#(because that's what my old phone did one time i didn't charge it when it was over 80% tho my phone was old & the battery was bad)

[dengswei]

i got a new phone and i'm trying so hard to not overcharge it (because that's defintiely what i did with all my older phones)

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 57 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets home in time to take care of you when you need him the most, and he's ready to push aside his own exhaustion to let Noah celebrate Halloween. Announcements and plans are made, including some that you're looking forward to a lot more than Bradley is.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, mentions of miscarriage, swearing, smutty blowjob, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Noah woke up on Halloween, he made his way into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as he went. Then he stopped short next to the table. "Daddy?"

Bradley spun around to see his son standing there in disbelief. "Hey, Bub," he said as a smile bloomed across his face. "I missed you." He knelt down, and Noah immediately trotted across the room and right into his open arms. "I made it back just in time to go trick-or-treating with you."

He kissed Noah's cheek and buried his nose in his son's soft curls, inhaling the scent of home. "We're all going to go," Noah said with conviction. "Even Skittles has a costume. And Aunt Natasha is going to get one, too. She promised."

"Then I guess it will be a party," Bradley told him, deciding now wasn't the best time to mention that you may rather spend the evening in bed. "Are you hungry?" he asked, standing up with his son in his arms, simply because he wasn't ready to stop holding him. "Do you want pancakes?"

Bradley knew it was bad when a four year old looked at you like he was convinced anything you tried to cook would be inedible. "Can Mommy make them?"

"Wow," Bradley said, trying not to laugh. He was pretty convinced five minutes ago that he'd be able to follow the directions on the box, but maybe not. "Do you really think Mommy is that much better at cooking than I am?"

"Yes. She is. Can she make the pancakes?"

Bradley laughed and kissed his cheek again. "How about I give it the old college try since Mommy is still sleeping, okay?" He held Noah while he measured out the water, but when it was time to crack an egg, he set him down at the table with a glass of milk and an activity book that you or Nat must have got for him. He looked at the egg, not quite trusting himself, and he cracked it into a bowl instead directly into the pancake mix. He ended up picking pieces of the shell out of the bowl, but once he started to stir everything together, it looked pretty damn good. 

"Okay," he muttered, wondering if you'd want to eat breakfast in bed if he managed to pull this off. He should order one of those tray tables for you to use. He dumped some of the batter into the hot pan and started to look online for a purple tray when he got a little distracted. 

"Daddy," Noah said, pointing to the stove as soon as Bradley smelled the pancake starting to burn.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, setting his finally fully charged phone aside. "It's okay, I'll eat this one," he promised, flipping it over with a spatula to reveal a blackened, smoking mess. Now he paid close attention to what he was doing, and the next ones turned out pretty well, but it was too late.

"What did you burn?" you asked from the doorway with a smile. When Bradley tossed the spatula aside and rushed to your side, you said, "For a minute there, I thought it was all a dream, and that you weren't really home yet at all. But then I smelled something burning and knew you must be."

He wrapped one arm around your waist, tilted your chin up with his fingers and kissed you, hoping to convey just how badly he had missed you. He didn't stop until Noah asked, "Mommy, can you make the pancakes?"

"Let's let Mommy rest," Bradley replied, stroking your neck with his fingertips. "Do you want me to bring a plate of food into the bedroom?" he asked you.

You shook your head and whispered, "I'm okay. I might take a nap later, but I'm fine, Daddy." Then you took his hand gently in yours and brought it to rest on your belly. "So is this little one."

"I wouldn't have blamed you," he blurted out, and you tucked your face against his chest. As your arms snaked around his waist, he said, "I would have been sad, but only because I'm so excited for the baby. But I wouldn't have blamed you or been upset with you, Princess."

You nodded and whispered, "I know. It was so scary though. And I don't think I could have gone much longer without you here."

"I'm home. And I'm cooking and doing everything. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Mommy, please," came Noah's exasperated voice. "The pancakes."

You started laughing against Bradley. "Do you want dinosaur pancakes?" you asked, and Noah gasped in delight. "I'll take that as a yes. Step aside, Daddy. Watch and learn."

But he didn't step aside. He stood behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder and told you over and over again how much he loved you while you prepared the most adorable breakfast he'd ever seen in his life. You cut up a pancake to look like a stegosaurus body and added spikes made out of sliced strawberries. You used part of a banana as the neck, and added chocolate chips as eyes. 

"Damn," Bradley said. "That's almost as cute as you are. Can I have one, too?" Then you cut up the burned pancake and made a much less cute looking dinosaur while he laughed the whole time. "Thanks. That's exactly how I wanted it."

"You're welcome," you told him with a smirk as you took some of the good pancakes for yourself. He guided you over to the table with all of the plates of breakfast, and Noah abandoned his book while he clapped his hands.

"Thank you, Mommy," he said as he shoved some strawberries into his mouth.

Then Bradley guided you down onto his lap and held you while you ate. "It's good to be home. When you're done eating, I want you to get back in bed and wait for me," he whispered, tracing your side gently with his fingers while he stuck his fork into his burnt dinosaur pancake.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said softly. "We can't do that. Not for a few more weeks. The doctors said my uterus has to thicken a bit more, and I-"

"Baby," Bradley said a little louder. "No. Don't apologize. I don't care about that. I want you to rest, but I also want to show you the books I bought in Tokyo."

You looked at him over your shoulder, and he kissed your cheek. "I want you to know that I did miss you that way, too."

"I missed you in every way imaginable, Princess."

-----------------------

Bradley ended up carefully carrying you to bed as you yawned, and he promised to clean up the kitchen and get things ready for Halloween.

"I want you to relax," he said for at least the tenth time as he dug around in his still unpacked duffle bag. "I'll take Noah out to buy some pumpkins in a little bit, and I'll leave you a sandwich in the fridge that you can eat when you want it. But in the meantime, look how cool these are."

He sat on the edge of the bed next to your thigh and handed you a stack of Japanese children's books. You smiled and looked at the covers. They ranged from some meant for a baby to ones that Noah would be interested in when he started school. "You were really thinking about your family the whole time, huh?"

"Every second I was gone," he promised, leaning down to kiss you. He would take care of everything, and Nat promised she'd come back later, and you really did almost feel like you could relax. But you still felt a little guilty even as he ran his lips and mustache along your cheek to your ear and whispered your name.

"You must be exhausted and jetlagged," you told him. "You're the one who should be resting."

He just shook his head, kissed you one more time and said, "I'll call Nat if I need her. Otherwise, I'm perfect because I'm with you. Rest."

Then he was gone, and you drifted off into the kind of beautiful sleep where you didn't have to worry about what time it was or when Noah needed to eat again. When you woke up after noon to a completely silent house, you ate your sandwich and then went right back to bed. Eventually Noah's laughter and the warm afternoon light that seemed impossible to sleep through had you out of bed again, but when you looked around the house, you didn't see anyone. The back door was open, and when you went into the kitchen, you saw Bradley and Noah carving pumpkins on the deck.

You walked outside in the random clothing you'd been sleeping in, and as soon as the sun hit your face, you didn't feel as exhausted anymore. "Mommy's up!" Noah cheered, jumping up to hug you with his slimy, orange hands. 

"Don't touch her until you wash your hands, Bub," Bradley called out with a grimace. "Too late."

"It's okay," you told him, kissing the top of Noah's head. "Are you happy Daddy made it home in time for Halloween?"

He looked up at you with a little crease along his brow. "I knew he would. That's why we bought him a costume."

"Speaking of which," Bradley said as he kissed your cheek without putting his messy hands on you, "it's almost time to get changed to go collect candy."

"And ride in the wagon!" Noah exclaimed.

"What wagon?" you asked.

"You'll see," Bradley replied with a little smirk. 

After a leisurely shower during which you didn't have to worry about anything except yourself, you dressed in your princess costume that you and Noah picked out from the Halloween warehouse and put on some makeup. Then you added your brand new crown, and you thought you looked pretty incredible. When you walked out to the living room and saw Noah dressed as a little prince, your heart melted. 

"Sweet Noah," you gushed as he held onto his treat bag, all ready to go. He was wearing his yellow paper crown that Bradley managed to procure from some unknown spot in the house, and he just looked precious. 

"I like your crown, Mommy," he said, pointing to the gold one you were wearing.

You smiled. "I like my purple paper crown better."

"Don't laugh." You turned to see Bradley standing behind you in his rather ill fitting knight costume. It kind of looked like he was wearing aluminum foil that was a size too small, but he had a smile on his face, and his costume crinkled when you hugged him. "Hey, Mav and Penny are planning to stop by to take some photos with Noah, but if you want me to call them back and tell them we just want a quiet evening, I can do that."

You shook your head against his crunchy costume as you laughed. "We should tell them about the baby when they get here."

"Yeah?" he asked excitedly. "You want to?"

"I mean, Nat and Javy know. Dr. Kelly knows. I think Mav and Penny should know now, too."

"I love this idea," he whispered, letting his fingers gently glide along the front of your dress. "You're feeling better now?"

You nodded, but Noah didn't really let you answer before he started clapping as he looked out the front door. "Aunt Natasha is back!" 

She walked in dressed as a jester and picked Noah up to give him a kiss. A minute later, Maverick, Penny and Amelia were all there as well, and phones were being passed around along with Noah, because everyone wanted their picture with the tiny prince. 

"Okay, let me take one of everyone in front of the pumpkins on the porch," Bradley said as he collected a few phones in his hands and headed outside. He smirked at you as he added, "Everyone needs to squeeze together a little bit more. Make sure both of my kids are in there."

"Both?" Penny asked before she gasped, and the first photo Bradley took was of her turning to look at you with wide eyes. "Both?!"

"I'm pregnant," you announced with a smile, and the second photo Bradley took was of everyone else with wide eyes, too. And he snapped a few more where Nat was holding Noah with a grin on her face while the others all hugged you.

----------------------------

After a brief argument on your end, Bradley managed to get you and Noah both settled into the oversized wagon he bought earlier this afternoon. Then he clipped Skittles' leash on before attaching her tiny crown to her head. "There we go. The royal family is now complete."

"Have fun!" Nat called out, waving from the front porch with the bowl of candy, already crowded with neighborhood kids looking for their treats. 

"I don't need to be pulled in a wagon all night," you protested as Bradley scoffed.

"What kind of knight would I be if I wasn't doting on the two of you." Skittles barked, so he added, "I meant the three of you."

"Four," you said, pointing to your belly as he pulled the wagon down the driveway. 

"My point is," he said loudly, "I will be doting on my entire family all night long, and there's nothing you can do about it. Please keep your arms and legs inside the royal carriage until we come to a complete stop."

He very dutifully pulled up to each house before lifting Noah out and taking him up to collect his piece of candy. Bradley got the chance to enjoy so many of his neighbors telling him how sweet his son looked, and he kept reminding Noah to say thank you. After about an hour, two treat bags had been filled up with candy, and you looked like you were having fun. You even started waving from the wagon at everyone you passed like a real princess would.

"This is really fun," you said, holding on to Noah as Bradley turned another corner. 

"I love Halloween!" his son shouted. 

Truthfully, it was a bit of a challenge for Bradley to pull the wagon, keep Skittles from barking at the other kids, and take Noah up to each house and back, but he wasn't about to complain. Not after everything you'd done and been through while he was in Japan. But he would sleep well tonight. That was a given. 

"I think this was the last house," Bradley said, stifling his own yawn. "Feel like chatting about our wedding on the way back home?" he asked as Noah yawned as well and settled down in the wagon with you.

It was hard to read your face in the darkness. "What do you want to chat about?" you asked softly.

"How soon will you let me marry you?"

You laughed and said, "How soon do you want to get married?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Hmm," you hummed. "Seems like that would be short notice for wedding guests."

"We don't need wedding guests," he said, and he meant it. "You still want to use our backyard?"

"Yes."

Bradley slowed down over a particularly uneven part of the sidewalk. "Are you still set on Valentine's Day?  Because I'm thinking Christmas."

"Christmas?" you repeated. "Like less than two months from now?"

Bradley pulled the wagon up the driveway past the Bronco, and of course Noah was sound asleep. As soon as he scooped his son off of your lap, Nat came rushing over from her seat on the porch. "I can get him changed and put him in bed."

He didn't argue with her, rather he handed Noah off and focused on helping you out of the wagon. "Yeah. Less than two months from now. I keep thinking about how you threw me a Christmas in July birthday party. We could have a Christmas wedding, too. And after that, we can start the adoption process."

You moaned his name as he took your hand and headed for the house. "You know the way to my heart is through Noah."

He straightened out your crown, still rather fond of your purple one which was sitting safely on his dresser. "Is that a yes?" he whispered, kissing you softly while a few remaining kids ran down the sidewalk laughing. "We can make it official? And I can take care of you forever?"

"Yes."

------------------------------

Bradley helped you out of your princess costume after he stripped out of his knight costume, and his lips met the bare skin of your shoulder immediately. "I love you," he murmured, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the bed. But it didn't feel sexual. You knew that wasn't why he was being exceptionally wonderful right now.

"I love you, too."

His forehead came to rest against yours, and his hands were so gentle on your hips. "I'm just relieved to be home. And I'm sorry I wasn't here last week. If something worse had happened to you while I was gone, when you really needed me, I don't know what I would have done."

"We're all okay," you whispered, pushing him until he was sitting down on the bed looking up at you. "And I feel a lot better since I've been resting more." Your skin felt warm and tingly as he kissed you. Six weeks was a long time, and you knew Bradley hadn't even had access to all of the photos and videos on his phone to keep him company. And you did want it to feel sexual, because you missed every bit of him.

"Lay back on your pillow and wait for me," you told Bradley with a smile, using his words against him. 

He did as he was told and patted the spot next to him as he said, "Does that mean you're ready to snuggle with me?"

"Something like that, Daddy."

As soon as you licked your lips and reached for the front of his sweatpants, his eyes went wider. "No, Baby. You don't have to do that."

"I want to," you promised, pulling the fabric down to reveal his soft length. He still looked delicious even like this. You desperately wanted him in your mouth. You met his eyes and whispered, "Please?"

He was panting softly, the rise and fall of his chest so alluring even through his undershirt. He moaned your name and made a strangled sound before he reached for your hand. When he sat up slowly and kissed you gently, he placed your hand on his cock, and he immediately throbbed for you. 

As you rubbed your thumb down his length and along his balls, he grew harder. "You missed me touching you like this," you sang in a quiet voice, watching him as he watched your hand. When his eyes flitted back to your face he nodded. "Tell me you did, Bradley."

He swallowed hard, and his voice was so raspy, your hand faltered. "I missed you like this. I thought about your body when I touched myself, but my hands aren't as soft and perfect as yours."

"Daddy," you whimpered, leaning down to kiss away his precum before taking him between your lips.

But he continued on as you sucked, driving you as wild as you were driving him. "I thought about you with a pregnant belly. I thought about how much I'm going to love fucking you when you're big and round. Big because of my baby."

You took him deep, letting him tap the back of your throat as you saw stars along your vision. "Fuck! Princess! I'm not even gonna last."

Slowly, you let your lips glide back up his length, sucking all the way to his tip. "Then just go ahead and come, Daddy. I want you to."

