving him.

“Now what,” he said once he was back on his and Andrew´s bed, door locked and light on.

“Now you put on a cartoon, Junkie. You will not try to sleep again. You will stay on the line, and will grace us with live commentary about the singing animals or whatever. You will get the water bottle off my desk and drink it whole. And in a few hours, you will see us again,” Andrew stated with a tone of indisputable finality. It helped Neil calm down more, hearing Andrew speak with such certainty that any danger there could have been was gone, that all he needed to do right now was watch a silly movie, that he could take the time to watch a silly movie.

Neil put a movie on, drank the water and wiped his face and blew his nose, settling on the bed with the laptop on his legs and the phone in his hand. 

Halfway through the movie, when the sun had already started to come out, Neil felt better than he had and considered he was alright to hang up the call. he communicated this to the twins, who made sure to tell him in no uncertain terms that he was expected to call again should so much as a wisp of panic happen again. After agreeing to call in case anything happened, Neil hung up and finished his movie.

After the movie he came out of his room, opening all the curtains in the house to let the light in, checking the whole house again for good measure, but way calmer this time.

As he was eating breakfast, Neil contemplated everything that had just happened. He knew

fear was more often than not irrational, and he knew this was more likely to happen again than not, but as awful as the whole experience was, he couldn't help but be filled with warmth as the unequivocal truth that he had someone to call when that happened, that he had someone who cared and wanted to help him, settled deep inside him. 

He had never thought that he would ever have that, had never even thought that was something to be had, and yet here he was. Alive and loved and cared for. The thought was almost too much to bear, but Neil found he didn't mind bearing it.

Fear would probably never leave Neil, but he had the means to deal with it now. After all, fear might have no space for logic, but fear also had nothing in the face of love and care and support.

#aftg #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #fanfiction #my fics #yourneighborhoodneighbor

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Vintage

An AU Somewhere Else - part of the Magnus Monsterverse series.

Spoilers for the whole podcast.

I stared.

Peter was older. Harder. Still as a rock and distinctly unfriendly. This was a Peter who had ended the world, and not found it to his liking when his god fed on him at the last. Did he know that I had…

"So I supposed that makes us even, if I understand correctly from Martin’s tale?” he said, still sounding just as chipper and utterly charming as he’d always been (such a lie, such shiny scales on a venomous snake), which was unnerving from a face like stone, which was—

I knew.

I knew exactly how he'd killed me.

AO3

---------

We watched Face Off. We ate popcorn. We laughed. I remained baffled as to the state of the entertainment industry.

Tim went home. We still weren’t good, but this helped.

I stayed in Martin’s flat.

We rested. We knew peace.

#

I absolutely blew off the rest of the week. Physical therapy and counseling sessions were required with Sasha, but I hardly minded those. I returned to my apartment literally to grab clothing and my toothbrush. There wasn’t anything else there that belonged to me, and even those things barely did.

(What kind of a god has to brush their teeth? It was obvious nonsense. I was a monster, not a god.)

Was I allowed to stay with Martin? I did not give a damn, neither did he, and nobody tried to stop me.

I knew I had things to do, decisions on the horizon. I’d need to find a job. I’d need to talk to Manuela. I’d need to determine what my future would be.

Right now, I still barely felt like a person. I had Martin, but I would not ask him to fill my life. That wouldn’t be fair to him, or healthy for either of us.

I also needed to make friends with Martin’s friends. I’d never been good at that; but he was right—no one else in this world could understand what I’d been through, my decisions and my regrets, my shock and fear of my undeserved second chance.

That involved actually hanging out with them, which I had yet to do. Martin hadn’t pushed; I watched, though, as they all did hang out.

There was some kind of grouping out in the courtyard every single night. Sometimes just a couple of people (often Jane—to whom I still needed to speak—and Sarah), and sometimes larger collections. Sometimes someone produced foldable tables, and they enjoyed a picnic atmosphere—multiple faces I’d known, or known through statements, laughing and chatting over red plastic cups like they were just people.

People who had, I’d come to know, not only ended their worlds, but also, all killed me or seen me killed.

I was so afraid.

#

Therapy was… interesting.

I admitted to still losing myself once in a while. Martin put up with me, my panting moments of terror, my slips when I stared into space, seeing things that were not here. With my tears when I came out of those moments, gasping like a fish.

I… admitted I missed my own personal hell, just a little.

This new life was better in every way, but the Eye had made that for me, and the security of knowing everything and parsing nothing carried its own brand of peace.

False peace. I would not go back.

I still missed it.

“Normal,” Sasha told me during our sessions. “Everyone misses it—the power. The completion. I remember that, too. Our Fears rewarded us… until we were all that was left, and we became the meal.”

I could only nod along there. I couldn’t answer. The Eye hadn’t done that to me.

I had not been fed on. Obviously It had stayed solvent somehow, but I hadn’t suffered. Was I wrong? Were some of the others lying?

I couldn’t be unique in this. That was nonsense. The Eye was one of the Dread Powers. Others among this community had ended the world for the Eye (including three Gerry Keays—all of whom, I had been told, opted out of everything and moved to different continents to get away from us and each other).

The Eye had fed on them. Or they’d said It had.

I had so many questions. Seeking answers put me in danger. I didn’t know what to do.

#

In Martin’s mailbox, we both received an invitation. Formal, embossed on thick paper, it cordially urged us to attend Mike Crew’s birthday party.

It would be held at the Lukases’ home.

Peter Lukas existed here.

“I killed him in my life,” I whispered, “and I did that because he kidnapped you!”

“I know. I was there,” he said patiently, having already worked through the madness of a mirrored universe. “This one hasn’t done anything to me, though.”

I flung my arms in the air. “How can you be fine with this?”

“You know why.” He took advantage of my opening to slide his arms around me, pressing me to his chest. “They’re not in bed with Leitner. They don’t have Solus Shipping. They’re not even shitty landlords, believe it or not—the way they feed the Lonely is by leasing enormous apartments for reasonable prices with the caveat that you can’t have roommates, spouses, or even pets. One person, rattling around like a pea in a can. Completely by choice. They can leave whenever; they often don’t, choosing lower rent over community, and that’s enough to feed the Lonely in this place. That’s how they do it.”

“They can leave?”

“Yes. The leases are only six months.”

It sounded too good to be true. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can. Besides, it’s for Mike, and I want you to get to know him. He’s not bad.”

“He’s a sociopath,” I pointed out.

“Yes, he is,” said Martin. “But that doesn’t make him evil. Besides—we’re all a little broken.”

“Says the water-breathing man to the man made of eyeballs,” I muttered. “I suppose you’re right.”

He nuzzled me. “We won’t be there long.”

“This is so… surreal,” I said. I only felt that more strongly when Martin showed me the gift he’d picked up. “When did you get that?”

“Months ago,” he said.

“I really am stepping into a show ‘already in progress,’ aren’t I?”

“I swear, it’s a good thing. We’ve already worked out all the hard stuff.”

I doubted that.

I let Martin unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt (scandalous), and off we went.

