#kinda hungry but i don’t think we’re stopping anywhere for another 3 hours

[lyriumsings]

finally on my way back home and im praying to all the gods that the two toddlers im sitting between continue their good moods

#kinda hungry but i don’t think we’re stopping anywhere for another 3 hours #i did not miss this car trip #the distance is brutal #and all my other siblings have the luxury of sleeping bc i’m default child care #oh to be the eldest daughter living in late capitalism that keeps me from being able to move out when i want to #lyriumsings txt #the wayfarer exchange is genuinely making my day #it’s so nice to be in a fandom that super active and like positive

[osakaso5]

IDOLiSH7 5th Anniversary Special Story: Opening Doors...

Chapter 3: A Weight Lifted Off Their Hearts

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Haruka Isumi: Ahaha! That's so funny!

Mitsuki Izumi: We've gotten way off the rails again. Where were we?

Nagi Rokuya: OH! We were discussing our team divisions!

Gaku Yaotome: We're probably ending up in different teams, too. But I think the three of us are better off separated.  

Tamaki Yotsuba: Really?

Gaku Yaotome: If Ryu, Tenn, and Osaka were singing in a shuffle unit, it wouldn't sit right with me.

Tenn Kujo: So what you're actually saying is that you'd feel left out.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: That's so cute! You act exactly like my little brothers sometimes, Gaku.

Gaku Yaotome: No, that's not what I meant...

Tenn Kujo: Now you're just embarrassed.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Don't leave me out, either! That's mean!

Sogo Osaka: I think I'd feel more uncomfortable than anyone else in that equation...

Minami Natsume: Since there are four of us, does that mean one of us will be in each team?

Toma Inumaru: Good guess!

Torao Mido: Wait, seriously..?

Mitsuki Izumi: Don't look so  depressed. I guess you must be afraid of strangers, too.

Torao Mido: Not really... Wait, maybe I am a little bit?

Torao Mido: I used to be sociable, but I feel like there might've been a point where I became scared of celebrities...

Yuki: Oh, you poor thing.

Torao Mido: .........

Yuki: Show business can be scary.

Momo: Not everyone's as kind as we are!

Minami Natsume: Mido-san, what's the matter? You look tense...

Torao Mido: ...I think I unearthed some repressed memories just now...

Haruka Isumi: Hey, Toma. Who's in my team? Can you give me a hint?

Toma Inumaru: Just wait a little longer.

Riku Nanase: I'm getting kind of hungry. I should've brought a snack.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I've got snacks. Want some?

Nagi Rokuya: OH! Excuse me for a moment. It is time for new merchandise to be released.

Mitsuki Izumi: Hey, we're working.

Yuki: It's fine, this is just a meeting.

Minami Natsume: Would anyone like more coffee?

Gaku Yaotome: Me.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Could you pour me another cup, too? I don't need sugar or milk.

Iori Izumi: We're starting to lose focus...

Tenn Kujo: Everyone's having trouble concentrating. How far along have we gotten, so far?

Iori Izumi: We haven't gotten anywhere.

Tenn Kujo: ........

Iori Izumi: We're still at the starting line.

Nagi Rokuya: Whoo..! Bravo! I got it!

Riku Nanase: Wow! What did you buy!?

Nagi Rokuya: Something!

Riku Nanase: Something..?

Nagi Rokuya: The site is too crowded for the pictures to load... But I managed to complete an order!

Riku Nanase: Yay! That's great!  

Nagi Rokuya: Yay!

Iori Izumi: Congratulations. Now that Rokuya-san has made a successful purchase, let's return to the topic at hand.

Tenn Kujo: Before Tamaki Yotsuba gets bored beyond salvation again.

Minami Natsume: Again?

Tenn Kujo: Our three groups had a training camp together, and we played statues together.

Riku Nanase: That was so much fun! Yuki-san was so excited he wrote a song in one day.

Yuki: I wasn't excited, really. I would never have done that if it hadn't been for a work project.

Gaku Yaotome: We had to choreograph it in one day, too. That was tough!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: But it was a good experience! When did we all perform it, again? I don't remember...

Torao Mido: .........

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah...

Torao Mido: .........

Yamato Nikaido: This is so awkward... And the cameras are still rolling.

Mitsuki Izumi: I think a little awkwardness will do them good, honestly.

Mitsuki Izumi: ŹOOĻ might've done a favor for us, but they've done nothing but the opposite to TRIGGER.

Haruka Isumi: .........

Haruka Isumi: ......... ...I need to go to the bathroom...

Toma Inumaru: Haru.

Haruka Isumi: .........

Toma Inumaru: Don't go anywhere.

Haruka Isumi: ......... But...

Toma Inumaru: Stay here and watch. We decided not to run, remember?

Toma Inumaru: We couldn't keep running, remember? It'll be fine.

Haruka Isumi: .........

Minami Natsume: Look, Isumi-san. I'm holding your hand.

Tenn Kujo: ...Hehe.

Haruka Isumi: ...What?

Tenn Kujo: Stop frowning and listen. We'll tell you what happened, and what kind of song we made.

Haruka Isumi: ...I know already. It's the song they sang at Friends Day, right? And you guys were supposed to sing it with them.

Tenn Kujo: That's not all there is to it. We also had a fun time lodging together for the first time.

Haruka Isumi: .........

Tenn Kujo: We've got a song that brings back painful memories, too.   A song we can't bear to see, no matter how much we love it.

Riku Nanase: Ah... Could it be, our...

Iori Izumi: Hush, Nanase-san.

Tenn Kujo: Every time we heard it, our hearts would sting. But then someone told us something.

Tenn Kujo: That music ties people together. That we'd be tied together by it, too.

Haruka Isumi: ...Tied together by music...

Tenn Kujo: Exactly. Even if the first notes make your ears hurt, the song will eventually tie together...

Tenn Kujo: Our futures.

Haruka Isumi: .........

Haruka Isumi: ...Fine. I'll stay here and listen.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Let's sing Happy Days Creation!

Iori Izumi: Right now? Are you serious?

Gaku Yaotome: Yeah. Not for the cameras, just for us. I've been wanting to do it for ages.

Toma Inumaru: Yaotome...

Gaku Yaotome: We were in the audience for Friends Day. IDOLiSH7, you sang our song, right?

Gaku Yaotome: I was happy to hear your version of SECRET NIGHT.

Riku Nanase: ...Right.

Iori Izumi: ........

Momo: Ahaha. Okay, let's do it!

Yuki: Let's.

Gaku Yaotome: Thanks for going along with this, Re:vale.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Haha... ...Ahh, for some reason, I...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: ...Started crying, without even meaning to. Oh no...

Yamato Nikaido: Haha... You always have been quick to cry, Tsunashi-san.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Should we move the table? We can't just start dancing here with 12 people, can we?

Mitsuki Izumi: I bet TRIGGER would bump into it. Let's move it over there by a little.

Sogo Osaka: Around here?

Nagi Rokuya: OH! How nostalgic! It is as though we have gone back in time.

Nagi Rokuya: The moment that slipped through our fingers the first time is finally within our grasp.

Riku Nanase: Yeah!

Riku Nanase: Here we go! Stand right there and watch, ŹOOĻ!

Yuki: You're all so youthful.

Momo: You look pretty pleased yourself, Yuki.

Yuki: That's because writing that song was a struggle. Right, Sogo-kun?

Sogo Osaka: Right...

Sogo Osaka: I still remember how you strummed the guitar that night. It changed my life.

Yuki: Well said. You should put that in your autobiography.

Tenn Kujo: Let's do this.

Riku Nanase: Yeah!

Yuki: Happy Days Creation!

- - - -

Kaoru Anesagi: ...Sniffle... I never thought I'd get to see something like this...

Tsumugi Takanashi: ...It feels like I'm dreaming...

Banri Ogami: Tsumugi-san... Here, have a handkerchief.

Tsumugi Takanashi: Thank you...

Staff: This is great footage! We really appreciate being able to show their singing and dancing, even if this is a cooking show...

Rinto Okazaki: ...Sniffle...

Rinto Okazaki: Cut this out of the episode, please...

Staff: Huh!? Cut it!? So we can't use it!?

Kaoru Anesagi: No... Stop the cameras, please... Sniffle...

Staff: Oh, come on... That would be a waste of valuable footage...

Tsumugi Takanashi: ...Cut the cameras...

Staff: Seriously?

Kaoru Anesagi: Uuh... You three are incredible... 

- - - -

Momo: Phew, we really danced our hearts out.

Yamato Nikaido: Ah, we really did.

Riku Nanase: Ehehe! That was fun!

Yamato Nikaido: Sure was!

Yamato Nikaido: ........

Yamato Nikaido: That's all, folks!

Mitsuki Izumi: Wait, hold on! Don't just wave this all off with a smile!

Yamato Nikaido: Why not? That was the perfect moment for the end credits to start rolling.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: It did feel like closure of some kind!

Tenn Kujo: Nothing is over yet. The long hand on the clock has made one complete trip around the clock face, and we haven't gotten a single thing done.

Riku Nanase: What do you mean?

Iori Izumi: He means a full hour has passed. Weren't you taught how to tell the time by the time you  began grade school?

Riku Nanase: But he said it in such a roundabout way!

Tenn Kujo: I apologize, Nanase-san.

Iori Izumi: There you go again...

Tenn Kujo: Excuse me?

Iori Izumi: I was just thinking out loud about how over-indulgent certain people can be.

Riku Nanase: Now you're talking funny too, Iori! Is this a new trend or something?

Iori & Tenn: Just with us.

Toma Inumaru: 'Kay! So, about our divisions...

Tamaki Yotsuba: You're announcing the teams!?

Toma Inumaru: Yeah. Since everyone's so curious about the teams, I think I'll just reveal them now!

Sogo Osaka: Huh, are you sure? We haven't even decided on our menu yet...

Mitsuki Izumi: I know I was against it earlier, but maybe knowing our teams might help move the conversation along.

Toma Inumaru: Especially since there's 16 of us. 'Scuse me, may I reveal the teams now?

Toma Inumaru: ...Ah, they said it's fine!

Sogo Osaka: You're very proactive, Inumaru-san... I'm not very rock 'n' roll in that regard, myself.

Tamaki Yotsuba: You're plenty active already, trust me.

Toma Inumaru: Quit calling me "Inumaru-san". Just Toma is fine. We're the same age, remember?

Mitsuki Izumi: Oh, looks like our leads are forming a friendship.

Yamato Nikaido: Nice.

Sogo Osaka: Thank you, Toma. In that case, you may call me Osaka.

Torao Mido: That's not your first name, though.

Sogo Osaka: No, I meant to say Sogo.

Toma Inumaru: Hehe, this feels kinda awkward.

Sogo Osaka: Haha, it does.

Toma Inumaru: Alright, here I go. The first team is..!

Toma Inumaru: Iori Izumi, Yamato Nikaido, Tenn Kujo, and Haruka Isumi!

Iori Izumi: Hmm.

Yamato Nikaido: Oh, not too different from normal, then. Glad to have you.

Tenn Kujo: Glad to have you, too...

Haruka Isumi: What?!

Iori, Yamato, & Tenn: ........

Tenn Kujo: Haruka Isumi. Who is making you react the way you just did?

Iori Izumi: Certainly not me. It has to be either you, Kujo-san, or this grandpa.

Yamato Nikaido: Can you not call me a grandpa!? If I'm one, then so is Grandpa Gaku over there.

Gaku Yaotome: Did someone call me?

Yamato Nikaido: Don't respond when someone calls you a grandpa.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: He's right. Think of how that must make Yuki-san feel.

Yuki: It's fine. I'm 16 years old.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Huh? That can't be right. I could've sworn you were turning...

Momo: Ryu-chan! Just let it go!

Tenn Kujo: So, who's the one that made you yell out like that?

Haruka Isumi: ......... I couldn't help my shock at being in the same group as Tenn Kujo from TRIGGER...

Tenn Kujo: You're very honest. But also rude.

Haruka Isumi: I'm sorry...

Tenn Kujo: Hehe, and obedient.

Yamato Nikaido: As you're about to find out, having Kujo in your team makes things easier. He knows just about anything.

Tenn Kujo: I could say the same about you, or Iori Izumi.

Iori Izumi: I suppose you could call us Team Honor Students, then.

Haruka Isumi: I'm not an honor student.

Iori Izumi: I know. You can be our variety expert.

Haruka Isumi: Variety expert!? Like how..?

Yamato Nikaido: By being the funny man to all our straight man.

Tenn Kujo: Right.

Iori Izumi: Right.

Haruka Isumi: Funny man... I guess I'll try my best.

Tenn Kujo: Alright. We have the honor student team. Sogo Osaka, what are the other teams?

Sogo Osaka: Next up is, um...

Sogo Osaka: Mitsuki Izumi, Tamaki Yotsuba, Ryunosuke Tsunashi, and Toma Inumaru.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ooh! I get to be with Mikki! And Ryu-aniki! And Marucchi!

Mitsuki Izumi: Ahaha! Quit jumping around!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: He looks so happy! It's adorable!

Toma Inumaru: Ahaha, glad to have you! Okay, I guess we're borrowing your partner.

Sogo Osaka: Haha. Look after him, okay?

Yamato Nikaido: What's your team name?

Mitsuki Izumi: Team name!? I dunno. What do you think, Tamaki?

Tamaki Yotsuba: If Iorin's team is Team Honor Students, then we're rascals! Team Rascals!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: That's so cute! Let's all be rascals, then!

Toma Inumaru: Yep! On to the next team!

Toma Inumaru: Sogo Osaka! Nagi Rokuya! Momo-san! Tora!

Sogo Osaka: It's a pleasure to be working with you.

Nagi Rokuya: OH! It is a pleasure!

Torao Mido: The pleasure's all mine.

Momo: I'm surrounded by rich boys!

Sogo Osaka: You're rich yourself, Momo-san. Like the... I... I... I...

Torao Mido: You okay?

Nagi Rokuya: OH! The ita car! They made an ita car for TRIGGER!

Gaku Yaotome: That thing was a big help for us.

Momo: I know, but unlike you guys, I'm nouveau riche! You guys are the real deal!

Torao Mido: The real deal...

Momo: Just because I look like a celeb doesn't mean I am one on the inside.

Momo: I probably couldn't tell the difference between caviar and flying fish roe that's just been dyed black...

Sogo Osaka: What makes you say that?

Nagi Rokuya: OH... Are you feeling ill?

Momo: Don't look at me with your pure celeb eyes..!

Toma Inumaru: So what's your team name?

Torao Mido: Team Celeb?

Momo: You're really driving me into a corner, huh!?

Nagi Rokuya: OH, worry not, Mister Momo.

Nagi Rokuya: Our status may not affect our senses as much as you think.

Nagi Rokuya: It will merely allow us to feel a single pea underneath countless mattresses.

Momo: That means you have to be super well-bred... I guess you are a prince, after all...

Nagi Rokuya: Hiii.

Momo: A prince winked at me! I'll do my best..!

Sogo Osaka: Well then, that leaves the last team.

Sogo Osaka: Riku-kun, Yaotome-san, Yuki-san, and Natsume-san.

Riku Nanase: Wow! One of each!

Yuki: Ah, you're right.

Gaku Yaotome: And we're the only ones. Awesome!

Minami Natsume: ......? "One of each"? What do you mean?

Riku Nanase: Our team is the only one that has someone from IDOLiSH7, TRIGGER, Re:vale, and ŹOOĻ.

Minami Natsume: Ah... That's true.

Nagi Rokuya: OH! How wonderful! You are like a symbol of our peace.

Yuki: What about Momo's team?

Momo: We don't have anyone from TRIGGER.

Gaku Yaotome: We've got someone representing every group. I bet we'll have a fun time filming!

Riku Nanase: True! We can share stories about our groups!

Minami Natsume: I look forward to working with you all. Well then, as Rokuya-san so aptly referred to us, let's call ourselves Team Peace.

Yuki: Sounds good to me.

Gaku Yaotome: I doubt any of us would get into a fight, anyway!

Riku Nanase: Let's all work together!

Toma Inumaru: Alright! That's it for the teams!

Sogo Osaka: Let's begin coming up with idol-themed dishes.

Mitsuki Izumi: Finally!

Yamato Nikaido: We're finally getting started!

Gaku Yaotome: Let's give a round of applause!

Torao Mido: ...Are you guys always like this?

Sogo Osaka: Yes, we are.

Momo: Okay, let's keep going!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Let's do our best! 

To be continued...

#idolish7 #anniversary story 2020 #translation #i7 #trigger #re:vale #zool #other translations

[secretgamergirl]

We really need 1:1 time passage in games.

I play a lot of games. I particularly play a whole lot of RPGs, strategy things, survival games, and these all tend to be games that try to create an extra sense of immersion with hunger, thirst, and a day night cycle. And WOW do they ever end up doing the exact opposite with the implementation!

Like, let’s just start with food. If I am playing a survival game, and I choose not to eat for a while, my little hunger meter will bottom out, and I will start taking damage then eventually die. This tends to take like, one real life hour/in-game day, give or take to kick in, and then death comes within like, maybe 5 minutes if they’re generous? And I stave this off by... usually finding, killing, cooking, and eating, 2 entire turkeys per real hour/in-game day.

So... what the hell is any of that!?

So we have hunger, and we’re representing it as this slowly draining meter you have to keep an eye on. Already, that’s just weird. In my experience, you can go an entire day, not eating a damn thing, and not feel a thing out of the ordinary. But when you do actually get hungry, it can be overwhelming and impossible to ignore (have you eaten yet today by the way? My meal schedule’s gotten totally weird). Nothing about that makes sense to simulate as a slowly lowering bar. If you want realism, you have absolutely no onscreen hunger meter, and then like every 4-24 hours or so you have some incredibly distracting hunger indicator kick in and stay kicked in. Like, activate rumble packs and leave’em going at a steady pulse sort of annoying. And it gets worse when you’re actually preparing food.

Also feeling hungry is not an early indicator that you are going to suddenly die of starvation, or even that you’re anywhere near that point. I had dinner 6 hours ago, I’m a little hungry now. It varies a lot, but actually starving to death can take upwards of going TWO WHOLE MONTHS without any food at all. Like if we’re representing that as a meter, “hungry” kicks in when it drops to 99% full. Starvation is not a particularly common cause of death. If you’re dying of starvation, either someone is intentionally starving you to death, or some horrific catastrophe has just wiped out completely absolutely every potential food source in an area you somehow cannot wander your way out of even if you have months to do so. Relevant real world fact- Any time you see stuff about people dying of starvation, that’s never “farming just is not a thing that works in this area,” it’s “some malicious tyrant is actively preventing these people from accessing food in a deliberate effort to cause them to starve.” It’s really not actually a concern in any sort of survival story, unless we’re going real long term.

Meanwhile, have game designers ever actually, like, eaten food? Like I said, 2 whole turkeys per real hour/game day seems to be the going standard and like... have you had a turkey? I live in America, there is this tradition on Thanksgiving to go get a turkey, spend a day cooking it, and serving it as part of a meal served to one’s whole extended family. You’ve got that one turkey (granted, generally with a lot of side dishes) feeding like... a dozen people, easily. And at the end of the day, you’ve only MAYBE collectively made your way through like half a breast. You carve up a bunch more and send everyone home with a ton of leftovers. Then you’ve still got this giant mountain of turkey left, and you’re eating it for like the next week until you’re completely sick of turkey and throw the rest out, with plenty of meat entirely uneaten on the bird. Or hey, do you eat hamburgers? You know how the standard for a really kinda too big to responsibly be ordering it hamburger is “a quarter-pounder?” Which refers to the 0.25 lbs. of meat on the bun? Just quickly googling “beef weight” and copying the preview text from the oddly named first hit, on beef2live.com... “An average beef animal weighs about 1200 pounds and has a hanging hot carcass weight (HCW) of about 750 pounds.“ I can’t honestly say I know what “hanging hot carcass weight” is and I kinda doing want to, but I’m assuming that’s how much you have to work with after stripping out all the bones and organs and such. Multiply that by 4 to get how many oversized burgers you get out of one “beef animal” (why does it not say cow? I’m growing increasingly unsettled)- 3000 burgers. Give or take. You go smack that one Mnecraft cow with your sword, you should be fine for like 5 years. At least assuming we’re not simulating food spoilage. And if we are, HEY THAT TAKES SIGNIFICANTLY LONGER THAN ONE DAY, 2 IF YOU SALT IT!

And I mean, on top of that, we’ve got this whole standard I keep citing of 1 real world hour/1 in-game day. That kinda seems to be one of the more common standards for the passage of time video games use. That or 1 minute=1 hour. And I... really don’t understand why we have these scales?

Like, the earliest example of a day/night cycle in a game is Dragon Quest 3, where 1 steps on the over world map=12 minutes passing, or 120 steps=1 day. That’s a weird scale I’m having to use, but that’s because as the most traditional of JRPGs, DQ3′s sense of both time AND space are super abstracted and walking a short distance across the world map is this super compressed and simplified conveyance of a big long epic journey through the untamed wilderness. The first games I can think of offhand to really do it as a real time elapsed ratio thing are like... The Sims and GTA 3? Let me look at each of those in turn in a bit here.

So, The Sims has to pass days pretty quick, because that’s like, the whole idea. We’re watching this little household drama unfold in a compressed time scale... but the scale is really messed up? Like, we start off pretty simple. Sims work their shifts of like 9-5 on the in-game clock, need an appropriate amount of sleep... but then MOST things have timing based off having animations play at a reasonable pace, which is to say, 1 to 1 time, not 1 to 60. It takes like 3 in-game minutes for a Sim to get up out of a chair, several more minutes to walk to the kitchen and even start cooking, altogether just getting up, making a meal, cleaning up, and sitting back down is going to end up being this hours long affair, most of that being travel time from one room to another. It’s weird, and practically speaking you end up having them eat one meal, use the toilet once, and take a shower once per in game day, because less than that problems occur, and more than that, it’s a huge pain. And forget conversations. Those are like 12 hour commitments.

And then we have GTA3, where 1 real minute=1 in game hour... and this isn’t tied to anything in-game at all really. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, nothing really has business hours to deal with, the whole day/night cycle is just there to give you a nice cycling change of scenery... and also again, breaks immersion, because the animation speed is 1:1. According to a video I just watched, walking end to end across the map of GTA3 takes a full 48 in-game hours (121 in GTA5). And I mean... there’s races, and high speed chases, and all this other stuff that according to the in-game clock are at such slow speeds you can barely tell anything’s moving. It’s weird and arbitrary! And also unnecessary! Like, I’m pretty sure I sank at least 80 hours into my first playthrough of GTA3. I definitely spent enough time cruising around any given island that if time passed in a 1:1 ratio, I’d still see what everything looked like at every time of day. And hell if you rigged it up to a real world clock I could plan around that, do all the cool missions right at sundown.

But I mean, also, there’s these things called movies and TV shows? You may have heard of them, because it’s where games get a whole bunch of terms they use all the time. Like camera, and scene. So the thing there is, when, say, a movie switches to a new scene, they’ll often arbitrarily jump the day/night cycle ahead by several in-movie hours, or even days, so the lighting is appropriate to what’s going to happen in that scene. You can actually just... do that in games, too. It’s OK. Nobody’s going to stop you or say it’s breaking immersion. I talk to this guy to start this mission at what’s clearly noon, then we fade to back, and I come back out onto the street late at night so I can do this daring nighttime raid. That’s.. OK. You can do that. Honest. No need to have the sun doing crazy fast laps in the background.

Anyway, other games since have all copied that time scale, because blindly copying things from GTA3 was kinda... how people made games for a good stretch of time (and yeah yeah yeah, Elder Scrolls was probably already doing it, whatever... hell so was Robinson’s Requiem I’m pretty sure, and Drakken I know was paced something like that). But anyway, we mixed that sort of time scale with Survival Gameplay and we’re just kinda mashing these problems together. We’re doing everything in this one to one time scale, but the in-game clock is running at like 60 times that, and our already ridiculous food intake needs are downright absurd, and suddenly we’re destroying absolutely all life on sight to sate our ever-present ravenous hunger (and possibly never sleeping).

And like... survival games don’t actually need that? Like the interesting bits of the angle are finding sources of things like clean water and shelter so you don’t die of exposure once the sun’s down and stuff. And these are things you really just need to do once and you’re set. You could... basically set up a whole game, running in real time, where these are early potential fail states. Get some kind of shelter set up within the first 5 hours or so, sleep to advance straight to the next day after pulling that off, then you have like 3 days total to find drinkable water, and... honestly at that point we’re talking like a good 45 minutes of gameplay and you could really end it there, or start your last goal. But instead, no, we’re making some kinda crude axe/bow and killing everything to eat.

Not only is it not realistic, not only does it take me out of the experience by checking the math, the whole affair feels kinda like I’m being put through someone’s weird hyper-masculine cargo cult fantasy of what it would have been like if they grew up Hunting With Dad and like.... OK people who actually do that still kill like one animal, then drag it home, throw it in a big fridge, and eat it for quite a long time, or sell it, or leave it to rot because they’re just really into ending the lives of innocent creatures and don’t want weird gamey meat at all.

So yeah, just let time be time, and don’t ever actually make me eat if we’re trying for some kind of gritty realism thing. I really don’t get hungry nearly that often and fill up quick.

#game design #survival

[jokertrap-ran]

[Stand My Heroes] Case File:研究対象Sの記録 (Case File: Records on Research Subject S) Event Story: Investigation ④～⑥ Translations

*Master-list is in progress *MC name is retained default Izumi Rei

Part 1 / Part 2

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Hallway ☆⋅⋆

Sugano: Hmm, this is rather soft for a collar.

Rei: It’s a hand, not a collar…Plus, you’re the one who’s holding onto my hand…

Sugano: Is that so?

--That’s right. The “Collar” he was talking about, was actually just, in fact, “Holding hands”.

Rei: (Still…)

Sugano: I wonder where Sosei-san’s room is at…

Rei: (…I kind of feel like I’ve been played for a fool.)

Rei: (Judging from the expression that Asagiri-san, who had been standing guard outside the room, had on his face…)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

--Just now, when I had left the room hand-in-hand with Sugano-kun…

Sugano: Tsukasa-san, Rei and I are gonna pay a visit to Sosei-san’s room for a bit~

Asagiri: ----

He had an unreadable expression on his face as his eyes moved to glance down at our adjoined hands.

Rei: W-We’ll be going then…

Asagiri: …Hold up.

Rei: !

Sugano: What is it?

Asagiri: That…your hands.

Rei: !!

Sugano: What about it?

Asagiri: Did you go through the Antibacterial Lasers properly before joining hands?

Rei: ……What?

Asagiri: He has never left this place in a long time.

Asagiri: It’d be bad if you brought the flu virus in with you or something since you came from another place outside yesterday.

Rei: Okay…?

Sugano: Ahaha. Don’t worry, we went through the Antibacterial Lasers.

By the way, they might be called Antibacterial Lasers, but all we actually did was to put both our hands into a special device that emitted a special laser beam; and then, oh, what a surprise!

It’s a man-made device capable of killing 99.9999% of all potentially harmful viruses that affect the human body.

Asagiri: Then it’s fine. –-I think Sosei’s still sleeping.

Sugano: We’ll add a walk to the trip then. Thank you~

--And so, that happened.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Rei: (I can’t really come to a definite conclusion all on my own just based on Asagiri-san’s reaction alone…)

Sugano: Hey, Rei?

Rei: Hm?

He grinned and gave my hand a squeeze.

Sugano: Your hand’s really warm.