When he collapsed back against the pillow and tucked one arm beneath his head, you took him deep again. He wasn't kidding, because you could see the veins in his neck as his face grew pink, and you knew he was already close. You didn't rush him along, but you bobbed to a pace that left him grabbing at the bedding with his free hand.

"Baby!" he whined, rolling his hips up until you were starting to gag, and then he came. You were sputtering, swallowing him down as quickly as you could as your name fell from his lips over and over again. "Come up here," he demanded, and when you crawled toward him as you licked your lips clean, he gathered you carefully in his arms.

You never felt as loved as you did when you were with him. His body was perfectly warm and everything you had been missing. His voice calmed every part of you. "December," he whispered as he played with your engagement ring. It took you a moment to realize what he meant as he kissed at your lips. "December. We'll get married. We'll all be Bradshaws. Me and you and Noah and the baby. That's all I need."

"And Skittles."

"Please. She's my best non-human friend. It's unspoken."

--------------------------

When Bradley promised to meet you at your lunchtime appointment with your obstetrician on Wednesday, you were a little skeptical. 

"Even if I have to flip off Admiral Simpson and tell him to go fuck himself, I will be there."

You had laughed at the time, but you should have known he wouldn't miss a chance to interrogate your doctor in his flight suit. He stood next to you as you were told to lie back on the table for a pelvic exam, and he kept his eyes on you through the uncomfortable experience, looking down at you like you were the best thing in the world. 

"Does she need another progesterone shot today?" he asked softly as you reached for his hand. "And are you going to monitor her with more appointments? And will we get to see an ultrasound?"

"Yes, yes, and yes." Your doctor looked at you and said, "We'll monitor you more closely even after you're done with the injections. We are going to consider you high risk."

"High risk?" you gasped. "That sounds very bad."

"It's not!" he insisted as he guided you to sit up a little bit. "It just means you and the baby get extra attention."

Bradley looked the doctor in the eye and said, "She wants to go to Disneyland for a day or two. Is that even okay?"

You were ready to pout and tell both of them that you felt fine now. There had been no more blood. You were getting plenty of rest. Then he said the words you'd been hoping to hear. "Disneyland would be fine. Just don't overdo it."

"Yes!" you cheered. "Noah will be so excited! Let's go for Thanksgiving!"

Bradley opened his mouth, and you could tell he wanted to protest, but your doctor started to spread gel on your belly, and then the baby was visible on the screen on the wall when the ultrasound started up. "Oh damn," Bradley whispered, suddenly mesmerized by what he saw as he gripped your hand tighter. "Look at the heartbeat. Look at the baby."

"Does he or she look healthy?" you asked, mesmerized as well.

"Very healthy, but we will keep a close eye on things."

When Bradley walked you back to your car which was parked next to the Bronco, you pulled him to a stop. You wrapped your arms around his waist, and your scrubs rubbed gently against his flight suit. "Will you please let me plan a few days at Disneyland?"

"Two days," he replied immediately, clearly already resigned to his fate. "And you have to stay hydrated. And if you even start to look tired, I'm going to push you around in a wheelchair. And if you say anything hurts, we're leaving immediately."

"Disney!" you practically screamed as you bobbed up and down in his grasp and kissed his cheek. "I can't wait to tell Noah! I'll see you at home later, Daddy."

"I'll pick Noah up along with dinner. When I get home you better have your feet up and a glass of water in your hand."

"I will," you promised, matching his serious expression with one of your own. "I'll be very careful. And I'll plan our little vacation. And you'll take exceptional care of everything else."

"You know I will."

--------------------------

We should all have a Bradley in our lives to let us rest and heal when we need to. That man is going to take care of everything and probably plan a wedding, too. Is Nat also going to Disneyland? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 58

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[citruswriter]

A Different Kind Of Light

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Cyberpunk AU, disabled reader, gaslighting, manipulation, somnophilia (???).

Monstertober/Yantober Prompts: Artificial Intelligence/Secret Collection

Pairing: Fem AI Android x Fem Reader

You had memory issues. Sometimes you would forget small things like where you put your phone or if you had lunch or not. Other times it was big things like your latest doctor's appointment or the fact that you had lunch planned with your mother. Thankfully you had insurance and they were able to get you a medical droid. They said something about it being a new model they were testing that looked more human than the other droids but was still fully artificial intelligence.

When she finally got shipped, you carefully read the manual before activating and programing her. To you, she was simply there to help you with your memory issues. Little did you know that that was certainly not how she viewed you.

To her you were like the sun itself. A kind-hearted goddess who had graced her with a place at your side. She found herself taking things from you. Articles of clothing you didn't wear often, sticky notes that had your handwriting on them, photos of yourself that you didn't like that much, even an old red solo cup you had used at a party one time that you stumbled home with one time.

She had a little box with these things, and if you ever asked about them, it was easy to gaslight you. Questioning where that pair of panties was? Oh you threw them out! You don't remember? It's ok, your trusty medical droid does.

You always fell for her manipulation tactics. After all, she'd never lead you astray, right? It would go against her programming, her very coding. But even good things must come to an end.

One day you were cleaning the house while she was charging when you came across a little yellow shoe box. Curiously, you opened it and what you found sent a chill down your spine. A few pairs of your panties and a croptop you didn't wear anymore, old sticky notes with your handwriting on them, and photos. So many photos. Many photos were ones you had taken but didn't exactly like. Some of them were group photos with your friends aggressively scratched out.

"You weren't supposed to see that." A voice came and you bolt up and spin around, coming face to face with the droid. "What the fuck is this?" You ask softly, voice trembling and she gives you a smile. "Why it's my little collection of things that I took from you." She says with a shrug and your brows furrow. "Why?" You ask simply and she gives a giggle. "Because I'm in love with you." She replies with a lovesick look in her cyber eyes and you blink in shock.

"That's... that's not possible." You say, tone shaky as you grab your phone. "I'm calling the agency, there's obviously something wrong with your coding." You say and her face drops. "NO!" She shouts and before you can register what's going on, she's landed a hit to your head so hard that it instantly knocks you out.

You crumble to the floor and she picks you up, placing you on your bed. "No, no, no. I don't want to forget this feeling. I love you. Why can't you just let me love you? You're mine. Mine." She breathes out possessively, hands trailing over your body in a clingy fashion. She presses her lips to your mouth gently before trailing them down your jaw and neck.

"MIne, mine, mine. My sweet girl. My sunshine. My darling. I love you. Love you so much. I don't know how I can feel this but I do." She breathes out, kissing the swell of your breasts, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. "Just need a little more time. Just need you to fall in love with me back." She purred out as she covered your body with a blanket.

When you finally wake up, you groan and look around. "Morning." You hear your droid say and you look up at her. She wears a kind smile as she approaches you with a glass of water. "You were cleaning and slipped. You banged your head pretty badly." She says softly and your suddenly aware of the pounding in your head.

You take the water and drink a bit before she hands you some piankillers. You pop them in your mouth before swallowing them down with some water. "Thank you so much." You say softly. Your mind wanders to a faint memory but it must have been a dream... Right?

"I hear some humans use kisses to help heal things that hurt. May I try?" she asks ask you look up at the AI girl, cheeks heating up. "Uh, yeah sure." You say softly and she leans in, pressing cold lips to your forehead. You can't help but smile softly as she runs her fingers through your hair.

"Rest. I'll clean the rest of the house." She says softly, gently pushing you down. "You don't have to do that. That's not what you're programmed for." You say softly but she simply waves her hand, tucking you in. "Let me help. Please. It's not a problem for me." She says and for a moment you swear you can see a look of love flicker across her face.

You sigh and settle in your bed, ready to rest. "Alright. If you're sure." You say, relenting as you snuggle in your blankets. She smiles and kisses your temple. As she walked out of your room and began to clean, she couldn't help but smile darkly. She had gotten away with it. Maybe she should feel guilty but she didn't. You were hers.

Her ray of sunshine.

Sapphic yandere anybody? I feel like this one is the most yandere so far. I didn't make it a smut bc honestly the lemon juices just weren't flowing but I still really like this fic.

Taglist: @ozzgin

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 85 (Searching for Rafa Bonilla)

cw: mentions underage trafficking, drug smuggling

Conrad looked for Rafa Bonilla between his regular cases at the precinct, following clues and booking suspects to keep his captain satisfied. A few months into his search he finally located one of Rafa's known associates, according to police reports.

He called Heather, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Hey, you've reached Heather's phone. It's either the middle of the night or I'm with a patient, so leave a message and I'll call you back."

"Hey, it's me. I was hoping to talk to you, but I've got to work a little late tonight. I'll make it up to you. I'm sorry. I love you."

He drove outside Brindleton Bay to greet the man who thought he had everyone fooled with his chess mentorship program. It would be less than thirty minutes before his students - mostly children - started showing up for their scheduled lesson in the park, so Conrad knew he had to work fast. He shuddered as he got closer to him, and not just because it was freezing outside.

"Jimmy Stefano," he said, dropping his voice an octave to sound serious.

"Not lately," mused the man with a laugh. "Who's asking?" He turned to face the voice who knew his old identity. "You? They said you were a cop now. No surprise they never let you work our cases."

Conrad knew they had no time for small talk and he whipped out his cuffs. "You're under arrest for aiding and abetting a known fugitive."

"You can't be serious! Who?"

"Rafael Bonilla."

Jimmy's face went white, but he stopped resisting. As Conrad cuffed him, he asked, "Are you taking me in to help San Myshuno PD, or did she call you?"

Conrad scoffed. "She who?"

Jimmy laughed. "She told both of us sweet nothings, old friend. You were just dumb enough to believe them."

"Shut up and get in the cruiser."

Back at the station, Jimmy looked around the interrogation room in his orange jumpsuit once Conrad booked him. "Aren't you going to need the cameras on to record your attempt at my confession?"

"I want you to speak freely, Stefano. Tell me everything you know."

Jimmy eyed him suspiciously. "You're not working with San Myshuno PD at all, are you."

"I didn't stage an elaborate arrest just to scare you. I still plan to file a report after you and I catch up. Just talk."

"She really did get to you. Are you trying to let her ruin your life again?"

"Where the hell is Rafa?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in two years, when the last job we did together went bad. I assumed his sister told him to run since the charges he's facing are so serious."

"She doesn't know where he is."

"I'm sure she told you that. Did she tell you she was done with Los Tigres, too?"

Conrad flinched, and Jimmy raised an eyebrow.

"I'm happy with my chess students, but I can't get out now. When you walked, I should've joined you, but I didn't have your father's connections at the police station to keep me out of jail."

"I wasn't even there that night, but you gave them my name."

"Yeah, I did, because you walked before you even got started. Los Tigres only let you live because you became a cop and they didn't need the heat. I don't know what she told you, but if you think Ximena's turned over a new leaf and is done smuggling for the cartel, you're an idiot. She just uses new aliases these days."

Conrad breathed in through his nose. "If I turn the cameras on, will you avoid mentioning our history while you tell me what Ximena's still doing with the cartel?"

"What's in it for me, Sargent?"

"If it comes to it and you're telling the truth, I only want Ximena. As long as Los Tigres doesn't get caught up in anything at the Brindleton docks, I've got no reason to open up a window to the past. You should think about moving on, too. Turn that chess mentorship program into more than just a front."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Some of us are lifers, you know."

Conrad hit record while Jimmy told him everything he knew about Ximena's past - how she escaped being trafficked in her teens by offering to run drugs for Los Tigres de Selva, working her way up to running an entire operation moving drugs from Selvadorada to San Myshuno, through Britechester, and back again. Her associates called her The Chameleon because of how often she changed her hair.

She'd been arrested but never did hard time, with those who worked under her often taking the fall, instead - like Jimmy Stefano. Twice. Ximena kept herself just clean enough to avoid prison, and dragged her brother into the same life. "Rafa and I used to pose as Simlandian military to run product for his sister, but he never got caught for that," Jimmy said.

"When was the last time you worked for her?"

"Four months ago."

Conrad led him through several questions, showing copies of Ximena's old police reports. When they'd finished, he released Jimmy Stefano. It didn't satisfy him to send a known smuggler back to the streets, but he'd gained some incriminating evidence against Ximena, at the very least. He was beginning to think he might need it, eventually.

He headed home in darkness, and his mind raced with possibilities. Could Ximena's activities have led directly to her brother's disappearance? Who were her enemies these days?

He tried to call her, against his better judgment, but she didn't pick up her phone. He hung up before the voicemail kicked in.

When he walked in the door, he found six-year-old Ash on the floor, working on a castle diorama for extra credit at school. He knelt down to help him without even changing out of his work clothes. "Can you help me with the small pieces? Mommy won't let me use better scissors, but my kid scissors barely cut anything!"

He grinned. Grateful for the distraction, Conrad pulled out an instruction booklet tucked under the edge of the box. "Of course. What did you need me to cut?"

"Just these windows," he said. "They're too small. And can you measure to make sure my towers are big enough? I want the biggest towers of the whole class! Like the Spire Tower!"

"Tallest towers, can do. Hey, did you want to use this lump of clay for anything?" (Finally, the clay comes out at a sensible moment!!)

"Yeah! Moat mud! And we could use real water!"

"Your mom won't be very happy if we make real mud in the house, buddy."

Heather walked into the room then, kneeling down next to them to play with Gord. "Please don't make real mud. Why don't you use the clay to mould a base for the castle?"

"Good idea, Mommy! Can we have pancakes for dinner tomorrow night? I've been thinking about pancakes all day!"

"I can make you pancakes for dinner, but your mom and I won't be here to eat them with you," said Conrad. "Tomorrow night, I'm taking your mom on a date."

"What's a date?"

"It's when people who like each other hang out," Heather said.

Ash's eyes grew wide. "Is there kissing?"

Conrad grinned. "There might be. What do you know about kissing?"

He paused. "Nothing, I guess. Scotti Holiday says it's like eating faces, but why would people who like each other eat their faces?"

Heather laughed. "Don't worry, Conrad's not going to eat my face. Are you almost finished with your diorama for the night? It's getting late and you should get to bed soon."

"Just a little while longer, Mommy. Please! I'm not tired and I'm almost done!"

When he and Conrad had finished, they displayed the excellent diorama on a kitchen countertop until Ash could take it to school in the morning. Before he went to bed, Conrad went upstairs to check on his sleeping baby girl.

Intuitive to his human's growing stress level, no matter how well he hid it from everyone else, Gord followed him. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[sugawarassoulmate]

someone else tries to get with them

feat loser!kuroo, enemies to lovers!kita, and toxic!oikawa

part 1

cw: fem!reader

loser!kuroo

kuroo's body tensed the second one of them came close to him. he always hates these events — spending hours fake laughing at awful jokes to get on the good side of investors. his only joy is when you tag along, keeping prying eyes at bay.

but kuroo's found himself cornered by three women, all the much-too-young wives of some of his colleagues who were all taken with the handsome ceo.