#

Their home was in central London, on Acacia road, nothing like the Moorland House in Kent, and I was completely unprepared for it.

It was smaller, for one thing (about six thousand square feet, the Eye informed me, and only seven bedrooms).

The front was inviting red brick and ordinary windows; it was surrounded by greenery and not quite enough parking. Similar homes sat all around, in full view. Some had been chopped up into flats; others still held single families, judging by the toys and occasional playsets.

It was a far cry from the cold mausoleum the Lukases of my world owned. Also, there was no sign of a graveyard.

Jared dropped us off in front, tipped his hat, and left.

Music pounded through the windows. I swore I could feel it in my feet.

“Steady,” said Martin.

I was very steady. I was rock-solid. I was seeing the Lonely sliding over this place like some sentient ooze, a washed-out sea-foam green, far more active than I could understand, and yet far more weak.

It was different. How could it be so different?

“Uh,” I said.

Martin waited.

I knew, at that moment, that if I wanted to go home, he’d go with me. He’d abandon however much time and effort he’d spent building up a rapport here, and he’d go with me.

But this had cost him. I couldn’t do that. “All right,” I whispered.

He looked so relieved that I felt guilty for hesitating. “Thank you,” he said,  held me tight, and  rang the doorbell.

#

For the life of me, I don’t know who answered it.

A person. Someone who smiled blandly and possibly had a gender, though they may have not, leaving only an impression of pale skin and ash-blond hair and eyes the color of meltwater. I couldn’t even recall their voice the moment we turned away. I believe we were welcomed inside?

Copy and paste that several times, and you have the Lukases in cameo.. They managed to be more identical than the actual doubles of people where I lived.

A bizarre gathering. Mike was there, of course, and as striking in this crowd as the lightning that scarred him. He was slightly drunk, and flirting outrageously with everybody.

When he succeeded with a Lukas, they briefly came into focus—winter colors blushing pink, pulse starting up again like an engine revving. A game. He was playing a game, and since it was his birthday, they were letting him. Utterly outré. I didn’t even—

“Well, if it isn’t the newest member of the family!” Mike proclaimed, looking right at me.

There was nothing quite like a dozen unreadable faces, identical sets of blue eyes, looking toward me, and feeling completely, utterly isolated when they did. The Lonely may have been different here, but it was no less effective. “Hi, Mike. Um. May I call you Mike?”

He snorted. “Uh, yeah. I think we’re past that. Come here, buddy.” And then before I had a chance to protest, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulled me in, and pressed a glass into my hand. “Drink that,” he said.

I eyed it. “What is this?”

“What, you don’t just know?” he teased.

For the life of me, I could not tell if I were being mocked, or if he were genuinely asking. However, the Eye was ready to tell me. So eager. Practically bouncing like a child in my head, though that image made absolutely no sense.

Fuck it. It was just a cocktail. “It’s a boulevardier. It first appeared in Paris, detailed  in American expatriate bartender Harry McElhone’s 1927 guide, Barflies and Cocktails, but over time became credited to and associated with Erskine Gwynne—himself an American expatriate and nephew of railroad tycoon Alfred Vanderbilt—and named for the magazine Gwynne edited, called The Boulevardier, which—” I finally realized I was rambling and stopped, face on fire, forcibly reminded again of emulsions and a party for Martin which I still could not recall.

Mike laughed and took the drink away (seeming not to notice my relief). “Now, that’s a party trick! Fuckin’ forget making bulbs light up!” he said, and downed it, throwing his head back.

“Bulbs light up?” I said.

He grinned and swapped the empty glass for an ordinary light bulb (it was the style known as “squirrel,” with LED filament), and in his hand, it simply… turned on.

I gawked. “You can do that?”

“Adorable,” said  Mike, who wasn’t slurring, but seemed like he should’ve been. “Can I keep him?”

“No,” said Martin, sounding amused, which at least told me this was all in good fun. I hoped, anyway.

“You sure? He thinks making bulbs light up is neat, he’ll love what comes next.”

“I’m sure,” said Martin.

Mike patted me on the back again. “Thanks for coming. Great to see you climbing out of the cave.” He hesitated. Grinned. Looked at Martin. “The honeymoon suite?”

“Don’t be crude,” said Martin.

Also, we were not married. Also, now I was thinking about married. The unseen eyeballs pretending to be my stomach fluttered like moths.

“Right, right. No dirty jokes. I’m a good boy. On you go,” said Mike, who had definitely had quite a few boulevardiers.

Martin put his arm around me and led me away. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he murmured. “I mean. Apart from the end there, but he has to be really drunk to say that stuff.”

“The gift,” I muttered.

“Oh! I forgot. One second.” He turned back. “Mike!” And he tossed it.

Drunk or no, Mike caught the box right out of the air. “What’s this?”

“Happy birthday from us,” Martin chirped.

Mike unwrapped it quickly, letting bits of paper flutter obnoxiously to the floor. In his hands was a vintage toy—an airplane (from Dinky Toys and manufactured by Meccano LTD, the Eye informed me, #A4 model, a die-cast long-range bomber). He stared.

Martin looked so proud. “Like it?”

“How did you… you found one?” said Mike, and then he did the strangest thing. He cradled it against his chest like it was precious.

“Yep,” said Martin.

Mike sniffled.

All around, our faceless audience showed no sign of anything, no response, nothing but that distancing gaze, and I pressed into Martin a little.

“Thanks,” said Mike, subdued. “Wow.”

“What a thoughtful gift!” said a bright voice I had heard before, but never that young. “Never thought you’d find one of those! Most of them got melted down, you know. Or do you? I do forget what you know and don’t know, you young people!”

But he was a young people. That was a young Simon Fairchild standing behind us, blond hair fashionably ruffled, distinctly tanned and fit, his sleeves rolled back, his shirt offering a kiss and a wave to the concept of buttoned-up. He smiled like a cartoon, eyes nearly shut with the enthusiasm of it.

“Hello,” said Martin, less enthusiastic.

“Ooh,” said Simon as though he’d only just noticed me. “Mister Sims! Well, I haven’t seen you in years! Or a version of you, anyway.”

“Simon, please don’t be an ass today,” said Martin.

“Rude! I can’t come over and say hello to your new friend? We all know how you’ve missed him!”

They did?

I had a good handle on things at this point (despite the fact that the Vast kept him young, with which I would not now wrestle). “Let me guess: you killed me in your world?”

“Oh, not at all,” said Simon, and thumbed over his shoulder at someone I had not seen. “He did.”

And one of the Lukas nothings solidified into Peter.

I stared.

He was older. Harder. Still as a rock and distinctly unfriendly. This was a Peter who had ended the world, and not found it to his liking when his god fed on him at the last. Did he know that I had…

“So I supposed that makes us even, if I understand correctly from Martin’s tale?” he said, still sounding just as chipper and utterly charming as he’d always been (such a lie, such shiny scales on a venomous snake), which was unnerving from a face like stone, which was—

I knew.

