#ALSO they should’ve been scheduling me for spring training from the get go �� because i refuse to be a back up server all the time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hotwings0203 · 4 years ago

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Meeee. I want a longer version of the voyeur deku and bully kacchan. but in kacchan's pov tho. 💜💜💜👀

My dear anon. You ask and so you shall receive 💓

Pt.1, Pt.2

Tw: implied gangbang, stalking, implied noncon

If there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugo hated more than Deku, it was you.

No, actually, scratch that.

He couldn’t stand you around Deku.

As his childhood friend-or rival, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, Bakugo knew Deku like the back of his hand.

He knew how he liked his breakfast, eggs runny with cheese and pepper sprinkled in the middle. He knew how crazy he could be as a fanboy for All Might, collecting over 500 antiques of the hero. He knew how he liked spring better because then he could stand under the Sakura trees and close his eyes in bliss while the petals floated softly down on his face.

He knew how he liked to steal your panties and jerk off to them.

He knew that his favorite position to watch him rape you from the front so that he could see every expression while you were filled to the brim with cum.

How the fuck could you be so blind?

Did you not notice the way your undergarments slowly started to vanish, one by one? Did you not realize who’s handwriting it was when you found yet another threatening yet lewd note in your locker? You had to actually be brain dead to not catch on to how he was always the last person out, just to trail behind and watch how your ass swayed when you walked out of the classroom.

But no, apparently you were even more stupid than he thought.

Because instead of correctly matching a face to actions, you thought him, Bakugo fucking Katsuki was the one doing all of this.

He supposed he couldn’t actually hold it against you though. I mean, he was the one slipping a hand up your shirt when you were walking out said door, he was the one who was shoving you against the lockers right when you were about to unlock it and find the notes, and he was the one who tore your panties in two, dangling them in front of your face while you pleaded for him to give it back. He never did, of course, he simply threw them over his shoulder and proceeded dragging you away so he could fuck you in privacy.

But he guesses there wasn’t much privacy if he was being watched all the time.

It was actually pretty typical of Deku. To leech off of what he left behind and try to claim it as his own. First his All Might obsession, then his shoot style, and now you? It’s pathetic, but typical.

He should’ve realized it wasn’t the shadows moving in the corner of his eyes when he was buried to the hilt inside your warmth. When the hairs stood at the back of your neck in the showers, it wasn’t because he was fucking you dumb, it was because someone else’s moans were in synch with his.

But it’s okay, because he knows and you don’t. He knows how the dweeb looks at you, how he sports a tent in his pants when you innocently lay a hand on his shoulder, he knows why your window is broken even though you fell asleep with it intact.

He catches Deku one day. He catches him red handed like the little rat he is.

It was so easy, too, the green haired little shit follows him around like some lovesick puppy anyways. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s following you or himself.

You walk home from your night classes one evening, when the night is darker than your own shadows and the stars barely dust across the sky. No one else is around, and so you clutch your bag a little more tightly against you whenever you hear a leaf or a start car rustle in the trees surrounding your path back to the dorms.

Bakugo knows your schedule, of course. You take English and Statistics in the morning and save Quirk Training for the evening when you’re the most tired-a stupid plan, in his opinion.

Or at least he thought, at first. Turns out that you’re the easiest to follow when you’re spent and covered in bruises from being thrown against rocks and burned by fire from class. He wishes he could’ve seen you in person when that all happens, but it doesn’t matter when you’re stumbling down the cobblestone path towards your dorm, deaf and blind to any person that might be right behind you.

You just want to go home, he can accept that. Especially when he can so easily trail after you, merely 20 feet away on the same path as you. No one would suspect he’s up to no good from the leisurely way he strolls with his hands in his pockets, and he would bet his entire life that you wouldn’t waste a second to turn around and check your surrounding in favor of hurrying up to your room so you can sleep the aches away.

He might be subtle, but Deku isn’t.

The fucker hides in the bushes and almost crawls like a bug in the foliage after his two favorite people. It’s not even a clever disguise because his hair is three shades lighter than the leaves on the thickets.

Bakugo can hear the twigs snap and rustle as he bumbles around trying to be inconspicuous. He rolls his eyes and turns around, a deep scowl on his face.

“You’re not fooling anyone you bastard. Get the fuck out here right now before I blast you away.”

It doesn’t even take a full three seconds before Deku’s head meekly pops up and he gives a weak smile.

“H-hey Kacchan. Nice to see you here, I just dropped my papers-“

“No you didn’t. How long have you been following us?”