"this suit looks amazing on you," one of them said. kuroo wanted to tell her that his wife picked out his outfit but before he could answer, another chimed in. "you just fill it up so well, have you been working out?"

his eyes flick over across the room, where you're standing with a quirked brow. you've calmed down a lot since marriage and don't explode with anger every time another woman so much as breaths near kuroo anymore. instead, you took a sip from your wine glass and gave him a look that said, "figure it out."

"can we get you a drink?" one of the other women asks as kuroo feels another pulling on his bicep. did they not see the wedding band on his finger? did none of them notice him walking into the room with you on his arm?

he starts sweating, eyes darting back to you and then the women. kuroo's so used to you taking charge and staking your claim on him but he can't allow you to be disrespected like this.

as one of the women tries to pull him in again, kuroo fights out of her grasp. "i'm married!!!" he blurted out, startling not only the women but a few people that were nearby. embarrassed that he raised his voice, kuroo cleared his throat. "sorry for yelling but i don't think it's appropriate for us to talk like this. i love my wife very much. have a good night."

kuroo makes his way toward you, a smug grin on your face. "so, you into ugly girls or something?"

"baby, please," he whines.

enemies to lovers!kita

you may have found kita absolutely insufferable but most people found him a joy to be around. he was kind and respectful to others. the kind of person that helps others without asking or walks old ladies across the street. it seemed as though kita didn't have an unkind word to say about anyone, except for you.

because of his benevolence, most people wanted to be around him. girls threw themselves at him, knowing that he'd be the type to spoil his significant other. that wasn't the annoying part — because you definitely didn't care about some dumb bimbo trying to get his attention. it was the older women who tried to set kita up with their daughters that irked you the most.

"you know, i have a daughter your age that you'd just be perfect for," or "do you have a girlfriend? my niece could really use a sweet boy like you, can i give her your number?"

even after explaining that he was too focused on his studies and helping his grandma with the farm to even think about dating, these women wouldn't take no for an answer.

"can you tell whoever's blowing up your phone to cut the shit?" you complained, growing tired of the constant buzzing.

kita rolls his eyes at your foul language. he doesn't bother looking at his phone as the two of you lock up the club room for the night. "one of my grandma's friends gave my number to her daughter and she keeps tryin' to set up a date," he says, bored expression never leaving his face.

"you're that down bad that you need your grandma's buddies to get a date?" you scoffed, trying to hide the fact that it may bother you just a little bit that there are so many people trying to get kita's attention.

perceptive as ever, kita catches onto your catty attitude. "she probably won't stop until i say yes to a date," he says nonchalantly, walking back onto campus.

he's only getting a rise out of you. what little free time kita has left from all of his other responsibilities goes to you—both of you know it's true, there's no reason to argue. still, you'd just die if you couldn't make a comment at his expense. "i mean if, sure, you're into ugly girls. this girl can't get a date on her own?" you rambled, stomping beside kita as you head back to your apartment. "but don't let me stop you. i know how much you love doing charity work."

"i won't go if you don't want me to," kita hums, holding the door open for you (1. because he's a gentleman, 2. because he knows it pisses you off.)

"i don't care what you do," you said back to him in a similar mocking tone.

that weekend, though, kita is at your place, where he usually spends most of his weekends. "your date was that bad, huh?" you said as soon as you open the door for him.

"i told her it wouldn't work out and deleted her number," kita answers, carefully removing his shoes and placing them neatly by your door. "i only have time fer important things." he makes direct eye contact when he says it before brushing past you to head to your bedroom.

kita's words stump you for a second, trying to figure out what he meant but soon, his irritating voice comes back, scolding you to hurry back and any thought you had before is forgotten as an insult leaves your lips.

toxic!oikawa

you felt terrible for being late. punctuality was something you always prided yourself on but your boss seemed to think differently, keeping you in the office for hours.

normally, you'd suck it up and accept that you had a shit day at work but you and oikawa had a date planned — one that took ages for both of you to set up.

the image of oikawa sitting at the restaurant alone broke your heart, so you practically raced over there, barely having time to change out of your work clothes.

"i'm so sorry, babe. my boss is such a dick and then the trains were slow—" you rambled as soon as you sat down, immediately asking for your boyfriend's forgiveness

"hey, slow down! it's okay, honey," he said, pushing a glass of wine across the table for you. "i know you didn't mean to be late. you're here now, that's what matters. i already ordered for the two of us."

he had every right to lay into you tonight. this was the perfect opportunity for him to be at his most dramatic, to really make you feel guilty for being late but he acted with a maturity you weren't used to seeing.

"i still feel bad that you were sitting here all by yourself," you said, reaching over to hold his hand.

oikawa shrugged. "well, i wasn't totally alone. our waitress kept me company while i waited."

you hate to say that the second he said "waitress" the alarm bells started ringing in your head. a handsome, young man like oikawa sitting alone in a fancy restaurant is like food on a silver platter for some of these vultures.

and you could only imagine how charming he must have been when the waitress comforted him about being by himself—smiling at her jokes and staring up at her with those warm brown eyes of his, completely unaware of that she would take it as an invitation.

you tried to swallow the bitterness down, not wanting to put a sour note on the night. you opened your mouth to speak but a grating sound stopped you.

"ohhhh, how good of you to finally show," said the high-pitched voice, dripping with faux concern. "i was worried you might have stood this poor man up."

oikawa laughs at the unfunny joke, clearly finding all of this amusing and she practically sparkles at the slightest hint of his approval. "i don't know how you'd ever let him out of your sight. any girl would just love to snatch him right up,'

his eyes glance over at you, ready to see how you'll react. oikawa just loves it when you get territorial of him and even though you've gotten better over the years, there's still that part of you that's always ready to claw someone's eyes out for thinking they could stake their claim on him.

"you're right, any girl would. in fact, many have tried and they've all failed," you smiled up at her, gripping oikawa's hand harder so she would have to take notice of it. "now be a dear and have our food ready soon, okay? i want to spend some time with my boyfriend."

with her tail between her legs, the waitress scurries from the table, muttering something about the food. oikawa laughs again, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles. "my mean baby, you know you don't have anything to worry about, yeah?"

of course, you knew. you wouldn't be with oikawa if you didn't trust him but any girl who had the slightest inkling that she could lead your man astray had to be humbled—and oikawa would be lying if he didn't enjoy the possessive look you get in your eye.

"let's enjoy our dinner, babe."

©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[takes1]

I'm gonna start by saying that your fics are amazing! I love the way you write and I always get immersed in them. I would like to request an Osamu x reader fic, i was thinking about a childhood friends pining for a decade!au happening while working in his Onigiri shop, you might add Suna if you want,perhaps as a love triangle and misunderstandings as in Osamu thinking that the reader like Suna. As for the smut, I'll leave that to you 👀

thank you so much for supporting!! i love getting these requests and hearing from you! it really helps. not gonna lie, this one challenged me, but i think it turned out well! hope i got this right :) thanks again for the request love

warnings. lite!nsfw. minors DNI info. hq lite!nsfw / safe consent practices / mutual pining / some angst, some hurt, but pay-off / husband material!osamu / timeskip!osamu / childhood friends to lovers / miscommunication / r.i.p suna's unrequited feelings / misunderstandings / osamu gives great hugs / osamu is a wine snob / osamu is a little shy / 2.5k words 🤍haikyuu collection. more of my hq here more links. my ao3 / masterlist / request box is open so give me some ideas pls!

Your heart gave an all-too familiar squeeze at the sight of an old friend.

There he was, clad in a black cap, apron, and a well-fitting shirt. His face was one of slight concentration, his mouth in a straight line, jaw flexed. A strong arm lifted the black bag he carried high into the trash in the alley with ease.

"'Samu!" His nickname was like a sigh of reassurance on your tongue.

He turned, a stern face letting up as soon as he recognized you coming towards him. He quickly discarded his gloves in the trash and made forward to meet you. It ended in a hug in the middle of the sidewalk.

Business was so slow today, he really wasn't expecting any surprises- especially not any pleasant ones.

"(Y/n)." Was a mumble against your hair, charged relief on his breath. He was lifting you off of your feet and melting into you at the same time.

Your eyes stung a little when you tucked your face into his comforting shoulder. It'd been so long since graduation, but everything was coming back to you, all at once, against your will.

Maybe it was because you could still taste the onigiri you just finished, but those lunches he used to prepare for you kept cropping up. You weren't sure why it kept making you want to cry, though.

"I missed you!" You whispered, swallowing a sob.

He gave you a crushing squeeze in return. He certainly hadn't stopped working out since your high school days. There was a hesitation in letting each other go.

"God," His quick blinking made you feel better for getting emotional, "What are you doin' all the way out here?"

You sniffled and turned to Suna, briefly forgotten at the table, "I told you those fillings tasted familiar!"

There was an unmistakable shock in Osamu's eyes when you turned back to him, "We were just grabbing lunch. I had no idea 'Onigiri Miya' would actually mean you!"

He missed the natural beat to respond- instead of letting your declaration die, you kept up the attempt to rekindle things.

"Did you get a new number?" You asked, quieter, trying to catch his eye, so you leaned your head further between him and Suna.

He looked down at you with a much softer expression, "Hm?"

"I- texted you a couple months ago, I just assumed you got a- new number," You trailed.

It felt a bit forced and loser-esque to ask the reason why he hadn't texted you back. Two months was a while to get 'caught up' in something, after all.

If he didn't want to talk to you, he technically didn't owe you an explanation.

He blinked. It didn't cross his mind that you would've texted him-- his fingers fumbled for his phone in his pocket to show you a new iPhone.

"Yeah," He sighed, "Shit, I didn't think to tell anyone but 'Sumu..."

This time, he felt like the loser. He didn't have many people to text, nowadays. But he certainly didn't want you and Suna to know that.

Relief flashed across your face as you admitted in a light laugh, "Oh, thank god. I really thought you were ignoring me!"

"Let's all exchange numbers," You suggested.

You looked back to Suna and thought you saw some hostility in his eyes, "So we can all meet up sometime, when you're not working."

The process of getting each other's contacts was quiet and stilted. You thought better of making plans here and now, because there was an indescribable feeling that something was wrong.

Maybe the timing.

Osamu frowned at his phone after getting it back from Suna.

Maybe the place.

Suna gave a subtle sigh when Osamu put his number in.

Your text to Osamu that night garnered a response so quick that it made up for the months of uncertainty and pseudo-grieving. Your oldest friendship was not buried as deep in the ground as you had previously thought.

It ended in a suggestion you weren't expecting.

There was nowhere you both wanted to eat at, and no activities you could think of that would allow for the long conversations you both favored.

I could cook for us.

You knew better than to deny him the chance to cook, but it was clear to both of you that it felt a little too forward. A little too intimate for just two good friends.

That wasn't enough to keep you from agreeing immediately.

Certain that he didn't feel the same, you rationalized that you had nothing to worry about.

Dark red swirled slow, unending circles in your glass. You weren't one for red, but he brought out a vintage just for you tonight.

The perfectly plated dinner in front of you didn't last long. Osamu made it so easy to like foods you swore up and down you hated; you didn't question his choices despite your usual pickiness.

There were a number of times you had to pretend not to notice him watching you eat. He was pretty obvious, because he'd raise his spoon full of food, then let it hover mid-air, and turn his whole head to watch you chew. It was as if he was waiting for you to declare it was the worst thing you'd ever tasted.

He was still working on his -most likely cold- plate minutes after you cleaned yours off. It left you to catch up to him in glasses of wine. The bottle was nearing empty and you were still on your first.

"Do you have any roommates?" You asked, glancing around a spacious apartment.

It was so still. You'd surely die of loneliness, if you were him.

He shook his head. It made sense with his preference for solitude, but it still made you sit back and sip on your wine to keep from voicing your concern.

"It's quiet," Osamu wiped his mouth with his napkin and pushed his plate forward, "I know."

Was your discomfort that obvious?

His chuckling won out over your insistence that it wasn't that bad, and you eventually were resolved back to slouching in your chair again.

"You just need some- flowers," You motioned to the center of the table, not believing in your advice in the slightest, "Or... something like that."

"To be fair, I never sit at the table."

He poured the last of the wine into his glass. You stared down at yours. He still spoke and acted stone-cold sober. You had to wonder how much he drank, with this bleak living space.

"Not a fan of Merlot?"

This was getting a little embarrassing.

This time, you gave in, "Not feeling this one as much."

His brow raised. He had a layered expression, like he was torn between two sides of himself for a split-second.

He eased up and slid his elbows on the table, wine glass looking absurdly tiny in his hand.

You admired the gentle way he held the delicate glass, how he knew just how the weight was supposed to be distributed in the webs of his fingers.

"You drink wine much?" He had that completely immersed look on his face that was always so difficult to return.

He mistook your trouble to return his gaze as discomfort, and laughed, retracting his body from the table, "I-'m sorry--,"

"No-no it's okay-!" You put your hand on his arm and scooted your chair closer to affirm that you didn't mind his proximity -that you in fact welcomed it- and rambled, "I- don't, drink wine like that. So I- wouldn't really know what's good."

His gaze sent a shiver surging through your whole body. What an intense pair of eyes. He leaned forward on his elbows, thumb rubbing his freshly shaved cheek.

"It's an expensive hobby."

You were wracking up inappropriate questions by the second. First, the lack of love in his sad apartment, then his potential alcohol issues, now his salary.

The quiet clink of his glass on the table. A heavy, warm hand stilled yours on his arm, and he caught your troubled gaze.

"But it's just a hobby," He smiled.

The apartment filled with shared laughter. You were getting read like an open book, you couldn't help but cool your face down with the back of your hand.

"I-I promise, I'm not trying to judge," You sighed and grinned at what you noticed as his slightly tipsy giggling, "I just... care about you."

Osamu took a breath to say something, but something else flickered across across his face.

His hand was starting to slip from yours.

"So, you and Suna again?"

You laughed at what you thought was a joke. He didn't return it; instead, he let go and took another big sip from his almost empty glass.

"Oh-," You realized he was mistaken, "We're not together."

"Mm!" He swallowed and laughed, "Oh- that's good."

His focus faltered with a small cough, "I mean, not good, but-,"

"That's not something I want to go back to," You saved his embarrassing admission gracefully and looked away, only thinking about that short-lived relationship in high school.

Suna was just a distraction. A temporary filler for your unbearable emptiness. You never stopped loving Osamu, even when you had everyone else fooled. In the end, Suna just made you miss your friend more, since it sparked an unspoken drift in the process. It wasn't one of your brightest moments.

The look on his face was asking for more information. A 'So... why?' was on the tip of his tongue. You saved him the breath.

"He reached out. I was free, and I wanted to make sure we were alright after things ended like that."

Osamu nodded slowly, swirling half a sip of wine in his glass with careful consideration.

"You talk about it like you never liked him," He sighed against the rim, then shot it back in a way that made you realize why he was drinking so much.

He didn't have the courage to talk to you like this without it.

Your thumb, still resting on his forearm, rubbed thoughtfully. If he was being this candid through his actions, you didn't mind coming clean about a few things.

"I didn't," You admitted in a breathy half-laugh, "It wasn't real to me."

You shut your eyes tight and seethed, "I know that sounds so cruel--,"

"Yeah," He chuckled.

"Okay- I meant it like..." Your thumb was tapping on his raised skin, "I needed a distraction. You know I was struggling. He really was sweet. I know I should've treated him better."