Rei: Huh?

Sugano: I feel really touched by it, since it’s been such a long time since I’ve had contact with another person.

Rei: Sugano-kun…

Sugano: Oh, that’s Sosei-san’s over there. Let’s wake him up if he’s still asleep!

Rei: Right, let’s go.

Rei: (…Well, I suppose it’s fine. Even if this is just a “Collar”.)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

And that was how my day as a communicator ended successfully without a hitch.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Laboratory ☆⋅⋆

There were times during my life in the facility, where Sugano-kun had been off-limits. And during those times, I turned to…

Yui: It has finally been completed!

Watabe: Congratulations; you’re finally done.

Beside Watabe-san, who seemed to be eating some DIY Sweets made in the Research Facility itself, was… Yui-san, who held up a small bottle of questionable luminescent liquid which colour could not really be identified.

Rei: Um, what is this…exactly…?

Yui: This is the new version of the Nutritional Drink that I’ve been painstakingly working on for the past 2 weeks!

Rei: A Nutritional Drink…

Suddenly, I recalled a snippet of a conversation I overheard just the other day.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Arakida: I have. I lost 3 days to sleep…

Natsume: But that was Kotaro-san’s Nutritional Drink at work so that’s not my fault!

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Rei: ……

Arakida-san had been lying in bed, looking blue in the face when I had visited him together with Sugano-kun.

Rei: (That was because of that shady Headgear, but still…)

Yui: I’ll give you the right to participate in its Clinical Trial.

Rei: ……What?

Yui: It’s truly an honour, don’t you think? I’m the leading researcher when it comes to Nutritional Drinks.

Watabe: Only within this facility, though.

Yui: Now, feel free to drink it. It will make all the stress you have piled up and the fatigue you feel while working as a communicator disappear.

He handed my the dodgey-looking liquid— Or, well, a Nutritional Drink, as he called it. And I…

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Room ☆⋅⋆

Sugano: --Eh!? You drank it…!?

Rei: Yeah…Well, I couldn’t really turn him down.

Sugano: So, were you okay? Don’t you feel sluggish or pain anywhere?

Rei: Well…

Sugano: Mmngh…

Rei: I was really energized and refreshed by it.

Sugano: Eh--?

Rei: It really made my exhaustion disappear!

Sugano: What~ You really had me worried for a second there!

Rei: Ahaha, sorry for how I built up the suspense, only for it to end there.

Sugano: Not at all, the thrill was nice.

Sugano: Still, I wonder why Sosei-san ended up in bed after drinking the same thing.

Rei: That’s because the Nutritional Drink I drank was one that had been revised after having gathered the data from the failed version that Arakida-san drank.

Sugano: Then, you’ll have to thank Sosei-san for taking the bullet for you.

Rei: I know, right?

Sugano: I can totally tell that he’d look absolutely disgruntled by it if you thank him.

Rei: Ahaha, I can imagine.

Sugano: Haha.

It has already been about 15 days since I got to talk to him like this.

Rei: (I was really worried about how things would go at first, but turns out, it’s actually surprisingly fun here.)

Sugano: Haa~ That was a real good laugh. I’m so glad you came here!

Rei: I’m glad that you’re the one I’m assigned to for my job as well.

Sugano: Eh~ Did you really have to mention that it’s your job?

Rei: Oh, sorry…

Sugano: Don’t apologise.

Sugano: I like people who are passionate about their work.

Sugano: I heard that the person who created this Research Facility…Someone who’s been here before You-san…was also someone passionate about their work.

Rei: That’s right. The one who created this facility was none other than the Previous Chief.

Sugano: Yeah.

Suddenly, all signs of his previous joy drained from his face.

Sugano: …I wonder what they’re up to right now?

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Room ☆⋅⋆

Rei: Do you not know?

Sugano: Rather that not knowing, I simply chose not to.

Rei: ……?

Sugano: But, I believe that You-san believes in that person’s justice.

Rei: …………

--Silence descended upon us.

This was the first time that I’ve been rendered speechless ever since I made contact with Sugano-kun.

Rei: …Um,

Sugano: Rei, what did you originally do on the outside?

Rei: Huh?

Sugano: Let me hear more about you.

I could tell that he didn’t want to talk about the “Previous Chief”, considering how he changed the topic like that.

Rei: I was a normal Office Lady (OL) out there.

Sugano: Heh~ What kinda company?

Rei: A pharmaceutical one.

Sugano: What about a boyfriend?

Rei: I see that you’ve taken to suddenly changing topics with your questions.

Sugano: It’s fine, isn’t it? Or is it a secret?

Rei: (I don’t have one…)

But he had this air around him that made him seem like he’d tease me endlessly about it if I just told him outright, right off the bat, that I “didn’t have a boyfriend”.

Rei: …Yeah, it’s a secret.

Sugano: Oh, so you don’t have one.

Rei: How did I get found out!?

Sugano: Your face.

Rei: EHHH!?

Sugano: I lied. It was just my gut instincts, also partly my own wishes.

Rei: Ehh…

Sugano: Say, Rei…Don’t you ever grow to miss the world outside?

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Room ☆⋅⋆

Rei: (Miss the world outside…?)

In my head, the line “You too. You more than I” came up. And I was about to reply in kind, only to stop short because I was stepping into a dangerous zone. Because this topic fell under the “Forbidden Conversation Topics” that I had been handed before I began this job.

Sugano: You can’t go out either; not while you’re stuck down here as my assigned communicator, right?

Sugano: So, Don’t you miss your normal life?

Rei: …Of course I miss it; normally.

Sugano: …Okay, thanks.

Rei: Why are you thanking me?

Sugano: Because I didn’t need a textbook reply of “Of course not”.

Rei: ……

Sugano: I’m sure you want to hear about what I think too, right?

Rei: Mngh—

Sugano: You see, I’m really fine with anything either way.

Rei: …Even if you’ll remain here forever?

Sugano: I’ve come to know people like You-san really well. And it’s not like it’s all that uncomfortable living here either.

Sugano: Oh, but I could become a candidate for your boyfriend if I got out of here and regained my freedom.

Rei: --

I felt a pang in my chest.

Rei: (I’d almost forgotten about it, but now that we’re on this topic…)

Rei: (He’s someone who cannot leave this place of his own free will.)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Hallway ☆⋅⋆

--Nightfall.

It was a time where I wasn’t allowed to make contact with Sugano-kun. I left the confines of my room, feel a sudden unexplained hunger out of the blue.

Rei: (I’m hungry…I feel like I’ve started to become a gourmet ever since I drank that Nutritional Drink that Yui-san made…)

Miyase: --Oh?

Rei: --!

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Hallway ☆⋅⋆

Miyase: You’re…If I remember correctly, aren’t you the communicator assigned to Sugano-kun?

Rei: Yes, that’s right. I’m Rei—No, I’m No. 1230!

Miyase: Fufu, so Rei-san, is it? I’m Miyase.

Miyase: I’m in charge of cleaning and preparing food in this Research Facility.

Rei: Ahh!! Thank you so much for the delicious food that’s always being served!

Miyase: Same here; thank you for always eating it all so deliciously.

Rei: (How do I put this…? He really feels like he has this fluffy, warm and homely air around him.)

Miyase: By the way, where are you heading at this hour?

Rei: Oh, sorry…I’m actually feeling kinda hungry, so…

Miyase: I see, what nice timing.

Miyase: Here, how about you take these cookies I have here and have it for supper?

Rei: Whoa, that looks so delicious! Can I really have them?

Miyase: Of course. I made it for my brother, who has a sweet-tooth, but I accidentally made a little too much.

Rei: You have a brother…?

Miyase: He’s being kept as a subject in this Research Facility.

Rei: Eh--

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Hallway ☆⋅⋆

Rei: Your brother’s here too?

Miyase: Yeah.

Rei: (H-How am I supposed to reply to that…?)

Miyase: What do you talk about with Sugano-kun?

Rei: Huh? Oh…Just normal conversational topics.

Miyase: Did he ever mention anything about wanting to get out of here?

Rei: --

Rei: (I wonder what he’s trying to get at with this conversation…)

I gave him a hesitant glance as the smile disappeared from his face.

Miyase: …I apologize. I’ve said something weird, haven’t I?

Rei: No—

Miyase: My brother; he doesn’t want to get out of here.

Rei: Eh…?

Miyase: I suppose this facility most probably gathers “People with the strongest will”.

Miyase: Perhaps that’s the trait that they’re trying to research here, in this facility—Or at least, that’s what I think.

Rei: People who have the strongest of wills…

Miyase: For example, those who have a sense of justice. The self-sacrificial ones,

Miyase: Or those that hold a burning hatred within them and the like…

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Hallway ☆⋅⋆

Rei: What…What are you trying to say?

Miyase: Those with a strong enough will, will get out of here someday, eventually.

Miyase: At the same time, I suppose that there are also people being held captive here with an equally strong will, despite being unable to escape.

Miyase: Like those who are too cowardly to break out of these chains…Or those who lie continuously, twisting and turning their words to their advantage on a whim.

Rei: Um…It would be…appreciated it you could speak it in a way so that even I can understand what you’re talking about…

Miyase: Fufu, I’ve spoken too much. I’ll take my leave now since my brother’s still waiting for me.

Rei: Miyase-san—

Miyase: Please keep the conversation we just had a secret.

Rei: (…What’s he talking about?)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Room ☆⋅⋆

--The next day.

Rei: Pardon m——Ah.

Rei: My apologies. I didn’t know that you were here, Hattori-san.

Hattori: No worries; I’m already done here.

Sugano: --

Hattori: See you then. Be a good boy, alright?

Sugano: …………

Rei: (What’s with the…ill-feeling atmosphere in here?)

Hattori-san made his exit from the room, seemingly unaffected.

Sugano: …Sorry, Rei.

Rei: Huh?

Sugano: I don’t think I’m up for conversation today…Sorry, I just don’t feel it.

Rei: Ah…Don’t worry about it, I understand. Then I’ll be taking my le-

Sugano: Wait.

Rei: --?

Sugano: …No, it’s nothing. Sorry.

Rei: (Sugano-kun…?)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Private Room ☆⋅⋆

(…Sugano-kun was acting weird.)

Time had passed ever since the conversation we had during the afternoon. Now, night had already fallen, and he didn’t call for me even once.

Rei: (Although, making contact is forbidden at this time of the day to begin with…)

Lost to my thoughts, the buzzer of my room suddenly sparked to life. And when I pressed the remote to open the door—

Imaoji: --Sorry for disturbing you this late at night.

Rei: Imaoji-san? Is something the matter?

Imaoji: Sugano-kun has called for you.

Rei: What? But…

Imaoji: Will you come with me?

Rei: …Alright.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Room ☆⋅⋆

Sugano: Oh, I was waiting.

Rei: What’s up? It’s pretty late in the night now.

Sugano: We didn’t manage to talk in the afternoon so,

Sugano: --Won’t you come closer to me?

Rei: …Okay.

I stepped forwards, towards him…One step, two steps, and then—

Rei: Wha-!?

I was suddenly wrapped in his embrace.

Sugano: …Go on a date with me if I ever meet you outside.

Rei: Huh--?

Sugano-kun held me in his embrace, smiling up at the surveillance camera in the room.

Sugano: --Tsukasa-san? I’m sure you’re seeing this, aren’t you?

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Monitoring Room ☆⋅⋆

Asagiri: --

Arakida: Natsuki…

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Room ☆⋅⋆

He looked up at the surveillance camera and spoke in light tones.

Sugano: I have a reason why I absolutely get out of this place.

Sugano: The official statement released by the great man of this country will be “A subject had held a communicator hostage, seeking his release in exchange.”

Sugano: Now, don’t you think this is perfect?

Rei: (Hostage…!?)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Monitoring Room ☆⋅⋆

Arakida: What should we do—

Asagiri: …………

Arakida: Tsukasa-san.

Asagiri: --It’ll probably be useless, even if we try to stop him.

Asagiri: Mngh—

Asagiri: Disable the locks on his gate.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

A blaring siren sounded in response, but the door opened.

Sugano: See you then, Rei.

Rei: Ngh-!

He turned away as soon as he released me; stepping outside, to his freedom.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Research Facility: Outside ☆⋅⋆

Rei: --Sugano-kun!

Sugano: --Huh? You came running after me?

Rei: Not…Not because I want to stop you, but-

Sugano: --

Rei: There’s just something I want to ask you.

Sugano: …Which is?

Rei: Why do you want to escape this place?

Sugano: --

Rei: Do you feel a strong urge of something within your heart…?

“Humans with the strongest of wills”, Miyase-san had mentioned. I wanted to know if he had something like that within him; that’s why I came after him.

Sugano: In my heart…

Sugano: …There lies a justice, one where I’ll protect those important to me, no matter what I have to do, so that they won’t be hurt.

Rei: Justice…

Sugano: I don’t expect you to understand me.

Sugano: Bye bye; this time for real.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Monitoring Room ☆⋅⋆

Arakida: Won’t Natsuki go down in the mud, alone, if you release him like that?

Asagiri: Even so, there’s no way I could have stopped him. What Natsuki has within him is— Stubborn, unfaltering, self-sacrifice.

Arakida: Ngh…

Asagiri: But, that’s also a form of Justice. Having said that, I don’t intend on letting him go quietly either.

Asagiri: Let’s think of what we can do.

Arakida: …Roger.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

And then, Sugano-kun who was surrounded in mystery disappeared. And his destination, was…

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Izakaya ☆⋅⋆

Shop Employee: Sorry to keep you waiting, here’s your Fried Oyster Set!

Them: --

Sugano: --Okay, I suppose that’s all for now.

Rei: Aw…I’m so curious about the continuation!

Asagiri: Speaking of the continuation, I don’t understand it at all considering how the mystery is how it is and the hints are too scattered to even piece together.

Rei: What happened to the in-house chef whose brother was being held captive there in the end…?

Sugano: Who knows?

Seki: I wonder what the relationship between the previous chief and the current one…

Asagiri: I can’t help but to think of the supervisor guy who called the main character out during the period of time where contact was prohibited fishy as well.

Rei: Oh, I thought that strange as well.

Seki: I don’t think the motive of why that Research Facility was even created was even clearly stated to begin with…

Sugano: Haha, I told you; I don’t know!

Sugano: It’s an unfinished work written by a criminal, so even I don’t know what’s gonna happen!

Them: …………

Shop Employee: Sorry to keep you waiting, here’s your Ramen Set and Mixed-fry Sets!

Seki: …Thank you.

Shop Employee: Enjoy!

Seki: Well, I suppose we should dig in while it’s still warm.

Asagiri: We should.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Izakaya ☆⋅⋆

Sugano: Thank you for the food~ …Before that, water, water. I’m parched from having talked so much. I poured my half-full glass of water into his.

Sugano: Thanks.

Rei: Not at all. Still, I’m amazed at how you managed to recall everything down to the smallest detail.

Sugano: It was a rather interesting read, unexpectedly. Well, I did dramatize some of the parts I remembered, but I also did think a little about it’s continuation.

Rei: Amazing! How do you see it being…?

Sugano: Before I continue, what do you think will be the continuation of this story, Rei?

Rei: Hmm…I can’t really think of all the complicated details because I’m lacking in the imagination department, but I suppose…

Rei: I suppose a Happy Ending would be great, ahaha~

Sugano: Sounds just like you. What about you, Tsukasa-san? What do you think?

Asagiri: --There was talk about “Justice” throughout the entire story, but I didn’t seem to hear an inkling about the word “Evil” or anything resembling it.

Asagiri: If this story were to be continued, I suppose justice would have won with an overwhelming victory, bringing the story to a close.

Sugano: What a conclusive answer from inference.

Asagiri: Do you have a problem with it?

Sugano: No, I just think that my respect for you has just gone up.

Sugano: How about you, Seki-san?

Seki: Eh…Do I have to answer?

Sugano: Well, you don’t really have to. Although, it’s not really common for us to have the time to talk like this over a meal and all, you know?

Seki: You’ve got a point…

Seki: …It might be hard, but I hope that we can see their hopes for the future; no matter from whichever character’s point of view.

Rei: You have my respect, Seki-san.

Seki: Haha, thanks.

Asagiri: I don’t think all people talk about are delusions and fantasies.

Sugano: Even I do, sometimes!

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Izakaya ☆⋅⋆

Sugano: Hmm…In the continuation that I thought of, the guy who escaped from the Research Facility would see his goal of getting out through—

Sugano: And then the people important to him will all live happily ever after! Cheers, banzai~♪

Rei: ……??

Sugano: What’s with that face you’re making?

Rei: I mean, based on what you’ve just said…Whatever happened to “Him” himself?

Sugano: Huh?

Rei: Huh?

Sugano: Oh- I see. Well…I suppose he straight out died off the bat or got caught and was shipped back to the facility or something?

Rei: Ehh…

Asagiri: Why is the ending so sloppily-handled?

Sugano: Is it?

Sugano: I mean, he left the place because he was already prepared for whatever would come after, in order to fulfill the goal he had in mind.

Sugano: Therefore, wouldn’t it be natural to place the least priority on himself?

Asagiri: --I think not.

Seki: Yeah. It’s rather painful and frustrating when a solution is made upon another’s sacrifice.

I felt the same way as Seki-san did.

Rei: (But…)

I feel as if it was pointless even if I tried explaining it to Sugano-kun as he was busy devouring his Fried Oyster Set…

Sugano: Haha, the atmosphere in here has turned all serious all of a sudden. It’s all just fiction, you know?

Sugano: --Mm! The Fried Scallops here are really the best!

Rei: (…One day.)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

It would be great if I could come back to this subject one day, and have a serious discussion about it with Sugano-kun… --Strangely enough, when think that it will happen one day, I feel like it will happen for sure, eventually.

───⋅𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐸𝒩𝒟⋅☆

#Stand My Heroes #スタンドマイヒーローズ #スタマイ #Sutamai #Translations #Otome #Case File:研究対象Sの記録 #Case File: Records on Research Subject S #Sugano Natsuki #Arakida Sosei #Natsume Haru #Imaoji Shun #Watabe Satoru #Hattori You #Seki Daisuke #Aoyama Itsuki #Yui Kotaro #Asagiri Tsukasa #Miyase Go

[spaceskam]

23 + davenzi

sorry this was late as hell. special thanks to this soulmate au idea

warning: mentions of suicide

Matteo didn’t know what he was expecting.

He’d heard his whole life of this magical day where, when the clock struck midnight on his 18th birthday, his world would freeze and only he and his soulmate would be unfrozen, free to spend their day together and unbothered.  Of course, everyone else would go on with their day.  It was like the universe would put you and that special someone on a whole new plane of existence.

However, no one really talked about what happened if you didn’t know your soulmate at 18 or couldn’t find them during that day.  He’d searched on it for weeks leading up to the day, reading forum after forum of horror stories.  He’d read more than one on clinically depressed people who spiraled, 24 hours of being absolutely alone with their own head being far too much.  Or anxious people who panicked until they couldn’t take it.  He even read a few who had attempted suicide.  Matteo was hoping he wouldn’t end up in that state of mind.

Still, as he looked around the party that Jonas had thrown and invited the whole school to, he desperately wanted to see someone as unfrozen as he was.  A lonely, pathetic part of him looked to Jonas, hoping he’d be moving.  But he wasn’t, he was frozen with a giant ass smile on face while looking straight at Hanna.  Of course.

“Anyone else unfrozen in here?” Matteo called, a last-ditch attempt at seeing if his soulmate was here.  He wasn’t.

A sigh pushed out of his chest, glancing around as he pushed himself towards the kitchen.  He really started understanding how people could feel so overwhelmed and paranoid by this.  It was disturbing, something out of a horror movie where everyone was so fucking far away from him and he couldn’t do anything about it.  He was alone.

He hoped whoever his soulmate is was coping with it.

Matteo moved sluggishly as he got a cup of water and made his way to his bedroom. He really just wanted to sleep the day away. Maybe if he slept long enough, he could wake up and everyone would be unfrozen again.

So he went to bed.

-

Matteo woke to the sun rudely shining in through the window. With a groan, he reached for his phone to see it wasn’t even noon yet.  He groaned louder.  He continued to lay there for a moment, hoping to will himself to sleep again so he won’t have to spend the day with everyone completely frozen.

It was one thing to isolate yourself. It was another to be forced into it.

However, he could only take so much before he got too hungry.  So, he had to get up.  He didn’t bother getting dressed outside of adding a pair of sweats and a jacket and he didn’t bother staying inside either. He didn’t like staring at all the frozen people, but, since they froze at midnight, there shouldn’t be many people on the street.

It was the quietest Berlin had ever been and Matteo hated it. He usually loved the quiet, but it was too quiet. Overwhelmingly quiet.  Which was really fucking annoying.

Still, he made it to his favorite 24-hour sandwich shop and walked right in.  There wasn’t actually anyone there except an employee who was frozen in the back, so he let himself behind the counter.  He crafted a sandwich as best he could and left the money on the counter.  He didn’t know exactly how this worked if they’d even notice anything was gone or if they’d get any money, but it subdued his conscious and that’s really all he cared about.  Well, that and actually eating.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

Matteo froze, his eyes casting up with his sandwich partially hanging out of his mouth. In the doorway stood a guy who was staring him down with fuck-me eyes paired with a little smirk on his lips.  If this was his soulmate, and that’s what appeared to be the case, Matteo couldn’t say the universe did him dirty.  The guy was fucking hot.  Coffee colored skin, septum piercing, stunning… everything.

Everything seemed to slow down. He was way too perfect.  Mind-numbing, mouth-watering, body-aching type of perfect.

Then he bit his lip and his face slowly broke out into a wild grin, his entire face beaming. Matteo nearly fainted right then and there. Who the hell was allowed to go from that hot to that cute that fast?  And why the hell were they his?

“Sorry, sorry, that was bad. In my defense, I thought I had some time to come up with a better pick-up line. Go figure that you’re older than me,” he said, stepping further into the shop. Matteo was frozen as he watched him.

This was fucking insane. How was someone that looked like him supposed to be Matteo’s soulmate? That didn’t make any sense.

The guy was still grinning as he leaned on the counter across from him, “I know you’re not frozen.”

Suddenly, Matteo remembered how to blink.

“Sorry, sorry,” Matteo said, swallowing the bite he’d taken and wiping his mouth. Maybe he should’ve actually tried to look nice.  “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” the guy chuckled, “I’m David.”

“Matteo.”

“Matteo,” David repeated, seeming to roll his name in his mouth and Matteo felt chills down his spine, “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Matteo murmured, taking him in once more before holding out his sandwich to him. David grinned but shook his head.

“I’m good, thank you.”

“So, uh, not to sound rude, but how did you find me? I mean, literally could’ve been anywhere,” Matteo pointed out. David shrugged his shoulders.

“I figured I should go to places I would go and hope for the best,” David explained, “I got lucky.”

Matteo gulped, “Yeah.”

“I just moved here too, so,” he paused, looking him very obviously up and down in a way that made Matteo’s stomach tighten, “Really lucky.”

They fell into a small vat of silence, staring at each other without any sense of shame as Matteo finished his food.  He could get used to this. David wasn’t overwhelming, he was just a calming presence that was apparently all his. He’d known that your soulmate was supposed to be calming, but Matteo hadn’t realized he would actually be getting one.  Well, he knew, but he didn’t know know. It didn’t feel real.

With David staring at him, it still didn’t.

“Wanna hang out?” Matteo managed to ask after he finished.  David blinked so slow Matteo wondered if he was fantasizing without realizing.

“That’s what we’re supposed to do, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but if, if you don’t want then‒” Matteo stopped himself, taking a deep breath. Jonas had told him that he just had to be smooth and the girl that the universe chose for him would fall for him immediately. Of course, Jonas was missing the giant ‘queer’ sign that hung over his head. Still, he had a point. Matteo dug in his pocket. “Fancy a joint?”

David glanced him up and down, “Yeah, sure.”

Matteo gave a grin, tucking the joint behind his ear and led the way outside. They leaned against the outside of the shop and the moment he lit up, he could feel the tension slip away. No more making a fool of himself in front of his soulmate.

His soulmate.

“So, what brings you here this close to the end of the school year?” Matteo asked.  David raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“You’re my soulmate apparently,” It was the first time either of them had said it out loud. Yeah, still insane. “Probably should get to know you.”

“Mm, maybe,” David said, tilting his head back against the wall. He brought the joint to his lips and suddenly became the cover of a magazine.

“You not gonna tell me?”

David turned his head to face him, “Killed someone. Had to go into hiding.

Matteo grinned helplessly, “Brutal.”

“I know.”

David was easy to talk to. That was obviously a good thing since they were soulmates. This was his person.  And his person was witty, hot, nice, and so much more that he would get to learn over a lifetime. He was so lucky.

“Wanna go see a movie?  I may or may not know how to work shit at a theatre,” David said, scrunching up his nose just a little bit when he gave that wide, wide smile.

“Let’s go.”

Within twenty minutes, Matteo found himself in a theatre alone with David and a movie he’d never heard of. He didn’t mind. Nor did he even really watch it.  He spent two hours with his head thrown back, staring at David and memorizing his face.

In that time spent memorizing, he also was faced with the reality that he didn’t really have a choice but to come out now.  His soulmate was a man‒and it definitely did not feel like a platonic soulmate‒and he wouldn’t be able to hide that for long.  Maybe he could lie for a while, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to even really come out. Maybe he could just introduce David as his soulmate and let everyone form their own opinion. He didn’t want to have to tell everyone, that just seemed so unnecessary. It’s his thing. He didn’t want to announce it to the world. He just wanted to say “this is David, he’s my soulmate” and have people roll with it.

Once the movie rolled to an end, they got back to talking.  He found out David was an artist, that he liked to dance, that he loved movies. Matteo couldn’t think of anything interesting about himself to share.

“So basically you’re super fucking interesting and I’m a boring ass, let down soulmate, okay,” Matteo said, laughing slightly. David rolled his eyes, shifting to face Matteo even more.

“No, you’re not boring, you’re… quiet and you’re funny. You… you’re a lot of things, I don’t know, I don’t think you’re a letdown,” David said. Oh yeah, he definitely got lucky in the soulmate department.

“Did you have anyone in mind of who your soulmate might’ve been?” Matteo bothered to ask. As much as he enjoyed hearing David say that he wasn’t a letdown, he also wasn’t one to enjoy being showered in compliments. That was enough to reassure him that David actually liked him.

“No, not really. Did you?” David asked. Silence fell over them once again as Matteo debated telling him about Jonas.  It felt like something stupid to admit since Jonas wasn’t really an option, he was more of a stupid hope.  However, this was his soulmate and what was the point of lying?

“Uh, kinda. My best friend,” Matteo admitted, looking down, “But I didn’t know if it’d be a platonic soulmate or not, I didn’t know what I was going to have.”

“I thought I was going to have a platonic soulmate,” David admitted.  Matteo furrowed his eyebrows as he looked up to him again.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, just didn’t think I’d ever have someone made for me, like, romantically. Thought I’d have to struggle to find that myself.”

“Well, what if we are platonic soulmates?” Matteo suggested though he hoped that wasn’t true. How awkward would it be to be attracted to you universe-decided best friend for life?

“I mean… Not to be rude, but I really hope not,” David said. His cheeks were tinted red and Matteo could feel his own matching it. “Do you?  Want us to be platonic?”

“No.”

“Good.”

What is the acceptable amount of time knowing someone before you kiss them?