(Knew how he’d killed me knew WHEN he’d killed me knew HOW)

(When I’d gone to rescue Martin and I’d damn near done it and he just—)

(Not even as an Avatar, not even for his god, he’d physically attacked me, held me down in the water of his Lonely realm, drowned me there in bubbles and pink froth, staining his paradise forever with presence of another, and grew so enraged, so angry that I’d “made” him do it that he killed Martin afterward even though he hadn’t had to—)

(He’d killed—)

That wasn’t my Martin, and I did not fucking care.

Something must have crossed my face. I don’t know what it was. I don’t know what I did. But Peter Lukas changed. His eyes went wide; he took a step back, all that hardness vanishing under the soft and fragile humanity of fear.

“Now, now, hold on there,” said Simon, stepping between us, hands up, smiling as though we’d begun arguing over sports scores. “Nobody here is dead. We’ve all had our little gaffes, but we all have a second chance!” He clapped his hands twice, sharply, and a young woman appeared at his side (Anna Cotter, 23, scion of the Vash, adopted as Fairchild) with a tray and more drinks. “It would be a dread shame to waste such a thing, wouldn’t it?” he said, distributing alcohol.

Peter chugged his, then tried to disappear.

Simon reached into nothing and pulled him back, hand around his arm. “None of that, now. We all have to get along—so we are going to get along.”

And there was a glimpse of the oldest man in the world, the avatar kept alive for hundreds upon hundreds of years, who’d survived all Hunters, who’d survived every iteration of Gertrude, who’d survived it all: hard. Unyielding as the ground he so shunned.

Though I supposed… now, I was older. Technically.

Peter’s mouth was a hard line, but he just nodded. “Apologies,” he said, absolutely cheerful. “Not my best impression, eh? Haha! Silly me.”

The contrast between expression and tone was giving me whiplash, but I needed to rein it in, too. “Not at all, Peter,” I said. “I owe one, as well. I’m… still fresh out of the creche, as it were, and I… well, it’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.”

He looked baffled. I wasn’t sure why.

“Out of the creche! What delightful phrasing.” Simon toasted my glass (not waiting for me to offer it). “To your surviving!” he said. “And may we all continue to do so.”

“Hear, hear,” said Martin, and toasted me. His green eyes were warm; not accusatory, or disappointed, or shocked, or scared.

He loved me. He loved me so much, and in that, I could find stability I’d never known before I met him.

I smiled. I toasted him. And I drank.

#

Peter watched me like a hawk.

I watched him like an eyeball.

Simon kept flitting between us, telling wild stories (if any of what he said was true, Thomas Pelham-Holles, whom I’d always thought was mediocre at everything, was in fact quite the debauchee behind closed doors), and honestly keeping everyone entertained.

Eyeballs could, apparently, get buzzed, and after about an hour, I was relaxed in spite of it all.

Mike told some stories of his own; it seemed in his world, he’d joined the military and been a paratrooper (which is how he fell in love with the Vast—a tale he did not now tell, but which I knew involved a broken parachute a much longer fall than was possible), and soon had us all rooting for the ridiculous family of dogs he’d kept hidden during his time in Afghanistan.

A mother, six pups, and presumably the father dog (though really, who could say), all of whom survived on bits of his rations and water he was able to sneak them (he briefly mentioned he took care of their waste as subtly as he could), and only was caught by a bunkmate at the very end of his tour.

By then, he’d made friends with locals (he could be charming, sociopath or not), and managed to foist all the dogs off before his superior officer came to check on this supposed disallowed situation. Evidently, finding no evidence of dogs (and given Mike’s ability to lie), he ended up getting off scot-free, and his tattler got latrine duty for a month.

Was it all true? Yes, oddly enough. Was it funny? Gods, yes. Maybe I was more buzzed than I thought. I don’t know, but I ended up… enjoying it, and laughed along with everyone else.

We didn’t end up leaving until nearly four in the afternoon. Half the Lukases had cleared out (which I could tell only because it felt much less awful), and Mike was finally all but carried out by Anne, her arm around his waist, singing some bawdy song he’d learned overseas.

But with those two gone, this house was too much. It felt cavernous; it felt like we were in Siberia, not on a busy London street.

“Martin, I… I want to go now,” I said.

“Yes,” he said, and we walked for the door.

Peter got in the way.

Great. We were going to fight? Now what was going to happen? “Hello?” I said.

“You know, I’ve been watching you all night,” he said. “You’re really something of a… hm, what’s the word for it? What do you think, Martin? A great big dork? That works, doesn’t it?”

I sputtered. “What did you say?”

Martin laughed. “My dork. You can’t have him.” (He might have had a few too many, himself.)

“Oh, I don’t want him. I just finally felt comfortable saying that he’s not—you’re not, I wouldn’t want to pretend you aren’t here—the same as the one I knew.”

“Eh?” I said. “In what way?”

“That old fellow thought he knew absolutely everything, and was about as arrogant about it as you can imagine. Even Elias couldn’t stand him,” said Peter, far too brightly for the subject matter. “He wasn’t even afraid when he… well. He wasn’t even afraid, which is why I did what I did.”

Martin looked like he was going to ask precisely what Peter did—for the details, for the story of what happened. I couldn’t let him do that. Couldn’t hear Peter say what I already knew, so…

I bit him on the shoulder. Not hard, or anything!

Martin jumped and blinked at me.

I had no idea why I’d gone for that option, but… well, it was done. “You did what you did because I wasn’t afraid?” I said to Peter.

“He wasn’t.”

I was. A distinction. “So the Lonely… hadn’t marked me?”

Peter snorted. “Almost nothing had. Eye, obviously. The Corruption. The Desolation. That was it.”

I gawked at him. “That was it?” No wonder Elias had hated me. I’d ruined all his plans.

Peter swayed on his feet. “I think we should talk, Archivist. Seems to me there are things we could learn from each other.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” I muttered.

“You also just bit your boyfriend on the shoulder instead of saying, ‘please don’t say what you were going to say,’ so maybe let’s sober up before making any hard decisions, yeah?”

My face burned. “How did you know that I…”

“It was on your face, wasn’t it? You’re wonderfully expressive.”

Not the first time I’d heard that. Whatever small subtlety I’d once had clearly had been lost somewhere over the past thousand years.

Peter was still going. "Not a hardship to watch, is he, Martin?"

“No, he’s not at all,” said Martin fervently.

“I have no idea what possessed me to bite you,” I muttered. “Is the tooth fairy… real?”

And Peter Lukas laughed. He laughed as though he couldn’t believe what he heard, and then he’d not only accepted it, but chosen to enjoy it. Then he stepped backward, into mist, losing detail, losing individuality; he was just a Lukas, vague, eerie, and then he was completely gone.

“It wasn’t that funny,” I muttered. “It’s a different world. Maybe there is a tooth fairy here.”

“If there is, Jared would probably know,” Martin said, taking out his phone to summon the man. “Speaking of. Hey. Want to go bite me some more?” And he grinned.

We all needed to sober up. “Let’s at least go home and figure it out from there.”

“Marvelous,” said Martin.

And then my phone rang.