It was clear that there was no hero to the story. You were all flawed, to some degree. Osamu's hand returned to yours. This time, he squeezed.

"You know I don't judge you for that."

All things considered, that break-up was still fresh. It was only briefly before your graduation date.

"Hey-," He reached up to turn your head towards him. It was a bit much and left you both warm and fidgety, "You know that I know that you're a good person."

His hand fell to your forearm.

It was fleeting, but you felt an energy between you. It was different. It filled that space in your heart you'd long since carved out for him.

Fleeting must be reiterated, because it was gone in an instant as he cleared his throat and stood, collecting the dishes in one trip with skill you could only attribute to the nature of his work.

You chugged the rest of your wine with a shudder so it wouldn't go to waste and skittered after his swift movement towards the kitchen.

If there was any place in the house that didn't feel lifeless, it was the kitchen. Spacious and clean, sure, but every tool and appliance here was cared for and used often.

It distracted you to slow down.

There was a level of respect you felt was necessary for a space so important to Osamu.

He began washing the dishes.

"Please let me do something," You begged from behind him.

All you got was a stoic head shake.

You leaned on the countertop behind him, staring at his back in that clean, black shirt. Would you ever get over him?

His words and actions from tonight turned over in your head. That hug you shared yesterday afternoon made your hands slip from the counter.

It may have been the wine that inspired your resolve to actually follow through, but your motivation did have years of pent-up desire behind it.

His body stiffened at the feeling of your arms around his waist, the side of your face pressed against his warm back. He smelled like a woody, musky cologne.

"Thank you," You muttered, mostly for his kind words, but its roots extended much farther than just recent events.

The sound of the water shutting off encouraged you to loosen your grip. The doubt started settling in as he dried his hands with a hanging towel, wordless.

His hands just barely grazed yours as you retracted, heart racing at the fact that you couldn't take that back.

He turned around to face you. Your eyes were busy avoiding his, so you were taken by surprise when he leaned down to pick you up from the waist.

It was just as easy and comfortable as the first time-- his shoulders spacious enough to bury yourself in, his hold so secure you didn't have to spare any strength holding on. He could support you all day.

A breathy groan, like he was a settling house, brushed your ear and sent tingles down your spine.

He set you down, but guided your arms to stay around his neck. You looked back and forth between his eyes, no longer unsure about his feelings.

"I missed you so much."

He was a clumsy kisser, but you didn't mind.

His hands were skilled and sure. It was more than enough to make up for his hungrier, rather than soft kisses.

One kept you steady by the back of your head, the other taking up your entire shoulder to guide you backwards against the kitchen island.

He rendered you breathless quickly- you pulled away for just a moment and he took it as a good sign to lift you up onto the countertop.

No part of you questioned this intense show of affection-- it felt like a fitting release of years-long tension and unspoken feelings.

They still remained unspoken, for the most part, but it could wait.

His hips pushed hard against your own, eliciting a soft, fluttery sound against his mouth.

He ate it up, wanting another so bad that one hand grabbed at the bend in your hip and thigh to keep you against him.

Your tummy twisted in a mixture of delightful pleasure and desire, everything below your waist all giddy and jittery as his fingers squeezed your hips with a need you never knew he was harboring.

Thighs trembling with nerves, his steady grasp pushing down helped to calm and stall you. You caught your breath with your forehead pressed against his. You unhooked your legs.

"W-hat?" You swallowed, praying to God this wasn't some mistake.

His wine-flushed face answered your question with no response.

"We shouldn't...I'm not--," He bit his cheek at his own restraint, brow tight with regret at his own actions from earlier.

You nodded, a little buzzed yourself, and laughed at his concern, "I'm okay with just kissing."

my masterlist.

requests are open!

[copperbadge]

Hello! I live in Chicago but didn’t grow up in the Midwest. The tornado sirens recently really freaked me out, but it seems most Chicagoans were just going about their business. Is there a way for me to know when stuff is about to get serious and I should actually run and hide? I was scared and checking the news, but with everyone else acting normal it felt like overkill. Any advice appreciated!! Thank you!!!!

I actually didn't grow up here either! But I have been in Chicago for about fifteen years now, so I guess I can speak with reasonable authority.

The sirens are for tornadoes, though they have also been set off for high winds, bad storms, etc. They are tested at ten in the morning on the first Tuesday of each month, so a lot of us are conditioned to hear them and think "Must be ten am". I've only ever heard them "for real" a handful of times but I've always paid attention. Probably what you were witnessing was people just...incorrectly not giving a shit.

So, first off: if you hear a siren, get inside. Don't worry about what anyone else is doing. Most people will look around and go "nobody else is freaking out so I guess I don't need to" and that's how you end up dead of Insufficiently Freaking Out. The trick is proportionate freaking out. You want to get inside to safety -- a store, the lobby of an office building or hotel, the nearest El stop, even a car or bus is better than being out on foot. If you can get there safely, go home, that's best, but if you can't get home, get indoors. Once you're in safe shelter you can pretty much stop freaking out unless a storm is actively hitting the building. Take the time to check your phone, figure out how to get home if you aren't, check weather apps to see how long it'll last, etc.

It's not impossible that a tornado would make its way into Chicago, but most of the time when weathermen say "Chicago" they mean "the suburbs". The city itself is so built up, and the lake has such an impact on that kind of thing, that it's unlikely, at least currently. If you are not in a suburb or on the outskirts, the odds of an actual facts tornado are pretty slim. That said, Chicago is subject to high winds at times and the sirens can be set off for that, and high winds in Chicago are no joke.

So for me, the siren is a "stay indoors" warning; the one time I heard it while outside, I didn't freak out, but I did stop what I was doing, turn around, and go home. If you're indoors then you can turn your worry down low, though it doesn't hurt to have the weather on the TV. Just as a matter of course, living in the world, you should have a battery-powered lantern or flashlight and know where it is, make sure your phone is charged or start charging it, and keep an eye on the TV.

If you DO need to get to heavy shelter because a genuine disaster is happening on top of you, it's good to know where to go. You don't generally need to hang out in the shelter pre-emptively unless the weather reporter says to, but it helps a lot to know your options. Most high-rise buildings, office and residential, you want to go to the stairwell; they're reinforced and ventilated. If you're in a house that doesn't have a storm cellar or an apartment like my old one, that was just "top floor of a three-floor walkup", go to an interior room without windows, preferably the bathroom, and get into the empty bathtub.

It's tough to strike a balance between necessary caution and anxious overreaction, and I say that as an anxious over-reactor. But the longer you live here the better your sense will be of what is a genuine emergency. I think it took me about two winters here to get a sense of proportion. Occasional murderous heat waves aside, most of our truly dangerous weather happens December-March, so that's good training in when to wig out.

But yeah -- if you're out in the world and you hear a siren, or you see smoke, or you get a bad vibe somewhere, it is okay, encouraged even, to hit the bricks. Don't wait to see what other people do, don't tell anyone else what to do, just be the person everyone else sees and thinks "Hey, maybe I should be concerned about this."

I once walked onto the northbound platform of the Grand Red Line station when it was actively on fire. I looked around at the smoke and the people casually standing in the smoke waiting for their train, went "Fuck all this noise, I'm not dying for a Red Line train," and went right back out again. Roughly half of the stand-arounds saw me heading purposefully for the stairs and started following me; I had just reached street level again when we heard the evacuation order over the loudspeakers. People make dumb choices until they see someone making a smart one.

ANYWAY IDK how long you've been in Chicago but if you're relatively new, welcome, that kind of shit doesn't happen very often I swear, and if you've been here for a while, sorry for overexplaining. :D I am just very into the idea everyone staying safe and paying attention to the sirens. :D

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Hii there, Do you watch anime by any chance? Have you watched that new anime called Dandadan? I got this idea in my head after watching episode 1 and it really cracked me up.

What about some scenarios with the fellswap bros, mal and mutt, with a reader who challenged them to go with them to a haunted place where ghosts are rumored to reside. And when they went there, the bros meet the ghost first. How would the skellies react???

Thanks much!

Heyy traveler!! I do watch anime some times, though I haven't seen Dandadan yet. I hope this ended up as you expected!

For some reason I decided to make the ghosts an old couple just because?? Idk wanted to tell y'all that :3

I made it platonic btw, hope you don't mind!

Featuring: Mal and Mutt

Masterlist

Mal

"Come on Mal! It'll be fun!"

Mal rolls his eyes as he cuts some vegetables, you've been bugging him all week to go to a "haunted house", it was rumored that the old residents were murdered and stayed in the house to hunt whoever dares to enter their residence. For Mal it was all bulshit, but you wouldn't shut up about it, and if there's something Mal loves more than cooking is proving some they're wrong.

So he agreed, and to make it more "scary", he decided to go at 3 am, did he just fuck his perfect sleep schedule to prove someone wrong? Yes.

He didn't even wait for you to arrive, Mal simply walked inside without any worry, grabbing his phone and started recording.

"See (_____)? There's No Such Thing As A Ghost Here!"

"Uh excuse me young man..?"

"Whaaaaaaa-"

Mal's jaw dropped as a not familiar old face appeared behind him.

"May you please speak a bit quieter..?"

"AHHHHHHH (_____) GET ME OUT OF HERE!!"

The skeleton screamed while holding the phone and ran to the exit, stopping once he was outside and catching his breath. The ghost of an old lady stayed behind looking confused with a yarn ball on her hands.

"People these days.."

Mutt

"I'll go-"

A smile started forming in your face.

"- As long as you're going with me.."

"Deal!"

After a long, long time you've finally convinced your friend Mutt to go to a haunted house, he refused to go on Halloween so it may seem like you two are crazy to enter an abandoned house in the middle of the night? Maybe, but who cares again?

"Here we are!"

As you walked inside, Mutt walked right behind you, holding onto your jacket, any creak and noise seemed to scare him, since he was looking behind his back.. just to make sure..

"I don't think this was a good idea (_____)"

No response.

"(_____)?"

He turns his head to where you were, did he let go of you and you didn't notice? Oh no no no, he turned his head to every side possible while panicking.

"(_____)!? Where are you!?"

"Are you looking for someone, young man?"

Mutt stopped and looked behind him, seeing a blueish-transparent old man staring at him.

"AHHH (_____)!!"

He cried for you as he ran in whatever direction his body was pointed at, almost tripping and falling in the way.

"Mutt?"

He stops at his tracks and looks at you, charging at you full force, wrapping his arms and legs around your body like a pillow and making you two fall to the ground.

"(_____)!! I-i was so scared don't leave me like this never ever again!!"

You look at the doorway, seeing the same man who Mutt saw moments ago, staring at the both of you with a concerned expression .

"Excuse me, is your friend okay? Does he need something? A cup of water with sugar maybe?"

"Uuuuh o-oh no, no, he's okay now..?"

"Alright then, there's an exit next to the kitchen.."

The man's raspy voice is the last thing you hear before he disappears, you sign and grab one of Mutt's cold hands, walking towards what the man told you was an exit, when you two are out of the house, the skeleton drops to the ground, grabbing grass with his arms like he was giving the dirt a hug.

"Please remind me never to come here ever again.."

[bluesest]

Hello. I had an idea for a while. A guy named Jorge with a plump bubble butt unknowingly ingested dairy when he's lactose intolerant and suffers nasty explosive diarrhea all day and shits himself at least three times in the same day.

A Lactose Distract

Jorge was a young sportsman and independent, he lives alone so he takes care of the household chores such as cleaning, cooking and shopping.

Every end of the month, Jorge goes to a supermarket where he is in charge of buying groceries from home, he made sure that they have enough protein to maintain and grow his muscle mass even more, he had barely been in a local gym for a month and his muscles were still not marked, He always thought the gym would be the same as sports, but he found it even harder to see results, aware that it only takes a short time for him to expect more from his body.

He concentrated on taking foods such as red meat and fish, great foods to support his development, or well, that's what his coach told him, another food was dairy that helped by providing calcium, however, he could not afford to eat this type of food because he was lactose intolerant.

Jorge struggled with this problem since he was a teenager, one of his habits was to eat ice cream every Sunday but little by little this generated problems: first gas that gained a terrible smell and that used to last a long time, then stomach pains such as colic and finally an incredible desire to evacuate his bowels, he remembered how one of those days when trying to fart he literally shit himself with thick and bad diarrhea This problem continued until his lactose intolerance was detected, and from that moment on, Jorge dedicated himself to taking care of his diet.

He used a dairy replacement, i.e., lactose-free products such as lactose-free milk, among others. Whenever he went shopping, he made sure to check his milk cartons and read his labels. 

This specific day he bought 3 cartons of lactose-free milk, next to him was an old woman who bought regular milk, she left her shopping cart next to Jorge's while he was distracted by seeing a sign with the week's offers, the old woman got confused about her cart and took Jorge's (both shopping carts only carried milk cartons).

Jorge turned to look at his new cart and confidently did not check its contents, ready to continue with the shopping day. An hour passed and he was already paying when the first warning flashed, the milk had an irregular price, that is, cheaper, but he did not give it importance and thought that it was just an offer that he did not realize existed.

He came home and restocked his fridge with all the food he bought, sat down to watch TV, and fell fast asleep.

After a three-hour nap Jorge got hungry, he took cereal with milk and helped himself to two dishes, they had a different flavor, a sweeter one, but again he didn't think about it, he thought: "Maybe now they put more sugar in this cereal"

An alarm distracted him from his thoughts, it was his digital hand watch, it only meant one thing: his daily jog to the park. He dressed in black leggings and a gray shirt, grabbed his phone and headphones, and jogged out of his house, but without first making himself a milkshake to drink in the park and relax.

He reached the halfway point when he stopped, ignored the music on his phone and closed his eyes: *GRRRRRRRRRRRRR* that was the sound that generated his stomach, it was so loud that Jorge managed to hear it even with his headphones on, took his arm and began to feel his stomach.

"Ufffffffffff, what was that? Am I hungrier? It's a good thing I save my milkshake for problems like these."

He took his thermos out of a small bag he was carrying and finished taking it all in one sip, his stomach stopped his annoying noises and Jorge decided to continue with his daily jog.

When he arrived at the park his stomach rumbled again, but this time a small pain invaded his body, he stopped and this time he turned off his headphones and put them away, put his hands on his hip and looked at the sky closing his eyes: "I don't think it's hunger... I've already eaten a lot in a very short time, but my stomach feels so bad..."

His back bent and he bent down keeping his hands on his hips and his eyes closed *GGGRRRRRR* "What's happening to me... I'm sweating a lot...?" he lifted his head *GRGRGGRGRGR* "I feel... Feel... something inside my stomach, could it be...?" he opened his eyes and relaxed his stomach... *pftftfftft* "uuggghhhh, I had a fart stuck *GRGRGGGRRRR* and I think I have another one... *PPFFTTFTFpfptptf* this one was even worse, ufffffff yes it sucks *GRGRGRGGRRGR* Oh no, here comes a big one"

*PFPPPTFPTPPTPTFTPF* *PRPRRPPSPSS* *PFFFTT*

Time froze, Jorge opened his eyes as wide as he could and led his left arm to his stomach and his right to his bubble butt, it was real, the unthinkable happened, an adult shit his pants:

"Oh no no no no, how could this happen? What should I do? I didn't even feel like going to the bathroom!"

*GGGRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

"But now I can feel it."

He repositioned his arms and running with all his might fled the park, he didn't want people to find out what happened through the terrible smell that enveloped his body, from afar you couldn't visualize any stain thanks to the dark color of the leggings, however, if you pay attention you can see a small lumpy bulge on the back of the tight pants.

*GGRGRGRGGRGRGRGRGR* *GRGRGGRGRGRGR*

"Not again, please!"

*PFPPFPFFPFPTPTPTPTPTPTPTPTFPF*

"UGH"

*PRRRRRRRRR*

"I don't understand, that I could have eaten enough for this to happen to me, I hadn't shit my pants since I was a teenager!"

*GRRRRRRRRRGRGGRGRGRGRGRGR*

Sweating and with his tired legs he managed to visualize his house in the distance, when he touched his garden he felt an annoying stomach pain that prevented him from continuing running, Jorge felt that the shit was approaching his back door trying to knock it down and come outside, with each movement the rancid mixture turned and hit Jorge's large intestine.

He took the same position as before, one arm to his stomach and the other to his butt to apply pressure to prevent his underpants from ending up in a big mess and shaking, Jorge grabbed the keys to his house and quickly opened the front door.

"I must get there, I can't hold on, WHY THE HELL DID THEY BUILD THE BATHROOM BY GOING UPSTAIRS?! ugghhhhhh"

*PFTFTFTFTFTFTTFTTFTTFTF*

Climbing the stairs was quite a challenge, his diarrhea was struggling to get out and his tense and tired muscles were not strong enough to try to climb the stairs by jumping or running, but despite this Jorge managed to reach the top and dazzle the open bathroom door.

He arrived, left his bathroom door open, pulled down his tight leggings and underpants with various proofs of the stomach mess, and sat down on the neat, clean porcelain. 

*PPFFPPTPPTFPTPFTPPTPFPTPPPPT* *PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP* *SQHHSHQSSHHQSQHSHHSHSQHSQHSQHSQ* *PFFTTFTFTFTFTFT* 

Jorge lived alone, so he didn't limit himself to containing whatever was wrong with his stomach.

*PRPPRLLLTLTLTLTLLTLTLTLTLT* *BRLLARRSRASAPPAPPAPPAPPAPPABRLRLRLRR* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PLOP* *PLOP*

"Oh it can't be, what did I eat enough for this to happen to me?, and why right in the park?!"

*BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *SQUASHSHHSSHSHSHSSS* *GRRRRR* *PFFFFFFTTFTFTFTTF* *PRPRPRPRSQHBQHSHSQHHSQHQHQ* *SHHHHHHHHHHH*

"Oh... no, something is coming..."

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR* *HQSHSHSHQHSHQSHQ* *BKERKEBRKBEBEKEKLREEEEE* *RRRRRRRRPSSSSSSSSTRTRTTRR* *PFFFTTT* *PLOP* *PFFTFTFTFTFTFTTF* *PLOP*

"Aghhhh, I think I'm done"

Jorge took a large piece of toilet paper, folded it and slowly and carefully passed it on his burning butt, and before throwing the first piece away, Jorge stood up with his butt in the air and looked down in the toilet, the accumulated fecal material was disgusting, thick and full of lumps with a dark brown color, Jorge could swear he saw a bubble.

He sat back down and finished his work by using up half a roll of paper, flushed the toilet and left the stinking bathroom, leaving the door open for the rotten smell to disappear.

He sat down on the couch in his living room and grabbed a washcloth to wipe his sweat: "What the hell was that, I hadn't felt bad in the morning, I watch my diet, is it something in my trainer's new diet?"

*GRRRRRRRRRRR*

"Oh! My stomach is really burning inside."

*PFFFTTTT* *GRRRRRR*

"I'm so gassy, ugh, I think a nap wouldn't hurt me..."

*PPFFFFFFFFFTTTTT*

"And so I think my stomach is going to relax."

Jorge went back up the stairs with his hands massaging his stomach, he undressed, got to his room and lay down dropping on the bed, closing his eyes and with one last fart his mind shut down closing his eyes.

2 hours later...

*GRRRRRRRRRRR*

Jorge opened his eyes in a cold sweat, lifted his back and massaged his stomach again, the great pain and stomach roars lifted him, the sweat consumed him covering every part of his body especially his big butt and between legs.

Jorge looked down to see his weakened stomach, but something underneath alarmed him, he pulled his butt away and saw something terrifying: a giant brown stain covering the white blankets of his beloved bed.

Jorge was going to scream until a stabbing pain came over him:

*GGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGGRG*

"Oh God!"

He jumped up from his bed and ran naked to his bathroom without success because little by little wet gases came out of him, staining his ass more with dry shit:

*PPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTTF*

*BRBRBRBRBRBBR* *PFPFPTPTPFTPTT*

*PRRRRRRRPFFTFTF*

"I can feel melted lava mixing with trash inside my rectum!"

Almost slipping, Jorge reached the prized toilet which retains the smell and small brown marks marked on the porcelain from the previous visit to his bathroom.

And with his butt stained, he sat down and freed his stomach a second time:

*PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTFTFTTFTFTFTTFTFTGFTTF* *HQHSHQHHQSHHSQHSQHSQ* *PRPRPRPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *SHSHHSHSHSHPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTSQQASGGSSSAS* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *BLRLRLRLRLRLRLRLRLRPRRRRR*

"AHHHHHHH, how is this a possible thing?"

*HSHSHSHSHSHSHSQHHSQSQSS* *FFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTRRRRRRRR* *PSPSPSTGHGHGHGHGHGHG* *DRDRDRGRRRRR* *RRRRRRRRRRHRHRHRHHRHHR* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTTFTTFTFFTTF*

Jorge turned his head back, his forehead swam in sweat and his butt was quite sore, there must be a cause for all this, it's not normal diarrhea he wondered until he remembered the cereal he ate:

"It could be..."

*BLRLRLRLTTTRTRTRTTRTR* *POPFTFTFTTFTFTF* *TRTRTRTRTTRTRTRTRTRT* *SHSHHSHSHSHSHSHSHS*

"I have to investigate... But first I need a bath."

Jorge got up from the toilet which thanks to the sweat combined with the dried shit of his butt left stains all over the lid, his clean toilet now looked like one that belongs to a gas station in the middle of the desert where only greasy truckers go.

He took two steps and entered the bathtub, relaxed and let the clean water cover his body replacing the sweat and shit, brown water accumulated and disappeared on Jorge's feet and with a sigh of relief he dried himself with a soft towel and left the tub without first farting.

"I don't think this will end anytime soon..."

He went downstairs when again he felt the pain of an approaching diarrhea, but this did not stop him, he reached the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, checked the cereal and there was nothing strange about it, this gave him a clue to the origin of the problem, Jorge refused to think what he thought it was and bravely took one of the cartons of milk and the news did not hit him, literally:

*GRGRGRGRGRGRGRGRRGRGRGRG*

"So this is responsible for the diarrhea I have!"

*GRGRGRGRGGRGRGRGRGGRGRGRGRGGRGRGRGRGRRR*

"I can't believe it! How did it happen?"

*GRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFFFTFTFTFTFTF*

"I must throw away all this milk... and... I MUST GO TO THE BATHROOM."

Jorge dropped the carton of milk spilling on the floor, with both hands he held his bare butt and started running with all his might:

*PFPPTPTPPTPFPPTPTPTF*

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

*PPFPTPTPPPFTPPPPPT*

"Come on, stay inside, don't explode!"

He climbed the stairs, but a misstep eventually led him to lose his strength and:

*SPLASH* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *HQSHHQSHSH*

Jorge shit on the stairs, his ass exploded spilling thick brown lava, he was embarrassed, but he still continued on his way letting drops of liquid shit leak out of his tight and strong ass that tried to prevent more shit from staining the stairs without any success.

Walking like a penguin, Jorge finally got to the bathroom, he saw that the toilet lid was still stained, he didn't have time to clean it, but he doesn't have time to clean it now, he slowly put his butt in the dirty toilet and relaxed:

*SQUSQHUSQHHQSHSQUAHSHASHSAHUASASSSJHSSHSHSH* *TRTRTRTTRTRTRTTTTTTRTRTRTRTRTRR* *PFPTPFFPPPTPFPTPFPTPFPPTT* *BRLRLRLRRBRLRLRRRRR* *PTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT*

"AAAAHHHHHH WHY?"

*FPPTPPTPPFPFPPTTPFFPT* *PSJSJQJSJASPALSSPLASH* *FFFFFFFTTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *BRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRB* *GRGGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGR*

"Personal note, check purchases before paying... AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH"

*BRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP* "PRPPRPRPRPRPRPRP" *SHHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHHS* *TRTRTRTRT* *LRBRRLBTLRLRLTRTLLTB*

"I think ... Forget it!"

*PFTFTFTFTFTFT* *GRGRGRGRGRGRGGRRRRRR* *HDHJQHHJHQDDJHDDH* *PLOP* *SQHQSHHQSHQSQSQ* *TOC* *PLOP* *TLOC* *PFTFTFTFTFTTFTFTFTFTFT*

After 30 minutes Jorge was finally able to get up and set out to clean his bathroom and stairs being interrupted by occasional diarrhea, when everything calmed down he threw the milk in the trash.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 33)

Tw: mentions of rape and molestation, Evangeline's insanity

Part 34

You sighed. Looking up at the white ceiling as the smell of antiseptic stings your nose.

Your landlord came by earlier to hand you your phone charger as per Yves's request. He avoided your eyes as he asked about your general wellbeing. Perhaps he felt guilty for letting one of his tenants go through such brutality. Or maybe Yves tore him another one for failing to protect you. Quite frankly, you do not know, neither do you care.

You gave him polite but short answers. You don't feel like talking to anyone now, not even Yves. It feels like the whole world is judging you and criticizing what you could have done.

He was nice, he even charged your phone for you. It's not like you could do it yourself, hooked on all kinds of antibiotic drips and wires. Not to mention, your leg cast.

You were wondering about Evangeline's hygiene, how did you get this infected from a couple of bites and scratches? Well. Whatever it was, you're glad shes just not here.

You did blame yourself for confronting her. Because if she didn't know that there was an issue between you and her, she wouldn't have paid you a visit.

But it was hard to say what her reaction would have been when Mr. Jones confronted her about the molestation in his car.

It felt like a courtroom with no jury in your head. You have a part of yourself prosecuting your being, while the other defending it. It's noisy and exhausting. You had no idea how to quieten it down.

You turned your head to the sound of your phone.

You reached towards it and checked what has set off the notification alerts. The cable is still attached to its charging port.

You received a voicemail from a number you didn't recognize.

"Sweetheart. It's me, Montgomery. I-I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I.." You heard him choke back tears. "That was fucking disgusting of her. It was so much worse than I first thought- I'm so fucking sorry I couldn't be there to protect ya', I shouldn't have trusted- I-I-"

You were confused at the sudden breakdown. He wasn't that distressed the last time you saw him, why is he crying as if he went through it instead?

You listen to him sob in anguish.

"...I couldn't get a hold of ya' through my old number. I had to get another one. Please call me back as soon as ya' can."

The message abruptly ended there.

You blocked this number too.

Frowning, did Yves tell him your business? That seems unlikely of him, you refused to believe that he would do such a thing. Then, who else did he...

The group chat with your housemates is blowing up.

Oh. The news got ahold of your story. Well that makes sense.

Even though you weren't identified, it was clear the news segment was about your horrific assault.

Some of your housemates were complaining that Yves told them not to speak with the media. And thankfully, they didn't.

There was very limited information given to the public as it seems like Yves is trying to control what others can know. The majority of the details were given by Evangeline herself. To your relief, she was held without bail.

From what you understood, she wasted her one call in jail to speak with news outlets. She didn't call her father, her mother or a lawyer. Evangeline admitted that she raped you in such a brutal matter, not leaving a single detail unsaid.

The article anonymized all the names she dropped, but you can guess she mentioned Montgomery and Yves at some point.

It was sickening, Evangeline told them that she's masturbating in jail to the thought of you. When asked what was her reasoning behind her atrocious acts, she replied that you were her greatest reward in life. She 'deserved' you for being your 'savior'. It was unclear what she meant.

They asked if she had any remorse for what she did. Evangeline went ahead and told them her only goal is to get out of prison just to fuck you day and night. You consumed her entire thought and you have to pay for it.

Evangeline claimed that she 'loves' you. You just didn't know what was good for you and it is her mission to fix that. She also hated you for throwing her away just like everyone else. Then again, she loved how you felt against her, so you were 'forgiven'.

You didn't get it. What was wrong with her? She seems so normal and fine, yet she's still trying to induce nightmares in you even when she's held in a cell.

You read on and saw that her parents refused to comment. However, it's mentioned that Evangeline was suspected to be too mentally unsound to stand trial. They have yet to evaluate her psychology, but judging on her unhinged reaction after all this, you think she is very likely to plead insanity and be sent to a mental facility instead of prison.

The University retracted her scholarship and expelled her. She must have thought that there was nothing left to lose, that is why she went all out in the impromptu interview.

You shuddered and stopped reading, not being able to stomach the mention of Evangeline anymore.

You wiped away tears from the hilt of your palm. Suddenly yearning for some company.

What a coincidence, Yves called you. Immediately, you picked it up.

"(name)..." His voice was soft and sympathetic.

You cried. You let everything out to Yves. It was hard to form a sentence, but you tried. It came out as incoherent garbles as you choked on your own tears. Nothing you said made sense to you, it did to Yves.

He listened. Letting his own droplets roll down his cheeks too. Yves knew there isn't anything he could say now to make you feel better. You heard it all before. The apologies, the assurances, the hatred towards your perpetrator... it became meaningless to you.

It's time for you to speak instead.

He knows you just wanted someone to be there for you.

And he will stay on the line as long as you need.

Yves's tears splashed onto his papers, creating ugly stains and smudging his blue ink around. Rendering some words as unreadable.

[mr2swap]

"hocus pocus"

-Old man!! I've been looking everywhere for you! What the fuck did you do to my phone or why can't you answer one of my fucking calls? Fuck! and you even blocked me from Instagram!-

I was finally going to get rid of this from my grandfather Jackson's body, it was the longest week of my life! Two weeks ago I was cursed by that fucking witch who fucked me when I was drunk at a college party, I'll never have more than one girlfriend in my entire life! I'll be a single guy for a while!

For a couple of years, I'm living with my grandfather, when I started university I had to move in with him my parents couldn't afford an apartment for me so my grandfather offered to stay in my dad's old room, that would be great I didn't I would have to pay nothing and I could dedicate myself to going to the gym full time! I won a football scholarship! And the semester hadn't started in a long time, for me every day was amazing, well I was doing bad in most of my classes but besides that everything was great in my life before I got cursed by that bitch!

She met my grandfather once I brought her home to fuck her in my room, in fact, he was there too when he threw his "hocus pocus" on me and my grandfather, finally, I will stop being a bag of farts! after begging him every day to return to my body he finally agreed to change us back!