There was something a lot more peaceful about the world being frozen when you weren’t alone anymore. He had someone to talk to, to joke with, to have dinner with, to walk around Berlin with and not have anyone interrupt them. It was like a getaway without all the bullshit that involved physically getting away. It was simple and easy and he wouldn’t have wanted to spend his day with anyone else aside from David.

As they headed back to Matteo’s place at nearly 10 at night, he was sold. The universe had given him the best gift. Part of him was even a little eager to introduce him to everyone. Just, eventually.  He wanted to keep him to himself for a little longer, to get to know him a little better.

“Holy shit, there’s a million fucking people here,” David said, huffing a laugh as he weaved through the people in Matteo’s apartment.

“Yeah, but my friend’s thought it was a good idea to invite everyone in the school so the girl of my dreams would be there to freeze with me,” Matteo feigned a wistful tone, grinning at David who snorted.

“They think you’re straight?”

“Yeah.”

“How? You’d set off anyone’s gaydar from a million miles away,” David joked, giggling even more when Matteo shoved him.  They were both smiling as he led him to his room.

“Welcome to me,” Matteo sighed, throwing his arms out and collapsing on his bed.

For the third time since he met David, the universe seemed to slow down as he watched him. David walked around the room, aimlessly touching things as he absorbed the space. Matteo hated having pretty much anyone in his space.

He liked David being there.

He liked it more when David fell to the bed beside him.

“You wanna stay the night?”

“Sure.”

Life got a little better when David changed into his clothes.

“I’m kind of going to miss the silence once the world wakes up,” Matteo admitted as David crawled under the blanket beside him, “I like being here with you.”

“I’ll still be here.”

Matteo smiled, “You got a point.”

David scooted closer, tucking his hand beneath his head. It was stupid, but it felt like they’d known each other forever. Everything was so ridiculously comfortable. He’d heard how great it was for soulmates, how everything made more sense.  He hadn’t expected it to feel this good.

He couldn’t wait until David’s 18th birthday so they could do this again.

Matteo reached out, his hand resting against David’s arm and tracing nonsensical shapes against his skin. In less than an hour, life would resume.  He wanted just this. He wanted just now.

“So,” David suddenly said, his eyes anywhere but Matteo’s, “There’s something I should probably tell you.”

“Okay.”

“I… I thought I had more time, honestly, and I’ve been thinking all day about when I should tell you.  But you’re my soulmate and I figure starting this whole thing with keeping secrets is probably a bad idea,” David said. Matteo’s eyebrows slowly pulled together in concern.

“What’s up?”

“I mean, I, I have like a rough draft of how I should tell my soulmate typed up on my phone if you wanted me to send it to you, or, like, let you read it. I could read it to you,” David offered, still not looking at him. Matteo thought about taking his hand off him.  Instead, he moved it to grab David’s nervous hand.

“Just say it.”

With a heavy breath, David said, “I’m trans.”

“Okay,” Matteo said, still staring at him. David finally, finally looked at him again.

“Is that okay?” he asked, a mix of confusion and hesitation scattered all over his face.

“Yeah,” Matteo agreed. He paused for a beat. “What does that mean exactly?”

David’s eyebrows instantly pulled together and he searched Matteo’s face a handful of times before breaking out into a wild smile.  Laughter was bubbling out of him as he asked, “You just said you were okay with it without even knowing what it means?”

“Yeah,” Matteo said. Even though he was still pretty confused, David’s smile was contagious and he gave one right back. “I mean, you’re my soulmate, you know? You’re literally specially crafted for me, so I’d eventually be okay with whatever you are. Why should waste time and energy?”

“You are insane,” David said, shaking his head, “But thank you.”

“What exactly does it mean, like, for you?”

“I, uh, it means…” David paused again, looking at him and then looking away. He eventually made eye contact. Matteo added brave to the list of things he learned about him. “I was born in the body of a girl.”

Matteo nodded slowly, “Okay. So that means you’re a‒”

“Boy. I’m a boy,” David said simply, “I just have to try a little harder.”

“Sounds like work,” Matteo said, scooting a little closer. David smiled at him, an easy little smile.

“Yeah, you could say that,” David hummed, “You really don’t mind?”

“I mean, I don’t fully understand all the mechanics of it, but if it’s who you are, then who am I to do anything but accept it and appreciate you not being a dick for me not knowing,” Matteo said, again scooting closer. David pulled him into a hug, wrapping him up in his arms all nice and tight and secure.

“I’ll answer any questions you have,” David said. Matteo shut his eyes.

“Tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

They fell silent all over again and Matteo found solace in the fact that the only sounds he heard were David’s breathing and his heart beating.  It was better than any pillow he could’ve ever been given.

He had spent years fearing the prospect of a soulmate and he had spent the last few months worrying that he wouldn’t find him and that he’d go insane from loneliness. From what David had said, it sounded like he hadn’t expected much either.  Instead, he got to spend most of his day with this guy who he would get to spend forever with and it was so fucking easy.

This wasn’t scary. This was safe. He prayed that David felt the same way. He had to assume he did.

Eventually, Matteo felt himself drifting off and he couldn’t really have chosen a better place to do so than in David’s arms.  The last thing he heard before time unfroze and they were given back to reality was David’s voice.

“Happy birthday, Matteo.”

#idk how well i did their whole talk #please let me know if i botched it #davenzi #davenzi au #davenzi fic #matteo florenzi #matteo florenzi fic #david schreibner #david schreibner fic #druck #druck fic #3k word #request #david's pov

[pallasperilous]

Twenty Questions

Summary: Michael is AWOL with Dean, so Sam drives while Cas rides shotgun. They fill silence with a light inquiry into the nature of Enochian pronouns and their relationship – or lack thereof – to human vessels’ gender.  ...it’s more fun than it sounds.

Word Count: 1,221 Rating: Gen (there’s a single swear) Pairings: Sam & Castiel (are good nerdfriends)

WARNINGS: brief references to social prejudice against queer identities. Angel lore nonsense. References to past harm done to Baby’s clutch. 

Complete story in post, or on AO3.

---

They’ve been creeping down the same stretch of interstate for five hours. They long ago run out of podcasts and Dean’s more bearable cassettes and weird lore chit-chat and dumb car games – Sam has learned the hard way that 20 Questions with Cas is actually either 3 Questions or Infinity Questions.

They’re finally in the same county as their turn-off, but they’re still at least three hours out from Lebanon and they’ve officially run out of silence, too. Castiel is pretty good at keeping quiet when he’s in the back, at least over long hauls – Sam would sometimes catch Dean glancing into the rearview just to check that he hadn’t poofed out at some point.

Having Cas ride shotgun is something else. Just having another body there pokes Sam in the brain, demands comment. The other body is usually Dean, and Dean sucks at silence. If it’s not talking, it’s music. If it’s not music, he’ll starts fucking humming or tapping or whistling. Dean is nature, abhorring a vacuum.

Only Dean’s not here. So it turns out that silence is currently a very painful conversation.

“I’ve been wondering about something,” Sam says.

Castiel has his eyes closed, but they snap open immediately. “Oh?”

Sam adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. “So…the other angels. They call you he, right?”

“They normally call me Castiel.”

Sam shoots him A Look, and is rewarded with a microscopic smile. “No, I mean – you all have…consistent pronouns. That don’t change based on your vessel. From what I can tell.”

Cas shakes his head. “Not usually, no. You have to understand, Sam – most angels have never occupied a vessel, nor would they ever expect to. It’s a specialized field.” He shifts down a bit on the bench, folds his arms.

“So you do all have…some kind of…essential gender? In your true forms?”

Castiel hums non-committally. “The pronouns you hear us use in English are an approximation of an Enochian form of address. One that has nothing to do with reproductive or social roles.”

“What’s it describe, then? Rank? Age?”

“Rotational axis.”

Sam can’t help it: he laughs. “What?” The unbidden mental image is of Castiel strapped on one of those vomitous centrifugal wheels they used to velcro kids into at Space Camp.

Cas sighs, although it sounds more embarrassed than aggrieved, as if Sam were asking after the origin of an off-color family in-joke. “When angels traverse the common areas of Heaven, our wings manifest as rotating bands of energy. There are two possible planes – axes – of rotation. The pronouns refer to which axis that angel’s wings occupy.”

“So, what…it’s not he and she, it’s more like… righty and lefty?”

Cas snorts. “I’d never thought of it that way, but the analogy is apt."

“Are there any, um. Ambidextrous angels?” Sam squints and kicks on the turn signal as they crawl up towards the nearest eastbound exit. There’s a lava flow of red brakelights ahead of them.

“A few. ”

“Anybody we know?”

“You know me.”

Sam hesitates, glances over at Castiel. He's got his elbow up on the door, chin braced on the splayed fingers of his far hand. Everything he’s wearing looks like it needs ironing, including his face. “Oh yeah?" Sam manages, lamely.

"Mm," Cas replies, which is frankly about as much as Sam deserves.

"Is that...what's that like?"

A forest green Outback two lanes over is suddenly seized by the need to exit at 126 A and Sam has to stomp on the brakes to avoid getting side-swiped. By the time Sam has brought the car back up to speed, Cas still hasn't answered.

"I'm sorry," Sam says. "Kinda none of my business." His knee is starting to ache from kicking out the clutch. They could’ve switched drivers a few hours back when it was bumper-to-bumper. Sam officially chalks it up to his pride, but really it would be admitting that Dean will be gone long enough that Sam will have time to replace the clutch after Cas fucking incinerates it.

Cas lowers his arm. "I'm not offended, Sam. I was considering my answer."

Sam shrugs; “I know angel stuff is a sensitive subject. Didn't want you to feel interrogated or anything. I'm just, you know. Curious."

"Yes, I've noticed that about you." There's a thin smile in Castiel's voice. "It was...it is...largely unimportant. I would usually adopt the same manner as the angel I was interacting with. It makes it easier to coordinate our movements. Since the majority of angels are of the axial group referred to with masculine English pronouns, I'm usually considered," and here he deploys air-quotes, Jesus Christ, if that isn't a throwback –"one of the boys."

Sam frowns, squints against the reflection off the back window of a church minivan. "I think that'd bother me."

"Why? It's simply practical. It describes the greater part of my behavior, at any rate."

“I dunno, it’s still…reductive, right? I mean, which way would you–” Sam winces a bit in anticipation at how dumb this is going to sound –“rotate, if you were alone?"

Cas, as usual, takes the ridiculous in stride. ”I truly don't have a preference. Each has its tactical strengths and shortcomings. The ability to alternate between the two is an advantage in battle, of course, and it grants me access to a broader array of potentially suitable vessels."

Cas turns his face away, as if he's checking out the blind spot, or maybe his own reflection in the side mirror. "It's part of why I was chosen to retrieve Dean in Hell, and then to interact with him after his resurrection."

They finally slip off the interstate and onto the four-lane state highway, a slim river cutting through an old growth forest of gas station signs and fast food logos. They could be literally anywhere in North America, and Sam feels his shoulders relax. Anywhere In North America is Sam's hometown.

Cas sighs. “You must be hungry by now. You should pull over."

"Nah, I'm okay. I'd rather get back to the Bunker before dark.”

There’s a pause which Cas somehow manages to imbue with maternal concern. "Sam. You do need to eat."

"We have food at home."

"Not enough."

"Cas, seriously. I’m fine.”

“I can tell that you've lost weight."

"Yeah, well. Probably because I don’t have Dean shoving garbage in my face every five hours.”

Sam feels the resulting silence as an actual, physical tension in his chest.

“I’ll stop somewhere when we’re over the state line,” he adds. Cas makes a little noise of consent.

Castiel turns his face forward again, drops his arm into his lap.  "It does make some in the Host uneasy. The dual axis,” he clarifies, as if the ranks of Heaven might possibly have an opinion on the particulars of where Sam gets his next chicken sandwich. “They think it suggests a deceptive or indecisive nature."

They hit their first stoplight, and Sam looks over at him. “You're telling me there’s an angel equivalent of biphobia."

"You are," Castiel says dryly, "a fount of damning analogies today, Sam Winchester."

“Wow. That’s, uh. That’s…fucked up? Not sure why I’m surprised, though. As above, so below, I guess.”

“I’ve come to see the relationship between Heaven and Earth as a lateral one,” Cas answers. Then he smiles.

“But that’s just me.”

#spn fanfic #supernatural #sam winchester #castiel #sam and cas #I guess SPN angel lore is just my canvas for GenderFeels #pallasperilous fic #pallasperilous art #true forms #sastiel #like...FRIEND sastiel #I mean you do you #the author is dead

[fluffyunicornofdanger]

Living a Little Part 4

A/N’s:  I’m sorry this has taken so long. For a long time I didn’t know how to start it and the only reason I even started it was because I didn’t feel like doing school work. So this is the reason I don’t have a story done for Creative Writing. Anyway, I have no clue when part 5 will be out, but I swear it will be out eventually. Feel free to send in requests and I love getting feedback, so don’t be shy. I hope you guys enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

70s! John Deacon x Reader

Summary: Y/n get dragged out of her comfort zone by her roommate, even though she knows Y/n never goes out, due to her studies, to a rock concert. Of all places. But maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all, when she meets, a very interesting, certain bassist. And he just so happens to find her interesting too.

Part 4 of ?

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: None????

It was a perfect day for a picnic. The sun was shining high against the bright blue sky, sparse clouds drifting past it. Y/n smiled as she exited Mickie’s, shielding her eyes from the sun as she rummaged through her purse, looking for her sunglasses. Grabbing them out of her purse, she slid them on her face to keep from being blinded. With her eyes protected from the sun, she scanned the street for John. She didn’t know what car he drove or if they would be walking, but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. When she didn’t see him, she leaned against the cold brick of the building behind her, glancing at her watch.

He wasn’t late. Yet she wasn’t early.

It was that horrible 10 minute period that many considered on time. During that time, it felt like everything had slowed down, taking longer to happen than normal. It felt more like hours instead of minutes, but she wasn’t going to complain. It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be. She just hoped to god that she didn’t cross paths with Charles before John arrived. Y/n wasn’t sure if her heart would be able to handle another encounter.

Y/n drummed her fingers against her pant leg, waiting for time to slowly tick by. “If only I’d left ten minutes later,” she whined at the fact that she got ready too fast.

Waiting for her date to start was agonizing. It wasn’t like she could go on about the weather forever. London witnessed many beautiful days. It wasn’t always rainy and pouring all the time, making days like today scarce and precious. Instead, her mind decided to wander back to her last date. And it wanted nothing to do with the good memories. Her brain thought it was best to focus on the worst detail of that day. The worst detail of, probably, her entire month.

The man standing across the street.

Of course, it would be hard to burn that memory. She had left every memory about that man behind when she had moved to London. But now they were back full force, invading every thought, every second of her day before she could even bat an eye. Knowing him, knowing Charles the way she did, she knew that even if she told him never to call her again, to never come near her again, her words would fall on deaf ears. They always did.

He could never seem to understand the words no, no matter what form they took.

“Y/n. Y/n, hey.”

The woman blinked back into reality, shaking her head to try and stay grounded. In front of her stood John with a concerned look on his face. He had obviously pulled up while she was staring off into space. “Sorry, sorry. Just daydreaming.”

“Hope it wasn’t about me,” he joked, laughing the whole thing off even though it bothered him a little. Taking him back to the distorted image from their previous date.  

Y/n’s cheeks heated up at his comment, causing her to scoff. “We’re not there yet, Mr. Deacon. You’re gonna have to wait for the third date for that.” She straightened herself, pushing off the building behind her. “Lead the way.”

He shook his head, “I’m sure doing a lot of waiting.”

She laughed, her cheeks heating up.

John gesturing for her to follow him to an Orange Morris Marina. Even though Y/n didn’t know the man that well, his car told her enough. It matched every part of his personality that she had come to know over the little time that they had known each other.

“This is your car?”

“Yep. Has been since I bought it.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching as she served the car. He opened her door, allowing her to slide in before shutting it and rounding the front to get in. Once in, he started it up and pulled onto the street.

“When was the last time you went on a picnic?” he asked, cursing himself for forgetting about London’s traffic as they came to a stop behind a line of car. And to think that they picked a time with little traffic.

Y/n thought for a second, chewing on her cheek. She couldn’t even remember the last picnic she went on, it had been that long. Or it was one of those picnics that was full of tension as her parents weren’t even talking to each other. “Well… It’s been a long time. Um, I would say about seven years.”

“Wow. Why so long?” he looked over at her, smiling as he watched her scrunch her nose up like she had an itch. John let out a sigh of relief, turning back to the road as the car in front of them moved forward.

She let out a deep breath, unsure whether the story was worth getting into or not. It would come out eventually if more dates came from it, but it wasn’t something she liked talking about either way. “My family used to go on picnic’s every Sunday after church when the weather permitted. It was kinda tradition. Once a month my grandparents and aunts and uncles would go with us as well. But that all stopped when my parents divorced,” she shrugged. “I haven’t gone to one since, but it’s not like I’m avoiding picnics or anything,” she assured him. “It’s just hard to find time.”

John shook his head. He could see the hurt in her eyes from the memories of her parents. It wasn’t fair. The pain that she was probably going through. Most parents often put their feelings before their children, hurting them in the crossfire. It just wasn’t fair. “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

She let out a small laugh, “It’s alright, really. Everyone has their own sob story. Mine just so happens to be about my parents. And I’m not really upset about it anymore.”

He nodded, turning into one of London’s many suburbs.

“What about you? When was the last time you went on a picnic?”

“Oh god,” John ran a hand through his hair, stopping at a stop light. “Honestly, I haven’t since primary school.”

He pressed the gas once the light turned green and suddenly the car was filled with the sound of ducks.  John sighed, having dealt with the noise all week, unable to fix it. Roger had offered to take care of it for him, but he knew better than to take him up on that offer. He was the one behind the sound, he had to be. But just as he was about to tell Y/n that it was nothing to worry about, seeing the shock in her eyes, the engine started to grumble. That, most definitely, was not a sound a car should be making.

“Great,” he mumbled, pulling off the road, parking along a curb near an empty lot.

Y/n gave him a look as smoke started to come from under the hood. “As much as I’m concerned about the duck sound, I don’t think you’re car should be doing that.” She pointed to the hood.

“No, it shouldn’t.” John stepped out of the car, Y/n following right behind him. Neither knew much about cars, but they both knew that smoke was never a good sign.

“Should we call a truck?” Y/n suggested.

He scoffed. “Oh, no. The only one that I want to call right now it the arse that decided to work on my car!” He lifted the hood, smoke hitting him in the face.

Y/n sighed, one reason she was glad she didn’t have a car. If she did, her cousins would never let it out of their garage. She knew better than to ever want to take them up on that offer as her uncle had made it clear to them that if any of them touch his car, he would wield the hood shut. That had to be a sign that she didn’t want them working on any vehicle she ever got. “Roger?”

“Roger.”

She nodded, spinning around carelessly. Frustration was visible on John’s features, he clearly hadn’t thought his car would be giving them trouble. It was merely a bump in the road. It wasn’t like they had gotten into an accident or something like that, which would completely ruin the date.

“Now what are we gonna do?” he asked out of frustration, running his fingers through his hair.

“Who said we need a park to have a picnic?”

John laughed, “I think it’s kinda required.”

“But not totally required,” she pointed out. “There are exceptions.”

He smiled, so glad that they had decided to go on a second date.

As much as Roger teased him about it, John couldn’t help but fall in love with the woman. They barely knew each other and he was well aware of how stupid it sounded, but it was true. He had never been around someone that made everything feel like one fluid movement. He knew from the start that she wasn’t playing games or in it for the money and fame. Y/n wasn’t like the girls that clung to Roger at the end of every show, she was real. And he loved that.  

“You’re right, you’re right.” He shut the hood, going to the back seat to grab the basket that he had stocked full of food that morning.

“Food!” she exclaimed when he brought the basket into sight. “This better be good food, I was hungry an hour ago!”

John laughed, handing her the basket. “I swear it is. I wouldn’t want to ruin this because of food.”

She nodded, smiling as she took the basket. Opening it, she pulled out two wrapped sandwiches and handed one to John. “You swear it's good.”

“I swear on Roger’s life.”

Her smile fell, “He ruined your car, I think you kinda want to take his life.”

“Alright-” he raised his hands in defense. “- I swear on Brian’s life. He hasn’t done anything to me.”

“I’ll take that.”

The pair waited for a while, eating their lunch and talking further. They happened to have found themselves stuck in the quietest part of town. No cars passed by and the streets were silent. Everyone was probably out enjoying the nice weather. Even though John wished that his car hadn’t broken down, he was glad that it did. He wasn’t sure if the date would be much fun at the park.

“Where have you gone on tour so far?” Y/n asked from where she sat on the hood.

Placing the picnic basket back in the car, he leaned against the car door. “So far I have been to America, Germany, Finland, Poland, Japan, and probably some other places that I can’t remember.”

She nodded, leaning against the windshield. How she wished that she could travel to those places. Y/n had never had the chance or the money to travel outside of the country. She had never gone to Wales or Scotland like all her friends or family had. She had only ever stayed in the London area, never venturing far outside of it. Maybe one day, when she finished school, when her career was set up, she would have the time and the money to travel.

“Where have you traveled, Y/n?” John asked, shutting the car door, going to sit next to her.

“No where,” she sighed.

“Oh.”

“But I have always wanted to go to Brazil.”

He hummed in response. She still had plenty of time to travel. It wasn’t the end of the world that she hadn’t seen what the world had to offer. John could attest to that. The thought of traveling halfway across the country had never even crossed his mind until he had joined Queen.

The comfortable silence that had come over them was rudely interrupted when a car slowed down, coming to a stop right next to them.

John and Y/n turned to see the window slowly roll down. Y/n sucked in a breath, her eyes landing on who was rolling it down. It seemed that all the odds were against her.

“Do you folks need help?” a man asked.

Y/n was just about to say no when John hopped off the hood.

“Yes, that would be lovely.”

The man smiled, extending his hand out the window, “Charles Wright, but you can call me Charlie.” He met Y/n’s eyes as he said it, causing her to roll her eyes. The memory of their last conversation filling her mind. It seemed that she had the best luck in the world. It wasn’t the second time, nor the third that Charles had slithered into her life in a two week period but the fourth.

John grasped his hand, giving it a firm shake. “John Deacon.”

Charles smiled, “Don’t tell me the two of you are on a date.”

John nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Well, going to one until the engine started smoking.”

Charles scrunched up his nose, signaling his distaste for such a thing. He shook his head, looking at the car. “That sucks. Is there anywhere I can take you two?” he asked, looking between the two.

“Um…” John looked back at Y/n who just shrugged. As much as she didn’t want anything to do with the man, it would probably be a while until another car pulled up. “Well, I guess we could go back to my place.”

The man nodded, “Hop in then.”

“Thank you, you’re a real lifesaver,” John stated, locking up his car.

Y/n slide off the hood, slowly walking over to the car. Charles smiled at her as she grasped the door handle. She would give anything in the world to have someone else offer to pick them up. She wasn’t sure how she would be able to stomach riding in the same vehicle with the man. Not when there wasn’t room to get away.

She sucked in her fears, opening the door and sliding into the back seat.

It wouldn’t be that bad. They would only share the same space for a maybe 15 minutes. It wasn’t like she had to spend the rest of the day with the man. Once at John’s place, it would probably, hopefully, be the last time that she would ever see him. He would go back to be someone she used to know, a long lost memory that faded with time.

John slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it,” Charles shrugged, putting the car in drive. Looking in the rearview mirror, Charles watched Y/n who was looking out the window, trying to distract herself. “I hope the backs not too messy, Y/n. I’ve been so busy with work that I haven’t had the time to clean it.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” she faked a smile, wishing that he would drive faster.

John looked between the pair, at Y/n who was avoiding eye contact by looking out the window and at Charles who was smiling as a new song came on the radio. Something wasn’t adding up. He didn’t remember Y/n ever introducing herself to their driver. She had stayed silent since he arrived. He tried to shrug it off, turning his attention to directing Charles in the direction of his flat.

But even as they neared closer, it didn’t fade from his mind. Something was off. Y/n looked pale, the color fading from her skin. Something was wrong and he had a feeling that she knew the man sitting next to him. But that didn’t make any sense. Wouldn’t she have at least said something? Wouldn’t Charles have said something? Would they both just sit in silence, acting as if they had never met before? John didn’t want to read too much into things. It wouldn’t get him anywhere, but he couldn’t help it. It was just odd. It was a bright red flag that he wanted to ignore, but didn’t know how.

Charles pulled up outside John’s building, putting the car in park. He turned to the man beside him. “There you go mate. I hope you get your car fixed.”

John nodded, opening the door. “I hope so too. I would hate to have to buy a new one.”

Y/n swiftly got out of the car, shutting her door and walking over to the sidewalk as they conversed, wrapping her arms around her middle. Hundreds of emotions were running through her veins. She wasn’t quite sure what she felt, but it was anything but happy.

“Have a nice night,” John waved to Charles, shutting the door.

Once the car pulled out onto the street, Y/n released a breath she forgot she was holding. He was finally gone.

John turned to her, watching her posture change, her shoulders were no longer tense and her color was returning. “Do you know him?” he pointed to the car that was nearly out of sight.”

“No,” she shook her head, playing with her fingers. She thanked god that John didn’t know her as well as Alice, otherwise it would be easy to tell that she was lying.

“Are you sure?” he asked, concerned by her behavior.

She laughed, “I swear on my sister’s life that I don’t know him.”

He raised a brow.

“I have a sister, I swear,” she confirmed.

“Alright,” he accepted it, leading the way to his building. It still didn’t rub him right, but it seemed that pushing further wouldn’t get him anywhere. And it wasn’t like he would ever see the man again. London was a huge city, he rarely saw the same person twice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Let me know if you guys want to be added to one of the taglists and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.)

Permanent: @rexorangecouny @jennyggggrrr @zestygingergirl

Living a Little: @yellowandscarlet @mackers125 @sunflower-borhap-boys @deakysgirl @danamaleksworld @kenzie-belle @rogertaylorssunglasses @in-theyearof39 @dreamer821 @borhapqueen92 @imgonnabeyourslave @reddiefreddieee @httpsavocados

#John Deacon #John Deaky #John deacon imagine #john deacon fanfiction #john deacon imagines #john deacon x reader #Brian May #brian may imagine #brian may imagines #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor imagines #freddie mercury #freddie mercury imagine #freddie mercury imagines #Queen #queen band #queen imagine #queen imagines #queen band imagines #queen band imagine #queen fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #writing #requests #requests are open

[knittedkikwi]

Ironsworn update

Ok, this one’s kinda long. I keep trying to have an adventure where Mira doesn’t need to fight, but I just roll SO BAD! I got 2 or 3 complication rolls this time around. I’m honestly surprised she was able to finish the vow. But ended with an opportunity, so now she has an entourage for the next couple of days! Story is below the cut. Summary down below.

Summary: Mira dissects a vine. Realizes she’s seen this magic before. Loses her way then loses her owl. Has weird dreams that tell the past (I wasn’t sure how to fulfill the price of an alliance is revealed when she’s by herself in the woods, so prophetic dreams it is). Runs into the guy who took her owl and beat the shit out of him. Killed the vines, turned the bad guy over to the town, got an escort to her next stop.

Where were those vines coming from?! Mira kept seeing them randomly sprouting from the forest floor, but she couldn’t find a source. She’d certainly never seen them while she was living here. What could they be?