#

I’d had it for two days. Sasha had given it to me in our last session, explaining that they were happy to loan it until I could figure out my own situation—and since it was damn near impossible to get a job without one, this was absolutely on offer.

Nice.

I had three whole numbers in it: Sasha’s, Martin’s, and emergency services. (I like to be prepared. Not that I think they’d know what to do with a man made of eyeballs, but that wasn’t the point.)

I wanted to add Tim’s, but… I needed to ask him in person for that. I wasn’t just going to do it. I didn’t have that right.

At any rate, all that meant was I had no idea whose number this was. “Hello?” I said as we stood, swaying on the curb, waiting for Jared to arrive.

“Jon,” said Manuela. “I need you here. Right away. May I come get you?”

“Uh,” I said, feeling sluggish. “I, uh. Just had some alcohol?”

“So?” said Manuela. “That shouldn’t affect you. You don’t even need oxygen anymore.”

“Well, it did,” I said, mildly huffy.

“I’m guessing you wanted it to,” she said. “Can I come pick you up? I need you here.”

“I want Martin,” I said, feeling petulant. I was absolutely drunk, and… maybe she was right. But what did that mean? I could make myself feel how I wanted?

“I mean… sure? But this is about Jonah Magnus.”

Sobriety hit like a truck.

Buzz gone. Warmth gone. Pleasure gone.

“Jon?” said Martin. “You just went green. Are you all right?”

“I love you,” I said to him. “Please go home. I have to go to Manuela. It’s about Jonah Magnus.”

Martin’s jaw tightened. “I should come with you.”

“I don’t know if it’s safe,” I said, softly. “Gods, I can’t… what if it isn’t?”

“It should be?” said Manuela. “I mean, unless Jonah shoots lasers out of his eyes, or something, but that’s highly improbable.”

I looked at Martin.

He kissed me. (I don’t know if Manuela knew that was happening. She remained patient, quiet, until we were done, until my jitters settled, until I calmed.) “I trust you,” he said. “I can go home. I trust you.”

The me he’d known had murdered Jonah. These words, from him, now, were…

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. Tears stung. “All right,” I whispered to her. “I’m outside the Lukases’ home.”

“Oh, that makes it easy,” she said, and a gaping hole appeared in the air just down the street before she’d even hung up. She waved, closing it behind her apparently with the power of her mind, still holding the phone to her ear. “Here!”

I looked at Martin.

“I’m a proper monster now,” he said, smile weak but true. “If anybody bothers me, I can just throw them into the Lonely. I’ll be fine.”

“Promise if some Hunter or something comes along, you won’t do that. You’ll just run.”

“All right. I promise,” he said. “Cross my heart and—”

“Don’t you dare finish that.”

She’d nearly reached us. “Gods, you two are cute. I ship. Come on, now.”

“You… what?” I said. The Eye told me what she meant. I sighed, hand over my face.

“He’s close,” said Martin, checking his phone. “Off you go.”

“I love you,” I said, following Manuela, looking at him over my shoulder.

“I love you,” he said back.

“You’ll see him again,” said Manuela, and another portal opened.

“You’re really just opening those in front of God and everyone?” I said.

“They can’t see them,” she said. “Only people touched as we are by the Fears can. Only people who’ve been… involved to that level.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “Wait. Why?”

“I’ll be happy to show you, but we need to go. If we wait, we’ll have to let another cycle go by before we can fetch him. I need you now, Jon.”

“Cycle?”

Manuela waited, half in and half out of her dark circle.

I could not see her other half. I could not see what was on the other side. It was impenetrable to me, at least… unless I tried to see through it, and I didn’t want to do that. That felt risky.

But I could see Manuela. She meant no harm. This was the Manuela she’d been before Rayner got hold of her; curious, brilliant, lively. No bitterness; none of the simmering anger that damned the entire world to the dark.

I trusted her, and so, eyes wide, I took a deep breath, and finally stepped through her portal.

-------

NOTES:

yeah, @ggracee's Simon is the one in my head for this fic. I am not taking feedback at this time.

#tma #tma fic #tma spoilers #tma au #post mag 200 #somewhere else #monster!jon #monster!martin #peter lukas #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jmart #teaholding #jonmartin #magpod #magnuspod #magnus monsterverse

[idle-compy]

s5 spoiler review ahead!!

Ok, so I didn't do a review while watching this time so we'll see how much I remember. Also, this is probably more of me talking about my favorite moments rather than a review

First of all, this season was so much better than 4. It actually developed the characters and focused on their relationships with each other. I loved the fact that the characters felt real. They were joking around, trying to have fun when it wasn't really the time. They were being kids. Also, so much more dinosaurs and so much less robots.

Yasammy canon?!?!?! I mean I knew it was gonna happen but when it happened?? Ya girl lost her mind. The kiss??? Absolutely spectacular. Sammy pretending like the didn't hear Yaz so she would repeat her confession?? They're secret "I love you" language?? I will never recover

And on that note, Ben being absolutely the perfect person for Yaz to go to about it. He knew exactly what to say and the scenes of him trying to get them together were so wholesome but also lowkey hilarious

And Ben in general?? Like they somehow took perfect s4 Ben and made him more perfect. Also that scene where Bumpy was going after him while controlled was insane. The way Ben was just going to accept his fate, but not blame Bumpy because she couldn't help it, and then she managed to break control of the chip so she wouldn't have to hurt him :'))

Also I'm so glad that Darius finally got to process and talk about his feeling with someone. Him lashing out at Kenji?? He has been way overdue for all that. I did appreciate that this season adressed the fact that he shoves his feelings down

Brand, Dave, and Roxie showing up early in the season was absolutely perfect. Even though it took them until the last episode to actually find them, I loved getting to watch the lead up to that. Also, Mae working with them was perfect

Mae was also a delight once again this season. The way she was willing to sacrifice herself to Nublar if it meant Mantah Corp not getting what they want. Absolutely iconic of her

Kenji's dad just kept getting more and more awful. Everything you think he couldn't get worse he did. It was hard to watch him lie and manipulate Kenji to get what he wanted. That showdown scene between him and Kenji at the plane?? He couldn't even tell his son he cared about him or that he loved him, and barely put up a fight to get Kenji on that plane before just leaving him there

I actually liked Kenji's development. Watching him slowly fall into this mold his father was making him into, working really hard just to make his dad happy, just to realize he cared about his business and his name more than his own child. The end where he realized he didn't really have parents anymore was painful

But, while it's depressing, he got a better family!!! Seeing Darius' mom take him in instantly made me cry so much

On that note, the reunions scenes!! When Darius and Brand saw each other again?? That's when my tears started and then didn't stop for the rest of the episode. Also seeing how excited Dave and Roxie got to see these kids they only knew for a week, and then the kids reuniting with their parents. I was just a sobbing mess by then

When it cut to grown Darius giving a speech, I just broke. He's grown so much!! And then Kenji was still there!! Living with him!! They're brothers!! And they we got to see the rest of the campfam??? Sammy and Yaz live together, Ben's off working alongside dinos with Mae, and Brooklynn's a detective?? Perfect. All of it. Except for Yaz, Sammy, and Ben's designs?? Yaz and Sammy just looked cheap (Sammy was still in the same shirt) and, I don't know, just wasn't really digging Ben's

Ok, now for some smaller things I loved that I can remember

Darius cried!! Three times!! Finally!!