Deku blanches and slowly lifts his eyes to meet Bakugo’s. His mouth might’ve tried to open and refute the accusation, but when he saw the subtle smirk in the latters eye he found himself caring less about being caught.

“Howd you know?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffs and takes a quick glance back at you to ensure that you hadn’t walked too far off. You were still slowly trudging away, an easy distance for him to cross. “You’re about as stealthy as my quirk you freak.”

Deku laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head, also trying to quickly turn his head to see where you are.

“You likin’ the show so far?”

“Huh?” The green haired boy snaps his head back to him, blushing furiously now.

“You heard me. And don’t pretend to be so scandalized, you’re not holier than thou.”

The low voice to an almost predatory tone makes Deku drop the act. He straightens up a bit taller and his eyelids lower, his brows raised in a mocking sneer of some sorts. His lips curl and his teeth gleam in the moonlight, almost looking like fangs.

Bakugo has to remind himself for a moment not to back up a step.

“Yeah, I’m likin’ it.”

“I knew it. I bet you watched us every time we fucked, you bastard. Next time I’ll make you pay for front row seats since that’s where you always seem to be.” He crosses his arms and stares Deku down.

But the other doesn’t cower. Instead, his expression morphs into that of a weird hopeful look.

“I wouldn’t exactly say fucked is the right word. I’d say raped is better, Kacchan.”

It’s the utter confidence and ease in which he says this that makes Bakugo do a double take, his scowl breaking for a moment.

But he regroups. He knew this little shit was weird and fucked up, but he didn’t realize he was twisted beyond repair. In reality, he knew he was actually having sex with you without your full consent but hearing it from a guy like Deku made it so much worse.

It made his heart pound a little faster, while it made Dekus mouth water.

“Yeah? You liked watching me motorboat and fuck her tits? You liked hearing her scream for me, scream to get away from me too?”

And even in the shadows from the trees he can see how hard the degenerate nods his head eagerly like a dog waiting for its bone.

Even though he doesn’t like how the glint in his eyes darken with each vile word coming from his own mouth, he can’t help but go further down this rabbit hole and see how much Deku can take before he snaps-he’s never seen him so hungry for something before, except for when he would be around All Might.

So he eggs him on.

“I bet you got off on watching her struggle underneath me, didn’t you?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement to which Deku confirms.

“I did. I got off so many times I thought I’d have to get it checked out. But honestly, I think you could do better.”

Katsuki wasnt expecting that response.

“Who the fuck are you to-“

“Have you ever really savored the look of fear in her eyes? Have you ever tied her up and really played with her?”

His voice gets stuck in his throat as Deku continues.

“She’s pretty when you fill her up, but I can’t help but wonder..what would she look like with every hole plugged?”

He has no right looking so shy and nervous when such filth leaves his salivating lips. A drop of spit falls to the cobblestone and as Bakugo grimaces and steps back a bit, he realizes that he has not given his childhood rival as much credit for being a creep than he actually is.

“No fucking way. You better not be suggesting you get in on any of this action. She’s fuckin’ mine and I’ll be damned if I have to share her with some useless fuck like you.”

“I promise I won’t be useless, Kacchan. I’ll make sure to keep her moving at all times. She won’t stop bouncing when I’m with her, please, please let me give it a try too.”

And when he doesn’t look convinced, Deku rambles on like a madman. “I’ll even gag her with her own bloodstained panties so that she can shut up and I can focus better. I won’t ask you for her pussy either, I’ll take her ass or throat instead if you want!”

Katsuki wishes he didn’t hear the childhood boyish eager in his voice as he spoke.

He also wishes his dick didn’t get quite so hard when all of that was said.

“God, just shut up already, she’s getting farther now. Okay look, I’ll let you give it a go this one time only so that I can fuck her in peace without you staring at my ass the entire time.”

Dekus eyes light up and he lifts a leg over to step over the hedges. “Really, you mean it? I can fuck her too?”

Bakugo snarls and turns away, heading towards the same path you took. “Whatever, just don’t think this is gonna be a regular kind of thing. I worked hard to get myself a toy and I’ll be damned if you fuck it up for me.”

And when they both join the other towards you, there’s a moment when you glance back that you think the shadow that has been following you this whole time has turned into two.

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shutupanakin · 3 years ago

Text

Wasting Your Time ch. 6

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

first chapter here crossposted on ao3 here

Tommy was humming to The Beatles when the train arrived. He was tapping his leg to the beat with his index and middle finger. Tommy had Yellow Submarine doing loops in his head since he had heard it the morning Sam had taken him to his classes.