Mira found a decently large vine and kneeled down to take a closer look. The vine itself was maybe 3 inches thick with a tough, mud colored outer shell. While the skin of the vine might have been smooth, here were dark bristles covering it. Mira pulled out the axe she’d gotten from the bandit and used it to barely sweep across the bristles. She could see some sort of spore fly off into the air. Anywhere on the axe it touched immediately started to rust. Mira then cut off a chunk of vines. Using the head of the axe, she maneuvered it into a position that let her see the inside of the vine. She’s not sure what she was looking for, but what she found was a perfectly normal bit of ivy. The shell turned out to be half an inch thick. The rest seemed to be more of those bristles growing out of what seemed to be your everyday, run of the mill ivy.

“I guess that explains why it climbs buildings, but I’ve never seen ivy do this.” Mira looked at Gabriel, face scrunched up in a look of confusion. For his part, Gabriel’s head twisted 90 degrees, like an exaggerated version of a dog confused by a sound. “It’s like something twisted them. Corrupted them.”

Mira looked at the bandit axe and realized the rust was spreading. She quickly tried wiping the axe down with leaves and was pleased to see that the rusting stopped. The axe still looked fairly solid. A bit of vinegar would probably get it back to good condition.

Mira glanced back to the vine in time to see the section growing out of the ground send out tendrils to close the gap between it and the rest of the vine. She watched with fascination as the tendrils formed that smooth shell. No bristles, but Mira didn’t doubt that those would appear soon. Was the other piece doing that? She looked to the side, afraid that she just sprouted another vine. Fortunately, she didn’t see any tendrils. Instead, she watched as the corrupted parts of it started to rapidly decay. In a matter of minutes, the ivy was the only thing remaining.

“It went back to normal,” she said, “like the gaunts…..THAT FUCKING MYSTIC!!!!”

Gabriel fluttered to a higher branch in surprise.

“It’s exactly like the gaunts! Something from nature being twisted and used against Ironlanders. Maybe the gaunts weren’t done yet and that’s why they went back to normal? Either way, there’s got to be something still powering this, or else the vines wouldn’t still be here. If we keep following them, we’re bound to find it.”

“Screech!” Gabriel landed back on Mira’s shoulder and looked further into the forest, in the direction of more vines. Mira started walking.

She followed the vines for hours. They slowly started to thin out, until eventually only one vine continued into the forest. However, her luck ended with the vine. She found the origin point, but saw nothing different from any of the other vines.

“Gabriel, let’s split up. There has to be something. A main plant? Or maybe a cave leading down to the roots? You check from the air and I’ll search down here. Meet up in 10 minutes?”

The owl gave a small hiss of agreement and soared off to the right. Mira started walking increasing semicircles around the vine. It had to be connected to something. If she could kill that, she could hopefully make all the vines wither away. Ten minutes of searching revealed nothing, though. She walked back to where she was supposed to meet Gabriel and sat down to wait. And wait. And wait.

Mira was getting nervous. The sun was starting to set and she wasn’t used to being alone at night. Admittedly, Gabriel wasn’t great at tracking time, considering he was an owl, but he didn’t usually stay away for this long. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see in the dark. It would be far easier for him to find her than the other way around. Maybe a fire would help him find her?

She started clearing a space and finding stones to ring in a fire. Fortunately, the almost ever-present rain of the Deep Wilds seemed to have taken a few nights. She managed to somehow find some sticks that were relatively dry and got a small, albeit smoky, fire going. Surely Gabriel would find her during the night. Mira prayed that Ferrous would guide him back to her, before falling into a fitful sleep.

*********

Her dreams were odd that night. She dreamt that she was back in Black Hall, but there were no vines. The village bustled with people, seeming very much like Grimtree. Mira walked to the edge of town closest to the forest. It felt like something was pulling her into the trees. She wandered deep into the woods, until she heard voices.

“The cave’s over here.” said a voice. It sounded like a young man, vaguely familiar.

“Excellent. This will work nicely.” This man sounded older. Mira found herself reaching for her axe, before realizing that it wasn’t there. She continued forward until she found a small passage in a pile of large boulders, leading down into an underground cavern.

“You promise this will work?” There! She saw two silhouettes in front of her, outlined by the light of a torch. One rough 6 feet tall, the other about 6 inches shorter with wild looking hair.

The shorter man was running his hand along the wall as they walked. They reached an area where the tunnel widened slightly. Mira watched the shorter man stop with his hand on a crack in the wall. She could see some small mushrooms growing from it. The taller of the pair stopped and turned around, letting Mira finally see the pair in the light. She recognized both of them.

“Yes, Hirsham, this will work.” The shorter man, covered in familiar tattoos, pulled the mushrooms free, causing a small amount of dirt to fall to the floor. He pulled something from a pouch and pressed it into the crack. “Place your hand on mine.”

Hirsham slowly reached out with his right hand. He seemed nervous about whatever this mystic was doing, but Mira could also see a hungry gleam in his eyes. “This will ruin those bastards’ farms?”

“Yes, it will ruin their farms. You’ll get to be the hero. The only one able to leave. Now quiet, I need to focus.” The mystic started to mutter under his breath. Ever so slowly, ivy started to creep around their hands and into the crack to the earth beyond.

********

Mira’s eyes snapped open. The world was gray around her, caught in that predawn moment after the night creatures settled down to sleep but before the rest of the world awoke. The small fire from the night was completely cold, burned out hours ago. She looked around, expecting to see Gabriel perched on her pack or in a nearby tree. But she was alone.

Mira stood, trying to get a better look, hoping to find some sign of her friend. She grabbed her bag, kicked some dirt on the fire for good measure, and started walking. She hoped he’d settle down and wait for her now that it was almost day. She walked maybe five minutes before coming across a small, haphazard pile of boulders. Her dream came back to her in a rush. She’d seen the boulders yesterday, but hadn’t noticed a passage. This time she knew what she was looking for. She cleared the leaves from the center of the formation, revealing a slope leading down into the earth.

“That motherfucker! He helped the mystic ruin his own town!” Mira was angry. How could he?! Those people were just trying to survive and he sold them out to that weird old man.

“Technically, I guess I did. But they had it coming.” Mira whirled around to see Hirsham walk around a tree. He had a burlap sack in his left hand, which was making a familiar hissing sound. “They really should have been nicer to those less fortunate than them.”

Mira’s eyes narrowed at the site of the bag. “They were mean to you? So you decided to burn their livelihoods. I don’t understand.”

“They weren’t just mean, they treated me like dirt!” Hirsham started circling around Mira, eyes full of rage. “All my life, I was the kid no one wanted. Forced to steal because no one would help me. Then punished because I did what I had to in order to survive. Then Kataka came into town. Said he could tear them down and lift me up at the same time. I just needed to help him find somewhere to plant something.”

“My dream WAS true.” Mira whispered to herself, eyes darting in confusion. She managed to refocus on Hirsham after a moment. “I don’t care how they treated you, this was too far. Betraying your town so you could pretend to be important. How many people actually managed to get out before you became the only person able to escape the vines?”

Hirsham smirked, “Maybe a third. The rest are huddling in their houses, completely dependent on me for food, firewood, everything. They take what I give them, and they’re happy about it! They think I’m helping them out of the kindness of my heart. You don’t understand the power I have right now! And you’re threatening to take that away.” Hirsham tossed the sack to the side with a thud that made Mira’s stomach turn. He reached behind his back and pulled out two hatchets. “I really can’t let you finish what you’re trying to do.”

Mira saw red and pulled out her own axe. She didn’t even respond before rushing at him. He was too fast for her though. He ducked out of the way, tripping her as she ran. Mira went sprawling and almost slid face first into a vine she hadn’t noticed poking out of the ground. She grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it towards Hirsham as she tried to stand. He brought his hand up in time to protect his eyes, but it at least gave her time to stand up again.

Hirsham lunged at her with his axes dancing in a pattern that would have been mesmerizing if he wasn’t trying to kill her. Mira pulled her shield off her back and moved in to meet him. They clashed back and forth for a few moments until Mira was able to knock away one of his hatchets. She took advantage of the opening and swung hard with her axe. He leapt towards his axe with incredible speed. For a moment, she thought Hirsham had managed to dodge her completely, until she realized he was holding his side. She saw a small trickle of blood leak through his tunic. Her satisfaction lasted only a moment as she realized an axe was flying at her face. She dove to the side and raised her shield over her. Hirsham was stalking towards her slowly though, like a wolf who’s prey was caught in a trap.

Mira took a moment to breathe, before realizing her wrist was starting to burn. She looked down and realized her axe arm had landed on a vine that she swore was not there earlier. Shoving down the panic welling in her, Mira quickly grabbed some dirt and rubbed at her arm where it was starting to blister and turn black. Unfortunately, Hirsham was running towards her again. Mira pushed herself into a squat and then lunged for his legs. He tried to jump over her, but she twisted at the last second and brought her shield up into his stomach. He landed on his back, near one of the vines. Mira watched as he stretched out a hand towards it and the vine started to stretch and move in his direction. His hand moved slowly in her direction, but Mira brought her axe down on his wrist before the vine could follow. Hirsham screamed.

“You’re able to control them?” Mira asked. “How?”

Hirsham shuffled backwards, trying to get away from Mira. He threw his remaining hatchet at her, which she easily knocked out of the way with her shield. She stalked up to him and brought the flat of her axe down on his ribs with a satisfying snap. Several, actually.

“How?!” She yelled. He continued trying to crawl backwards, slowly. Mira swung again, this time breaking his other arm.

Hirsham curled in on himself with a soft sob. “It’s part of the ritual! Kataka said since I participated I would be able to control them! It’s how I can leave the city.” He tried to cradle his bleeding arm to his chest, only to wince as it came in contact with his broken ribs.

“Ugh, you’re useless.” Mira said, as she rummaged around in her bag. After a moment, she managed to pull out the rope she had bought as part of her tent. She supposed now it technically was the tent, considering it was the only part left. For now, though, it would work nicely to keep Hirsham from running away. She took a moment to tie up is legs and bind his remaining hand to his ankles, eliciting several gasps of pain in the process.

When she was satisfied he wouldn’t be able to escape, she ran to the bag and opened it. Gabriel peered out at her blearily. He gave a small hiss of annoyance as she pulled him out checked him over for injuries. He seemed fairly sound, excepting a small bump on his head that she hoped would go away soon.

Mira planted a kiss on top of his head and said, “I’m so glad you’re ok! Would you be willing to watch him while I got get whatever…Kataka planted down there?”

“Screech!”

“Yes, you can sit on him if you want. Just try not to shred him too much. I think the villagers might want to speak with him.” Mira walked over to Hirsham. His eyes grew wide at the sight of talons as she plopped the owl on his head.

Mira walked back to the entrance to the cave, taking a moment to light a torch. She followed the path, which was exactly the same as from her dream. She walked quickly, until she reached the small room where she’d watched Kataka plant the seed. It had grown to roughly the size of her head now, with dozens of small vines sprouting from it and disappearing into the earth.

Mira arranged a couple of larger rocks together to make a holder for her torch. She then pulled out the bandit axe and started to work severing all of the vines growing from the seed. It took a few minutes work, and resulted in a solid layer of rust on the axe head, but she was finally able to detach the seed from the wall. Small shoots tried to grow from the seed towards the rest of the vines. Mira retrieved her torch from its makeshift sconce and used it to set fire to the seed. It lit quickly and burned with no smoke, which surprised Mira more than anything. After a minute, all that remained was ashes and a small, black seed, no bigger than the head of a nail. She flipped the axe around and poked the seed with the handle. Mira was relieved to see that nothing happened to the handle. No rot started, no new vines sprouted. Mira let out a small sigh and then gently picked up the seed and placed it in a small pouch before putting it in her bag.

She then headed back out to gather Gabriel and her prisoner. Gabriel had refrained from using his talons to tear up Hirsham’s scalp, but he hadn’t refrained from holding on tightly. She could see small streaks of red running down from where is toes connected with Hirsham’s head.

Suppressing a small smile, Mira undid the ropes binding Hirsham and gently pulled him to his feet. He let out a soft sob, but followed her without complaint. They walked back to town, Gabriel refusing to move from Hirsham’s head the entire way. Mira was gratified to see the vines dying, the outer shells falling away in flakes to leave only plain ivy. By the time they made it back to town, the sun was heading towards setting and most of the vine wall had collapsed. The other plant life that was being corrupted by it either dying or showing signs of returning to normal.

Mira marched Hirsham into the town square, looking around for any of the thugs she’d met the other day. “People of Black Hall!” she called, “I have stopped the vines that were destroying your town. One of your own had partnered with a rogue mystic to bring this blight upon you.”

Hirsham’s men had appeared from the shadows as soon as Mira started speaking. Others followed as she continued. “I killed that mystic for trying to do something similar to my town. But I leave the judgement of Hirsham to you. The man is a coward who preferred to hurt you and control you than talk with you.” Mira scanned the faces of the villagers. She saw shock, anger, and confusion throughout the crowd. The men who had stood with him before refused to look at her. “Now, he said you slighted him first. I suggest you all sit down and try to figure how what led to this in the first place. Maybe you can avoid this from happening in the future. For now, will you hold my oath fulfilled?”

A man shuffled forward, wizened with age and lean from hunger. His voice was surprisingly strong when he spoke, though. “Yes, we hold your oath fulfilled. Thank you, for freeing us from the vines. And our own foolishness, it seems. How may we repay you? We have no money or food, but we may be able to offer you something else.”

Mira gave him a smile. “I’m making my way to Longmark and then on to Baku. But you do not owe me anything. I’m sure that Hirsham will uphold his part of our deal, after all.”

The man nodded. “Perhaps, then, we could escort you part of the way. Now that the vines are dying, we’re free to leave. We’ll need to get supplies if we’re to restart our lives here. We can travel with you to Stonehom. It’s a couple days down the river road, which will give us some time to talk.”

The man had a strange look in his eye as he made this offer. Mira sensed that he might know more about Longmark or Baku than the average villager. “Thank you, sir. I would be glad of the company.” And she wanted to know what that look was about.

#ironsworn #rpg #one day she'll roll well #i hope

[turtle-steverogers]

Fugitives- Chap 6

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Warnings: D E A T H (someone is shot and killed, yeet), drug mention

Ship: Eventual Ralbert

I’m so so so sorry

Albert was awoken a few hours later to the sounds of people arguing on the other side of the shower curtain.  He kept his eyes shut as he strained his ears, trying to catch what the voices were saying.

“You let someone walk away?” Whispered a voice that Albert recognized as Jack’s.

“He promised he wouldn’t run his mouth,” Came Race’s reply.

“Of course he promised, Antonio,” Came another, exasperated voice, “Anyone would promise that if you shot a gun at their wall and threatened to kill them.”

“Davey’s right,” Jack said, “I can’t believe you, Race.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” Race exclaimed defensively.

“Kill him, Racetrack,” Jack said, his voice was gaining volume, “You were supposed to kill him.”

“Jack Kelly, you know that I can’t fucking-”

“Yes, I’ve fucking heard it.  I’ve heard a million times that you won’t fucking kill anyone else,” Jack was speaking loudly now, “I don’t know what happened to you in Prospect.  I don’t know what part you played in Rockefeller, but you’re going to have to get the fuck over it one day, because in this fucking life, you’re gonna have to kill a few people and-”

“Shut up, Jack!” Race shouted, “Shut the fuck up.  I know that I’m gonna have to kill a few people.  Hell, you’ve made me kill a few people, but don’t fucking talk to me about Rockefeller.  Don’t ever bring that up, asshole, there’s a fucking reason I don’t talk about it.” Race’s breath hitched after the last sentence.

“Both of you quiet down, you’re going to wake people up,” The other man, Davey, scolded, “Jack, leave his past out of this.  Race, take a deep breath.  We’re going to have to think about how to deal with Albert’s roommate, but for now, I think that it would be best if we all just got some rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Jack mumbled.

“Thank you,” Davey said, “Race?”

Albert heard Race take a measured breath, “Okay,” he answered, voice strained.

“Good, get some sleep, Race,” Davey instructed, “Jack, c’mon.”

Albert cracked an eye open, watching as two silhouettes walked to the other side of the theatre.  He saw Race’s shadow pacing back and forth behind the curtain a few times, before he sat down on his cot.  It looked like he was holding his head in his hands.  

Albert felt worry claw at his gut.  What were they planning to do to Elmer?  He had half a thought to send a warning text to him, but didn’t want to find out the repercussions if Jack found out he’d contacted him.  Maybe they weren’t going to kill him, maybe they were just going to recruit Elmer like they’d done with him.  Logically, Albert knew that wasn’t the case.  

Albert let out a frustrated sigh and reached under his pillow to grab his phone.  It was nearly 6:00 am, so Elmer would be waking up within the hour to go to his morning shift at the coffee shop he worked at.  

Albert clicked into his and Elmer’s texts and bit his lip, trying to decide how to word his message.

To Elmer: Bro, do me a fat favor and stay at your girl’s place for a few days.  Don’t ask questions.  I’m handling it.  Just don’t go back to our place and never go anywhere alone.

He hovered his thumb over the send button for a few moments, then delivered it.  Elmer was no doubt going to ask questions anyway, but it was worth a shot.  He deleted their conversation and slid his phone back under his pillow.  Rolling over, he noticed that Race was no longer sitting on his cot.  In fact, it didn’t look like he was on his side of the wing at all.  Albert frowned and lifted his head, glancing around the parts of the theatre that he could see, but there was no sign of Race anywhere.  He got up, curiosity getting the better of him.  Carefully, he drew back the curtain separating his and Race’s side, eyes sweeping the dark area.  At first he didn’t see anything, then he noticed Race sitting on the ground in front of his cot.  

“You okay?” He whispered, causing Race to jump violently and turn around.

His face was lined with tear tracks, which he hastily wiped away with his shirt sleeve, “What the fuck? How long’ve you been awake?”

Albert shrugged, “Not too long.”

Race stood, then sat down on his cot, pulling his knees up to his chest.  He looked tired, “Did you hear anything?”

Albert considered telling him what he had witnessed of his conversation with Jack and Davey, but thought against it, “Nothing besides you moving around.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah..”

“Sorry for waking you.”

Albert waved a hand nonchalantly, “You didn’t, I’m a light sleeper.”

Race sniffed and lowered his chin to rest on his knees, “What do you want?”

Albert glanced down, suddenly feeling guilty for invading what was obviously a very personal moment for Race, “Uh, nothing.  Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Race scowled, “Well, I’m fine.  Why do you care anyway?  I’ve been pretty terrible to you.”

“I was just curious, man-” They both startled when Albert’s phone began buzzing.

Race raised his eyebrows, “You better go get that before Jack or Davey hears.  They’re really strict about phones and who we’re all contacting.”

Albert huffed and let the curtain fall back into place, once again separating himself from Race.  He took his phone from under his pillow to see that Elmer was calling him.  He quickly declined the call and clicked into his texts.

To Elmer: No calling.  Just text.

From Elmer: Where the fuck are you man???? What the fuck happened yesterday??? Are you alive?????

To Elmer: Of course I’m alive, numbnuts.  I can’t tell you where I am and I can’t tell you what was happening yesterday, but you’re kinda in danger so…

From Elmer: BUdDY you can’t say all this shit without an explanation.  I’m freaking the fuck out

To Elmer: Believe me, I am too.  Listen, please just trust me.  Where are you right now? From Elmer: Sarah’s

Albert slumped onto his cot, relief flooding his system.  Elmer was safe at his girlfriend’s place, far from their apartment.

To Elmer: Thank fuck, okay.  Maybe don’t go to work tomorrow.  Or move to China and change your name.  Idc, just please look out for yourself.  Also delete this convo

From Elmer: Albert what the fuck

To Elmer: I’m sorry.  I gotta go.  Remember to delete this.  I’ll talk to you when I can

From Elmer: Jfc ok bye

Albert erased his messages once more and laid back against his pillows.  He scrolled through Instagram mindlessly, trying in vain to get tired again.  It was nearing 7:00 am, so he assumed he’d have to be up soon anyway.  Eventually, he dozed off, phone still in hand.

XXX

“The fuck?” Albert yelped as his pillow was yanked out from under his head.

“Rise and shine, bitchatcho.”

Albert looked up to see Race hovering over him, pillow in hand.

“What time s’it?” He asked, voice still thick with sleep.

“Like, 8:00 am,” Race thwacked Albert violently with the pillow, ”We gotta long day ahead of us, so get the fuck up.”

Albert glared at him for a long moment before reluctantly sitting up, “Fine, give me like, ten minutes to change and take a piss.”

“Awesome, meet me downstairs by the storage room when you’re.”

Albert gave him a sarcastic thumbs up and watched as Race left the stage.  He pulled his jeans out from under his cot and changed into them, then went to the dressing rooms to use the bathroom.  On his way downstairs, he stopped by his bin and took out a sweatshirt, yanking it over his head as he bounded down the stairs.  

As promised, Race was waiting outside the storage room, eating a banana.  There were two other men with him, one sporting a backwards hat over his curly brown hair and the other leaning heavily on a crutch.  

“Heya, Albert,” Race greeted, “Meet Finch and Crutchie.”

The one with a crutchie leaned forward, offering a hand, “As you can probably gather, outta the two of us, I’m Crutchie.  I’m Empire’s medic, so if you’re aboutta die or some shit, I’ll patch you up.”

“Uh, sounds good,” Albert said, shaking Crutchie’s hand.  He turned to the guy in the backwards hat, “And what about you?”

“Finch,” The guy grunted.

Albert cocked his head and looked at Race, who flicked the guy in the back of the head, “Sorry about him, he’s bitter.  That’s Finch.  He’s our botanist.”

“Botanist?”

“I run our drug inventory,” Finch said, toying with a cigarette and looking entirely uninterested.

“Cool, uh, nice to meet you..” Finch scanned his eyes over Albert, who crossed his arms self-consciously.

“Likewise.”

“Well, this is cozy,” Crutchie said brightly, “Anyway, I leave you all to your work.  Just thought I’d introduce myself.  Toodles!” He waved and hobbled away.

“You gotta key, Finchy?” Race asked.

“Don’t call me that,” Finch said, fishing a key out of his jacket pocket and unlocking the storage room door.

“Oh yeah,” Race said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out another banana, “Here, before I forget it’s in there and sit on it.”  he handed the banana to Albert, who hesitantly took it.

“I didn’t poison it or some shit,” Race laughed, “Just thought you’d be hungry.”

Albert wordlessly peeled the banana and took a bite, realizing belatedly how hungry he was.  

“Race,” Finch called from inside the storage room, “What do you need?”

“Uh, get me like, two grams of pot? And...I think that’s it.  It’s a small trade.”

“Kay,” Finch emerged a moment later holding a white paper bag.  He handed it to Race who crumpled it and put it into his jacket pocket.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Higgins,” Finch held out a hand, “Give me the bag back.”

Race rolled his eyes and shoved the bag into Finch’s outstretched palm.  Finch held his glare as he neatly folded the bag over a few times, then handed it back to Race, who carefully placed it back into his pocket.

“Happy?” Race jeered.

“Extremely,” Finch answered with a fake smile, “We done here?  I would like to get coffee now.”

“Yes, we’re done, go get your bean juice.”

Finch sneered and walked away, disappearing up the stairs.

“He’s really fucking meticulous about his drugs,” Race said, zipping up his jacket.

“Meticulous,” Albert repeated, “Didn’t peg you for a fifty-cent-word kinda guy.”

“Shut up, I went to high school.  I glanced at all the SAT words.”

“Oh, did you?  So what does brevity mean?”

“Uhhhhhhh..” Race screwed up his face in thought, “I said I glanced, dude.  That doesn’t mean I retained any actual knowledge.”

“Brevity’s easy.  It’s the quality of being brief or terse.”

“Albert, have I told you you’re annoying yet?”

“Many times.”

“Okay, you’re annoying.  Now c’mon, The Bronx is waiting.”

XXX

The bleak winter air bit Albert’s face as he and Race left The Bowery.  As they walked through the street toward the nearest subway station, Albert couldn’t help but notice the strange feeling that nagged at the back of his neck.  The streets felt almost different, like they were hiding some enormous monster underneath them.  The ever-existing presence of Empire and Prospect loomed ominously over Race and Albert, blind to the eyes of other pedestrians.  He felt incredibly vulnerable, constantly paying mind to who was paying attention to them.  Anyone at any time could be a threat- there was no telling who knew what.

They caught the yellow line that would take them to The Bronx, where they were scheduled to trade with some guy in Fordham at 9:30.  It was currently 8:15 and the ride was supposed to take about forty-five minutes, leaving Albert wishing he had his headphones so he could disengage completely.

“You nervous at all?” Race’s question surprised Albert, and he turned to him

“Kinda, I guess?  How exactly does a trade work?”

“First off, for the love of God, lower your voice,” Race said, leaning in so that they could talk in quieter voices, “And it’s pretty simple.  You missed phase one, which is deciding a meet place and trade time.  We do that using the graffiti, which I’ve already told you about.  One of these days, I’ll show you the symbols we use and what they mean, but that’s not important right now.  So now, we just have to be at the coordinated location and make sure he actually has the cash he promised.  If he does, we trade, plain and easy.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

Race glanced to the side briefly, “Then, we….” he worried his lip between his teeth.

“...Kill him?” Albert tried,

Race looked down at his lap, reaching up a hand to tug at the hair on the back of his head, “I mean, no.  Killing’s not entirely necessary.  That’s like, last resort.  Like if he pulls knife on us.  Yeah, no, we’d just, like, beat him up.” He was rambling and Albert furrowed his brow.

“You alright?  Why are you getting weird?”

“I’m not,” Race said, defensively scooting backwards a bit.

“You totally are,” Albert noted that Race had shrunken in on himself, “Is this something to do with last night?  With Rockefeller or whatever Jack was talking about?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Albert regretted them.  

He silently cursed his lack of a filter as Race whipped his head up, “What? How did you-” he scooted backwards further as his expression turned furious, “So you were listening.  You lied to me, DaSilva.  This puts you on thin fucking ice.”

Albert pursed his lips, annoyed with himself.

“If you were listening so carefully,” Race seethed, “Then you should have known not to fucking bring that up.”

“M’sorry,” Albert mumbled.

Race didn’t answer as he busied himself in pulling out his headphones, though Albert could see his hands shaking.  Albert sat back in his seat and pulled out his own phone, electing to catch up on SnapChat until they arrived in The Bronx.

Fordham was significantly sketchier than the neighborhoods Albert was used to.  The storefronts they passed were all worn down and the deeper Race led Albert into the area, the dirtier it got.  Race hadn’t spoken a word to him since their conversation on the train, leaving Albert more or less in the dark about the specifics of where they were going.  Eventually, they arrived at an abandoned auto-shop.  

Race walked around to the back of the lot and knocked on one of the garage doors.  It opened a moment later to reveal a tall, gruff looking guy.

“You Racetrack?” He asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Yes, sir, I am,” Race said, sauntering over to him, “But, a little piece of constructive criticism, don’t ever voice your assumptions.  If you had been wrong about who was just now, that could have meant serious trouble for the both of us.”

The guy looked unimpressed, “I expected you to be less twiggy.”

“And I expected you to have more than one brain cell, but alas.”

“Whatever,” The guy said, “You got the shit?”

“Yeah,” Race retrieved the paper bag containing the weed from his jacket, “And you’ll get it as soon as I see the cash.”

The guy reached into his back pocket and produced an envelope, “Here, you see it.  Now give me the goddamn pot already.”

“Nuh uh uh,” Race wagged his finger, “Calm down, you useless junkie.  I already made it very clear the other day that it’s cash first, weed second.  Hand it over.”