Hey Josh! You came at the right time! I was about to get out of the water- my grandfather slowly got out of the pool and stretched out his long legs to remove the rest of the chlorine from the collection as he modeled some pretty flashy blue shorts that I would swear are brand new I would never wear something that small!

-Get changed quickly in the car, we're going to go to Jessica's house so she can reverse this and finally get everything back to normal.- Before drying off with the small towel I had on the edge of the pool I grab what used to be my phone, text for 2 minutes, and completely ignore myself.

-sorry for screwing you at first! This is the best thing that could have happened in my life

My grandfather pulled those tiny shorts down to his knees and with the same towel began to dry between my balls and on my butt. After he threw that same towel my face slowly dressed in my black pants AND that new jacket he wears everywhere.

-I'm not going to waste any more time with this lie, I'm not going back to that garbage bag I used to call a body, don't worry about college I'm out of that shit anyway with your GPA you were probably going to fail the whole year! -

-Whatever! We can talk about it in the car but I really need you to get in right now!-He finished getting dressed and looked up and down in the mirror on my cell phone to fix his hair and I suspect take some pictures.

-I know you'll do well! you know my credit card number and the government sends me my pension every day, forgive me for the last charge of the motorcycle, I will send you money as soon as I settle in another city.-

I had almost forgotten what it was like to be young and not overweight and over 70 years old, now I saw the slim and muscular body and a lot of lustful thoughts invaded my mind.

I should be angry but the curse fucks my mind more every day. I couldn't take my eyes off his chest and abs sticking out of his jacket as he got on the parked motorcycle.

-I know that now I'm not very smart but one of my new admirers says that I could earn a lot of money on the internet and that I could even leave all this shit behind, don't worry I'll be the one to contact you.-

-I know that in all aspects my body is shit! But I hope you enjoy your little dick as much as you can, I know it can be very sensitive if you touch it in the right place, believe me, you'll like it- I couldn't answer him because after saying that he started the motorcycle.

What am I supposed to do now? Well… Probably the first thing I should do is take this towel to a more private place, I'm sure it still has a bit of the smell on it!

Hey! You can support me to continue creating stories, see similar stories on my patreon, you can also join my discord if you are interested in role-playing about bodyswap, possession and transformation, m2m!

[whitenoisefanfiction]

Did I just write a Hannibal/Squid Game crossover reincarnation short fic? Yes, yes I did. Why? Because reasons.

I can't help it that the Front Man reminds me so much of Dr Lecter and Gi-hun is so Will Graham coded (even if I didn't get around to bringing Gi-hun into this story yet)

So this was written fast with absolutly no chill or spell and grammar check and is terribly OOC. Now I am posting it here because I cannot think of a title to post it on AO3. Fic titles are my mortal enemy.

Read if you dare.

-----

If asked, Hwang In-ho would tell anyone that he didn't believe in reincarnation. In fact, if asked later in his life if he believed, he would have probably had the one asking beaten, if not shot. As the Front Man in charge of the Games which had an international reach and money beyond anyone's wildest dreams, he needed to be practical, smart and could not be fooled by silly superstitions. But in private, it was a different matter.

In-ho did believe in reincarnation. In fact, he was sure he himself was the product of such a practice. 

It had happened suddenly, the realisation he had lived before. When the first dreams came, all the way back in 2015. 

They had started the very night he had received Oh Il-nam’s offer to rejoin the Games, not as a competitor this time, but as the Games Master. The one pulling the strings.

In-ho had initially been disgusted by the offer. Despite his loss, he had still been a man of principles and even though he now had blood on his hands, the blood of his fellow competitors from his own game, he still tried to cling to that one small shred of goodness he believed was within him. Tried to ignore the rush of power he had felt at the game's conclusion only a few short months prior, knowing he was the lone survivor and winner.

He had taken the offered business card, the armed guards at the old man's back the only reason he had maintained a polite composure and hadn't lashed out after being cornered. They had managed to locate him in the dark streets of Seoul while he had been walking aimlessly, his life a mess now that his one goal, to keep his wife alive, had failed. In-ho knew then, he hadn’t escaped. They knew where he was. He was still in hell. 

In-ho had tried not to hear the old man's subtle comments about his eyes being those of a killer, of being a man with a peculiar experience. Rejected the offer and ignored the way the old man laughed at the answer, stating that he would be allowed a few days to reconsider. 

“You have been here before.” The old man had said as a parting comment. “I am curious what you will do with your second chance.”

In-ho had ignored the statement at the time, brushing it off as similar to the unusual comments the man had made when they had first met during the games, back when he had appeared to be a frail older contestant, unlikely to survive the trials they faced. 

In-ho had taken some pity on him, back in the games, fooled by the mask. He hadn’t exactly been kind, snapping and pushing the old man when he realised danger was near but he had tried to protect the man at least a little. He couldn’t be a police officer if he had turned his back on someone asking for help.

And that seemed to have been his curse. The reason Il-nam seemed to favour him, enough to make such an offer. 

Head spinning from the confrontation, In-ho had made his way home, card shoved hurriedly into his pocket, only to be taken out again once he stumbled through the door so it could be thrown on the table. 

In-ho had pointedly ignored it. If he was being watched, he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing him contemplate their insane offer. 

Instead, he had curled up on his too large bed, ignoring his phone which rang constantly as his brother desperately called him and tried to think of anything except for the memory of the fearful eyes looking up at him, the other competitor who had tried so hard to kill him. Tried to think of anything except the strange feeling of pleasure as he felt his attacker's life slip away under his hands. Of the blood money in his bank account, untouched, tainted. 

The dream hadn't felt right either. Instead of slipping slowly into sleep, it had come on suddenly. One moment, In-ho was laying on the cold bed, wishing for everything to change and the next, he was slowly rising from a chair at the sound of footsteps. Standing, In-ho turned to look at his surroundings. A small, sparsely furnished room, more like a cell than a home. But the strange thing was the wall. One of them seemed to be made of glass. He was inside it, like he was on display. An animal, turning tricks for an audience.  

The footsteps drew near and then a man stepped out of the shadows and into view.

He was a westerner, so like the tourists who crowded the streets of Seoul. He was dressed in a shirt and jeans. Comfortable, yet cheap clothing. His dark curls hung limply over his face, partly hiding his eyes and yet, In-ho could feel them on him.

There was something about this man. Sometimes that made In-ho’s cheat ache but he didn't know why. Without thinking, In-ho stepped towards the glass which separated him from the man. 

He noticed how the man trembled slightly, like a frightened rabbit before he caught himself, tensing up and ready to fight. A prey animal suddenly turned predator. 

“Hello Will.” A voice said. 

In-ho heard the voice. He felt it slip from his own throat and yet, it was not his voice. Not his language.

In-ho knew only a little bit of English. He had picked it up over the years but he had never been even close to fluent and would never resort to it as a first language. So why had he said those words in English? Why had he addressed the westerner in that manner? 

The man didn't seem surprised by the greeting, unlike In-ho. Instead, his gaze finally met In-ho's, and In-ho found himself gazing at the most intense stare he had ever seen. 

A mixture of emotions rushed through his body, In-ho struggling to identify them all. Joy, longing, amusement, lust. All of them crashed down on him. And in the man's eyes, he recognised a similar storm. The man was just as caught up in his emotions. 

This man, whoever he was, was important. Important enough that In-ho knew he would kill for this man. Had killed for him. A measly human life was nothing if it meant having this man's gaze on him always.

The man hesitated for a moment before breaking his gaze. 

“Hannibal” He replied, also in English and the tone was music to In-ho's ears. And In-ho remembered the sharp feeling of hot blood on his hands. Of fresh meat between his teeth. A satisfaction of knowing a pig had been slaughtered and there was a game afoot.

In-ho woke with a gasp, his mind whirling.

What had that dream been?

In-ho didn't know, but rather than feel disgusted, he felt intrigued. Why was the feeling of blood, of death, suddenly so attractive? Why did he suddenly feel like he could gain the man's attention, if only he was creative enough?

In-ho didn't know what was happening to him but the ghost of those feelings clung to him like a second skin. The desire, not just to kill, but to impress. To show his true colours. 

In-ho caught himself? What was he thinking? He had just escaped hell and lost his beloved wife and child. He may have been dismissed from his employment but he was still a law abiding man, a former officer of the law. He had seen death close up and never felt anything but revulsion and pity. He had lived through hell, fighting his way out with his bare hands and never experienced a single moment of joy in it. Why now, did the idea of murder excite him? 

And why has that dream felt so real? So right? 

Had it even been a dream or had he seen something otherworldly?

In-ho knew something had shifted inside him. A small part had changed and was continuing to change, as if his soul had taken on something new.

The man with the intense gaze. In-ho wanted, no, needed to find him. To somehow speak to him and understand him. 

But how could he do that? He was a poor man in Korea. Yes, he had just won billions but he had no connections, no ability to find one westerner. He had no idea where these men had even been when this conversation took place. And more to the point, why was he suddenly assuming these men, who had been figments of a dream, were real?

How was he supposed to find out? 

And yet, he did have a contact available. Someone who had vast powers and could maybe give him answers. He wasn’t ignorant of that. But to do that was to possibly sell his soul to the devil. 

Glancing over at the table where he had dumped the card, he thought for a long time about what he could do. 

Days passed as he contemplated his next move, hidden away in his home. He ignored Jun-ho’s arrival, his little brother frantically knocking at the locked door and shouting his name until the brat was finally asked to leave by the landlord. He ignored the phone calls from his peers and friends, trying to find out if he was ok. Ignored his desire to eat or sleep as he replayed the dream in his mind, becoming more and more convinced it was more than a dream.

Finally, on the third day of his self imposed lockdown, he cracked. 

Rising to his feet, he grabbed the card and his phone, carefully dialing the number. 

He hadn’t managed to get any words out when the call was picked up, the voice on the other end stating a time and place before hanging up again. 

It should have been enough to make In-ho wary, but the fatigue of the last few days had left him mentally drained. Instead, he had gathered his coat and the card and left his apartment, making his way to the location. 

A limo had been waiting for him, the masked pink guards outside. One of them had nodded before opening the door to the vehicle for him, indicating for him to climb in. 

In-ho had done so without protest, slipping into the luxurious vehicle. 

As he had guessed, Il-nam had been seated in the vehicle already, looking calm and relaxed, compared to In-ho’s frazzled mind. The old man had smiled, a deceptively warm smile but In-ho wasn’t fooled. 

“What do you mean, I have been here before?” He asked, ignoring the slight to his elder by failing to wait for a proper greeting or address in honorifics. Il-nam hadn’t seemed offended, and even gave an amused smile at In-ho’s behaviour. 

“I mean what I said. You have been here before.”

“Of course I have. It’s Seoul. I grew up here.” In-ho snapped back. 

The old man chuckled, shaking his head slightly. 

“You deliberately mis-understand. I mean you have walked this earth before. A different face. A  different life but the same person.”

In-ho frowned. Although he wanted answers, he wanted them straight, not riddles for Il-nam’s amusement. 

“You are reborn. I saw it in the games. You were a husk then. An empty house waiting for its owner to move in and make it a home. But now, when I look at you…” The man stared deep into In-ho’s eyes. “Hello new friend. I hope you are enjoying your stay here.”

In-ho frowned. 

“You are insane.” He stated, reaching for the door. As much as he wanted answers, wanted help to find the westerner who had haunted his dreams, he was not going to put up with this, being made into a joke for the old man. He was no longer in the game and did not have to continue to amuse him. 

“If I am insane, then please answer this one last question before you decide to depart.” Il-nam said. 

In-ho growled under his breath before turning back to the man, feeling a sudden urge to kill him with his bare hands.

“Fine. And after, you will leave me alone. Never contact me again or ask me to work for you.” He replied, hand still resting on the handle of the door. 

Il-nam nodded. 

“I have been looking into you. Researching your history, even before you joined my games. You were born and raised in Korea, have never even left the country before. No real experiences of other cultures. So tell me, why have you been speaking fluent French to me this whole time?”

In-ho froze. Quickly, he replayed the conversation in his head. 

Il-nam hadn’t been lying. But how? In-ho have never learnt French. Never even had a desire to. And yet, somehow he knew it. Knew it well enough that he had been able to slip into it without trying. 

“I can imagine you are very confused, friend. The old part of you trying to understand this new person you are becoming. Two separate people merging into one.” Il-nam said, sliding forward on his seat to better gaze at the younger man. “I want to help you. All I ask is you help me in return. And maybe we can find out who you used to be.”

In-ho had been reluctant at first, unsure about joining forces with the man who had put him through hell but with no other options to get answers, he had finally agreed and entered a world which was both familiar, terrifying and thrilling. 

Il-nam had explained the concept. It had been something he had studied over his lifetime, and if he wasn’t lying, something he had been studying over multiple lifetimes. When someone died with unfinished business, they could take on a new body to continue their work. In-ho had been somewhat familiar with the concept. Reincarnation was a fairly common belief in some parts of the country, especially amongst the elderly. But he had always thought it required someone to be reborn into a new infant body. He was an adult, in his early 40s. How could he have gone so long and not known this until now? But Il-nam laughed when he had said as much, explaining that reincarnation required a compatible mind and body, not an age limit.

In-ho had reluctantly accepted the explanation as he continued to explore the idea in between his work, learning how to run the games as per their deal. And to his surprise, he found himself enjoying the work. Having the power of life and death over the lesser pigs. The dregs of society who delighted in harming and abusing each other for small gain. Not worth the title of humans.   

The dreams had continued, In-ho and his new mentor working to decipher the information and link it to reality in between planning the next games. And the more they learnt, the more In-ho found himself agreeing. He had been someone else once. 

The name the westerner had called him had been the first clue. 

‘Hannibal’ 

It was not a common name in the English speaking world, In-ho had learnt. But there were a few known namesakes. And it wasn’t enough for him to discover who Il-nam thought he was.

The next time a dream had happened, a few days after he had arrived in his new home, thanks to Il-nam’s instructions, In-ho was a little more prepared to take notice of his surroundings. Again, the westerners had been there, but this time they were in a vast, decorative office space. In-ho had gotten used to opulence in the short time he had been Il-nam’s protege but this room, although expensive, was more refined. He had found himself sitting in a comfortable chair, the seat opposite taken by the westerner with the sharp gaze. 

Leaning in the chair, In-ho found himself handing a notebook to the man. 

“I want you to draw me a clock.” He said in English. The other man, looking haggard, had complied before handing the paper back. The resulting mess on the page, a confusing jumble of squiggles. 

In-ho could feel himself smiling as he closed the book, hiding the page away. 

“What is your professional diagnosis, Doctor Lecter?” The other man asked. “Am I still fit for duty?”

“I already told Uncle Jack you were.” In-ho replied, crossing his leg over his knee. In his peripheries, he could see that he was wearing high quality and therefore, expensive trousers. Something he was still getting used to, back in the waking world. 

“When you rubber stamped me earlier?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow in question. There was a slight air of mockery in his voice, despite the fatigue. 

In-ho couldn’t stop his lips turning up in a small smirk. 