Tommy wasn’t alone on the platform— a man that had to be around Sam’s age was there with him, meters away from an elder woman. Not the same one from that first night. The woman who carried the ruby red purse had white hair; the woman now was simply salt and pepper colored.

When the doors clicked open, Tommy resumed his spot in the back. They both sat separately at the front, not glancing back at Tommy. Tommy resumed his tapping, this time his knuckles against the metal beneath the window.

Tommy had started his new classes yesterday. He and Sam had spent the last week working to change it, and guilt weighed down Tommy’s chest thinking about the hours Sam had racked up on the phone. He had assured Tommy that it was okay, to not worry about it.

His schedule was different now, because of the change. He had some classes tomorrow, although they were luckily not in the morning. Tommy would have hated to have to set up another day with Wilbur— that would be inconvenient, for the both of them. The nights during the weekend on the tube line were busier, it was one of the reasons why Tommy had initially chosen Tuesday.

Wilbur was also well… Wilbur . Tommy could hear his grumblings if they were to change the day. Tommy wondered the length of the monologue that he could spring from that.

The man had glanced back at Tommy, a disgruntled look on his face. Tommy and he made eye contact for a brief second before Tommy’s eyes shot down, the rhythm that he had fallen into fading.

Tommy’s cheeks burned, that was embarrassing. Tommy didn’t think he was being that loud, at least not enough to warrant such a disapproving look from a stranger.

He was just a stranger. Someone who Tommy will never have to see again , Tommy reminded himself, in a voice that almost sounded similar to Wilbur’s, so who cares?

Tommy thinks back to the woman with the red purse, and the man, and the countless strangers that Tommy had passed and received odd looks from in the past few weeks.

So who cares?

Tommy decided that he didn’t.

Tommy resumed his tapping, a smug look settling on his face. The man only turned around once in annoyance to see Tommy’s expression.

By the time the train had started slowing for Wilbur’s stop, Tommy’s tapping was accompanied by humming. Maybe after his classes tomorrow Tommy could pull the dusty keyboard out of his closet. Tommy remembered the chords, despite his recent disuse of it. Maybe Tommy could pull some sheet music from google.

Sam got home after Tommy, whether or not Tommy was picked up by Ranboo’s cousin or he had taken the bus home. Because of their conflicting schedules, Tommy could do this without obnoxiously disturbing Sam when he had UNI work.

Tommy wondered if he could convince Wilbur to bring his guitar, one of these days. Tommy remembered that he said he didn’t make music anymore, but Tommy was a consistent nagger. He was sure he could press Wilbur into it.

He never gave a reason why , Wilbur didn’t give much of a reason why he did anything.

Metallic doors slid open, and Wilbur entered. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his coat, head tilted down. Wilbur’s round-rimmed glasses looked like they were about to fall off the bridge of his nose.

He was frowning.

Not in a disapproving way, like the one he would sometimes give Tommy.

Any thought of music, or pestering Wilbur to bring his guitar died on Tommy’s tongue.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, Wilbur taking his seat next to Tommy.

Wilbur rubbed at his temples. “Headache,” He replied.

“Oh,” Tommy said. “I’ll try to keep my Tommy-ness on the down-low for today, just for you big dubbs.”

“Do not do that,” Wilbur advised, waving him off. “I am fine, ” He emphasized. “Why does the guy upfront look like he wants to strangle you?” Wilbur asked, gesturing to the same man who had been glaring at Tommy.

Tommy snorted. “Oh, now he got annoyed by my Tommy-ness.”

“What did you do?” As an answer, Tommy started tapping on the metal beneath the window again.

“Just that, ” Tommy scoffed. “And a bit of humming. Just enough to piss him off.”

Wilbur laughed, and Tommy grinned. There it was. “That is my boy! What song was it?” “Yellow Submarine,” Wilbur groaned.

“The Beatles?”

“ What ? Are you too good for the Beatles, Will?”

“I am,” Wilbur hummed in agreement.

They stopped, a nd the man got off. Tommy flipped him off as he left.

“Well I like them, you pretentious prick ,” Tommy scowled, Wilbur laughed. “So does Sam,”

“How is he?” Wilbur asked.

“Great, actually,” Tommy answered truthfully. “Took me to my new classes yesterday.”

“How are those going?”