“Show me the pot first,” Race opened the bag and held it out for the guy to see.  He peered at the bag’s contents, inspecting it closely, “And that’s two grams?”

Race clicked his tongue, “It should be.”

The guy nodded and reached into the envelope, revealing a large wad of cash.  He held it out for Race to take, who in turn, handed the paper bag over to him.

Once the items were exchanged, Race spit into his palm and offered it to the guy.  Without hesitation, the guy spit into his own hand and shook Race’s.  Albert wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Pleasure doing business,” Race said, formally.

The guy huffed a small laugh, “Okay.”

With that, he stalked back into the auto shop and closed the garage door.  Race turned to Albert, looking pleased.

“That went nice and smooth,” He said.

“Yeah, seemed easy,” Albert agreed.

“I’m hungry,” Race declared, “Let’s head back to The Bowery for lunch, then we can do our next trade.”

“What time’s our next trade?  And where?” Albert asked, following Race away from the autoshop.

“4:00 over in Washington Square Park.  We have a little while.”

The journey back to The Bowery seemed to take less time than the commute to The Bronx.  Race had loosened up significantly and was telling Albert about the other guys in Empire as they entered the theatre.

“So yeah, you met Finch and Crutchie- great guys by the way, absolute geniuses.  Aside from them, there’s Mush and Blink, who trade a lot over in Staten Island.  Blink’s got an eyepatch.  No one knows exactly what happened to his eye, but it definitely involved a knife.  Romeo is a little shit, but a total charmer, which comes in handy during trades.  Jojo’s the handyman- I’ve already told you about him.  Giant teddy bear, that guy.  Love him.  And then you met Jack and I’ve told you about Les and Davey- oh! I want you to meet Davey, he should be around today, one sec,” As they passed the recreation room, Race stuck his head in, “Hey, Mush.”

Albert peeked over Race’s shoulder to see a shorter guy with straight brown hair, playing solitaire.  He looked up upon hearing his name and smiled, “Hey Race,” He made eye contact with Albert and blinked, “You’re Albert, yeah? The dude Race pulled off the street?”

“Indeed, that’s me,” Albert said as Race pulled him into the room.

“Welcome, don’t fuck anything up,” Mush said, placing his cards onto the table and clasping his hands under his chin, “Did you guys need something?”

“Yeah,” Race leaned against the door, “D’you know where Davey is?”

“Uh, I’m not actually sure?  I saw him and Jack leave a little bit ago.  They said they have something they need to take care of over in SoHo.”

Race frowned, “That’s weird, I didn’t think that they had any trades today.”

Albert felt his blood run cold as he processed what Mush had told them, “Oh my god,” he muttered, “Oh my god.”

Race and Mush looked at him, confusion written on their faces, “What?  What’s wrong.”

Albert swallowed and met Race’s stare, panic running down his spine, “Elmer’s girlfriend lives in SoHo.”

“What are you-” Albert didn’t let Race finished as he fled the room, running towards the exit.

“Albert, slow down,” Race called, running after him, “Albert!”

Albert stopped just outside the theatre, turning around to look at Race with wide, terror-stricken eyes, “Race, please, I need to make sure Elmer’s okay.”

“But what does that have to do with his girlfriend-” Understanding dawned on Race’s face, “Wait shit, is he still at his girl’s place?”

“Yes and I think that’s where Jack and Davey are headed.  Come or don’t, I’m going,” Albert ran to the street and hailed a cab, Race climbing in next to him.

“Albert,” Race hissed, “You realize this is gonna make it worse, right?”

“Shut up,” Albert snapped, pulling out his phone and dialing Elmer’s number.  When he didn’t pick up, Albert called Sarah.

“Hello?” Sarah answered from the other side.  She sounded okay, which Albert took  as a good sign.

“Sarah, are you at your place?” Albert asked, urgently.

“No, I’m at the grocery store right now, why? Is everything okay?”

“Is Elmer with you?” Albert pushed.

“No,” Sarah said, slowly, “He was still asleep when I left, so he didn’t come.”

“Shit,” Albert cursed, “Shit shit shit.”

“Albert, what’s-” Sarah started, sounding worried.

“I gotta go, but don’t go home,” Albert demanded, not waiting for a reply as he hung up.  

They arrived in front of Elmer’s apartment complex fifteen minutes later.  Albert almost didn’t want to go inside, too afraid of what he might find.  He forced himself to get out of the cab nonetheless and sprinted in through the front, Race on his heels.  He bypassed the elevator, instead darting towards the door to the stairwell and scaling the three flights of stairs to Sarah’s floor.  When he got to the apartment, he found that it was locked.  

He cursed under his breath, then turned to Race, who was standing nervously a few feet away, “Do you have, like, anything you can use to pick locks?” He asked, impatiently.

Race looked like he was having some sort of internal battle as he reached into his boot and pulled out a knife, handing it to Albert, who stuck his tongue between his teeth as he fiddled with the doorknob.  It took a few minutes, but eventually he got heard the click indicating that he had succeeded.

“I don’t think you should go in there,” Race warned, but Albert ignored him.

The next thirty seconds felt like they went by in slow motion.  Albert opened the door to find Jack and a man in a button down shirt and sweater vest standing on the other side.  The man in the sweater vest was pointing a gun at Elmer, who was cowering against the wall.  Jack looked up as Albert entered the room and opened his mouth to shout something, but was cut off by the sound of a gunshot.  Albert looked over to see Elmer slump onto the floor, blood flowing steadily from his head.  He screamed and staggered backwards into Race, who caught him and lowered him to the floor.  The sound around Albert seemed to muffle.  The world was blurry and he was certain that people were talking around him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Albert, Jesus Christ,” He felt someone slap him across the face and he flinched, “Stop screaming or Davey’ll shoot you too,” Race’s voice bled into his consciousness and he was suddenly pulled back to reality.

He closed his mouth, stopping the screams that were escaping him.  Without thinking, he looked at Elmer’s body again and his stomach lurched.  He bent over to the side and threw up, unable to handle the sight any longer.  He heard the door close behind him, then the man in the sweater vest crouched down in front of him.

His eyes were alarmingly calm as he offered a hand to Albert, “You must be Albert.  I’m Davey, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

In the words of @newsies-of-nyc “R.I.P el, sorry bro”

next chapter we find out what ‘Rockefeller’ is oooo race’s dark past

TAG LIST:

@bencookisagod

@we-dont-sell-papes

@suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try

@well-the-kids-do-too

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@thatpoorguysheadisspinning

@newsies-of-nyc

@andthewoildwillknow

@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog

@sunshine-e-cigarettes

@have-we-got-news-for-you

@musical-shitposts

@thebroadwayaesthetic

#racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #ralbert #newsies #newsies fic #jack kelly #davey jacobs #fugitives

[supernaturalimaginesforthemasses]

Secrets in Blood part 2

Part 1

Summary: Dean and Sam take the reader shopping and Dean has to confront his own thoughts after a run in at a pizza place

Date: 8/3/18

Word Count: 3,041

Warnings: Language, reader not wearing a bra in one part and a bitchy waitress

Tags: @impalagirl94  @meganywinchester  @sammysgirl1997

Authors Note:  as always gifs are not mine but @impalagirl94 did make a few of them, aswell as helping me write this 

As you take the items from them, you let out a soft laugh as you unfold the pants. “ I’m going to have to roll these up like half the leg length just so I can move.” You chuckle again.

“ But I’ll let you boys get some rest, good night.” You say as you move into your room and close the door.

As you wake up you pull the pillow off your head, rolling over, you look at your phone to check the time, It's earlier than you usually wake up, but you don't feel the need to go back to sleep.

You move to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and to look for breakfast. You spot a yogurt in the fridge, and it'll make the perfect light breakfast. You move back to your room with your coffee and yogurt in hand, almost falling on your face twice due to the long pants Sam had given you, taking a quick look around to make sure no one is around, you set your items on the floor, you quickly take off the pants and drape them over your forearm. Once back in your room you get comfy laying on your stomach you prop a pillow under your chest for support and decide to watch some Netflix on your phone, enjoying your quiet time alone.

Halfway into your third episode of "Nailed it" your door swings open to reveal both Sam and Dean.

You roll over to look at them, and you notice Dean biting his lower lip and eyeing you up and down,

Sam, on the other hand, looks nervous and is looking anywhere but at you,

looking down you realize why you had yet to put on a bra. You feel your face heat up as you see that they see absolutely everything through your white shirt. " Sorry, let me just put on a bra really quick." You say as you move off the bed.

" It's a bit late for that sweetheart, but don't worry, we don't mind," Dean says with a smirk, but Sam just smacks his arm, causing his face to fall

You move away from them to turn around, facing the wall, you take your shirt over your head to fasten your bra, once you're finished you replace your shirt and turn back to continue your conversation.

Looking back at them you notice a slight frown on Dean's face before Sam speaks up.

" We umm... just came to see if you were ready to go shopping, but I'm thinking you need a bit longer, so we can just come back later." Sam says as he drags Dean out of the room.

After they leave, you move to the bathroom, you don't have anything to help get ready, but you can at least wash your face and use the extra toothbrush the boys gave you from the night before and trying to brush out your hair with your fingers.

You walk out into the kitchen seeing a breakfast laid out, you set down next to Sam as you steal a piece of bacon off Dean's plate and some avocado toast from Sam, you already had your yogurt so you don't need much more.

You all finish eating and head out to the car, you hop in the back as the boys shove their long legs into the front seat.

" Don't worry about the cost of anything today, it may not be exactly legal but we have more than a disposable income." Sam says as he turns around to look at you.

It takes Dean maybe 20 minutes to get to the mall, the drive is an easy one, the bys talking back and forth over random things as you just listen, trying to get to know them a bit more.

One thing you learn is they are 100% brothers, you can tell that even though there are times they want to fight each other, they'd fight the world for each other.

You laugh at their antics as you all walk into the store, Dean leading the way with Sam right beside you.

Inside the first store, you take in the many racks of colorful clothing, moving to the section for pants you start looking for jeans in your size, Sam following your lead and looking for the same thing he sees you grabbing, Dean, on the other hand, keeps grabbing booty shorts in different colors, as he puts them in your cart you put most of them back on the shelf and get a few more sensible pair. Because all brands fit differently you move to the changing rooms.  You try on around 7 pairs of pants, maybe 4 of them fit but unfortunately the ones Sam picked for you are way to long because he didn't know to grab short ones. Taking the ones that fit, you head to get shirts next, you grab everything from T's to tanks and anything else that catches your eye, you turn around to ask the boy's opinion on a shirt only to notice that Dean has disappeared, you think he just got bored or something.  

You haven't had this much fun in a very long time, you have to convince them to take you shopping more often.

A nervous feeling washes over you as you realize that you still need undergarments, you don't mind buying things like this but you feel weird having Sam with you for it.

" Hey, Sam, I need to go get...some.. uhh... other things, so if you want to go find Dean, I understand." You say blushing and avoiding eye contact.

"Hey, I don't mind, I'll go wherever you want, and besides I don't want to leave you alone, especially with angels still after you." Sam says and he moves your face to look at him.  He has such a soft touch that gives you a tingly feeling all through your body, you feel like crawling into his arms and just stay in his embrace all safe and warm.  

Snapping yourself out of the daze you're in, you move to find undergarments, you grab a few bras, one for workouts,  a couple for every day, one lacy for dressy outfits, and a few bralettes for easy days, you didn't have help looking for. You also slide over to grab panties, Sam remembered the size from when you were grabbing pants so he helps in grabbing different colors once he learns the kind you like, from cheekies to what you call " Lady boxers", Sam picks up a few pairs of sexy panties as a joke but you just look a way to hide your blush. The truth is you actually like things like that but you just feel weird about it when you don't have someone to wear it for.

You both finish your shopping adventure to find dean packing arms full of bags into baby's trunk, assuming he just bought stuff for him you put your things in the back seat with you to keep them separate.

" Thanks for helping me today, now I won't have to wear your stuff anymore." You say with a laugh.

" Who said you wearing our stuff was a bad thing? It's been a long time since I had a beautiful woman walking around in my clothes, and even longer for Sam." Dean assures you as he elbows Sam.

" Dean stop,you're going to embarrass her, and me." Sam returns, giving Dean a bitch face.

" She's fine and I didn't say anything that wasn't true." He defends

" It's ok Sammy, I'm a big girl well maybe not in hight." You say with a laugh " But how about some food, we've been shopping for 4 hours and I'm starving." You add as your stomach growls as if on cue.

" Sure, we can stop on the way home, what do you want?"  Sam asks.

" I think that actually, I'm kinda hungry for pizza, but we can get whatever, I'm not picky." You answer him.

"Pizza it is." Dean says as he speeds up.

It's half an hour drive from the mall to the restaurant, the ride is mostly quiet with the exception of Sam asking where Dean was when you were shopping but he just brushes it off by saying " you'll find out later."

Once you arrive you all get out and Dean leads the way in and then down to a table. A waitress brings over some menus for you all, she places them in front of you and you smile and thank her till you look down to notice a kids menu on the table before you. She begins taking your drink orders, water for Sam, and a beer for Dean.

" I'll take an Iced tea and is there any way I could get an adult menu?" You ask as you hand it back to her

"Sorry, kiddo, we only have kids menus till you're 15 here. "  She says looking rather pleased with herself.

" That wouldn't be a problem if I was under 15, but unlike you, I have aged with grace, so go back and take your dementia pills and get me the adults menu." You say with a glare.

She brings the drinks for you all, handing you an adult menu,  and takes your orders. " What can I get everyone tonight. appetizers, a booster seat maybe?" She asks looking right at Dean for the first part and then at you for the end, she looks a little too closely at Dean for your taste but you have no say in who she mentally undresses.

" I'll take the Caesar salad please," Sam says as he hands her his menu.

 " I'd like the pizza salad and is there any way I could order like 3 slices without getting a whole pizza?" You ask as you hand her yours as well.

" Well if you knew how to read maybe you would have seen that we don't sell by the slice, only by the pie. But don't sell yourself short, you think you're a big girl so just get a whole one." She says as she smirks a little

"Darling if you were a little less slutty and a LOT smarter you could notice that there is a lot of other ways to get those guy's attention. I'll give you one example: NOT BEING A RUDE BITCH !" You watch as her face turns redder with anger at each word passes your lips, and yes you may be going a little to far but she hit a nerve on this one and she's going to be knocked down a few pegs tonight.

" I'll take a whole pizza, but put three pieces on a plate for her, I'd also like another beer, and a new waitress, preferably one that's not a bitch, and if this place doesn't have that we're leaving. Either way, I want to speak with your manager before you put our order in." Dean butts in, breaking the standoff you're having with the waitress, he begins raising his voice with each word to sound more threatening and it gives you chills to hear the power he holds, he can be fucking scary and he knows it.

She leaves with a very scared look on her face, after a few short minutes she returns with a woman who's dressed a bit more Profesional.

"Hello, everyone, I hear that you aren't having a great dining experience tonight. May I ask what the problem is?" The woman whom you assume is a manager asks.

" Well it started as soon as we got here, first she brought Y/N a kids menu and then when asked if she could have an adult one she made a comment about how only kids menus are allowed to kids under 15, and she is very clearly not under 15. Next, when she brought the adult menu she asked if Y/N needed a booster seat, when someone is clearly old enough to not need a booster seat it's just rude to ask. Then when Y/N had a question about the menu she made a dumbass comment about how maybe if she learned to read she could read what the menu says and that since she " thinks she's a big girl" she can eat a whole pizza. This is very unprofessional and no one treats my girl like this!" Dean starts shouting toward the end and there's a panic in his eyes as he registers what just came out of his mouth, thankfully you don't seem to notice and he's grateful for that, Sam, on the other hand, does hear his comment but at least he doesn't say anything.

" I'm very sorry for this sir, we've had multiple problems with her in the past but I think this is it, she'll be fired right away and your meal will be on the house tonight." She says as she keeps apologizing.

The rest of your meal goes by without any problems, and you all have plenty of food to take home with you. Deciding to call it a day you all head back to the bunker. It's still another half hour back and with a full belly and the hum of babies engine, you soon fall asleep.

Dean's POV

I still can't believe i said that, I mean yes she's very attractive and given the chance I could actually see myself with someone like her for good, maybe settle down and quit hunting even, but who am I kidding, she probably doesn't even see me like that and this is only her second day here, I'm probably just going through a crush. 'Crush' now that's a thought that hasn't crossed my mind in years, but how has this little fisty thing gotten me so messed up when it comes to her?

"So, Dean, do you want to tell me why you called her 'your girl'?" Sam asks.   "Because I don't remember you ever asking her out, and you didn't even stick around when shopping, so please explain that to me." He adds

"I don't know Sam it just came out, I was pissed and had no filter, just be glad that's all I said." He answers as he pulls a store parking lot. "We have an extra mouth now so I'm going to get food while we're in town." I say as I get out.

Y/N POV

You wake up as the sound in the trunk slamming shut fills your ears, you quickly gather up your bags and follow behind as you and head inside.

Stepping in your room you see all the bags dean bought as well a few from the store you remember passing in town, opening the mall bags you find that there are not only more clothes but housewares as well. You see soft fluffy rugs and a couple extra pillows ( firm and soft), bedding sets and throw blankets, towels and a robe, all in random colors but you love the crazy look it'll add.

opening the store bags you see all the essentials you forgot about, hair products like shampoo and conditioner, bath supplies such as shower gel,bubble bath, sugar scrubs, shaving creams and razors, and then more personal products like pads and tampons along with heating pads, muscle rub and different painkillers, Dean thought of everything. You put it all away as you go through it, and once done you leave to look for the boys.

You find sam first in the library, walking up you wrap your arms around him in a big hug. " Thanks for the day out today Sam, I'm really grateful for it." You say as you release him,  looking up at him with a smile you attempt to kiss his cheek but considering the fact that you literally stand shorter than his shoulders on your tip toes, you definitely miss your mark. Pulling away with a blush you hide your gaze from his eyes. "So, umm, where's Dean?" You ask as you look around the library.

"Dean went out tonight, to a bar I think, I don't know when he'll be back, maybe morning if he finds a hookup." He says as reads off the text dean had sent him earlier.

"Do you think I should wait up for him? What if he's really drunk and falls down the stairs? Shouldn't one of us wait for him?" You ask not knowing what you're supposed to do

"Yeah, I definitely wouldn't recommend that he could be gone for a couple days depending on the hookup. Look, it's late how about we all go to bed and tomorrow we can go do something without Dean, something you like?" He compromises

"Oh,OK, that sounds like a nice plan. I'm going to head to bed though. Good night Sam, I'll see you in the morning." You say as you turn to leave

#supernatural x reader #dean x reader #spn imagine #supernatural imagines #deanxreader #spn fluff #spn #dean x reader x sam #sam x reader fluff #sam x reader x dean #sam x reader #sam winchester imagine

[shookethbrooketh]

Church Boy - Chapter 4

Other than the bizarre bell schedule, the new school didn’t seem anywhere near as bad as he’d expected. In fact, as he waved goodbye to Phil and started the trek to where he remembered he’d shown him his fourth period to be, he began to think it might even be a hell of a lot better as his old school. In fact, it might even be the place he’d finally find happiness.

Description: Phil’s lived in the same town and gone to the same church his entire life. But when his pastor leaves, a new one comes in, with his teenage son Dan in tow. He’s broken; real broken. And he thinks Phil’s just another church boy that’s going to hate him just as much as everyone else he’s ever met, but maybe he’s just going to be the one that can fix all his broken parts.

Genre: AU, High School, Strangers to Lovers

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Homophobia/Transphobia

Fic Warnings (Not Final!): Heavy Speak of Religion, Heavy Homophobia, Swearing, Discussion of Sex, Fighting with Family

Chapter Word Count: 2.5k Total Word Count: 8.8k

Read it on Ao3! Read it on Wattpad! Fic Masterlist

Dan stepped into the room and took it in. There were cheesy math posters all around the room, hung a consistent few inches from the ceiling. A few were peeling, but they still looked as pristine as cheesy math posters could. The room appeared to be intensely cleaned and organized, yet it gave off a calming vibe due to the darkness, as the only light in the room was the sunlight from the windows. There was a bellwork problem projected on the board, and a few kids were sitting sparsely in desks working on it. A few gave glances to Dan, but nobody could bother to address him; they were too busy frantically trying to finish their bellwork before the bell rang. 

“I sit here,” Phil said. “Right under the fan.” He looked as if snatching a chair under the ceiling fan at the beginning of the year was the one event in his life he took the most pride in. Dan cocked his neck up to look at the violently rotating fan, and he couldn’t quite blame him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that there was no air conditioning in that room, and it must have gotten hot as hell at the beginning of the school year. “Nobody sits there,” he added, pointing to the chair to his left. “You can just sit there for now.” 

Dan slipped into the chair and pulled his notebook out of his binder to start copying the bellwork, and he was suddenly overwhelmed. He had started Precalc at his old school, but they hadn’t yet done the problem on the board or even anything like it. And that’s when it struck him that he hadn’t even started Chemistry. Both of those were honors classes, and they both built on what they had already learned, and Dan hadn’t a clue what he had missed. 

Dan’s breathing had begun to get heavy when he found a tall, dark-haired woman towering over him. “You must be the new student. Is everything going alright here?” 

“No, actually,” he let out, trying to calm himself. “I took Precalc in my old school, but we hadn’t gotten here yet.” 

In the split second before she answered, he could hear her telling him to go change his schedule because she couldn’t have him behind. He could already feel himself losing the one class he had with Phil. 

“That’s okay!” she said, and Dan’s eyes popped out of his head. 

“It is?” 

“Of course. You couldn’t be too far behind, so I can give you some worksheets and lessons to catch you up. You should be totally fine by next week. We’re currently about to start a totally new unit, so you should be able to follow along just fine.” 

“Thank you!” Dan said, a smile crossing his face as all his anxiety, about that particular class, at least, dissipated. He decided to give up on the bellwork and looked towards Phil, who was sitting and staring off into the distance, having already finished the problem. 

“You’re right; this school really isn’t half bad,” he whispered over to him. 

“I told you!” Phil said back in a bit more than a whisper, which earned them a less menacing than Dan would have expected glance from the teacher. “It’s gonna be fine,” he said with a smile as the bell rang. 

“Have a great day, and be thinking about who you want your partner to be!” 

The words were no use, as the entire class was already out the door the second the bell rang. “How the hell are we doing a project in math?” Dan asked, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. 

“Don’t ask me!” Phil said, glancing over at Dan. It was obvious what he was thinking. “By the way, you can be my partner.” 

Phil immediately saw Dan’s face brighten. “Who says I wanna be your partner?” 

Phil grinned, biting his lip a bit. “Well, I can find someone else, if that’s what you’d prefer.” 

“You know, it’s your lucky day; I think I’ll take the partnership.” 

“Great.” 

They had made their way halfway down the hall when Phil stopped at his next class, Dan walking on ahead of him. “Dan, wait!” he shouted, and Dan’s head snapped back. “This is my next class.” 

“Oh,” he said, seeming a bit disappointed. 

“You remember where your second is, right?” 

“I got it. If worst comes to worst I’ll be late.”

“Alright. Good luck, and have fun!” he called out as he started to walk into the room. 

“If you say so,” Dan laughed out as he walked in the opposite direction. 

Phil was a bit concerned about Dan being alone on his first day; he wasn’t sure why, but he was. He was sixteen; he could handle himself. For some reason, though, Phil couldn’t help but worry about him. All through his second he was distracted, thinking about Dan downstairs and hoping his class was going well. 

He was finally jolted from his trance when the bell rang; he hadn’t managed to copy a word of the notes for the last half hour of class. Hopefully he’d think to pick them up from someone eventually. When he slipped out the door, he was far too anxious to try and find Dan; he checked his phone and saw no texts from him, so he tried to convince himself that meant he was alright and headed to his third. 

Somehow, Phil managed to pay even less attention in third than he did in second. He couldn’t even focus on his friends beside him being absolute dumbasses (as per usual). All he could ever focus on was the ticking clock, inching closer minute by minute to when he could finally meet Dan for lunch. 

After yet another class of missing the entire lecture, Phil was the first one out the door towards the lunchroom. He had already memorized the fact that Dan had chemistry third, so he made sure to head straight there first. 

The students were just beginning to pour out of the classroom when he got there; he’d plowed his way down the hall. He hadn’t realized it, but all the kids he nearly knocked over definitely did. Phil watched a bunch of kids in his class give him a confused glance as they walked past him; after all, it probably wasn’t the most normal thing on the planet to see someone panting outside their classroom. Finally, Dan filed out of the room, a weary smile on his face. “Hey, Phil!”

“Hey, Dan!” A smile crossed his face as he realized lunch was definitely going to be the best part of his day. 

Dan couldn’t help but smile as he saw Phil waiting in the doorway; he had been so overexcited to see him that he had obviously literally ran, and Dan found that fucking adorable. 

“How were your last two classes?” Phil asked him.

He frowned a bit. “Eh, they were alright. Spanish wasn’t too bad; apparently Spanish at my old school was a lot more intense. The teachers here don’t really know how to control their classes.” He flashed back to screaming freshmen that he didn’t even know how got in to Spanish 3. Those voices would haunt him for a long, long time. 

Phil chuckled. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“Chemistry kinda sucked. I had it next semester in my old school, so I just walked in halfway through the class and I’m completely lost. I’m going to have to have the teacher catch me up, but I’ll get it eventually, I guess. It’s just...” he sighed, trailing off. “a lot of work.”

“I get that,” Phil said. “Playing catch up is the worst.” 

Dan smiled, but he was a bit angry that Dan didn’t really get it. He’d never had to pick up and move before. Well, maybe he had, but that didn’t seem like what he meant. Getting the flu was different from missing half of a semester, especially of Chemistry. 

“Lunch?” Phil asked. 

It was just then that Dan realized how hungry he was. He had been so stressed the entire morning that he hadn’t even thought about food, but he was starving. Third lunch was terrifyingly late, and Dan ate half his lunch in class at his old school where he had lunch an hour earlier. Now that he thought about it, he was starving. “Definitely.” 

They were about to start walking when a two boys and a girl walked up behind Phil. “There you are, dude! You literally took off running there,” said the boy on the right. Suddenly all their eyes seemed to fall on Dan at once, and he could almost feel them all staring into his soul. “Who’s this?” 

“Oh, guys, meet Dan! He’s new here.” 

“Hi,” Dan said inwardly. 

“Dan, this is James,” Phil said. James was the boy on the far left; he was tall, but not too lanky, with tan skin and brown hair. He looked a bit like a surfer, except it was evident that he’d never surfed before in his life. He did a bit of an awkward wave and let his hand fall at his side. “Eli,” the boy on the right had pure blonde hair, and he was a few inches shorter than James, as well as a bit more heavyset. The first word that came to Dan’s mind to describe him was ‘adorable’, but something told him the boy was anything but adorable and innocent. He said a quick “hey” and raised his hand to indicate his existence. “and Nora.” Nora was the only girl of the group, and she was standing in the middle of the other two. She had short, brown hair, about the same shade as his, and she was about the same height as Eli. She wore a dirty, black hoodie and jeans even though it was an uncharacteristically hot day for October. She simply gave him some finger guns. They seemed like nice kids, but that didn’t stop Dan from thinking they were staring into his soul. “They’re my closest friends. They may be hella weird sometimes,” he said, glaring at all three of them. “But I love them, and I think you’ll like them too.” 

“Rad,” was all Dan said. 