"But have you ever though about that maybe you want be more than best friends?" "Um, Yaz. Bumpy's a dinosaur? I just don't think it would work"

Also Ben's awful accents?? Peak

Brands new jacket!!

I know I mentioned it above, BUT THE YASAMMY KISS?? I will never stop thinking about it

"I've been trying to tell you something all day just waiting for the perfect moment, but there are no perfect moments and even though I probably still smell like the tunnel and it looks like you have nothosaurus drool in your hair and Ben is standing right there... I can't wait another minute to tell you how I feel!!"

The kids creating a new watering hole for the dinos!! And they dived off the cliff into it!! And Yasammy jumped together!! Holding hands!!

The Nublar Six. That's all I'm gonna say

Ok this is all I can think of for now!! It will probably be updated throughout the day

#jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #jwcc spoilers #s5 spoilers #jwcc #s5 #c posts

[blacknovelist]

endings (ffxiv fic)

I had a lot of feelings after learning about how the original ffxiv rebooted into the current A Realm Reborn iteration, man. I also have a lot of feelings about my character’s backstory and their mom specifically. and it’s writing month. you can probably guess where this is going.

anyway <3

Over the tatters of nations embroiled in battle, a moon descends from the sky and sends the people into tumult.

A continent away, a mother braces against the uncertainty.

The skies tended to tint orange near the horizon in the days before Dalamud's fall, even this far from Cartineau and beyond the bounds of Eorzea. In the months further back it had gleamed, a red-white hole in the daytime sky that inched nearer and nearer until it no longer could be sighted save for the splashes of color it left on the clouds.

They got little more than hearsay and rumor this far east, but Edyne had once made work of collecting leaves off the grapevine and in months of distant dread such as this, the habit had reared its head with a vengeance unhindered by a broken horn. Lips hung loose on merchants and adventurers of all flavors. She knew what it meant.

She'd known for so long this had been coming, the steady flow of whispers shifting with each moon that passed and their crops flourishing or crumbling unnaturally, as though to lend greater credence to the changing of days. And yet now, to know that the end of this time of waiting approached felt... worse, somehow. It could be tomorrow, the next day, a week from now, tonight even. Would the heavens flash red once the moon crashed itself into the land at long last? Would the destruction be bound only to Eorzea, over which the descent had been said to be locked upon, or would shockwaves and devastation reach even here?

By Dusk and Dawn, let it not reach them here.

Her child turned from their dusty work as though sensing their mother's heavy gaze and heavier thoughts, and at the curious tilt of their head as they looked back to her she couldn't help but smile. Feri'um beamed in turn, uprooted the last of the withered crop he’d been cleaning up, and ambled over. Edyne didn't hesitate to pull them into a hug.

Gods beyond, when had her little one grown so much? Once, they'd barely reached the tips of her fingers, even standing straight up. Now they could wrap their arms around her waist without any fuss at all, and who knew how much taller they'd get by the end of this year? Or the next, even.

She did not entertain the dead seed that asked if either would even come.

"Mom?"

"Weiben's hosting us for dinner tonight. Liuren will be there too." She leaned down to rub their horns with her own. "Go clean up."

"Okay." Feri'um frowned up at her. "What about the rest of the packing?"

"It's all handled, unless you haven't put those shoes away like I told you yesterday."

"I did!" Only half a lie— her spare sandals had indeed been bundled, but she'd spotted theirs tucked behind their bedroll. "....do you know what we're eating?"

"Nothing but tomatoes and celery," she said, just to watch the teen's nose scrunch, and she brushed her palm along the budding scales along their jaw. "Now go. I don't want to see any dirt under your nails!"

Supper wasn't, in fact, either of those vegetables, much to Feri’um’s relief. The three adults present shared a quiet laugh as the children bickered over a bowl of snap peas, Weiben's dark-horned duo glaring axes until one noticed Feri sneaking spoonfuls straight out of the others' arms. Liuren shot the two au ra a jokingly satisfied look at the lack of young blood that belonged to her at the table, then squawked as Weiben dangled the salt just out of her lalafellan reach.

Tomorrow, the rest of their little mixed tribe would gather, and the multitude of families would pick up their roots and press onwards. The Garleans hadn't reached this region yet, approach slowed by their current focus on the western front, and even then would probably not pay much mind to a little band of wanderers so long as they took care— but to stay still too long put an itch in every Xaela-blooded head in camp, Edyne's mixed heritage no exception.

With good fortune, the tribe murmured, the tint of the sky would remain a tint for days more, until they could find a good spot to settle yet again. If they were luckier still, impact might pass without them so much as noticing. Perhaps they'd be spared casualty and effect alike from the second moon's fall, the calamitous Dalamud a consequence for Aldenard and its nations alone.

Edyne Wihls did not hope. She prayed. To Azim and Nhaama, father of Dawn and mother of Dusk, and perhaps a bit to the Twelve her not-auri clanmates had brought with them too, because if any Gods might hear perhaps they could find it in their divine and distant hearts to take pity on the little mortal mother laying out pleas, worshiper or not.

Let them all survive, Eorzeans and her own people alike. If not that, permit her tribe to carry on, ruffled but alive through calamity. And failing that still, then please, protect their children— allow her child to wander and learn how to understand like she did, once.

And if none of that would do, then at least let the end come quick. By the Skies, let them not suffer.

(And Edyne dreamed, that night. Not of light and darkness or of crystals and black cloth, but of smiling faces and clear blue skies. Of a child grown strong and tall but never too large for her to pull into her arms. Of a world, vast and dangerous and bloody but so very bright through another's eyes, filled with strangers turned friends and endless fresh sights. Of life just as easily saved as it could be cut away.

It was not an answer, nor a reassurance. But she woke without memory of it the next day, nonetheless settled to her core, and when she on a whim scooped Feri'um into her arms, they just sighed and laughed and hugged her back.)

#blacknovelist writes #Final Fantasy 14 #ffxiv #ffxiv fic #ff14 #normal playing this game like ''here's my char who i play running around eorzea whether as a wol or not!'' #me like ''here's my wol's mom and my wol's extended family and the servants my wol befriended and all THEIR family--'' #i have so many feelings and thoughts about feri'um's mom and im not sorry #Feri'um Wihls #Edyne Wihls #IT'S SO EXCITING SHE CAN HAVE A TAG NOW #Feri Tales

[binch-i-might-be]

so I'm thinking about Gwash and Rachel

#sorry they just give me Emotions™ #like they would have been great for each other. they WERE great for each other!! #it only lasted three weeks they barely knew each other but somehow they also knew each other too well #there was potential there. the possibility of love #and then it was gone #brb going insane #gwash (my emotional support fictional dad) #miss rachel faucette (my beloved) #rayrambles

[the-little-ewok]

I wish you would write a fic where One of my three favorites from the Star Wars series (Anakin, Luke, Or Poe) Surprises the wife!reader by coming home early without telling them and make it smutty? I just keep thinking of those military reunions on YT

Gif by the beautiful Salome-C More than just "I love you"

Poe Dameron X Wife Reader Rating : 18+ / E (By interacting with this post you confirm you are over 18) Wordcount : 2300 (ish) Warnings : Bit of angst, bit of fluff, bit of smut, brief fingering, unprotected sex Summary: Poe comes home early from a mission and needs you to help him forget, if only for a moment.