“Fucking— better than Architecture .” Tommy scowled. “I’m not pulling my hair out or— or getting bored? Ya know? And Filmography is just so cool man. You’re gonna go to the theatres in a few years and see my name on the big screen.”

“Tommy,”

“And— and I probably will have to take Tubbo as my plus one, ya know. Or Sam. Probably Sam—”

“Tommy—”

“Oh don’t worry big man,” Tommy waved. “I’ll get you in. Special ticket just for you! I’m the director , they can’t say no to me, ya know. And if they do I’ll—”

“ Tommy, ” Wilbur said a final time, cutting Tommy off mid ramble. His frown was back, and Tommy snapped his mouth shut. He got lost in his rambling, forgetting about Wilbur’s headache.

“Sorry,” Tommy said, his voice lowered. “I forgot about your headache, I’ll tone it down so—”

Wilbur waved his hand. “It is not that, do not worry. You are fine.”

Tommy pursed his lips. “Are you fine?”

Wilbur hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I am fine.”

They stopped, no one on or off.

Tommy deepened his own frown. “Are you sure? I’m not— well, you , but I’d like to think I’m pretty observant, ya know. A few years ago Tubbo broke his arm when he fell on it during football, ya know. And I knew before him that it was broken. Absolute moron, he—”

“Tommy,”

Tommy could’ve slapped himself. “Sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” Wilbur sighed, rubbing his face. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

They’ve had this conversation already, Tommy remembered. So he just swallowed, and said; “Okay.”

“I do have a question, though,” Wilbur finally said. Tommy pulled at the thread.

“Yeah?”

Wilbur sighed. Whatever the man was trying to ask, he was visibly struggling. He pinched the bridge of his nose, adjusting his glasses.

“Why did you want to kill yourself, Tommy?” Oh, directly on the nose, right to the face, Tommy thinks.

He could have worded that better, Tommy groaned internally.

“That’s a loaded question, big man,” Tommy laughed nervously. “Haven’t— haven’t we spent the last few weeks… I don’t know… going over that?”

“Refresher? If you— for my sake of mind,” Wilbur said.

“I… I guess it’s because of how shitty… everything felt, yeah? It was going so shitty with Tubbo and Ranboo, and Sam. And I was about to flunk out, and I hated it, yeah? I felt so trapped. But it’s not like that anymore? My friends listen , and Sam is trying and I know that he cares.”

Tommy didn’t add the it’s because of you, you did that , because he knew Wilbur enough that he would shut him down.

“Do you still want to?” Wilbur finally asked.

That was also a loaded question. Something in the air tonight must’ve made Wilbur feel more emo, to be asking all these questions.

Did Tommy want to?

“No.” Tommy decided, and it felt like the truth.

Wilbur was looking at him. Tommy focused on the thread. He didn’t like it when Wilbur looked at him so sadly.

They stopped again— Tommy didn’t bother looking up to see if anyone came on or exited.

“Why do you still come to see me?”

“Because you’re my friend, Will?”

Tommy looked up to see Wilbur’s expression soften.

It was a stupid question, Tommy thinks. Tommy could be well into his thirties he thinks, and he would still come to see Wilbur. He could be directing the next big blockbuster and he would still come and see Wilbur.

Wilbur did something unexpected— his arms wrapped his arms around Tommy, being pulled into a hug . It should’ve been awkward, with the angle and both of them sitting down, but it felt nice. It felt right.

“Can you promise me something?” Wilbur says.

“Mm-hm,” Tommy hums against Wilbur’s black jumper. Considering that he wore this stupid Reagan and Bush jumper every time Tommy saw him, it didn’t smell bad. It didn’t smell at all .

“Promise me that you will not jump.”

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, he thought they were past that. “What?”

“Just promise.” Wilbur pushed.

“Okay,�� Tommy says. “I won’t jump. I promise.” He pulled out of Wilbur’s arms. “Besides, can't you have you losing your only friend.”

The sound Wilbur made was between a scoff and a laugh. “Oh, you child .”

Tommy snickered. “No, no, I get it. I’m too important to lose! You would be ever so lonely .”

“I have friends, Tommy,” Wilbur said, exasperated.

“Yes,” Tommy agreed. “You have me .”

“I also have Niki , and occasionally Jack—”

“Occasionally?” Tommy asked. “You still haven’t explained why you’re banned.”

“It is not important,” Wilbur said. Their stop was coming up— maybe Tommy could ask Manifold what happened, maybe he would be more willing. “Do not theorize on it too much.”