The five of them made their way down the stairs to the lunchroom, where Phil’s friends headed to what Dan assumed was their group’s table. There were already a couple kids sitting there, who they each greeted with a “hey” and sat down. Dan stood awkwardly for a moment at the head of the table before Phil patted the seat beside him and he scurried off to sit down. Most of the other kids didn’t notice him. 

“So, today in history, I was working with James, Eli, and Ben, and we made an entire page of Vines on our project,” Phil said. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Phil, this is the fifth one this semester!” Nora exclaimed, overwhelmed but obviously a bit intrigued. 

“Oh?” Dan asked, he himself also quite intrigued. He didn’t know that much about Phil or his group, but as much as he felt like the outsider he was definitely interested in their antics. “

“Well, at the beginning of the year we wrote about Waluigi...” 

To Dan, something about the ten-minute story that appeared to be Phil’s favorite felt like an induction to the group, because by the time he finished they were on their way to hang out in the library, Dan in tow laughing. He didn’t even feel like an outsider anymore; sure, he didn’t get their inside jokes, but he felt included in the conversations and even in the group. He had only managed to eat half his lunch, but he figured he’d finish it in his fourth. He knew to eat before lunch the next day, so he’d be fine. 

Dan entered the library with Phil, Nora, Eli, James, and who he assumed to be Ben. He deduced that the library was where they usually went when they finished up in the cafeteria, even though none of them appeared to be avid readers. Instead they made their way into a corner and began laughing at something Dan couldn’t even comprehend. Within thirty seconds, Dan, Phil, and Nora were leaning up against a bookcase watching Ben, Eli, and James in a standing pileup. Ben was in James’s arms, and Eli was simply laughing so hard he was about to fall into the other two. Phil and Nora were roaring with laughter as well, and Dan couldn’t help but to join in.

“Is this normal?” he asked his two companions. 

“Oh, definitely,” said Nora. “They literally do this every day. Before school, during lunch, sometimes even after school. Literally everyone here is gay.”

Dan cackled. “Really?” 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Phil piped in. “They might not actually be gay, but they sure act like it. We’re all just waiting for it to actually happen. It’s a pretty good life, to be honest.” 

“Damn right,” Dan responded. They stood in silence for a moment, the three boys still poking at each other, before Dan’s curiosity finally got the best of him. “Are there really that many gays in this school?” 

“Eh, there aren’t too many,” Phil said, shrugging. “All three of us are, any number of them might be, and there’s a good few more circulating. It’s really not as bad as you’d think.” 

“Yeah, I would have expected at least one redneck to mock me for some gay mannerism by now,” Dan said, half joking. 

“I had a trans friend they called ‘it’ for a while, but that’s about as bad as it got. They can sometimes get ugly with the slurs, but we don’t really notice it much. It’s actually pretty chill here, for the most part,” Nora added, as if she’d discussed the topic many a time. Both Nora and Phil seemed completely accustomed to the environment they’d found themselves in, from its best to its worst. 

“Oh, yeah. They’re not the worst. They might just be oblivious though,” Phil said, throwing one strap off his backpack and slinging it over his chest so it faced Dan. “You see this?” he asked, pointing to a Hot Topic pin with a rainbow flag on it. “I’ve had this since freshman year, and not a single one of them has noticed. In fact, most of them still think I’m straight, despite my constant closet jokes. In reality, they just don’t give a shit about anything or anyone around it, and I’m not mad about taking advantage of it.” 

Dan shrugged. “Fair.” 

The bell rang, and Phil slung his backpack back over his shoulder. Dan glanced at the clock, reading 1:24. That school had the weirdest bell schedule Dan had ever seen, and he wasn’t excited to get used to it, but he’d live. Other than the bizarre bell schedule, the new school didn’t seem anywhere near as bad as he’d expected. In fact, as he waved goodbye to Phil and started the trek to where he remembered he’d shown him his fourth period to be, he began to think it might even be a hell of a lot better as his old school. In fact, it might even be the place he’d finally find happiness. 

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phic stuff #church boy

[vacationcalendar]

8/7/21

Hi boyfriend~

Just took a weed gummie in honor of Bonnie’s birthday weekend. My present for my friend is that I’ll suck it up and be an active participant in their life for a change. I’ll be game for a whole weekend. I got up early today and tagged along to volunteer at a charity 5k. We grabbed some coffee and wandered to the halfway point of the course (thus walking an entire 5k in the process! Not too shabby ;D), and then camped out a water station that I’d say should be very grateful I actually showed up to work its sorry ass. Bonnie didn’t have to do any managing/delegating, they just got to post up and chatter at the runners-by. I’m pretty sure if I didn’t go, and I promise I am not tooting my own horn, that water stand would not have been the fun water stand that it was. They would have had 2 dunces making it go worse, and only 3 people managing 4 tables of water cups. Volunteers man, what are you gonna do? I’m sure that’s why they were looking for 8 people per water stand, just to statistically ensure that SOMEONE with half a brain would be around to help out.

Great morning though. JUST a little too hot, but that’s how you know you were doing solid work out there. The proof is in the pits, baby!

Ok, 40 minute bathroom break is over. Man, nothing like starting the blog to make me SO productive in the mornings! It’s such a cheat code. I did laundry, dishes, pooped; my whole day is bright and available now! But now I’m tired and I don’t want to write anymore. I had about a 6 minute where I wanted to do this today and I actually hit it for a second before I had to stop and do ANYTHING ELSE I guess. So, fuck. What do we write now?

I had to get up suuuuper early for this 5k thing, and I only got like 4 hours of sleep because I did not factor in the early wake up until like 6pm yesterday, and I had already slept like 14 hours that day :I That’s right, I woke up, immediately crushed the blog, went back to laying down, played League, and watched tv and shit until I felt tired enough to sleep and get ready for the 5k, which was 2am. So now I have a weed gummie digesting in me and I have a nap climbing up my priority list and this is why I don’t like weed. I feel like I have to plan my fucking shit around it, and I’m not good at that. Part of me thinks I can crash right now and wake up before the drugs make me sleep for 2 hours longer than I want, and give me weird, unpleasant dreams. I can’t possibly pull that off, I’m not sleepy, I’m just like sluggish. So basically what I have to do now is power through into the “trip” (maybe I’ll luck out and miss it and I can just pretend I’m high, which I won’t do, but hey we’re brainstorming here), and let that smoothly transition me into a nap. And THAT would mean that I have to entertain myself for the time being to get me into a good place to start being high...? And then I can like power up my activities WHILE high, and that would be fun. Playing video games, great. Playing video game high? That’s the whole point of it. I mean like, that’s the whole point of life, right? And then I can be like NAPTIME BITCH, and that would be fun also, in theory. And then I can go put a podcast on and go to the movies? Ugh, I don’t want to go the movies anymore. I’m to tired :( This sucks.

I’m trying to go see Green Knight. I’m sure that sentence won’t matter at all in even like 4 months from now, but I think it should be a fun time. So much more productive than anything I can do from the desk. And it’s not summertime like this forever. You gotta get that shit in so you don’t think you miss it when the weather turns. You want to be sitting inside on a cold autumn day thinking “good riddance, being outside is entirely overrated.” And I’m not there yet. Man I don’t know. Well how bout this? Let’s do a little more brainstorming while I’m trapped here writing to your dumb ass. If you ever read these again this part will be like a little prank on you lol. Ok: 1: Stay here, no movie. Let’s lock that in. that should make having to navigate being high so much easier. Let’s let the pipe dream of doing everyone’s favorite thing of being at a theater high wait just a little longer. Today can be a trial run. We’ll walk around today and think about what it would be like if I had biked 20 minutes to a movie theater and watched a 2 hour movie and biked home. And when we suss out that it would have been unenjoyable, we’ll feel like geniuses for making this call. So that’s out of the way. LOCK IT IN

2. I don’t know yet. Let’s just start simple. Food. What’s up? We have almost no groceries. We have no bread for a tuna salad sandwich, but let’s put that in the to-do list. We need more english muffins too. That was an A+ 10/10 move last month. Just muffins w/ strawberry jam, and egg McMuffins whenever the fuck I wanted, which was always. Frozen Veggies like Corn or Beans would be good. Bag Chop Salad kits. They weren’t on sale last week, and it’s goddamn highway robbery when they’re at full price. So this week would be the perfect time to check in on ‘em. And I’ll commit more to an equivalent substitute this time if I can’t find a good deal. Let’s see, what else? Oof my wpm and accuracy is starting to take a hit. The first and only symptom! Nice! Miku. Meat. Spaghetti and meat sauce? Gotta check out what ragu shit you have in the house before you do that. Consider this your reminder! I know you’ve never successfully pulled that off, but I have full confidence in you. Oh fuck, now I’m starting to worry a little bit the coherent quality of this is about to start dropping. Well, another fun little prank for ya bitch! Fruit leathers? I just have no fucking idea. Ok, so shopping can 100% wait for another day. This isn’t anywhere close to a cohesive trip. So we can eat out somewhere! Great, lock it bitch. I’m starting to swear more; it’s because I can’t find the right words anymore. Oh boy, the weed smelling burps are happening. This really is so gross and difficult. Beer is just a more bitter version of soda. It’s actively refreshing. Damn, if only I’d been a little more exposed to peer pressure at an earlier age. I’d have been past this awkward uncomfortable phase of weed, like how I (and basically everyone) was with alcohol. You slam Natty Lites with your nose closed until you start to realize life is little more pleasurable than the absolute Kelvin zero you had come to be familiar with. Uh, ok, I’m starting to let my mind wander. He’s daydreaming, chief! I suppose I could just transcribe the dialogue of the daydreams, but I can’t keep up. This is just break o’clock.

3. What do I fucking eat!? I had to make a whole nother numbered point, and I still don’t have the plan. Jesus H,. Ok here’s what AROUND. Chex Mix, unopened. 1 Grape Soda. Cookie Dough Ice Cream (w choc sauce). Raisins, PB, Ramen, meh. Reese Cups! I just looked behind and was like, “oh yeah! Nice”. If that’s not everything, that’s REALLY close. So what’s calling my name? Pizza? Chinese? Damn, I might just have to play this by ear. Nothing at all sounds interesting, and I’m not the slightest bit hungry (we got free Dim Sum after the 5k. It was called the Dim Sum and Then Some 5k). Ok, so other options to keep on the back burner for later would be: Kebab, Chicken Sandwich, go get Pizza Rolls and Chippies at the store. Ok that’s enough options, that fuckin really took it outta me, I can’t believe it. My hands are kinda feeling heavier now too. I better think of a #4 thing to write about quick or I may lose all my inertia.

4. UMmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Movie time? I watch arrival and turn off all the lights and pop popcorn and have my soda? Where sunglasses and pretend they’re 3-D glasses? Maybe. Ugh, I can tell right now my eyes are gonna get bloodshot, or dry out or whatever. They already kinda hurt :(. It’s fine. I feel more good than not. Like I’m wrapped up in a blanket, even though I’m not. Maybe OH- Maybe I lay out on the beach chair and read in the sun with an ice coffee? Oh fuck that might actually be perfect. Then I can go no shirt and just feel nature, and maybe bugs are less troublesome when you’re high. And then I can pop Doughboys on and shower! Shower high, seems like a guaranteed home-run. Ok, I like it a lot. I have to do SOMETHING away from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum or I’ll go crazy this weekend, especially if I have to tag in on occasion and “participate” for Bonnie’s Birthday. Which, let’s be clear, is the least I can do. It’s a gimme. I owe Bonnie AT LEAST this much, even just as like backpay for holidays or yore. Like if I have the zhuzh to punch in for birthday shtuff, I better do it, right? I just looked it up, it might officially be zhoosh, not zhuzh, but zhuzh appears to me to be the best way to do it. And there’s like 5 accepted spellings of it. Stupid, not helpful. Just because it employs a sound that has no [conformed] applications in the english language? Poor excuse! Oh man, it’s so early I can’t believe it! That 5k feels like a day ago, wild. Well, hey! Point 4 is finished. Moving on!

5. What to do tonight? Who gives a fuck. Figure that part out when you get there, it does not matter at all. There, numbered list over.

Ok so, let’s just wrap this up I guess. I’m cracking an hour here, that’s plenty. Maybe tonight you do a little PRE-WRITING before bed, so this isn’t so “chore-y”. Let’s just remember you seriously considered letting yourself down completely and bailing on the blog earlier this morning. So we need to keep our expectations at appropriate levels still. It’s this NEXT week that should be very interesting. Just in terms of output. A little more practice, and little more muscle-memory. A little less crap to distract me (I have been burning through non-stop crap youtube/tv this last week since coming home, it’s fantastic. I was gonna say it was sucky, or disgusting or something, but that’s a lie I tell to myself to pretend I’m more diligent than I actually am. ACCEPT who you are and love yourself for it)

I accept you and love you Max. Ok, I have to go, I feel like I’m gonna puke... awesome 

bi

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Fan Novel (Book 1, Chapter 3)

Darkness enfolds me, cold, quiet, and still. Then it stirs, creeping towards me. Powerful, rippling muscles. Glowing golden eyes...

I awake with a gasp beneath a leafy canopy in a four-poster bed. Sweat soaks the soft sheets and blanket. I flop back on the pillow, willing my heart to slow.

“What the hell was that thing?” I murmur aloud. It takes me a few moments to stop trembling. But once I do, I start to feel the effects of the night before creeping up on me, and I groan. I knocked back a couple more cocktails after coming back up from the beach, mostly to calm myself down. The throbbing pain behind my eyes tells me that was a very poor idea. Not to mention the effects of the late night in general. It occurs to me to wonder what time it is. I fumble for my phone on the nightstand beside me.

9:27am. And still no cell service. I check for a wi-fi signal, but there is none to be found. Not even a secured signal. I sigh and put the phone down. Might as well get up, I guess. I push back the covers, stumbling into the bathroom.

I turn on the shower and gulp some water from the sink while I wait for the stream to get warm. It doesn't take long, and I strip and step under the soothing water. The strong pressure feels like a gentle massage. The shower is stocked with exotic floral body washes and shampoos. I savor the fragrance as I scrub the sweat from my body and rinse the chlorine from my hair. I should have done that last night. Blonde hair and pool water usually don't mix. But so far my hair hasn't turned green. Sooner than I want to, I turn off the water and step out onto the mossy green bathmat. I gulp more sink water. I make the bed—because I haven't seen the housekeeping staff anywhere, either—pull on some clothes, and hang my towel to dry.

By the time I've finished brushing my teeth, the headache is fading, and my stomach is starting to growl. I take a few more gulps of water, tuck my room key into my pocket and wander down to the hotel restaurant.

I'm greeted by a chaotic scene, and a cacophony of smells from the buffet table.

“Uh, Raj,” Sean says, “when you said you were going to cook breakfast, I figured, you know, pancakes and bacon. Not...what is this, again?”

“The Raj Hangover Special 9000! A perfect scramble of eggs, potatoes, oysters, and bananas, topped off with pickle juice. Trust me, dudes, it'll cure your hangovers before you can say 'this tastes gross and weird.' Just try it.”

“...This tastes gross and weird,” Jake mutters.

Zahra grimaces. “I do not want this in this place, I do not want this in my face.”

“Y'all are missing out,” Craig declares, shoveling in another mouthful. “This shizz is delicious!”

“I once saw you eat a rock,” Michelle says flatly.

“That was a dare, and I won ten bucks!”

As they notice my entrance, my classmates go quiet.

“Well, well, well,” Jake drawls. “If it isn't the Girl Who Cried Monster.”

“Seriously, Alodia,” Raj laughs. “You shut down the party faster than the cops back home.”

“That's what you care about?” Estella sneers.

I smile sheepishly. “Sorry about that. I know I kinda freaked everyone out last night.”

“Pfft. Didn't freak me out,” Craig insists. “Nothing freaks Craig out!”

“Craig, let Alodia talk,” Sean chides.

“...That's pretty much it. I promise I'll try not to ruin anymore parties.”

“Good!” Raj says. “Because tonight, we're running it baaaaaack!”

Everyone laughs. I join in, but I stop when I notice Estela looking at me with disappointment.

“Hey, stranger.” Diego sidles up to me, holding a plate piled high with Raj's sizzling hangover cure. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I'm fine. It was just...a rough night.”

“Care for some breakfast?”

I eye the plate in his hands warily. The concoction looks like pureed scrambled eggs and smells like salted fish. “...I don't know if I should.”

“It's actually not bad.” He grins as my stomach growls audibly. “And face it, you need to eat something. Let's get you a plate.”

I relent, and move to the buffet table where I fill a plate with pale yellow salty-fish-scented goop. I fill a glass with orange juice.

“So, uh...I hate to give you a middle school flashback, but what table should we sit at?”

I look around for two empty seats. At one table, Michelle asks Raj and Craig where the resort gym is. At another, Aleister, Grace, and Zahra are discussing something Grace found at the beach. I drift over to the first table. I know Michelle hates me, but I like Raj, and I don't have anything against Craig. Besides, I can probably follow their conversation better.

“Hey, guys. I heard you talking about the gym? I'd totally be down to hit that up.”

Michelle scoffs. “Oh, sweetie, did you think I was talking to you? I'm going to the gym because I want to work out, not watch you have another meltdown.”

“Hey!” Diego says. “At the peak of her gymnastics career, Allie was in the gym about five hours a day!”

“Slight exaggeration. And I hardly had a career.” But I flash him a grateful smile.

“Come on, Michelle,” Raj chimes in. “Go easy on Alodia. We're all stuck on this island together, we might as well get along.”

“Pfft. Says you. I don't get along with anyone I don't want to.”

“Craig, dude, you don't get along with anyone, period.”

“He's got you there,” Michelle says.

I cover a chuckle by stuffing a forkful of egg goo into my mouth. ...It's like eating a pile of mushy salt with fish, banana, and egg aftertaste. If only I weren't so hungry. I gulp the rest of it before I can taste too much.

“Hey, you got that down pretty quick,” Raj remarks. “Did you like it?”

“...I'm going to be tasting that in my burps all day.”

“Absolutely!”

At that moment, the door swings open, and Lila enters, looking bright-eyed and flawless.

“Good morning, everyone! I hope you're all enjoying your lovely breakfast in our five-star restaurant. But I might've found out what happened to all the guests.” She pauses to let us react, but we're all waiting for her to continue.

“...Well?” Jake prompts. “Spit it out, Dimples.”

“Well, I went into the staff office to look for information. One of the computers in there, the one used for island-wide broadcasts, was still running. It turns out exactly two days ago, at 3:45 PM, someone used the emergency broadcast system to trigger a full evacuation of the hotel.”

“An evacuation?”

“It's a standard procedure at all Rourke International resorts. In the event of a natural disaster, the guests vacate the premises and head to a secure shelter.”

“A natural disaster?” I snicker. “You mean like Raj's cooking?”

Craig laughs. “Ha! Buuuuuuuurn!”

Raj presses his fist to his chest. “Ouch, Alodia. Major ouch.”

Lila blinks. “Yes. Well...questionable cooking aside, the evacuation procedures here were designed specifically to handle only certain cases. A hurricane, a viral outbreak, or Mount Atropo finally erupting.”

“Yeah, well, I don't see any hurricanes, virus, or lava flows,” Jake says skeptically.

“So, why trigger the evacuation procedure?” Sean asks.

“False alarm, maybe,” Quinn suggests. “But in that case, why hasn't anyone come back?”

“Perhaps everyone is still at the shelter,” Estela says thoughtfully. “Lila, where is it?”

“I...don't entirely know. I've never actually been there. But the signs on the trail say we'll find it if we hike north for a few miles.”

“I'm in,” Jake says.

Lila blinks again. “I'm sorry?”

“You're going to go look for it, right? Well, I'm coming with you. The rest of these kids are having fun playing Home Alone 2: Island Boogaloo, but I was already supposed to be in Cancun. I'm losing cash every second I waste here.”

“I will come as well,” Aleister says. “I...I'd like to get the lay of the land around here.”

“I want to go too!” Quinn chimes in. “I'd love to help out and see some of the sights.”

“How about you, Princess? You coming?”

I start a little. “...Me?” Involuntarily, I think of the thing I saw in the shadows last night. “Well...I...”

Jake waves a hand. “Hey, don't worry about it. If you're scared, you're scared. Just stay back here with the rest of the Goof Troop.”

“Wait! I'm coming, too.”

“You are?” Diego raises an eyebrow at me. “Why?”

I shrug. “I want to see the island. This hotel is great, but there's so much more to see. I want to see the jungles and the ruins and the waterfalls.”

He smirks. “And the creepy bomb shelter that is almost certainly full of zombies?”

“Exactly!”

“Fine, fine. I'll go with you. But only so I can say 'I told you so' when something horrible attacks us.”

I grin and give him a thumbs up. “That's the spirit!”

“All right, then!” Lila claps her hands. “Let's head out!”

* * *

A short time later, four of us follow Lila down a winding path through the rainforest. Jake and Aleister lag behind. Quinn, looking angelic in a white blouse with a white bandana tied like a babushka over her copper hair, skips ahead a little ways to marvel at the flowers on the trees and bushes. The flowers glow with a soft, colorful light. When I first saw them, I thought they were lightbulbs, something draped over the foliage like Christmas lights. But the glow is coming from inside the petals themselves.

“Unbelievable,” Quinn breathes. “These colors, these textures...they're like something out of a dream.”

“I've never seen anything like it,” I agree.

“Beautiful, right?” Lila says. “Due to its geographic isolation, La Huerta has one of the most unique ecosystems on the planet, boasting flora and fauna not found anywhere else.”

“Sure thing, Minnie Mouse,” Jake grumbles. “Keep spewing that Rourke International propaganda. I ain't buying it.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Aleister snaps.

“I'm just saying. All the brochures go on about how this place is some sorta Disney paradise. But drink in the right dive bars, and you'll start to hear rumors about what really goes on here. Criminal plots, illegal experiments, folks going missing...all kinds of crazy.”

Quinn wrinkles her nose. “Conspiracy theories? Really?”

“Laugh it up, Pippi Longstocking. While you were busy tweeting about your pumpkin spice latte, I was flying covert missions over Kandahar. Once you've peeked behind that curtain...well, let's just say there's some things out there that would blow your mind. The pretty purple flowers you're ooh-ing and ahh-ing about? They might just be sizzling with radiation.”

“That is preposterous!” Aleister cries.

“What do you think, Princess? You trust this place?” I hesitate a moment, eyeing the flowers. Then I back away. Jake nods approvingly. “Knew I could count on you.”

Aleister rolls his eyes. “Tell me you don't believe his conspiracy theory prattle.”

“I don't know what I believe, but I say better safe than sorry. Unique ecosystem or not, flowers should not glow like that.”

“Well, I still think they're beautiful,” Quinn says with finality. “And I'm not going to let some conspiracy theory keep me from appreciating that.”

She plucks a flower and puts it to her nose, inhaling deeply. ...Oh, my God, she is adorable. Diego elbows me lightly.

“What's with that goofy smile?” he whispers.

“Oh, shut up, Diego,” I hiss back, feeling myself blush.

Ahead of us, Lila stops suddenly and looks around in confusion. “...This...doesn't make any sense.”

“What?”

“Well, the signpost said the shelter should be right here...”

“Oh, great!” Aleister groans. “Even the tour guide's lost. What do they pay you for, again?”

“Tactical scouting 101 kids,” Jake says. “Get to high ground. See that rocky cliff over there? I'm checking it out.”

“Oh!” Quinn exclaims. “Do you hear that? Sounds like a waterfall nearby. The shelter might be near that.”

“Or you just want to go check out the waterfall,” Diego quips.

“Or that,” she agrees sweetly.

“I really think we should stick to the trail,” Lila says. “The shelter might be further ahead.”

“We could split up,” I suggest. “Cover a little more ground.”

“I'll stick to the trail with Lila,” Diego says.

Aleister crosses his arms stubbornly. “Well, I am staying right here. I see no reason to traipse around on some fool's errand.”

“Well, y'all know where I'm headed,” Jake says. He looks at me. “You wanna keep me some company, Princess?”

“Uh...yeah. Sure.”

“Stay within shouting distance!” Lila calls as we split off.

Jake and I head off through the undergrowth towards the hilltop. Jake moves easily through the dense tangle of leaves and branches. He deftly hops a log and slides under a low-hanging branch.

“Impressive. You do this a lot?”

“Get stranded on mysterious islands with a group of plucky college kids? Gotta say, it's a first.”

“I meant, go hiking, walk through jungles, that kind of thing. You seem pretty confident in the outdoors.”

“I grew up in a Louisiana town so rural it wasn't even on the map. When it comes down to it, the swamp and the jungle ain't so different.”

“Probably not as many gators out here though.”

“Less gators, more jaguars. I'll call it even. How about you, Princess? This your kinda scene?”

“Actually, yeah. I mean, I admit I grew up in the SoCal suburbs, but I love the outdoors. The blue sky overhead...the fresh air...that soft sea breeze... I should probably be more freaked out. Especially after that...whatever...I saw last night. Being out here, like this, I don't know. I can't help but feel happy.”

Jake raises an eyebrow at me. “That why you came along with me? You felt like a nature hike?”

“Well, you invited me. And...I guess I felt safer following you than Lila.You're confident. You're capable. And you seem to know what you're doing here more than she does. Or any of us for that matter.” I pause. “...Come to think of it, why would you ask me to come along?”

He shrugs. “Because I can already tell you're going to be the horse to back here.”

“I...what?”

“You're smart. Maybe not book smart. At least, not as much as Draco Malfoy back there, or...what's her name with the glasses?”

“Grace.”

“Right. Grace. But you've got a good head on your shoulders. You're also braver than either Grace or Malfoy, and when it comes down to it, I would bet money you're the one everyone's going to look to when things go sideways.”

“You say that like you're expecting them to go sideways.”

“I am, Princess. I am.”

I can't tell if he means that, or if he's just being facetious “...Are you ever going to call me by my real name?”

“When you've earned it.”

“I think you've forgotten it.”

“Have not. I saw all your boarding passes in Costa Rica. ...It's Alodia Chandler, right? Or do you prefer Allie?”

“Alodia. Diego's the only one who gets to call me Allie. That's a right you have to earn.”

“...Are you and he...?”

“Me and Diego? Please. I've known him since we were in diapers. He's practically my brother. Besides...” I discreetly point towards my pubis. “I'm missing a piece he finds essential. ...Best friend I've ever had, though.”

“Thought so. Got that vibe from him.”

“Is it that obvious? I know he's not Sean Gayle, but he's not camp, either.”

“He's not lisping or limp-wristing. It's pretty subtle. And if you've known him all your lives it's probably harder for you to pick up on since it's all just your friend to you.” He pauses. “And I'd be surprised if Sean Gayle hasn't kissed at least a couple boys in his time.”

“You think he's bi?”

“I think he's attracted to personality more than what's between a person's legs. Call that what you will.”

“For a lone wolf type, you seem pretty confident in your ability to read people. Or maybe it's just your amazing gaydar.”

“Well, it is damn amazing. Of course, it's wasted on you.”

“What do you mean?”

He grins. “Come on. You're not exactly subtle. If we put Quinn and Sean in front of you and had them bend over, you wouldn't know which ass to stare at.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in. Then I laugh. “You're a brat, Top Gun! What about you, then? What's your pleasure?”

His smile slips. He looks away. “...Been a long time since I've shared my bed with anyone, man or woman.” He turns back to me with a wry grin. “Hard to get frisky in a hammock. ...But it don't much matter to me what a person's got in their pants. It's what's in their head that I'm picky about.”  

I am distracted from responding when we break through the branches and arrive at the foot of a sharp, jagged cliff face.