A/N : I wrote this from Poe's perspective and I'm sorry it's a little bit sad but its still fluffy! (Also I loved this idea and the lil, make it smutty ;) ) Beta by the lovely mypedrom

—

Poe pauses in the doorway to watch you for a moment, fast asleep on his side of the bed, your arms wrapped around his pillow, the crisp white sheets slipping off your shoulder, allowing your skin to be exposed to the soft moonlight filtering through the window.

His heart flutters at the sight and a warmth blooms in his chest that you're his, that you actually agreed to marry him, that you love him just as much as he loves you. He still can't believe his luck, and if he's honest with himself, he doesn't think he ever will.

Both of you barely had any time to adjust to married life before he'd been called away on another mission. He remembered all too clearly the way you'd smiled and assured him it would be ok, that you had a few days together and that was more than most got. You had assured him there would be time afterwards, to enjoy each other, to settle into married life, to build a home together, to make happy memories. You assured him that you would be alright.

But when he left, the memory he left with was one of you biting back tears, nails digging into your palms, voice trembling with emotion as you shouted to him that he better come home, or you would fly out and kill him yourself. He'd never tell you how much it hurt to see you that way. He'd never tell you the way it carved open his chest and ripped out his heart. To see you sleeping peacefully was a soothing balm to the worry that had pained him far worse than anything the First Order had done.

He sends a silent thank you to the Maker that he made it home to you. Out in the vast emptiness of space, when things had seemed at their worst, when hope was almost lost, and he could have allowed himself to be lost too, he thought of you, and how he would not let that memory be the last he had of you. It had given him the will to fight, to pull back from a stunt that probably would have gotten him killed, it had given him a purpose to come home. He was determined to see you happy again, to see you smile again, and that, is what brought him through. A possibility of more happy memories with you.

And he had made it back, surprisingly in one piece, and a whole week earlier than promised, but somehow still late.

He hadn't warned you that he was coming, unwilling to let you get too excited in case he got delayed, or worse. If you had known, he knew you would have sat up all night, waiting patiently for his ship to appear in the sky. He's glad now, given the hour, that he hadn't mentioned it.

He'd intended to arrive during the afternoon, to surprise you when you least expected it, to watch your eyes light up with excitement, to feel your lips against his when you welcomed him back with kisses that steal his breath. Instead he'd found himself quietly tiptoeing into your room in the early hours of the morning, fumbling in the dim lighting.

Poe sighs, running a hand through his hair, messy and damp from his helmet. He should shower, or at least clean up a little bit before he crawls into bed beside you, but you look so soft, so warm, so inviting after long hours of loneliness, that the thought leaves him almost as soon as it appears.

Right now, he needs you — your arms around him, your lips against his. He needs you to anchor him to the ground and make him forget about the terrors that have invaded his stars.

Carefully quiet, so he doesn't scare you awake, he shrugs off his shirt and pants, kicking them off to the side, where no doubt tomorrow you'll notice them and scold him for leaving things thrown around the room. The thought of your exasperated complaints makes him smile, realising he's even missed that.

He's surprised the dip and creak of the bed doesn't wake you as he kneels at the end, but you don't even stir, you're breathing steady and deep. It almost makes him feel guilty for wanting to wake you, but he knows there's no chance of sleep for him tonight, and the moment he lays down beside you, you'll wake anyway. He might as well make your reunion worth waking for.

Taking the edge of the thin sheet, he tugs it gently, slowly allowing it to slip down over your body, exposing more of you to his gaze.

He pauses as you stir, just slightly as the cold air begins to hit your skin, blindly reaching out and tangling your fingers in the sheet, trying to pull it back up. Poe holds it tightly, preventing any movement, and when you frown he gives it another playful tug.

That gets you to stir more, turning in the bed and exposing the full view of your naked form to him. Maker, how he stops himself jumping on you then and there, he doesn't know. If it was any other night he came home to his wife naked, he would have. But he won't rush this. He wants to savour the quiet moment, to drag it out and enjoy every possible second before reality crashes down on you both once more. So, patiently, he tugs the sheet gently out of your grip and off the bed.

Trusting you're well on the way to waking by the way you groan in annoyance, he dips his head and starts to press soft kisses against your leg, working his way up as his hands slide higher to map the soft flesh of your thigh.

He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes flicker open slowly, as though fighting the urge to drift back to sleep, your gaze glazed and unfocused.

"Poe?" You whisper his name, your voice sleep gravelled, hopeful and scared. He understands your fear. He knows all too well the nightmares that make you worry - one day you'll wake to him, and he won't really be here, he'll be gone forever, stardust scattered through space.

"I'm here," he assures you softly against your flesh, moving his kisses up to your thigh. "You're awake. I'm home."

"Poe," it's less of a question now, and it comes in a more desperately surprised voice as you finally, fully wake. His heart fills with love at the way your hands scramble to touch him, to pull him to sit up, to check him over.

"Hello wife," he smiles playfully, but you miss it, too busy checking over cuts and bruises, new scars, still red and angry, marks of battle that weren't there before. He allows you this, he doesn't wince or pull away from your gentle touches as he might have with others. And when your hands frame his face, he holds your worried gaze steadily.

He takes his own account of you then — the dark circles under your eyes that tell him this is maybe the first time you've slept soundly in weeks, the redness on your bottom lip that tells him you've chewed it more than once in worry, the tears filling your eyes, full of both grateful happiness and concern. Bringing a hand up he cups your cheek gently, brushing his thumb against your skin to wipe away the tear that breaks free to cascade down your cheek.

"Don't cry. I'm here," he whispers softly. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"What happened out there?" Your scared question brings back a familiar ache in his chest, the echo of memories flashing across his vision. His stomach gives a sickening lunch, and his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth, unable to choke out the truth. He'll tell you tomorrow, when the sun has risen on a new day, when the silence that followed yelled call signs isn't so fresh in his mind, when the flashing lights of exploding star fighters behind his closed eyelids are no longer bright enough to blind him.

"I don't want to talk about it," he shakes his head softly, pushing away the thoughts of all that was lost. He won't think about that now. Not yet. No, for now he needs you — the distraction of you, the hope and light of you, to dispel the dark thoughts that churn in his mind.

You nod slowly, understanding him in a way only you can, brushing your thumbs against his skin as you hold his face. The touch of your hands makes his eyes flutter closed for just a moment, safe in your embrace. Your presence alone chases away the shadows that have clouded his every step.