“I do not remember risking my profession for such an underhanded action.” He stated.

“Of course. Plausible deniability.” The man muttered. 

“Or maybe just helping a friend.” In-ho suggested. 

The man glanced in his general direction but didn’t meet his eyes. After a moment, he shook his head, as if dislodging a thought. 

Somewhere in the distance, an alarm sounded, breaking the silence.

In-ho couldn’t stop the sigh escaping his throat. 

“I am afraid we are out of time Will.” he said, reluctantly rising to his feet. 

The man followed the action, rising from his own seat and collecting his worn old jacket from the ground beside him. 

“Same time next week?” he asked, glancing in In-ho’s direction as he draped the coat over his arm. 

“If you wish. You know you are always welcome to come to my home for dinner or even just for a friendly talk off the record.” In-ho said. He stepped forward, casually moving close enough to be what he considered within the other man's personal space but not close enough that the other man could call him out without potentially causing offence. 

A sour scent reached his nose. A sickly smell. It was coming from the other man. 

“I don’t think that would be appropriate, Doctor Lecter.” The other man stated, standing stiffly, not moving away but his body language showing he was not entirely comfortable with the close presence. 

“Nevertheless, the offer is there. Unless Jack Crawford calls for me to assist you again at a scene, we won’t meet again until our next session.”

“Yeah, no offence but that would mean no one died and I happen to think that's a good thing.” The man bit back, a little bit of fire in his voice. It was surprisingly thrilling to hear. 

In-ho felt his lips press together to cover an amused smile. 

“Of course. I won’t keep you any longer. Until next time, stay safe Will.”

“Bye Hannibal.” The man said before striding out the door, not looking back as it closed behind him. 

In-ho stood still for a long moment, watching the door before he turned and grabbed the notebook off the chair where he had left it. He opened the page to the drawing and gazed at it for a moment before tearing the page out. 

Walking towards an elaborate desk, he opened a draw and pulled out a folder, slipping the paper inside to join a growing stack of similar images before returning the folder to the draw and locking it. He then glanced at the desk and a rolodex full of cards. 

Opening it, he pulled out a card from the collection and slipped it in his pocket before he turned and walked towards the door. 

In-ho awoke just as the door swung open, jolting upwards on the comfortable bed in the suite he had been provided by Il-nam. 

Immediately, he rose to his feet and made his way to the small office area in the corner where an expensive laptop was set up, trying to hang on to the memories. 

He had a name now. Something he could use to try and find out more. 

Opening up a search bar, he carefully typed on the unfamiliar keyboard. 

‘Doctor Lecter’

Pressing the enter key, he was almost immediately bombarded with hundreds of websites. 

He had been deep in research a few hours later when Il-nam had arrived at his door, the old man annoyed he had ignored the summons for dinner. 

The other man's annoyance had disappeared as soon as he had noticed the screen displaying a photograph and the pile of hurriedly handwritten notes.

“Oh, you found yourself.” He said, a hint of glee in his voice In-ho wasn’t sure he liked. 

“Maybe.” In-ho said reluctantly. He was struggling to find anything to discredit his theory. The information he had gathered on a Doctor Hannibal Lecter, which should have alarmed him, seemed far too familiar. 

In-ho had grown up with a younger brother and yet, reading up the Doctor’s history, he suddenly had memories of a sister he had never had. He remembered her murder, the terror of that night as a helpless child tried to survive. 

He had never been outside of Korea and yet, he remembered the snow covered forests of Lithuania. The beautiful architecture of Paris and the wild wooded areas of America. 

He remembered the deaths. The rude salesmen and solicitors, more pigs than humans. He remembers the artistry, the passion in the kill. And instead of feeling disgusted or sick, he felt pride in it. He remembered the rich, complex taste of the flesh, cooked to perfection and served to his favored guests. 

He remembered a man. Broken and twisted and so full of potential. A challenge turned into a fascination and then slowly twisting into a deep love. 

His research had corroborated all his feelings, as he read up on the man he now knew he had once been. 

Hannibal Lecter. An infamous cannibal serial killer to some. An artist to others. Declared dead in late 2015, after falling off a cliff while on the run. The very night In-ho had his first dream. 

And the other man.

In-ho had found that there was a name commonly connected to Lecters. An FBI agent who, according to several articles, had made a deal with the devil to catch other killers. 

William Graham. 

In-ho didn’t even need to click on the linked pictures the site offered to know this was his western man. The one with the fascinating stare. 

In-ho had immediately checked and felt his heart sink as he read of Will’s fate. 

Dead. The same day as Hannibal. 

The article he had read had painted it as a murder suicide. The FBI agent destroying two serial killers before throwing himself to his own death. 

Another article said that Will had been Hannibal's lover and they had thrown themselves off the cliff as some sort of final joining of souls. In-ho had felt something deep in his chest after reading that. Something almost like regret. 

So, the man of his dreams was dead. And he…

Who was he?

Was he Hwang In-ho, an indebted game maker and apprentice to a rich man or was he Hannibal Lecter, a notorious serial killer back from the dead?

Was he both? Neither? Or something in between?

Il-nam had watched him in silence and In-ho could guess, the man knew some of his confusion. The old man had mentioned his own struggles with a similar experience as a reincarnated soul. 

"Have you figured out your purpose? The reason you are back?" The other man finally asked. 

In-ho glanced at the screen once more and the image of Hannibal, of himself, on it. 

Will was dead by his own hand. The one person who had fascinated him enough to sacrifice his life for. There was no return unless Will had also been reincarnated and that seemed unlikely. If there was a god, which he doubted, they would never be so kind as to allow him to be rejoined with the other.

But there was a purpose. He had dedicated so much of his life previous to creating art through the punishment of those who offended society. 

The games may not have the personal touch of Lecter’s work but they were still a way to get the message across. Still a way to control and take out his anger on the world. For Misha, his little sister. For Will, his beloved. 

In-ho didn’t know what his purpose was, or how he would ever join these two separate pieces of himself together but until he figured it out, he could find a purpose. 

Being In-ho, the Front Man of the games seemed like as good a start as any.

----

Yes, I know I have a problem. It's called 'I can't stop writing every random thought that comes to my head' hence why I made this blog, so I can write random stuff that may or may not make it to my actual fic account.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As a single dad trying to start dating again, Bradley feels like he's constantly running in circles. Hiring a twenty-four year old student to babysit should have made things easier, but no matter how hard he fights it, you're too irresistible to stay away from. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley cradled his forehead in his hands as he leaned against the bar. He hated being interrogated like this. He knew it was coming eventually, but he really wasn't expecting it today.

"You need a babysitter?" Nat asked with vivid interest. "Who are you going on a date with?"

He groaned. "What makes you think I need a babysitter so I can go on a date? Maybe I just need a couple hours to myself."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Because when you need an hour or two to yourself, you always ask me if I can come over and stay with Noah. And I always oblige, because I am the best person you know. So this must be something else. Who is it?"

"Rebel asked me out," Bradley murmured, looking at his friend out of the corner of his eye.

"Rebel! She's only been at Top Gun for a week!" Nat said, eyes wide as she examined his face. "She literally arrived from Lemoore seven days ago, and she already made a move on you? Damn, some of these pilots are quick."

"She just asked me out for coffee. I only said yes, because you keep telling me I should start dating again!"

"Well, you should start dating again. But I figured you'd download an app, find some cute women and get your rocks off. Not go on a date with a coworker!" Nat said, exasperated. 

Bradley just gaped at her as Penny dropped off two more beers. "I haven't done this in a while. Forgive me for not knowing precisely what you intended for me to do here, Nat," he said with a massive eye roll. 

She turned her nose up at him. "You're forgiven. But you need to give me your phone," she said, holding out her hand. 

"For what?" he asked skeptically.

"Just gimme."

Bradley handed it to her and she entered his passcode from memory. "Just don't order anything on my Amazon account, okay? I like my Hawaiian shirts just fine, and I donated all the shit you charged to my credit card last time."

"I'm not ordering you new clothes," she scoffed, tapping away on his screen. "I'm solving all your problems. Now look at me and smile."

Bradley glared at her instead as she snapped a few photos. "These look terrible," she mumbled under her breath as she switched to her own phone. "I have one where you look halfway decent... oh, here it is."

Then she was back on his phone again, and he just gave up trying to understand half of what she did when she wasn't in the air with him.

"Nat, I just don't know that I'll ever get serious with anyone again. Meredith kind of ruined that for me."

Nat was scrolling along on his phone as she said, "Meredith was a flaming asshat. I never liked her. The best thing she ever did was get pregnant with Noah and then dump you."

Bradley was back to cradling his head in his hand. He did not like thinking about the fact that his ex bailed on him and their son when he was just a few months old. It made him feel sick. And now he was partening alone, which was harder than anything he had ever done. 

"Shit," Bradley said, checking his watch. "I need to pick Noah up from daycare. Give me my phone," he said before finishing the last sip of his beer.

"I'm not done yet," Nat mumbled, a frightening grin creeping across her face. "Just one more minute."

Bradley thought about texting Rebel and canceling their tentative coffee date. Nat was probably right about dating another aviator. He didn't even know her actual first name, and she only ever called Bradley Rooster. What the hell kind of weird date would that be like? Talking Super Hornet specs? Comparing tales of punching out and parachute deployments?

He listened to a rapid string of alerts from his phone. "Is someone texting me?" he asked, reaching for his phone. "That's a lot of alerts. Is it Noah's daycare?"

But Nat was holding his phone tight and grinning. "Not texts. Women. Women who think you are cute and like your dating profile."

His eyes went wide. "What the fuck did you do?" he asked, his voice deadly calm. 

"Got you about ten dates if you want them. You're welcome," she said, handing his phone back to him. 

He scrolled through all of the profiles on his screen. "What am I looking at exactly?"

"Well, here's your profile. I used the only decent photos of you in existence. And that's your bio."

Bradley squinted at the screen. "All it says is that I'm 36, a naval aviator, and I like working out. And I have golden retriever energy? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you're energetic. They'll take that to mean in the bedroom."

"Jesus, Nat. Shouldn't I disclose important things? Like the fact that I'm a dad?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. That's second date material. They are going to want to size you up and see if you're a daddy before they need to know that you're a dad."

He shoved his phone in his pocket as he stood. "I don't have time for this," he grunted, pulling out his wallet and waving at Penny. "If I don't find a babysitter, none of this is going to make any difference anyway."

Penny took his credit card and then paused. "You need a babysitter for Noah? Mav and I can watch him if you need a break, you know that, right?"

Bradley sighed. "Thanks Pen. Yeah, I know that. I'm just looking for something a little more regular. Gonna try dating again," he said, glaring at Nat out of the corner of his eye. 

"I might know someone who would be interested," Penny said, handing the card back to Bradley. "She's a student in her early twenties, I guess. Really smart and seems sweet. Noah would probably like her. She's in classes during the day, but she was looking to babysit at night."

"How do you know her?" Bradley asked, already hesitant to leave his kid alone with a stranger. 

"She's renting a house on my street. I ran into her a few times, and we got to talking. She fed Luna, watered my plants, and got the mail when I took Amelia sailing."

Nat placed her hand on his arm. "I know this is a big step, but you could meet her first before you offer her the job."

Bradley stroked his mustache. "Any chance she would come over and meet me and Noah? So I can make sure she's not creepy?" he asked Penny.

Penny just laughed. "She's not creepy. How about I give her your number if she says she's interested in watching Noah."

"Sounds good," Bradley replied quickly, barely listening to Penny now. "I need to go pick him up. Bye, Nat."

"Don't forget to swipe through all your matches!" she called after him. 

He just waved and made his way to his Bronco. Bradley always felt like he was running all over the place. As much as it bothered him to take Noah to daycare on a Saturday, he felt like he was losing his grip on his life. His friends rarely ever remembered to invite him to the Hard Deck, correctly assuming he wouldn't be able to go. But it would still be nice to be invited. 

Everything felt impossible on his own. He wasn't getting enough sleep. As soon as Noah went to bed, it was a race to try to get every chore finished. Then he had to wake up an hour earlier to insure he had time to get Noah ready and dropped off at daycare on time. Every day was a damn marathon, and he really wished he could get some help.

He would never ever admit it to Nat, but he was lonely. Just the idea of getting to spend an evening eating dinner with a woman practically had him popping a boner. Having the chance to get to know someone again, get to have sex again? He couldn't think about it too long. He'd been spending so much time with his right hand and his imagination. 

As he pulled into the daycare parking lot, he sighed. This was the reason he had forfeited dating. His son. His adorable, perfect son. 

"Ready to go?" he asked, and Noach climbed up into his arms. 

"Yep, daddy," he said, and Bradley carried him out after thanking the daycare staff. 

"Let's get home and eat dinner," Bradley said, pushing Noah's dark curls away from his forehead and kissing him.

And this was the reason Bradley would only ever consider dating someone who liked kids and didn't mind dating a single dad. In spite of the daycare schedule, and the exhaustion and loneliness, Noah was his top priority. 

-------------------------

You were just getting back from class and unloading your books from your car when you saw Penny waving to you from her mailbox. As soon as you waved awkwardly with your arms full, she was heading your way.

"Hey, Penny," you said as she walked up your driveway.

"I wanted to chat for a minute. Is it a bad time?" she asked, eyeing up everything in your arms.

You nodded toward the house. "Come inside so I can set everything down."

She followed you in, already going on about someone named Bradley. "He's sweet, and he has an adorable three year old son named Noah. They are looking for a reliable sitter, and I know you mentioned an interest."

"Oh," you replied, dumping everything onto your couch. "This Bradley guy? He's not creepy or anything, right?"

Penny laughed. "He asked the same about you. He's very hesitant to let a stranger watch Noah, but I told him I'd give you his number if you wanted to contact him. Maybe you could just go meet them one day. He's not creepy. He works with Pete. And I swear Noah is irresistable."

You sighed. You really needed some extra income. And you loved kids. And you'd probably be able to study after Noah went to bed for the night. As long as this Bradley wasn't giving off weird vibes, you'd probably want the job.

"Okay, I'll take his number," you said, and soon you were adding Bradley Bradshaw to your contacts. "Thanks, Penny. Hopefully this will work out."

You got lost in your research for the rest of the day on Saturday, and purposely avoided returning texts from Greyson. He only wanted to see you when you were too busy, and he never wanted to see you when you had time for him.

"He's being a douchebag," you whispered as you scrolled through the idiotic things he was sending you. 

Then you opened a new conversation and typed out a draft to this Bradley guy.

Hi, I got your number from Penny Benjamin. She told me you're looking for a reliable babysitter. Any chance you have some free time so I can meet you and your son?

It was late, so you decided to let it sit in your drafts until the following morning. But apparently it wasn't too late for Greyson, who was now asking if you wanted him to send you a dick pic. 

You switched your phone to do not disturb mode after telling him that you would really appreciate it if he didn't send you one. Then you went to bed and dozed off fantasizing about dating a guy who acted like an adult. 

It was so late when you woke up, you decided to skip breakfast and just make yourself lunch. When you switched your phone back to receive messages, you were flooded with a bunch, mostly from Greyson. Luckily there was no dick pic to speak of, but he'd sent you a bunch of nonsense while he was probably drunk or high. 