“If we can just get up that, we'll have a clear view,” he says. “How's your rock climbing?”

“Great. I mean...pretty good. Average?” I shrug apologetically. “I'm a gymnast, but I've really only done rock-climbing at the Y. But I never broke anything.”

“Good enough for me.”

He crouches down and gives me a boost, hoisting me up to a low ledge. Together, we carefully ascend the cliff face, grabbing handholds and sticking our toes in cracks to stabilize ourselves. Before too long, Jake crests the top. I'm just a few inches behind him when the rock I'm holding onto breaks off in my hand. I cry out, grabbing at the ledge, and hook my fingers on the edge. Jake grabs my arms and helps me up.

“Nice moves, Princess. Looks like you learned from the stairs on the control tower.”

“Still glad for the help.”

We take a moment to catch our breath, looking out over the island.

“...I gotta hand it to this place,” I say softly. “It never stops taking my breath away.”

“That's the radiation.”

I sigh. “You're a real glass-half-full kinda guy, aren't you?” I mutter.

“...I'm on an island owned by Rourke International. Don't trust that they haven't poisoned this place. In the military, I served near some of their mining operations. ...Massive machines that dwarfed skyscrapers. The kind that rob the earth blind and leave it barren.”

“...I gotta admit I didn't take you for an environmentalist.”

“I'm not. I just think you reap what you sow.”

“So...you believe in karma?”

“Doesn't matter what I believe. In my life, karma's made it pretty clear that it believes in me.” He pauses. “...Seriously, though...that is one hell of a sight...”

“No weird lights in the sky, either.”

“For now.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“...Hey...what's this?”

Jake kneels and brushes at some dirt. I see something glinting in the sun. I kneel beside him. Embedded into the stone is a square-shaped metallic plate with what looks like the head of a wolf embossed on it.

“What is that?”

“I dunno.” Jake frowns, staring at the plate. “There's no writing or anything. Looks like...some kinda wolf?”

“You think it's part of the resort? Like the corporation put it here?”

“Maybe...but why? If it's a warning that there are wolves in the area it's a pretty crap warning, given its location. And I don't know many species of wolves that live in the rainforest.”

I slide my phone out of my back pocket and snap a quick picture of the plate. As I tuck my phone back into my pocket, something catches my eye.

“Jake, look! Down by that river over there...the gray building? Sure looks a lot like...”

“A shelter! Hot damn! Good eyes, Princess!”

“Couldn't have got here without you.”

We smile at each other for a long, silent moment. Then Jake clears his throat.

“We, uh...should probably head back. Find the others and tell them where to go.”

“Yeah. We should. Definitely.”

Jake takes a step towards the edge, then looks back. “Gotta say...this was actually kind of fun. Maybe before I fly back, we can go on another climb together.”

“Sure. I'd like that.”

We regroup with the others and make our way to the shelter. The enormous concrete and cinder building is covered with creeping vines.

“Great job, Jake and Alodia!” Lila chirps. “You found it!”

“I wouldn't go popping the champagne just yet,” Diego says. “Anyone else getting some 28 Days Later vibes off this place?”

“It does look a little...dilapidated,” Quinn agrees. “How old is this place?”

“It's no older than the resort,” Lila says. “I will have to have a stern word with the caretakers!”

“Whole point of a shelter is keeping you safe inside, not looking good outside,” Jake points out with a shrug. “Come on.”

Lila pushes open the doors, revealing a long hallway that looks just as dilapidated as the outside. Vines snake along the floor, and broken fixtures overhead cough sparks.

“...Empty...”

Jake shudders. “On second thought, maybe Pop Culture Petey was right. This place gives me the creeps.”

“I finally get a nickname, and it's 'Pop Culture Petey'?” Diego mutters indignantly. “Everyone else got a cooler one!”

“Not everyone. I'm 'Princess', remember?”

“Anyone else want to go back to the pretty jungle with the magic flowers?” Quinn asks in a small voice. “Anyone?”

Jake kneels and trails his fingertips on the ground. “There's a lot of muddy shoeprints around. They seem recent.”

“You mean the guests were here?”

“Well...someone was.”

A skittering sound makes us all startle. Jake leaps to his feet.

“What was that?”

I look in the direction the sound seemed to come from. There is a gaping hole in the far wall where the concrete has crumbled. Vines and glowing flowers cover the edges like a wreath. ...Or dried blood on a wound, I think involuntarily.

I approach cautiously, the others gathering behind me. At the edge of the hole, I hesitate. Then I gather my courage and peer inside.

“...There's something in there.”

“What do you see?” Diego asks.

Something shifts in the darkness. Two spots of reflected light glint out of the shadows. A pair of eyes.

“There's something alive in there!”

“Certainly it's just a rat,” Aleister says most uncertainly. “...Right?”

There's a strange clicking sound that comes from inside the hole, separate from the sound of claws scraping on stone that accompanies it.

“That's no rat,” Jake murmurs.

“Allie, is that the...thing you saw last night?”

“...It's...” I'm cut off by my own cry as the shape rushes towards me, its shadow huge on the wall, and pounces into the light. We all whirl towards it, and stop.

A creature about the size and shape of a fox, with violet eyes and ice-blue fur, sits on its haunches in front of us and cocks its head.

“Mrrlk?” it trills curiously.

“...What the...?”

“Oh...my...God!” Quinn squeals.

“What...is it?” Aleister asks.

“Uh, literally the cutest thing I've ever seen!” Quinn answers, practically beaming.

“Okay, can we all officially agree this is not a real animal?” Jake says.

As if understanding, the fox-thing trills sadly, its tail and ears drooping. It backs away from us into a corner, trembling. Frost clings to the walls behind him.

“Huh...it looks scared.”

“But what would it be scared of?” I ask. “Us?”

Any reply I might have gotten is cut off by a deep growl from directly behind me. My veins turn to ice. I turn slowly.

An enormous feliform beast is prowling towards us from the shadows, muscles rippling under skin and golden-brown fur. Massive cuspids, each at least the length of my hand from fingertips to wrist, descend from its upper jaw. My heart drops into my stomach. I know in an instant that I'm looking at the creature I saw last night.

“That!” Aleister cries. “That! It's scared of that!”

“You think?!” Lila shrieks.

The fox creature scurries behind me, curling against my ankles.

“Jake!” I cry. “What do we do?!”

Jake looks at me. For the first time, he looks scared. He grabs my hand and holds it tight.

“Don't. Move.”

#Endless Summer #play choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry choices #Diego Ricardo Ortiz Soto #jake mckenzie #sean gayle #quinn kelly #estela montoya #raj bhandarkar #craig hsiao #zahra namazi #michelle nguyen #aleister rourke #grace hall

[mustdang-100]

Shifting Perspectives - Ch. 5

Reigen works through some issues.

Summary: 

How many espers does it take to rescue one abducted conman?

Months after the events of the World Domination arc, Reigen disappears sometime between leaving the office and after-work plans. Serizawa finds himself the unwilling leader of a bunch of former Claw members and a couple of stubborn teenagers, determined to get Reigen back.

Read on AO3 Ch.1|Ch.2|Ch.3|Ch.4|Ch.5 Tumblr Ch.1|Ch.2|Ch.3|Ch.4|Ch.5 - below|Ch.6

“Nice place you have here.”

Teru glanced up at Shou, who had thrown himself across Teru’s neatly-made bed now lay leisurely on his back, legs crossed, foot dangling. Teru tried not to be irritated.

“Thanks,” he said shortly, then returned to folding a spare shirt, tucking it neatly into his shoulder bag.

Teru stood to survey his apartment, gaze sweeping the spotless floor and shelves of books and knick-knacks, contemplating what else he might need during a covert spy-slash-rescue mission of unknown duration. Binoculars, maybe? He tried to remember where he’d put his pair – somewhere safe, he was absolutely certain. He remembered the feeling of satisfaction as he tucked them somewhere that was definitely, positively safe. Now if he could only remember where that safe spot was…

“Do you really think we’re gonna need all that?” Shou interrupted his thoughts just as he reached up a hand to search the top shelf of his closet. “This all kinda seems like overkill. It would have been simpler to just wait around and then follow Serizawa and his merry band straight to Hatori.”

Teru glanced back over his shoulder. “Now is when we know exactly where they’re going next, so it might be the only time we could leave without risking losing them. Of course, all of them together throw off so much power that I could find them anywhere in the city with a small amount of effort, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious. And they might leave the city, and then where would we be. Unless you can sense auras from further away than a couple dozen kilometers?”

Shou made a huffing sound, but pillowed the back of head on his arms and didn’t protest further. Teru had thought not, considering that he could only sense other espers within a radius much smaller than the entire city, but he’d wanted to be sure.

However, the question brought back some of Teru’s earlier curiosity; he turned back to fully face Shou.

“You don’t have to stick around, you know. I’d be fine following them on my own. And you don’t even really know Reigen. There’s no need for you to help if you don’t want to.”

Shou sat up on his elbows and looked back at him, face solemn, light eyes steady and piercing. Teru blinked, a little unnerved; he decidedly did not like being the subject of that too-intense gaze. It made him feel like Shou could see straight through him.

But then Shou grinned cheerfully, erasing the serious persona as though it had never existed. “I’m bored. And this seems like it’ll be fun.”

Teru eyed him for a moment, dubious – he recognized the kinds of smiles people wore as masks. But then he shrugged and turned to reach back into his closet, trying not to care. Shou did a lot of things that he didn’t really understand.

Truthfully, part of him had hoped Shou would leave. They didn’t know each other that well, and Teru preferred working with people he had more of a handle on. He knew very little about Shou: he was an esper. His asshole father was an egomaniac with too much power, and was now incarcerated somewhere. He had befriended Ritsu, something Teru hadn’t known was possible. And as of the confrontation today, Teru knew that Shou knew Serizawa quite well; the undercurrent of tension between the two of them had strummed in the air like a guitar string, adding undertones to Serizawa’s apology that Teru did not understand.

Teru’s own relationship with Shou had started off rocky, given that it had commenced with the small, red-haired stranger carrying the unconscious bodies of the Kageyama brothers into a room where he himself was already restrained and groggily coming-to.

Yet Teru’s initial, rather violent, disposition towards Shou had been confounded by his defending them not even hours later. Shou had appeared out of nowhere, crushed their opposition right when events had taken a turn for the worst, and then disappeared into the night. You had to admire that kind of power, Teru had admitted grudgingly to himself. And not to mention, that presentation.

They hadn’t seen much of each other during Claw’s push for world domination, but they had been solidly on the same side that time, at least. In the months that followed Shou would disappear for weeks, and then Ritsu would show up with Shou suddenly in tow, both of them acting like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Teru took his cue from Shigeo, who always took Shou’s appearances in stride. But he and Shou had never interacted without the Kageyamas present, and the lack of that buffer now made Teru wary.

The hand searching the top shelf found the smooth, cool shape of the large shoebox he’d been looking for. He pulled it down and lifted the lid. A floppy outdoors hat rested on top; he half grinned as he set it aside. Underneath were a magnifying glass, sunscreen, a field guide on Japanese insects… aha! He removed the binoculars and added them to his bags.

“You're taking forever, and I’m starving,” Shou groaned. He jumped off the bed and headed for the kitchen area. Teru heard the fridge door open and a pop from a Tupperware lid, and spun to glare at the intruder.

“Why don’t you go back to your place to get your own food. And your own supplies, for that matter. We don’t know when we’ll get another chance to get more.”

“I have cash,” Shou said indistinctly, mouth already full of whatever he’d grabbed. He swallowed. “I’ll just grab what I need on the way. If we ever get around to actually leaving.”

Teru raised an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t you want to go back to your place?”

Shou paused in taking another large spoonful to glare at him. Teru couldn’t resist prying further.

“Do you even actually live around here? Like, did your dad have a place here, in the city he tried to destroy?”

Shou’s body had gone a little tense.

“Don’t worry about it.” He put down the food and gave Teru a smile that could have cut glass. “Why do you live alone?”

Teru crossed his arms across his chest, an automatic gesture. Then, slowly, he gave Shou a crooked smile back, shifting his weight onto one hip.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied coolly, in turn.

Message received. No personal talk. No family talk.

That’s okay, that was just the way he liked it.

Teru grabbed an older, empty bag from under his bed and tossed it at Shou, who caught it automatically with one hand. Shou held it away from himself, eyeing the bag like it was going to bite him.

Teru hefted his own bag onto his shoulders. “You can borrow that. We’ll stop somewhere on the way if we need anything else. And we’ll get some real food so you can stop eating my leftovers.”

Shou hesitated a second more, then nodded, relaxing as he rolled his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Let’s go already, before we lose them.”

***

Reigen wasn’t left alone in the interrogation room for long.

A muscular man with short brown hair threw the door open and, without a word, hauled Reigen up from the glass-covered floor. He gestured for Reigen to follow, and led him down a series of nondescript off-white hallways and staircases. A cloud of invisible pressure brushed at Reigen’s arms and torso, taking some of the weight off his shaking legs but enforcing the unmistakable threat of restraint should he try and run. Reigen barely registered surprise at the appearance of psychic power, and accepted the support unthinkingly. It wasn’t like he’d be running off anywhere just then anyway, and frankly he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay upright without that aid.

It occurred to him, as they paced through hall after hall, that he ought to try keeping track of the layout of the place; where he’d come from, and where he was going. Laying the groundwork for the devious escape plan he was certain he’d formulate any moment now, just in case he needed one. But the notion just made him feel tired, and it slid away almost as soon as it appeared, too slippery for his mind to keep hold of.

He almost ran right into the esper he was following when he finally stopped before one of the dozen-odd identical gray-painted doors that lined the current hallway. The esper opened the door, prodded Reigen inside, and shut it again behind him. A locking mechanism clicked with a sound of finality.

Reigen gazed blearily around at what was clearly a jail cell, furnished with a single bunk flush against a concrete block wall, a small desk and chair, and not much else. That they had set up a place to stash him did not bode well for his hopes that, now that they knew he wasn’t psychic, they might just… let him go.

There was a tray on the desk, with food he didn’t bother to identify. Reigen knew he should eat – who knew the last time he’d eaten anything, he really should be hungry – but the last remnant of shock from his interrogation was draining away, and sweeping all that remained of his energy along with it. It left behind a fuzzy numbness that settled over his mind like a fog, smothering any interest in food. His stomach churned nauseously at the very thought of eating.

Eh. The tray would still be there later.

He slumped onto the bunk’s thin pad and stared at the flat gray wall.

Well. He was alive. And as far as he could tell, unharmed, other than a few bumps, bruises, and shallow slashes. He supposed that was probably a good thing. But, as the weight of the misery settling onto his shoulders reminded him, that did not mean he’d come out ahead in that encounter, not by any stretch of the imagination.

Reigen buried his face in his hands.

He’d gotten in over his head. Again.

He’d never intended to be drawn into the world of espers, back when he’d first started Spirits & Such, despite his grandiose claims of otherworldly powers. He used to be so good at taking on only those troubles he knew he could solve, whether through a quickly-mastered skill or an assertive, soothing lie – and usually, some combination of the two. If other people – the firefighters, the search-and-rescuers – chose to try combatting the world’s greater ills, good for them. He applauded their efforts. But he was perfectly content to make his living by easing the small, everyday problems of the people who walked through his door, whether they were the problems they thought they had or not.

They walked in with a problem. Reigen provided them with a solution. They left. The cycle repeated.

Except sometimes… sometimes the person who walked through his door was a ten-year-old boy searching for reassurance of his own morality, even humanity, just because he could do something that others couldn’t.

Sometimes the person who walked through his door was a fourteen-year-old kid who’d been told he was an adult so convincingly and often that even he believed he was entirely self-sufficient. That is, until his own loneliness drove him to swallow his pride and go looking for help.

Sometimes the person who walked through his door did so admittedly because Reigen led him through it, because that person was an adult with a new chance at life, and because Reigen had seen potential in him that must be allowed to blossom and thrive.

Espers were people first, and despite the occasionally paranormal packaging, the cores of their problems were the same ones any person might have: ones that dealt with loneliness, or human morality, or living day to day life. Problems Reigen could undertake with confidence, or at least the appearance of it.

No, the trouble had come when new problems followed the espers in his care, problems larger than he could handle, dealing with powers well out of his league.

At that point, Reigen’s options were to either turn away from the people he cared for, the ones who stayed, whose problems he had already decided to make his own. Or, he could continue to help them in any way he could, regardless of his personal safety.

It was no kind of decision at all.

It was the Claw’s attack on the city that violently alerted Reigen to the fact that he’d ignored all the warning signs, and finally dived into events too far out of his depth. His futile struggle to protect Mob at the top of the tower had almost gotten himself killed, and ultimately had done nothing to prevent the weight of an entire city’s safety from being pressed onto the shoulders of a fourteen-year-old child.

Watching the immense shadow bursting from the rubble in the last place he’d seen the kid, his kid, was the first time Reigen really, truly thought he’d lost Mob. And there had been nothing, nothing he could do to help him.

But Mob had survived. And Mob was his own person, allowed to set his own path and make his own mistakes. But that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve help.

Next time, Reigen had told himself. Next time, I’ll be there.

Except the next time had been the day the broccoli disappeared…

Reigen winced, pulling his head up and rubbing at his forehead, as though he could force back the dull pain that suddenly bloomed deep behind his eyes. It always made his head hurt to think about that day too hard, which in and of itself made him uneasy. His memories of the day were so fuzzy…

But what he did remember, was that he and Mob had set out to take care of the broccoli and the esper responsible for its hold, and that it had indeed been taken care of. But not by him. Once again, Mob had set out to accomplish a task, and once again, he must have done so, without any help.

Reigen had been worse than useless – he couldn’t even remember how it had happened.

And now…

He hadn’t been able to fool the division into believing he was the psychic responsible for the phenomena that had threatened the city. Which meant they would keep looking for the one who had.

And in that, he’d failed Mob again.

Reigen returned his gaze to the wall, as though hoping answers for what to do next might begin scrawling themselves into the concrete blocks.

He didn’t know how long they planned to keep him here, but they hadn’t gotten an identity for the esper they were looking for yet. That meant there had to be hope, that there was still something he could do, if he could get out in time…

This pep talk did nothing to lessen the numb sense of dread that was deadening his limbs, trapping them in an invisible miasma. Another conclusion was staring him in the face, taunting him, inescapable:

No one was coming to help him.

He’d never been more aware of just how few people he regularly interacted with. He didn’t talk to the members of his family often; the most frequent was his mother, and even her he only talked to once every few weeks. It would take her a long time to realize anything was wrong.

He hadn’t talked to Mob in over a week. Mob stopped by the office with increasing rarity, especially since the summer break had begun; he wasn’t scheduled to come in to the office until next Thursday. In fact, Reigen was more likely to see Teru come in his door than Mob, of late - but that was without notice, without schedule – without obligation. If Teru stopped by to find the lights off and door locked, he would probably just think the office was closed for the day.  

Reigen wondered, for the thousandth time, where Dimple could be. He hadn’t seen the spirit in months. He’d felt almost foolish, when he’d finally given in and casually asked Mob when he’d last seen Dimple, a few days after Reigen had noticed his absence. Mob’s face had gone blank, completely blank, to the extent that not even Reigen could tell what emotion he was fighting against. Reigen had backed off quickly, distracting his student with something work-related, but he feared the worst. Reigen had not asked again.

And Serizawa…

It seemed so stupid, so comparatively trivial, his dismay over missing the chance to spend time with Serizawa – outside of work, with no justification for the invitation but that Serizawa enjoyed his company. And that smile when he’d agreed to join him…

But now, Reigen was sure Serizawa thought he’d decided to blow him off.  

He wondered what Serizawa had done when he hadn’t shown up at work. He wondered if he’d tried tracking him down, or just gone about the day as usual. He knew at some point Serizawa would realize something really was wrong, but what could he possibly do? There was no way for him to find Reigen, no way for him to even know he’d been taken, and not just up and disappeared.

And if Reigen never showed up again?

Serizawa was set up for success. He’d already been making preparations to go on and do something else in his life, something more, causing Reigen to bite his tongue all the tighter every time he thought about suggesting making Spirits & Such officially an equal partnership… But no. Reigen had accomplished his task, and Serizawa would be fine. He would finish his schooling, and move on to a new place of work.

Reigen’s despair swelled, swamping his mind, drowning him in hopelessness.

He wondered, idly, how long he’d been staring at the wall.

He decided it probably didn’t matter.

***

An uncertain amount of time later – it had to be hours, surely it hadn’t been days – the sound of the door opening stirred Reigen from his apathy. He sat up, blinking; at some point he’d moved to a horizontal position, falling in and out of a restless sleep.

Nagata entered the room with confidence, as though Reigen had never seen him press himself quivering with fear against a wall. Two people followed: the esper who had brought him here, and –

Reigen did a double take. The other was the dark-haired woman who had been driving the car and asked him for directions the night he was taken. She showed him no sign of recognition, and looked far less friendly now; hair pulled back in a tight, functional ponytail and dressed in the same black fatigues as the ice esper and the man beside her. The two sported similar expressions of boredom, yet somehow both managed to emanate an impression of “badass” into the room. They assumed positions of alert distance on either side of the door. Reigen would have bet his freedom that the woman was an esper as well. Fantastic.

Nagata sat at the small desk and propped his elbows on the surface, gazing at Reigen over his crossed fingers, not a hair out of place. His carefully-schooled expression sat somewhere between disappointment and concern, as though he was a teacher who wanted to guide a wayward student into making the best choices for their future.

Reigen barely refrained from asking how often the slimeball had practiced that expression in the mirror.

Reigen crossed his legs on the bed and leaned back on his arms. He was still in the same clothes he’d been abducted in, and now that adrenaline was pushing against the haze of lethargy, he felt greasy and disgusting, and smelled more than a little ripe.

He was tired, tired of being trapped, tired of feeling useless, and tired of this man and his power games. He raised an eyebrow, and went on the attack.

“So. Have you cleaned up the mess your esper made of the interrogation room yet?”

Nagata instantly lost the concerned mask, face flashing through fear and anger before settling into an annoyed scowl.

And… something snagged in Reigen’s brain there, in that response. The con-artist in him sat up and concentrated. He prodded Nagata again, curious.

“For someone so concerned about powerfully destructive espers, I’m kinda surprised you have one on staff. I mean, she doesn’t really seem that respectful of government property. And please know that, yes, that does include you.”

Nagata’s eye twitched as his glare deepened; Reigen was certain he was going to start yelling. But then he took a deep breath, and pulled the calm, concerned mask back over his features, so completely and decisively that it was unnerving.

“Sonata and her employees are… outside consultants, contracted for their very specific expertise in… combat. They are not government employees, and thus are still learning what is and is not necessary and permitted.”

Reigen read between the lines to what Nagata left unsaid. He’d learned there were espers working as mercenaries just this past year; that there were entire organizations of them available for anyone to hire was not so surprising. He had not expected that mercenaries could be hired by their own government, though. It seemed to him that it exposed a level of ruthless desperation that Nagata didn’t seem to realize.

Reigen caught movement in his peripheral vision, behind the agent’s back. The two espers by the door had both turned to look at Nagata, faces mostly blank but somehow still giving the impression of scorn. When they noticed Reigen’s attention, however, they turned back and resumed looking at nothing in particular.

Reigen guessed they must be among the ice esper’s – Sonata’s – people, and did not appreciate being talked about as though they were naughty children who hadn’t learned proper manners yet.

Nagata turned to follow Reigen’s line of sight to the two esper guards. He paused for a moment, as if considering, then turned his back to them.

“I need to speak with Mr. Reigen alone for a moment. Please wait outside the door; I’ll alert you should you be needed.” He waved a hand, dismissive.

The two stepped outside. Nagata waited until he heard the door close, and then visibly relaxed. Reigen, watching the entire display with interest, wondered how much of Nagata’s behavior was an act.

“I understand you concerns about Sonata, and I apologize for the treatment you experienced at her hands,” Nagata said smoothly. “I, of course, intended no such thing to happen. And I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about our department – I assure you that our own esper agents know how to behave themselves.”

Reigen rapidly decided he didn’t like that tone any better than the esper guards had. But Nagata leaned in, conspiratorially.

“But of course, we must always remain vigilant even around our own employees, mustn’t we, when they have that kind of power at their fingertips.” He smiled, expression too understanding, inviting Reigen to join him in noble victimhood.

“Mr. Reigen, I know the company you keep, and the feats you have witnessed. You know these… people can’t always control themselves, and their powers.”

There was the barest hesitation before the word ‘people.’ Something cold and hard clenched in Reigen’s chest at the implications of that deliberate hesitation, the insinuation that people with psychic powers were somehow inhuman, violent animals who lashed out indiscriminately.

“They require rules: guidance that we at the Paranormal Monitoring Division are happy and eager to supply…”

Espers must be controlled and subdued if necessary.

“…in order for them to persist in our society peacefully.”

They are not like us. They are other, and must be treated as such.

Reigen thought of Mob, who’d fought for so long and so hard to control his powers, and longed for nothing more than to be ‘normal.’ He thought of Teruki, who once set upon the right path, struggled to do good, to learn and keep from making the same mistakes again.

He thought of Serizawa, who, instead of inflicting his uncontrolled powers onto innocent bystanders, forced himself into isolation for over a decade.

Reigen had to fight hard against his immediate inclination to try punching the superior self-righteousness right out of Nagata.

“I know you might not like it, but it really is in everyone’s best interest, in our country’s best interest, for you to tell us anything you know about the esper responsible for the appearance and disappearance of the Divine Tree. Or, anything else you feel might be relevant?”

Deeper down, below the bright and immediate anger, the government agent’s words terrified Reigen. Reigen had been good in school, especially in classes that explored society or human behavior. He’d also particularly enjoyed baiting his history teachers, and read outside material just to demonstrate how incorrect the outdated and biased textbooks were.

He knew his history well. And history contained far too many examples of what those in power did to any group of people they fear.

He needed to learn more. He needed to know if this kind of prejudice was indicative of the government as a whole. But more than that, he needed to warn his espers of a possible danger.

The cogs of his brain began to whir again, pushing back against the sucking pull of apathy as the con artist in him smiled in grim satisfaction. Despite its chilling implications, the way Nagata talked about people with psychic power – up to and including the people he worked with – provided the gift of opportunity.

Reigen looked down, forcing his features into an expression of uncertainty, of wavering conviction. He looked back up at Nagata and opened his mouth slightly, as though he was going to say something, and then closed it, looking away again.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the agent smile in satisfaction.

“I understand this might be difficult for you. You don’t want to betray your… associates? But I think you know what the right thing to do here is.”

Nagata stood, brushing creases out of his clothes.

“I’ll give you some space, and more time to think it over. Let me make sure you get a change of clothes, and something else to eat, and I’ll be back to see if there’s anything more you’d like to discuss.”

As soon as the door closed behind Nagata, Reigen let his face relax. He got up and sniffed at the tray still sitting on the desk. He shrugged mentally, and began eating with one hand, tapping his leg absently with the other as his mind chugged back to work, weaving ideas into the beginnings of a plan.

If he was going to attempt a daring escape, he might as well do it on a full stomach.

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mp100 fanfiction #serirei #shifting perspectives #my fics #IT IS FINALLY DONE

[sending-the-message]

Charity or Ransom? “Just $5.00 a day can save a hungry child in need.” by xSammy13x

“Just $5.00 a day can save a hungry child in need.”

The commercial informed those in the sub shop. No one paid it any attention, continuing with their meals. Malnourished children flashed across the screen, looking sad and desperate.