Tommy stood up with Wilbur. He didn’t need to shake his leg awake, thankfully.

“Oh I’m theorizing big dubbs,” Tommy said, exiting the train with Wilbur.

“And what are your theories?”

Tommy blinked. “I’ve got nothing.” He admitted. “That’s the point of theorizing, Will. I’m getting there.”

“I am sure you will.”

“Do not condescend me.”

“I am not!”

“ Memememe I’m sure you will — you are. You dickhead!” Tommy pointed a finger accusingly.

“You child.” Wilbur jabbed light-heartedly.

“You suck,” Tommy grumbled.

“Love you too,” Wilbur hummed, stopping in front of Jack's store.

“ Blah blah blah ,” Tommy complained. “Love you too, whatever, you still suck.”

The “A�� in Jack was still out. Tommy doubted he could afford an electrician to fix it right now.

“This is where we part?” Wilbur asked, shoving his hands deep into his coat.

“I mean,” Tommy glanced back at the door, then turned back to Wilbur. “Jack loves me. I could get him to unban you.”

Wilbur frowned, and Tommy faltered. But he schooled his expression back into one of neutrality. “I doubt that.”

“You watch,” Tommy said. “Jack will be begging to have you back as a customer.”

Wilbur smiled in defeat. “Okay, Tommy.”

“Don’t okay Tommy me,” Tommy huffed. “I’ve got this.”

Wilbur nodded encouragingly. He smiled. “I believe in you.”

“You better,” Tommy said, giving one more look to Wilbur before entering the store, the tell-tale sound of the bell alerting Jack.

“Hi, Tommy!” Jack yawned, peeking from behind the counter.

“Hey, Jack.” Tommy greeted, reaching into the bowl of pins. “How’s the night going?”

“Just you, again,” Jack said, leaning his chin on his palm.

Tommy’s hand found a gold, crown-shaped pin. The gold was faded into a murky yellow, but Tommy placed it on the counter with his pounds anyway.

“I have something to ask you, by the way,” Tommy said, Jack, sliding away from his precious money.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “What is it?”

“What happened with Wilbur?” Tommy asked, thumb pointing to the door. “Because—”

“Wilbur?” Jack cut off, face falling into a deep frown. “Wilbur Soot?”

“Yeah? You know many people named Wilbur?” Tommy asked, sarcastically. It was meant to be lighthearted, but Jack looked borderline— angry. Whatever Wilbur had done must’ve really pissed him off.

“The hell are you on about, Tommy?” Jack asked, and yeah, Tommy took a step back. Jack was angry.

“Well— well I was just gonna ask you if you could, I don’t know… Un—unban him but if what—”

“Tommy.” Jack cut off.

“Yeah?” Tommy said, his hand tight on the crown pin.

“Wilbur Soot is dead.”

That was impossible, Tommy thinks, because Wilbur was right outside. Jack was a moron, Tommy was just with Wilbur. He had been with Wilbur all night.

“No, he’s not?” Tommy laughed, although this wasn’t a very funny joke.“You’re fucking with me.”

Jack shook his head, his expression falling into something less angry, and more confusion. “I’m— I’m not, Tommy.” His voice was sad, Tommy startlingly realized. “It’s been about a year now.”

“That’s not a funny joke, Jack,” Tommy warned.

“I’m not?”

Tommy’s heart dropped, because Jack was serious. Jack truly believed— but that was impossible, because Tommy was just talking to Wilbur. Unless some tragic incident happened in the last two minutes, Wilbur wasn’t dead.

“You’re lying,” Tommy said. “You’re— you’re a—” Tommy stumbled back, legs carrying him away from the counter. Jack was lying. Jack was lying. Jack was lying. Jack was a liar. Tommy was joking around with Wilbur just moments ago.

Tommy couldn’t hear whatever Jack was saying, he didn’t want to, because Jack was lying. Tommy would go outside and Wilbur would be there to ask him what pin he got

Tommy nearly fell through the door, pushing it open and slamming it shut behind him. The slam didn’t register.

“Wilbur?"

Wilbur wasn't there.

#wyt shutupanakin #wilbur #wilbur soot #dsmp #dream smp #crimeboys #crime boys #crime bois #sbi #sleepy boys inc #sleepy bois inc #tommyinnit #tommy #dream

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years ago

Text

Fifteen (pt 7)

A/N: This part contains more season 7 spoilers!

tw: language arguing

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice belonged to Derek.