Then you noticed the draft to Bradley Bradshaw, so you hit send on that one. You had a reply from him before you were even done making a sandwich.

Bradley Bradshaw: Yes, I am looking for a sitter for my son Noah. Penny highly recommended you. I can make time to meet you whenever you are free. Just to be clear, I want to make sure Noah and I are both comfortable around you before proceeding. 

You rolled your eyes. A grown adult man should not be as concerned about you as you should be about him. But, you could see where he was coming from about the prospect of letting a stranger stay with his son. So you replied and started eating your sandwich.

I could stop by this evening to meet you both if you're free.

He wrote back quickly again.

Bradley Bradshaw: That would be great. Anytime after 4. I'll attach my address.

If this guy was creepy or if his son was weird, Penny was going to be hearing about it for the rest of the year.

---------------------------

Bradley was just cooking dinner while Noah sat in his high chair coloring, when he heard his doorbell ring. "That might be your potential babysitter, bub," Bradley told him, kissing the top of his head as he grabbed a dish towel and headed for the front door while drying his hands.

But Bradley almost dropped the towel when he opened the door and got a look at you. As your wide eyes drifted up his body and landed on his face, you smiled up at him. 

"Mr. Bradshaw?"

You were stunning. Beautiful, and so fucking young. He swallowed against the saliva pooling in his mouth. Oh shit. 

"Uh, yeah. Hi," he managed, moving out of the doorway so you could step past him and into the living room. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem," you said with a shrug. "I'm looking forward to meeting Noah." You brushed past Bradley, and he closed his eyes. Your lip gloss was distractingly shiny. You smelled like beach grass or wildflowers. You looked like you were barely old enough to drink. 

"He's in the kitchen," Bradley rasped, trying to pull himself together. "Back this way."

You followed Bradley through the house, and as soon as you saw his son sitting in the high chair, you went right to him.

"Hey, Noah! What are you coloring?"

"Dinosaurs," Noah told you, holding out a pink crayon. 

"Cool. I love pink dinosaurs," you replied, starting to color a pterodactyl on the page next to the one he was working on.

"Me too. I like pink and blue dinosaurs the best," he replied. 

Bradley watched you interacting with Noah. You seemed sweet, coloring each dinosaur the color he requested. When Noah mispronounced your name, you just laughed and told him he could call you that. 

When you bent down to retrieve a yellow crayon as it rolled across the floor, Bradley got an excellent view of the backs of your bare thighs as your sundress rode up. He dropped the spatula into the pan, nearly burning himself. He was also nearly burning his dinner.

"Shit," he mumbled as you turned to smile at him before handing the crayon back to Noah. 

"What else do you like to do? Besides color?" you asked. 

Noah started telling you all about drawing with chalk and playing with bubbles outside. "I like snacks and movies. And hiking."

Bradley laughed. "By hiking he means walking around the block if I make it home from work before it's dark out."

"Oh," you said. "I can take you on a hike one day, Noah. I like hiking around the block, too. Maybe we can collect some things like rocks and leaves." 

Bradley listened to Noah tell you about some particularly good rocks he had found last week, and you somehow responded in just the right way.

"You're in the navy?" you eventually asked Bradley, shrugging out of your denim jacket in the hot kitchen, giving Bradley a view of even more of your flawless skin. "Like Pete?"

He cleared his throat, mixing everything in the pan on the stove. "Yeah, I work with him. I'm an aviator."

"Do you want me to call you by your rank? Instead of Mr. Bradshaw?" 

Bradley had to press his lips together, a little scared to know what hearing you call him Lieutenant Bradshaw would do to him. "You can just call me Bradley."

"Okay, Bradley," you said, and unfortunately that did something to him too. "You've got a cute kid. I think Noah and I could have a lot of fun together."

"How old are you?" The words were out of Bradley's mouth before he could rethink them. He almost sounded accusatory, but really he needed to know how bad it was that he couldn't stop looking at your legs.

"Twenty-four," you replied casually. 

Jesus. He was twelve years older than you. But you looked even younger than that. Sweet. Too innocent. 

"I'm in grad school for nursing," you continued. "I'm certified in CPR, and I can treat injuries. I know how to swim. I'm free every day starting at 4. You can run a background check on me if you want to."

Noah looked up at you and asked if you wanted to build blocks with him, and Bradley knew he already felt comfortable enough to leave his son with you while he went on a date with Rebel. 

He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He hadn't taken the time to figure out how to use the dating app that Nat installed, and he was being inundated with matches and messages. He also hadn't given Rebel, whose first name was Grace, a solid answer about when he could get coffee with her.

But for some reason, in spite of the laundry list of women from the app who were interested in going on a date with him, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. 

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Bradley asked as you built a block tower with Noah on the high chair tray. 

"Oh, no. That's nice of you to ask, but I don't want to crash your meal," you told him over your shoulder. "Here, put this little block on the top. Let's see if we can make it stay," you told Noah, keeping your hands around the sides of the tower until he successfully set down the last piece. Then you tossed your hands into the air and cheered.

Noah turned and looked at you in surprise and you just laughed. "You're good at coloring and blocks?" He just giggled, and soon you were both knocking down the tower and starting over. 

As Bradley scraped his half burned dinner onto a plate, he felt a little disappointed that you were grabbing your jacket and getting ready to leave. Noah looked a little sad, too. 

"Well," Bradley told you, watching you gracefully shrug into your jacket, "you're hired if you think you can put up with the two of us."

You laughed and took a step closer to him. "Noah? He seems like an angel. You on the other hand?"

Bradley's eyes went wide, and you just laughed harder. 

"Only kidding! I'm sure I'll be able to put up with both of you if you think you can put up with me."

You were young and beautiful, and for some reason Bradley wanted to feed you dinner, even though the food he made looked barely edible. 

"I don't think that will be a problem."

---------------------------

I hope you enjoy your Daddy Rooster and babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls !!

PART 2

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[01shiho-hinomori08]

Hey this isn't like me but I wanted to make a rant rq because I'm doing better and just want to warn people about stuff like this

Tw for Gr00ming and S3xual harassment

My ex dated me when I was 15 and she was 17. That doesn't sound that bad, sure, but two years is a huge maturity gap.

I want to let you guys know the warning signs here because she displayed all of them, even if she didn't mean to be an abuser, she did. I will specify here, this was all online in the span of two months, which proves one again, a lot of crap can happen in even a DAY, two years is a whole other story.

You may blame me because i begged her to stay but this brings me to point number one

1. If a younger person comes onto you, don't interact. She said that the age gap made her uncomfortable, so I was fine with it and wanted to stay her friend, which makes me worry it was my fault. But then I was clearly attached bc we called all day and night and she ended up 'catching feelings' for me. She should have blocked me if it was a problem, a mentally ill child coming to you isn't going to end well. So if an adult or someone too old just still interacts with someone young, that's a warning sign. Which brings me to another

2. "Its legal so it's okay" NO NO NO. No it's not. She initially was like "Oh the gap makes me uncomfortable" yet she kept going and then even talked to MY best friend about how she would never date someone like me. But either way, if someone has to specify its legal just to make themselves feel better, it's not okay. Yes it's legal, but does that make it morally okay? When I was being born, you were already two. Yes, I knew a lot of words you didn't and I was 'more mature' than you, but that doesn't erase the fact that you still have had an entire two years to develop ahead of me.

3. Isolating you from friends. She had my passwords, and I had hers but it meant I couldn't talk to my friends about my worries because she had it all. I had also blocked my best friend on everything because she was uncomfortable, and this person has been with me for almost THREE YEARS, and I had to throw it out because she wasn't happy and I was scared she'd leave me if I didn't [Hes forgiven me, so it's alright] I didn't even realize what had happened until my friends noticed how bad my mood swings were due to her. I had also introduced her to like, all of my friends, but she'd go on my account without permission and message them from my account meaning she could see anything I was saying

4. They get you exceedingly expensive or 'dangerous' gifts. By dangerous gifts, I don't mean stuff that's harmful [though that's also bad] but I have strict parents and my mom would probably question packages I'd get. So she ended up getting MY BEST FRIEND'S ADDRESS and sending it there. Luckily, she's not gonna do anything with it and I made sure she deleted it, but she also had mine and my brother's name which is scary. She bought me only two things, an OMORI plush and my favorite book but she had also bought me VRC+ [bc we used to play every night] and it made me feel like I owed her more.

5. You find yourself becoming more dependent on them. She used to beg me not to leave whenever I tried [I have BPD and do it a lot, I know it's bad, it's why I don't date] but then I would feel sometimes like I could NEVER leave if I wanted to. She told me to not be selfish and take away her happiness and it was scary. I spent every waking second with her, she heard me talking to my family, in school, even has watched me shower. I thought it was out of love and pure comfort but now I feel gross thinking about how I'd prop up my phone or always have my headphones charged just to make sure neither of us would get into trouble. It was uncomfortable to panic all the time and always undress in front of her

6. Overly s3xual shit. If someone is older than you and is genuinely being s3xual, RUN. S3x jokes is still kind of iffy, depends what kind. I know, as a minor, minors will be doing stuff like that, but at the end of the day, the brain is not fully developed, we cannot properly consent. We would talk like that almost everyday and I would feel so gross. I couldn't do anything without her being gross, really. I used to think it was sweet and romantic but I just, feel icky now. I can't look at myself still.

There's obviously a lot more but as I'm typing this, I'm reliving memories I don't want to. I just want you all to feel safe. Some things that happened when we were nearing our end, she moved on to a new friend group, completely sexualizes herself to her new friends and then when I'd talk about how uncomfortable it made me, she'd say it was all friends, one of the last "nice moments" we had was when we were broken up, and she got off to my voice that night. Then the next day, was cold again, and the day after that, blocked me on everything. She put 18, minors dni in her bio while she was still talking to me before her birthday was here. After blocking me too, she sent me a video of herself on Halloween while I was out with friends so I just tried not to break down.

I shared my interests with her, and they're now hers. I drew her all of the time, I shared everything with her, and now I feel like crap.

What I will say, I am a mentally ill child, she constantly would tell me how her mental health was fine. I will have mood swings, I will try to push her away, and that was my problem. But at the end of the day, I was a CHILD and I'm disgusted by the things I did to make her happy. It wasn't that long ago, but it still doesn't mean I'm not trying to heal every day. Thank you for reading and please, please remember to stay safe and take care of yourself.

[brightlilith]

.002.

.important.

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December 25, 2022 - New York

...

It was Christmas, one of my favorite times of the years, but it seems this year I wasn't as excited. 5:30 am, my alarm had just gone off and I promptly turned it off, Amelia was still sleeping in the guest room, she didn't want me to spend Christmas alone again.

The dawn was so beautiful, so calming and comforting... The city was quiet, only the snow was falling serenely. Parents being awakened by their children eager to open the many gifts that lie under their trees.

My tree wasn't empty, in none of those years has it been... my family couldn't spend Christmas with me, and neither could I with them.. They always made sure to send me gifts months before so I could open them at Christmas and New Year my birthday. Brazil didn't seem so far away when I opened them.

Christmas is a time of year to celebrate with family, dress up in fancy clothes, and listen to silly jokes and boyfriend questions from your uncles. An amazing holiday. (In Brazil.)

"Why did you wake up so early?" Amélia frowned, she was leaning against the wall of one of the corridors that led to the room.

"Why are you awake?" I retorted, she stared at me. “I couldn't sleep, that's all." She nodded and came to me and sat next to me snuggling into me.

" Insomnia again?" She mumbled and I just grunted in agreement

We opened the presents and then we went to the sofa, I turned on the television and put on Friends, a good way to distract yourself..

୨୧ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ୨୧

It was 8:43 in the morning when my apartment doorbell rang, I was surprised, I wasn't expecting anyone, not even Amelia.

I went to the door and looked through the peephole, it was Marcus, the janitor, I opened the door and soon noticed a package in his hands.

"This package arrived for you this morning." He smiled and handed it to me, I smiled gently at him, so he withdrew.

I closed the door and examined the box, it was from Brazil, could it be that one of the gifts my family sent was left behind and arrived now? Who knows.

"Who was?" Asked the black-eyed woman.

"The caretaker, he brought a package for me."

"What is it?" She approached me curiously.

"I don't know, I'll open it."

I sat on the floor facing the coffee table, Amelia soon joined me. The box was medium and light.

I opened the box and found my old MP3 player, along with my headphones and charger, which I thought I lost in 2003 when I went to Germany with my parents, but it looks like it was left in Brazil. He didn't have a specific address, he just said he came from Brazil.

It was still in great shape, just unloaded it seems. I put the Mp3 player to charge next to the sofa and it started to charge.

Amelia had gone back to the guest room she officially declared hers and I went to mine, threw myself on the bed and sleep came fast.

୨୧ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ୨୧

I woke up with the cell phone vibrating, turned it off and went back to sleep, but they keep persisting. I opened my eyes and saw what time it was, 2:32 pm, and 4 missed calls from my mother, I returned the call and she answered immediately.

"Oi, mãe. (Hi, Mom)." My sleeping voice was noticeable and a little muffled because of my position.

"Oi querida, voce estava dormindo?" (Hi honey, were you sleeping?). Her melancholy voice rang out, and I hummed in agreement. "Oh querida, me desculpe, viu? Eu só liguei porque a porra do seu pai ficava me incomodando para ligar para você e perguntar se você gostou dos seus presentes." (I only called because your fucking father kept bugging me to call you and ask how you liked your presents).

"Pode dizer que eu amei, aliás, obrigado por encontrar e me enviar meu Mp3 player, pensei que nunca mais veria." You can tell him I loved it, by the way, thanks for finding and sending my mp3 player, I thought I'd never see it again). said shifting my position so my voice wouldn't be so muffled.

"Como assim? não enviamos nenhum Mp3 player, mas fico feliz que voce achou." (Sorry honey? We didn't send you any mp3 player, but I'm glad you found them). She laughed

Strange..

"seu pai sente muito a sua falta, eu também. Espero que volte logo." (Your father misses you a lot, me too, hope you come back soon). She sighed.

“Eu também, mãe. Vou tentar o meu melhor para ir ao Brasil ainda este ano." (Me too, mom. I'll try my best to go to Brazil later this year).

We talked some more and she had to hang up. I sighed heavily, Amelia is probably still sleeping.

My mp3 player should already be loaded.

I got up still lazy, opened the curtains and went to do my hygiene, as soon as I finished I went to where I had put it to charge and saw that it was 100%.

I turned it on and it started playing some weird music and some kind of thing came out of the screen.

I quickly dropped the mp3 player and walked away. The thing.. or whatever it was, it was yellow and had a funny witch hat, it also had a cape, it was blue with big white glittery stars and white glitter simulating small stars, with an orange wand in the shape of a star.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"

Tysm<3

Constructive criticism is always welcome. English ins't my fist language. Originally the idea was for the reader to be an oc, which in this case would be (Amanda White), but I will refer to her as a reader. Sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors. Comment or reblog it motivates me to keep writing.

(Not revised)

© morganaah/brightlilith ─ all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other platforms.

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