“P-Please…donate today.” One of the children said staring with dead eyes into the camera; voice cracked, and weak.

It’s the ice cream truck music playing from a hidden source that signals them. It was the secret warning of the day. Get inside. Now. Don’t stop for anything. Don’t stop for anyone. Run. Hide. Wait for the next signal.

I snatch my brother by the arm, just as he is reaching out for me. He’s three years my junior. Three long years he would have to deal with this fear without me; though, if I had my say, I would share it with him and my parents always.

We rush full speed back to the house. We don’t stop for those who were not in on the hidden message. The poor sods who continued to swing on their swings, or playing in the sprinklers on their lawns. It was sad at first, and there was still a twinge of guilt there as they went about their day, but as long as it wasn’t them, then I could be okay…

The black truck first went down Winslow Drive. It stopped, to shrills and pleas of no, as they snatched up young Selena Miller, and her cousin April.

My brother and I stumbled into the old, repurposed bomb shelter in our backyard. It was built close to our oak tree, and was often covered as innocently as possible in leaves, toys, and other rubbish. The top of the shelter looked like a sprinkler head in the ground. If you pulled that up, it lifted a piece of grass, where the trap door was that lead inside.

It had been built by my grandfather. He wasn’t exactly a prepper, per se, but he was certainly always prepared for the worst whether it be a storm, or…

The other vans and trucks started coming then. Twenty in total. They were flying down streets, causing people to grab their children and make a run for it. Those without kids, or just old enough themselves to no longer be victims could only watch. Those just old enough not to worry, still violently flinched as the men and women jumping out of the vans in their grey jumpsuits passed them, or found themselves instinctively running away.

Others, they just stood there with a numbness to it all. Why fear something you have no reason to fear? They never had a reason to be scared of these people, and if they never had children, they never would. And then, was the last group. The sickening grins plastered to their faces as they watched the events unfold. Their numbers were the smallest, but they were growing every day. To them, this was a sport. Sometimes, you could see them making bets on who would be taken today.

“J-Just read a book or something. Play one of your games. Should hear something soon.” I tell my brother, as make it down into the shelter.

God bless my grandfather. It wasn’t what you pictured when you first heard the words: bomb shelter. It was more of a proper underground one story house. If my father had anything to say about it, in the next few years, it would be two. He just had to be slow and subtle about it. Couldn’t draw any attention to what he was doing until we were old enough.

“I think I know the routine by now.” My brother sasses me, and I don’t mind. It feels normal, you know? No fear.

“Three more years of this shit.” I tell him, shaking my head, and throwing myself on to couch as he sets himself up in the chair, and turns on his spare Xbox 360. His newer Xbox One safely setup in his bedroom.

“Six months, for you.”

“No.” I shake my head, and turn to look him in the eyes. “Three more years.”

“No! No! Please! Not my only son! Please!” Mrs. Spencer was screaming, reaching out frantically for her son, arms wailing helplessly in the air. Her husband was holding her back, as a woman in a jumpsuit carried off her two-month-old she had just taken from the woman’s stroller. “I’ll pay! I’ll pay up! Please! Please!”

“Now, now, Mrs. Spencer. You know we can’t trust you not to default on your liens again.” The woman holding her infant informed her.

“Not my boy! Please! You already got my three girls, plea-”

“Mother.” Another woman appeared then, stepping down out of the back of the van, causing her to gasp, and for Mr. Spencer’s grasp on her to tighten in surprise. “Be. Quiet.”

“Katlynn!” Relief washed over her as she said this. She had only seen her in commercials, briefly, in the background, for the passed seven years. She barely recognized her. So much taller. Leaner. Blonde hair cropped short from the long, flowing curls she once kept it in.

“He is coming with us, mother.”

“Wha- no! Katie, no!” She pleaded, breaking free from her husband, and running to her eighteen-year-old daughter. “You c-can’t! You know how they-”

“Please. If you cared so much about any of us, you would’ve paid.”

“There were three of you taken! We couldn’t afford to get you all o-”

There was a loud crack in the air as Mrs. Spencer was smacked so hard by her daughter, she fell back to the ground at her husband’s feet clutching her bright red, and bleeding cheek.

Katlynn surveyed the front lawn. It had been so long since she had seen it. She almost expected it to be exactly the same. Almost. What she didn’t expect was the brand new car in the drive way, or the above ground pool she could make out sticking up slightly above the back fence.

“Do you remember when I was first taken, mother?”

“W-What?” Mrs. Spencer was holding her bleeding cheek. “Of course I do!”

“When I was first taken, it was only $3 a day. Remember? I do. I had been saving my allowance in secret for years before Amanda and Emma were taken. I had almost $60 dollars saved. I wanted to buy myself that ridiculous Barbie playset at first, and then it was some horse stable thing…it doesn’t matter, really…the point was, after they were taken, I knew I had at least a month’s worth of money saved to keep me safe, and do you remember what you said?”

Mrs. Spencer remained silent, and Mr. Spencer took a small step backwards away from her, causing her to look back at him with wide, terrified eyes over her shoulder.

“When they came for me, just like this…I stood up on those very front steps right there, and pulled the money out of my pocket- I never went anywhere without it, you see. Scared shitless. I’d seen the commercials. I knew if I had some money, they’d leave me alone…and you said- oh, I’ll never forget it, you said- ‘thank you, dear. I’ll put this away with the money we’re saving up for your sisters.’ I couldn’t believe it. I had twenty days worth of money saved up, and you just…you pushed me towards them. ‘Go on now, honey. Tell your sisters we said, hello. Tell them to be good. Tell them, we’ll be seeing you all soon. For Christmas.’ Tell me, mother…which Christmas was that, exactly.”

She walked briskly up to her, placing her dark black work boot on her chest, forcing her into the ground. If anyone put up a fight, they were allowed to use lethal force, if necessary. As far as she was concerned, she was being far nicer to her pathetic excuse for a mother than she ever deserved.

“I remember it was only a dollar a day, when Amanda and Emma were taken…I really believed you were bringing us home. I was shocked you were sending me away, but I mean…a dollar a day, mother! A measly $365 a year, mother! Do you know what that means, mother? Less than ten grand…you could’ve had your twins back, for less than ten grand.” She stomped her steel toed boot down in her ribs, and the woman below her let out a scream of pain as something audibly cracked.

“Now, I knew that the price had changed, and to get me back in your life, would be the same price for what it would’ve cost to get them back…and you know what? If you had gotten them out, or even one of us…I could have forgiven you. I could have said to myself that you were trying. You were trying to find the money, and pay for us to come back…but you never did…and I had to watch…” Katlynn took a deep breath threw her nose, closed her eyes, and tried to collect herself. She failed. Her left cheek was twitching with a pent up rage she had known for years, but in only the last two months had been allowed to explore. “I had to watch them die, when you stopped paying even daily fees. Not you!” She brought her foot down on her mother’s chest again, but switched to her face when her sharp cries got to be too grating. “Just…just so you could have another kid?” She was laughing harshly, manically. A loud thud and sickening squishing sound were accenting every other word. Blood was spraying every which way now. “You…you fucking bitch! WHY COULDN’T YOU LEARN? WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE US?!” She kicked her in the face now, over, and over, and over, while her father and the others watched on…

“You don’t have to keep hiding with me once you’re too old to be hunted.”

I was almost nodding off as my brother spoke. I lifted my forearm up off my face, and cracked an eye open. “The fuck are you talking about? Of course I do.”

“Why?” He hadn’t even paused his game to look back at me. His eyes were fixed on the TV screen in front of him. “Once you hit eighteen, you’re too old. They don’t care anymore.”

“So?”

“So…what’s the point? Seems kinda stupid to spend a few hours a day hiding down here in a box.”

“Not a bad looking box, though. Like a first apartment. Even got fake windows, for Christ’s sake.”

It was true. Grandpa first had window panes with pictures of bright sunny skies in them, green grass, the whole nine yards…dad on the other hand took it a step further and replaced them with digital frames, and a new weather played out over the course of the day and tried to match up as best as it could with what was actually happening outside.

“I guess so…”

“You could take your first girlfriend down here. Maybe get laid.” I pause. “I should take a girl down here and get laid…or a guy. Honestly, just getting laid seems fun, at this point.” I laugh, and sit up on the couch, staring at the back of my brother’s head.

“You think I’ll ever get a girlfriend?” The question was genuine, which was upsetting to me. I had thought he may crack a joke about me being a lesbian, or just surprised I had admitted to him that I was a bit bi curious, but no. He was more interested in whether he would have the normalcy of something as a girlfriend.

“Of course. I’m sure there are plenty of girls, in plenty of bomb shelters for you to fool around with.”

He silently shook his head, but I could see the corners of his mouth pull into a small smile.

“Thanks.”

“Any time, nerd.”

“No, seriously…thank you…for…for saying you’ll keep coming down here with me.”

“…any time, Jay, any time…” I reach out and gently ruffle my brother’s ginger hair.

“Just $5.00 a day can save a hungry child in need…”

The commercial always played more when they were out getting kids. It was a reminder. Pay up, or this could be your child. It was someone’s child.

“P-Please…donate today.”

“THEY’RE IN THE PARKING LOT!” A man’s voice broke through the air, interrupting Mr. William’s 6th grade math class, causing a lot of screaming. It was summer, sure, but these kids were there practicing. Studying. If they got caught, they would need it. Some of them were going to need it now.

Several black vans opened up, and began making their way into the school, to the panic of the students inside. They were coming earlier and earlier every day, Mr. William’s sighed to himself, set down his dry erase marker, and sat dejectedly in his seat.

“J-Just…just remember your times tables. You’ll be alright. Ask…ask the older kids for help, if you need it. Some of you have siblings- cousins there…they can help.”

He had been taken himself as a child. He was only twenty three. He could have become a Snatcher. He couldn’t become a Snatcher. He decided to teach. To help.

“Please, I’m so hungry…” The child in the commercial informed the camera. “Mommy…Daddy…please…send money. Send help. Help me. Help me. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Mommy, please. Just two thousand more, and I can come home. Sell the house. Mommy.” Another child took over.

“Daddy, please. I know I’m okay, but the other kids…they need help. You gotta donate for them too, daddy.” A cleaner boy came onto the camera.

If he had been there long, it was hard to tell from just looking at him. Any signs he had been would have to be from the length of time he started showing up in commercials. The sickest and frailest were always the first to be shown, they were the reminders. The ones like him, they were there to show if you obeyed the rules, your child would be fine. He was fine…in terms of health, at least. Mentally, he wouldn’t be sure if anyone at the facility was fine.

It was dinner time. The children at the, Darwin’s School for a Better Tomorrow, were separating into their normal lines. They had their vouchers in hand, to trade for food. If their parents paid the full $5.00 a day fee, they had blue tickets. If their parents paid over, they got gold, and a number printed on it to show what they could spend. If they had red, their parents paid something, but not quiet the full amount. Children whose parents had paid nothing, or had no extra money remaining, got nothing. They were forced to sit and watch the others eat.

If someone wanted to share, it was a risk, but not absolutely forbidden. It was, however, questioned and scrutinized. Why feed the weak? What does sympathy get you? Your parents aren’t paying for them, they barely paid for you! Sometimes, it wasn’t worth listening to the berating. It could go on for hours. And so, children starved…

The only saving grace to those whose parents were too poor to pay for them daily, were those who accomplished high grades. If you were in the top ten in your classes, and needed to, you could trade grades for food. Classes were a harsh competition. So many little geniuses cramped into one place, all in the name of a better tomorrow…

“…can I get some of your chips? If…if you give me just one or two, and Billy gives me one or two grapes…”

“No.” The ten-year-old girl replied confidently. There was no way she was sharing. She had earned these chips. She had no family on the outside to sponsor her.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Give me some of your fucking chips.” The thirteen year old boy demanded, standing up in his seat now, to stare threatening down at his classmate. This was forbidden. Asking for food and sharing it was one thing, but violence and threats were another, and treated harshly.

“Mason! What have we told you about this?” The voice called through the room, causing the entire lunchroom to stop talking instantly. Everyone tensed up, and froze, only their eyes moving to see what was happening, if they dared watch at all.

“But- no! Please! I-I’m just so damn hungry! Please!”

Mason had been a portly boy when he was taken. He was slower than all his friends had been. He was now skin and bones, and was almost always a figure seen on the commercials begging for aid.

“We’ve warned you twice! Twice! You know the rules. No food. One week. Listen up!” Whether they were watching the scene unfold before, everyone in the room swiftly turned their heads in the direction of the Director. He was a hulking, burly balding man with glasses. “No one is to share food with Mason. If you do, you will share in his punishment, and be graded on a curve for the rest of the semester! Twenty points off! Understand me?”

Two points could cost you a meal. Hell, one could. Once, a girl missed dinner by half a point, for not properly showing her work in math. She died that week…

“No! No! This is bullshit! Bullshit!” Mason reached out, grabbing as much food as he could from the other plates, and throwing them into his mouth.

“Mason! Mason! You stop it this instant!” The Director shouted at him, and he signaled for some of the guards to go and get him. “Mason!”

“Fuck you, you balding fuck!” Mason replied, mouth full of anything he could get his hands on. “You can’t do this! You can’t do this! My family will hear about this!”

“If your family cared about you at all, they’d have paid for you. They want you to die in here, you disgusting, ignorant slob.” The Director hissed coldly as the guards dragged Mason out of the room. He was headed to detention. You didn’t want to head to detention. It was solitary confinement. A dark cell. No lights. No bed. There wasn’t even a toilet. You had to be taken there…if you were lucky. It was secretly called, damnation, amongst the students. “They wanted you to learn something in here! Become a useful member of society! What are you all staring at? EAT! Or no one eats!”

“You think…you think if we ever get taken, dad will have enough to get us out?”

“…yeah. Yeah, I would think so.” He spent enough on the shelter, which made me think he must have extra money squirrelled away. He always had told us he wouldn’t make us stay there.

“You think it’s as bad as the commercials make it look?”

“No…no, I mean…that’s…those kids gotta be dumb as shit. Or like…their parents gotta be super poor. You gotta figure, right now…a year is only $1825, right? You can bang that out easy, if you need to…take out a loan, or…or sell yourself. Something. Do that a few times, and the whole thing gets paid up. Hell, Mr. Hallworthy? He doesn’t even have kids, and he pays, too. So…so that money has to go somewhere. Has to help some of them in there.”

“I guess so…that makes sense.” My brother nods. “I think I’ll help them, too…when I’m old enough.”

“Me too, man…me, too.”

A dog barking through the intercom caught our attention. Our parents were home. That was the signal we could come out. Never anything that could be intercepted, telling us we could come out. They didn’t even want to draw attention to our hiding spot by having them come out to the yard and get us. We didn’t want to be caught.

“Finally. Save up. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I tell my brother, standing up off the couch and stretching in place.

There was another exit that lead into the basement of the house, but it was under the washer. It could only remain hidden if someone closed it over us. And it only opened from this side if we approved it.

It was a hell of a system. Exhausting. But it worked. And sure, sometimes the Snatchers only took one or two kids at a time. Not like today. No, the rules were simple:

1. You were always better in groups, and with someone you could outrun.

2. Know your surroundings. You were better off near a hiding spot.

3. You were better off if your parents saved money to pay the upfront fees to keep you from being taken.

4. Don’t. Get. Caught.

The Snatchers sometimes wouldn’t come for a week or more, but they always came, and we always hid…we were never caught.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

[allthesedetails]

09 November 19

Part 4  The creepy policeman 

I hope you’re sitting back in your chair and that you have some popcorn because this is the weirdest and creepiest conversation I’ve ever had with a policeman. I don’t know how the police are acting in other countries, but in Norway, they’re someone we can trust, someone that helps us when we need them, and someone you feel comfortable talking to. This policeman was none of the above. So I was sitting in this police office about to tell the policeman everything that happened in order to get a report for my insurance company. Everything went down in French, but I’ll translate it into English so that we don’t have to start using Google Translate again.

Policeman: So, Charlotte, where are you from? Me: Norway. P: Norway? What Norway? Me: I’m Norwegian. Like from Norway.

He looks at me confused and I’m sure he’s joking.

P: Ah, Norway. That’s not in Europe, right? Me: Well yes, it is, it is in the north of Europe, next to Sweden. P: No, you’re wrong. It goes Sweden, Denmark, Finland.

He points to the countries in front of him in the air, so they make up a perfect line next to each other. I’m starting to worry that he isn’t joking, after all, so I laugh kinda nervously at what I was hoping was an attempt of being funny, and he looks offended.

Me: No, it’s Norway on the west coast, then Sweden, then Finland, and Denmark is south of these countries. P: I don’t think so. Norway is in the United States, right? Me: No, it’s in Europe. P: It’s in Europe?! Me: Yes, in the north. P: Ah, so it’s cold there now, right? Me: Yes, we have snow now, and it’s dark all the time.

Btw, a thing you need to know about me is that I am the most sarcastic person ever, and I was struggling so hard not to offend this police officer with some snarky comment.

P: Snow? Wow, that’s different from here. And what do you mean “dark”? Me: Like there’s almost no daylight in the north of Norway now. We have like 2-3 hours of daylight back home. P: WHAT?! But that’s not possible, how do you survive? Me. Well, winter depression is a thing in Norway.

Can I just point out that we have been sitting here for like 10 minutes NOT talking about anything related to why I’m there? We kept talking about Norway for a while and then we went… well not back on track, because we never were on track, to begin with, so I guess we just went on track.

P: So, someone stole your wallet. (I’d told this to the lady at the reception). What did he look like? M: Well, he was a lot taller than me. He had curly brown hair on top of his head and the sides were shaved. He was wearing a black wafer jacket and beige pants. 3-day beard, brown eyes, kinda skinny. He spoke to me in Spanish, so I’m guessing he’s Spanish. P: I’m half Spanish. Me: Okay, I’m not blaming Spanish people in general. I’m just explaining that he spoke to me in Spanish. P: My mother is Spanish, and my father is French. And now we’re talking about his family for a while, and I am wondering if I will ever get out of there. At this time my friend has come back from the store, and her head appears in the door opening, and she’s like “Excuse me, can I come in?”

P: Well, no? Me: Oh, but that is my friend that can translate if something is unclear! P: Well, you don’t need her. Me (To my friend): Maybe you can wait outside, and if there’s a problem, I’ll come get you? Friend: Sure! Let me know if you need me! P: So, what is your number, Charlotte? Me: Actually, I’m always struggling to say the numbers in French, so I’ll write it to you, give me a sec. P: No, Charlotte, look me deep in the eyes and say your number.

And I’m like no, and I write the number on my phone and hold it out to him. He then continues by writing down the information in my passport, and then he studies my picture.

P: You look incredibly cute in this picture. Me: Well, that’s from 2014, so… P: That’s 5 years ago. Me: Yes, you’re right, that’s some fast math. P: … So! What was in your wallet? Me: Okay, so it was all my cards, my driver’s license, my… (I’m counting on my fingers while I’m reciting what was in my wallet, and he stops me and takes my hand by the wrist.) P: What is this? Me: (Looks confused down on where he’s stroking my wrist with his fingers). Well, that is my tattoo. P: Yes, I can see that, but what is it? Me: A key. P: Yes, but what significance does it have to you? What does it mean? (He’s still stroking my skin).  Me: That actually is a long story. P: Maybe you can tell me another time. Me: (Laughs nervously again) I don’t know how to answer that. P: But what is this? (He points to a point of my tattoo where the ink has bled) Me: Oh that was my first tattoo, and I didn’t know how it was supposed to look like, so it’s just a part of the tattoo now. P: Did you take it in Norway? Me: Yes, but I don’t think that matters.

And I hold out my hands like you do when you shrug, like ¯_(ツ)_/¯, and of course, he then sees the tattoo on my other wrist, and he takes that hand and rolls up my sleeve up to my elbow. This one has writing on it, and he asks what it means. I translate it into French for him, and he asked where I got that one.

Me: In Australia, I went backpacking there. P: Oh really? Alone? Me: No, with a friend. P: I bet you learned a lot. You learn a lot about yourself whilst traveling. We get a deeper meaning of life. (Of which I agree, but could we maybe talk about my thief now? Me: So is there anywhere I could go to get my stuff back. Like a lost and found or something?

Again, I knew that this existed, I just wanted to get back to business. The policeman looks at me, and then he says:

P: Do you speak English in Norway? (………… I mean???) Me: Yes, we learn it pretty early, but it is not our main language. We have our own language. Norwegian. P: Oh, really? How do you say “Hey” in Norwegian? Me: Hei. P: “Ei!” And how do you say bye? Me: Ha det. P: “Adé”. And thank you? Me: Takk. P: Toc. … So, you’re sure you’re in Europe. Me: Pretty sure, yes. But we’re not in the European Union if that’s what you mean? P: So, you are not in Europe! I knew it! Me: Well yes, we are, just not in the union. We have our own agreement with the European Union. 

He blinks slowly, maybe trying to figure out what I mean.

P: What else was in your wallet. Me: Okay so my cards… P: Yes, you already said that. Me: Uhm… My ID? P: Yes… Me: And 60€… P: Hah, see! Norway is in Europe! Me: Yes it is, but we don’t use Euros in Norway, we use the Norwegian krone (crown). P: Well then why did you have Euros. Me: Because I live in France now, and here you do use Euros. P: But Sweden uses Euros, so why don’t you? Me: But they don’t though. They also have their own money. P: So, they are not in the European Union. Me: Yes, they are, they just have their own money. P: Finland is using Euros. Me: (Super confused about this whole conversation). That I actually don’t remember, I think they might, yes. P: … What else was in your wallet. Me: My tram card, my fidelity cards, Mastercard, boat license… P: Boat license...? Me: Yes.  P: You drive boats? Me: Yes. Only one at the time though. P: Oh, Norway is the country with all the fjords! Me: That’s right, and the coastline. P: Do you fish? Me: Me personally or Norwegians in general? P: You personally. Me: Well not right now, but yes, I do know how to. Been doing it since I was a kid. P: What fish? Me: Uhm, I don’t know the name for all the fish in French. Salmon? P: Do you know all salmon are damaged because of these bacteria that live in all fish and that’s why we avoid them in France? Me: No, never heard of that, I’ve been eating it a lot and I’m fine. My family fishes a lot of salmon because they live on this island, and it’s all fine. P: On an island?! I love the savage life. Maybe you could take me one time. Me: …

He then starts talking about one time he went to a country in the north and it was snowing a lot and he saw the northern lights every day, so how did he not know about the darkness of the north?

P: Do you cook, Charlotte? Me: Yes? P: What do you like best about French culture? Me: Am I supposed to say the cooking? P: Yes! You know, I am a perfect chef! French men are really good at cooking, you know. Me: So I’ve heard.

He now takes up his lunchbox, and I’m like is he going to start eating his lunch now? Are we done, or are we going to keep talking during his break? He then picks up a piece of really dry chocolate cake from a plastic bag inside of his lunch box and holds it up in my face.

P: Here, have some cake! Me: Oh, no thank you. I’m really not hungry. (And I really don’t want to eat cake from your hands). P: Yes, it’s for you. I made it myself! (He takes my hand again and puts the cake in my palm).

I’m sitting there looking at the cake not sure what to do next. I really didn’t want to eat it, but I felt obliged to, now that it was in my hand, so I break off a little piece and puts it in my mouth. It grows in my mouth like a disgusting lump, and I swallow hard. It’s not that the cake wasn’t good, well it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t terrible. I just felt so uncomfortable. The policeman watches me eat a few more pieces before saying:

P: Do you know what’s in there? Me: No? (Unsettled). P: Have you ever heard about coconut sugar? Me: I don’t think so. P: You can eat it if you’re a diabetic too, cause it’s not normal sugar, you see.

And then… okay, this is like the weirdest part of this whole thing… then he bends down to his bag on the floor and picks up a little plastic box with a green lid. He opens it and holds it up to my nose.

P: This is coconut sugar, smell it. It smells weird, right? Me: (Trying to smell the sugar without it coming up my nose). I guess it does, but I don’t really remember how normal sugar smells like.

The policeman then bends down again and takes up another small container from his bag.

P: Here you go. This is normal sugar. Do you smell the difference?

Okay, so looking away from the fact that he gave me a piece of cake and made me smell his sugar… Why, WHY did he have all that sugar in his bag? Did he bake the cake down there? Is it only me that feels that it is super weird to make someone smell the ingredients of a cake you’re basically forcing onto someone?

P: Do you know what else is in there? “Poire” and nuts. Me: Okay P: How do you say “poire” in English. Me: Pear. (Getting more and more confused. We’ve been speaking French for this entire time, and this is the word he really wants to know in English?) P: Pear. Yes, that is my secret. (I have no finished the entire piece of cake). Delicious, right?

I nod. He looks down on my passport again, studying it.

P: So, Charlotte. Are you married? Me: No.  P: You’re Norwegian, but you’re not married? (He said this in a tone that implied that this was really uncommon, that he’d never heard about a Norwegian person that wasn’t married. I find this really bizarre, considering that about 30 minutes ago he didn’t even know what or where Norway was.)

At the beginning of this conversation, I’d been really prepared to tell him about the theft and the Spanish guy and all that, so I’d been leaning a little forward like I was invested in the conversation. Now I was sitting all the way back in my chair, with my head held up high and my back straight. The policeman looks me up and down and asks:

P: Do you do Yoga? Me: Yes. P: What kind of Yoga? You do a lot of stretching, don’t you? You have good posture. Do you go to Yoga here? Me: No, I haven’t signed up for anything yet. P: I do a lot of yoga. You can come with me if you want. Me: (Still trying not to be rude to the police.) The problem is I can’t sign up for anything seeing as all my cards are gone and all. 

I don’t remember exactly what we talked about here, but I got to say what was in my wallet, and a little more of what happened. When we’re starting to wrap it up, the policeman looks at me and points to my chest.

P: Why are you all red? Are you shy? Am I making you a little… nervous? 

My entire life, people have asked me if I’m part Asian because of my looks. I don’t know why, but people find it hard to believe that I’m all Norwegian. I used to care more about this before than now, and now it has become a joke amongst my friends that I’m part Asian. Now, when I get stressed my chest gets really flushed. This also applies to when I drink alcohol, which is commonly known as Alcohol flush or the Asian flush. So, when my chest reddens, I just say: 

Me: Oh no, it’s just the Asian flush. P: The what? Are you Asian? (Probably still trying to place Norway on the map in his head.) Me: (Getting really tired of having to explain stuff not related to my case). Yes, someone on my mother’s side is probably from China. P: Oh really. (Nods as if that makes sense.)

He then holds out his hand, as for me to shake it. I take his hand and shake it. He takes his hand away, turn mine with the palm down, and then he slaps it. He slaps my hand. As if to say: You’ve been a bad girl.

Me: …??? … Uhm? P: That is so you’ll be more careful next time. And don’t trust people. Behave. Me: Okay? Well am I done here now? P: Yes, you’re free to go. Goodbye, my little Norwegian girl. 

LITTLE NORWEGIAN GIRL???

I swear I’m not making this up. I don’t think I could if I wanted to. It’s not that any of these things were mean or anything. I just felt like he was being so unprofessional, and I felt super uncomfortable. And also, it would have been one thing if I’d come in there and told him what happened, and he’d been like “oh, I’m so sorry this happened to you. I actually baked some cake yesterday to bring to work, do you want some?” But the way he gave it to me, the way he touched my wrist and the way he talked to me and didn’t listen to what I was saying. It was all so uncomfortable and off-putting. I don’t know if I’ll ever go to the police here again.