"I missed you," you whisper softly, pressing a sweet kiss to his mouth. When you pull away his mouth chases yours, capturing your lips and kissing you desperately. His hand slides around the side of your neck, holding your lips captive against his as his tongue slips between your teeth. He needs you close to him, he needs all of you, and when he feels you return his kiss with the same intensity, he knows you need him too.

Nothing he could imagine, no memory he could conjure, would ever come anywhere close to the feeling of having your body against his. His lips re-familiarise themselves with yours, drawing soft moans from you as he presses you back to lay down, his body covering yours, slotting himself between your legs. As your hands slide down his chest, your kisses just as desperate and insistent as his, he finally feels some of the tension he's carried drop from his shoulders.

When you pull apart his eyes drink in the view of your body, the familiar stirring of passion only intensifying with each flicker of his gaze across the flesh laid out under him. You truly are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

"If I'd known you started sleeping naked, I'd have been back weeks ago," his fingers slide across your flesh as he talks, wandering over the peaks of your breasts and tiptoeing down across your hip, familiarising himself with every curve as though it was the first time all over again.

He kisses the edge of your mouth as you sigh prettily beneath him, before his lips follow the line of your jaw, dipping to press a kiss under your ear and then slowly down your neck, enjoying the soft moan it elicits from you.

"I get hot sometimes,"

"You're hot all the time," he can't help but smile against your skin at your huff of amused laughter.

"You're already getting what you want. No need for the… compliments," the last word is gasped as he sucks a mark against your neck, replacing the one he left you with that's long since faded in his absence.

He allows himself a moment to admire it, letting this tongue sweep across the abused skin, before he brings his lips back to yours, his kiss passionate and needy. His fingers slide between your bodies, dipping down into the apex of your legs, letting out a low groan into your mouth at the wetness already gathered there.

"Someone was having a good dream," he teases, raising an eyebrow. Drawing his fingers up, he circles your clit slowly, reminding himself of all the ways to make your hips arch against him, your breath stutter and gasp. "I hope it was about me?"

"It wasn't," you gasp, your fingers gripping his shoulders as his work against you. Stars, he's missed this — the easy banter, the teasing, the way your eyes twinkle with amusement, the way they go wide, your mouth falling open with a low moan as he slides two fingers into you. This is what he needed, you, just you.

"Because a dream wouldn't compare to having me in reality, right?" He purposely curls his fingers against your walls as you try to speak, cutting your words off into a stuttered moan. You smack his arm in silent protest to his teasing, but he knows you're too distracted by the steady thrust of his fingers to think of anything else to say now.

When you do manage to choke out a word, between the whimpers and moans you shower him with, it's the simple syllable of his name. It's a desperate plea as you cant your hips against his hand, a sweet beg for more as your walls flutter against the press of his fingers.

"Poe," you whimper softly.

He shushes you gently, capturing your lips as he eases his fingers out of you with a slick noise. He can't deny you anything and his fingers are swiftly replaced by his cock, sliding through your wetness, letting out his own shaky breath at the feel of your heat against him.

He presses himself into you slowly, inch by inch, allowing you to adjust after the long absence, dropping his head to your shoulder as he shudders, letting out a low moan as your wet heat engulfs him. As he stills deep inside you, the world outside fades away, the terror and sadness, the hurt and worry. All that remains in his world now are the two of you.

"I love you," you whisper in a soft moan, wrapping your arms around him as you lift your hips to his. He knows your words are never just an "I love you." It's an I love you, I missed you, I'm here for you, we'll get through this. It's always more than just "I love you."

And when he repeats it back, a breathless mantra against your skin as he presses his body close against yours, entwining your fingers, drawing back his hips to slowly rock against yours, his own affirmations are hidden in the spaces between the words.

"I love you, I love you, I love you."

I love you. I missed you. I need you.

----

Taglist reblog to follow

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x wife reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron

[rek1s-headband]

Oh oh! Can we get some hedcanons about cherry adopting a girl who is around miya's age. Like how close would they be and how would others feel about her being his daughter now. Bonus points if uncel Joe and little missy mess with daddy blossom

Xoxo love your work so far, keep it up💙

➯ A/N: This was such an amazing request, I had so much fun writing it! Hope you enjoy :)

Also, i started watching Your Lie in April today, and its AMAZING! So much more than what I was expecting

➯ With a daughter

➯ Characters: Kaoru Sakurayashiki with a young daughter. Reki, Langa and co. are mentioned throughout!

➯ Warnings: none:)

Having a child had never crossed Kaoru’s mind before, but when Joe had teased him about how “you treat Carla better than you would a child!”, the idea kind of stuck with him. And so, he’d spent countless nights awake, wondering to himself if it was something he truly wanted?

He’d pass parks, seeing parents with spewing babies and toddlers throwing tantrums, wondering if he could actually put up with that? But as he passed the shops, he came across a mother and her daughter, who looked around 12. He watched them pass, a grin on the child’s face as she looked into her shopping bag, examining her haul for that day. And so it was settled

He wanted a baby girl he could spoil absolutely rotten

And the search for a child carried on, and this time instead of baby shops and websites, he was browsing the shelves of Claires and other tween clothing stores. It had only occurred to him over a bottle of wine with Joe, as they were discussing if Kaoru was truly ready for something like this. Instead of a crying baby or a messy toddler, he could simply adopt someone a bit older!

It made sense too. For a single parent, an older child seemed much more doable. Of course, he wouldn’t be alone. Joe was always telling him how he’d help out, yknow, if he actually went through with the damn thing.

Not to mention, the older you get, the more difficult it is to get adopted. Babies and young children will get adopted left right and centre, whereas the child he will take home will have been there for a while. Finally, they will have a place to call a home

He spent months trying to get the approval for adoption, and one fateful day he finally got the letter that yes he could go ahead and take one home. He was ecstatic, spending the next few days finding out the location of every orphanage around his area of Japan. He messaged every single one, asking when their next visiting day was

And so it was set: Kaoru would not rest until he had found his perfect little girl

He went through orphanage after orphanage, searching for someone he could call his own. However, none of the children were lighting that paternal flame inside him. It wasn’t their fault of course, they just didn’t click with him, staring at him any time he tried to talk to them. Visit after visit, he’d go to Joe’s, ready to tell him about his recent fail.

It wasn’t until Joe came up to him with a phone number, asking if he’d been to this particular orphanage yet. Apparently they had a few children aged 12 and up, and were available for visit that Saturday. And so there he was, packing a bag and getting ready to travel to the house. This time felt different, somehow. He could feel his palms sweat, as if he could sense he would take one of them home

When he finally made it to the house, he was a nervous wreck. The lady of the house let him in with a smile, telling him the children were in the backyard playing while she bounced a baby on her hip. Cherry winced as the baby gurgled at him, glad he opted for an older child

She led him outside, gesturing at the children who were sprinting around in the vast field, hiding behind trees and bushes. It was clear they were playing a game of hide and seek. He smiled as he scanned over them, but it quickly disappeared when he noticed one little girl sitting on the step, head in her lap while her shoulders gently shook with tears

He walked over to her, bending down with a soft smile. He didn’t know where this sudden calmness came from, but that was his last priority right now. A little gash sat on the girls knee, caked with blood as it trickled down her shin. He frowned, pulling out a tissue to gently wipe it. She jumped, wincing with shock from the fresh wave of pain, and surprise. Kaoru gently wiped at her knee once more before looking up at her to attempt a conversation

“Hello, is your knee alright?” She shook her head frantically, wiping a tear away from her face. A small breathy laugh escaped him as he watched the child stand, gesturing to her leg

“Nope, not at all. I think its broken, if you ask me. All cause of that stupid thing!” She threw her arm out, gesturing to a pink board Kaoru hadn’t noticed before. A skateboard.

That’s when Kaoru realised it: I want this one

Suddenly he felt a new sense of importance, like he had to make a good impression. He walked over to the board, tutting as he looked down at it. “This is what hurt you?” He looked at it with disdain as the little girl nodded her head violently. Kaoru could see how she hurt herself, the thing was massive, especially for someone her age. It looked around the size of a board he would use.

Grinning, he picked up the board. “Well, want to see something cool?” She watched in wonder as kaoru stood on it, pushing off and turning quickly, popping an ollie over a stray toy. The little girl jumped, throwing her arms up as she cheered Kaoru on. He finished with a flourish, coming back to stand beside her. “What did you think?” She was speechless, simply moving her hands, saying scattered “wows” and making various sound effects. Kaoru smiled, certain that he could teach her more.

When he realized visiting time was coming to a close, he proposed the idea to the girl, who’s name he had come to know was Lily: he’d come back next week, and he’d bring his board. He even promised to find her a smaller boar perfect for her to learn on, saying he knew a friend who could make her one. From there he would teach her the basics of skateboarding, even a couple of tricks once she got that down. She was delighted, bouncing up and down and declaring she couldn’t wait, all the energy of someone much younger than her. Kaoru found he couldn’t stop smiling himself either

He made his way back through the house, Lily skipping alongside him. He explained the plan to the Lady, that he would come back next week for another visit. Just as he was about to leave, he turned to the lady to request one final thing from her

“Make sure no one snatches her up from me while I’m gone, yeah?”

Needless to say a bottle of wine was opened at Joe’s that night in celebration of Lily, the potential daughter

And so the weeks turned into months, and Kaoru returned each week with his board and some sweets for her and the other children, teaching her everything she needed to know about skateboarding. After a month or so she could confidently ollie without bailing, and next time he visited she displayed it with delight, watching Kaoru’s face light up with pride.

She had taken a real liking to Kaoru, according to the Lady. She refused to pay any other visitors any notice, declaring they “simply weren’t Kaoru.” This is what finally made him realise that maybe it was time to ask if she’d like to live with him from now on, where she could practice with him every day.

When he asked her, Kaoru could’ve sworn he actually saw stars in her eyes. She simply lit up, throwing herself at Kaoru, tears streaming down her face as she shouted yes, of course she would. she wasn’t the only one crying, Kaoru could barely see from the tears in his own eyes, the lady dabbing at hers with a tissue

Once the paperwork was complete and Lily was his, he felt a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He had packed her a new change of clothes the day he went to collect her, bringing Joe along with him for emotional support. Lily came flying at him the second he got out of his car, wrinkling her nose at Joe

“You never told me you had a boyfriend, Kaoru” she stuck her tongue out at him from over his shoulder while they both tried to convince her that no, they weren’t a couple, before she ran upstairs to get changed. Joe turned to Kaoru, an almost offended look on his face

“Why were you so adamant that we weren’t together??” “I dont need her worrying she’s going home to a Gorrila” “HEY”

Once they all got home, they threw a little party at Joe’s who had closed a little early specially for it. Kaoru didn’t let her out of his sight, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable with all the new people. Of course, it was only Joe, Shadow, Reki, Langa and Miya, all of whom she would meet eventually, but he still worried in case she got overwhelmed.

She made quick friends with Reki, who was ecstatic from the moment he realised she could skate. The two bonded over it, talking about tricks they’d learned, Reki shouting over at Kaoru because why hadn’t he taught him anything??

Miya was a bit standoffish at first, but when she saw the switch in his hand, the two were instantly bonding over who had better villagers in Animal Crossing, and who had passed more levels in Mario with three stars

As the months went on, Lily really settled into her new life in Okinawa, starting at school in Miyas class. The two were joined at the hip, Miya often coming home to Kaoru’s so they could practice together, or simply study and watch some movies. Reki constantly teased the shit out of the two, talking about how he heard “wedding bells”. This comment earned him a swift whack into the skull from Kaoru, warning him not to tease his little girl

Soon enough Kaoru was making her own skateboard with built-in Carla, who helped her skating improve insanely. As Kaoru said, she was definitely a chip off the old block. Langa and Reki would take her to the skate park with them, helping her land new tricks and would take videos of her to send to Kaoru

Shadow was like a chill uncle to her, bringing her flowers for her room and taking her out to get some clothes and ice cream. Joe was like an uncle too, but a much more untrustworthy one. Would he take her to the park, or would he take her to parts of downtown she definitely shouldn’t have been? Who knows, certainly not Kaoru...

Poor Kaoru can never get a minutes peace. Every second of the day she’s plotting something, waiting for him to let his guard down so she can pounce, scaring the shit out of him. When the others are around its 10x worse, all of them ganging up on him to pull pranks

As well as skateboarding, Kaoru tried to teach her how to do calligraphy. She ended up being awful, blotting the ink and smearing it with her hand. But hey, it was a fun art project that made it onto the fridge

At S, she was watched like a hawk. When Kaoru was competing,the others would be like her bodyguard, making sure no one got within 5 feet of her. She’d watch her dad with wonder, the look of awe never leaving her face since the first day she saw him skate. She can’t wait for the day she can compete, maybe even beating her own dad

The first time Lily called Kaoru “dad” was when he won a race, showing off some amazing skills and winning the insanely close match by a hair. He picked up his board, looking around for Lily. He saw her in the crowd, throwing her arms up and cheering “THATS MY DAD!! LOOK, RIGHT THERE, THATS MY DAD!” When she spotted him, a large grin spread across her face. “Nice job out there dad! You did amazing!! D’you think I can do that one day?”

Everyone was staring at her, she hadn’t even realised she had said anything out of the ordinary. Soon enough Kaoru was lunging at her, picking her up in a hug so she didn’t see the tears quickly forming on his face. With a smile he pulled away, his voice dripping with pride

“Of course you could. You’re my daughter, aren’t you?”

#sk∞ #sk8 langa #sk8 reki #langa hasegawa #reki kyan #sk8 the infinity #kaoru sakurayashiki headcanons #sk8 kaoru #Kaoru Sakurayashiki #sk8 cherry blossom #cherry blossom #cherry blossom headcanons #kojiro nanjo #sk8 joe #miya chinen #sk8 Miya #sk8 fic #sk8 headcanons #sk8 the infinity headcanons #sk8 the infinity x reader