It wasn’t you. Spencer was foolish to think it would ever be you. He stormed off to the chess table again. He didn’t want any visitors and what was it now? 6:15?

“Reid? I know you’re in there,” Derek called in, but Spencer didn’t move from his position. He didn’t want to see anyone except you, and that wasn’t really an option.

Derek knocked again, harder this time, “Kid I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Spencer still didn’t budge; just staring out the window at the falling snow. If he did talk to Morgan, where would he even start?

“Hey the love of my life moved across the country to get away from me but luckily she left me a box of stuff to cry over!” doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

After Emily went to London, Derek had become a close friend of yours. He became another one of your ‘girlfriends.’ He was who you would rant to when you’d argue with Spencer. He even got invited to ‘Girl's Nights’. When you officially broke up that went from close friends to basically inseparable. At work you’d go wherever Derek went. When you got home, you and Derek would go get drinks, or watch a movie, or literally anything else. When he’d ask where you were JJ would just give him a sad look and say “with Derek.” If Spencer hadn’t known any better he would’ve assumed you had gotten together. But he knew Derek was just being a good friend, letting you lean on him in your time of need.

“Reid? We’re worried about you.”

Still nothing.

Derek sighed, “We gotta talk about Y/N.”

Well that got his attention. He huffed and dropped the stacks of handwritten letters onto the chess table, knocking over several pawns. He opened the door and allowed Derek to enter.

“Are you okay?” Derek started with.

Spencer just looked at him. The bags under his eyes were a deep purplish gray color, and that was answer enough. He looked and felt like shit.

“What do you want to talk about?” His voice was strained and hoarse from all the crying and yelling.

“We gotta talk about how you’re doing with all of this,” Morgan said, gesturing around at the mess of books and mugs that littered the room.

“I’m fine,” Spencer stated plainly, trying to play it cool.

“I know you’re not fine. You’re allowed to not be fine, Reid. You just can’t hold it all in and close me out like you usually do.”

Spencer ran his hands through his hair and sighed before asking the one question he wanted the answer to most.

“Did you know?”

“Did I know what?”

“Did you know she was leaving?”

Derek didn’t answer, which was an answer in and of itself. He knew. You had talked to him about it at length.

“You knew?!” He snapped, “You knew she was leaving and didn’t tell me? You didn’t try to stop her?”

Derek paused, thinking of what he should say.

“I did try to stop her and it worked for a little while. If it weren’t for me she would’ve left a month and a half ago.”

Spencer rolled his eyes.

“She wasn’t happy here, Reid. You and I both know that.” Derek spoke calmly, hoping Spencer would follow suit. He didn’t.

“It was getting better! We were getting better!”

“Better? Reid, you only spoke to her at work as needed. It wasn’t ‘getting better’. It wasn’t fine when she was on mandatory leave for a month and you avoided her. It wasn’t fine when you broke up. It wasn’t fine when she took even more time off and you would show up at her door every night. And when she came back?” Derek took a deep breath, “The two of you could barely be on the jet together. We can’t work like that.”

Spencer nodded sadly, “I know. I was fixing it though. If only she gave me more time...”

“More time? Kid, she gave you two months. As much as I wanted her to stay, I couldn’t make her. She was miserable here. It’s been so hard on her–“

Spencer cut him off shouting, “Hard for her? Yeah Morgan, I know how hard it’s been for her. Did anyone ever think about how hard it was for me too?”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t, I’m just saying she had every right to leave. You blocked her out when she needed you most.”

“Oh is that what she told you? Did she care to mention how she couldn’t respect that I needed space on any of your platonic dates? Is that what they were Derek? Or is she just another body for you?” Spencer sneered, but didn’t actually mean what he said. He was just angry, so fucking angry.

“You know that’s not fair. I took care of her the way you should’ve!”

They just stared at each other, daggers coming from Spencer’s eyes.

“Get out.”

“Reid, c’mon I’m sorr—“

“I said get out,” Spencer practically hissed, knocking the books off his coffee table.

Derek backed away slowly, edging towards the door. Before he left he calmed himself down.

“Whenever you’re ready to talk about this, I’m here. I know you’re mad kid. I do. I miss her too but we can get through this, together.”

Spencer didn’t respond, sitting back at the chess table and staring blankly at the mess of wrinkled letters and chess pieces in front of him. If only this were as easy. He can always predict how many moves it would take to get a checkmate, but there's no magic formula for this. There’s no handbook on heartbreak.

He didn’t even look up to see Derek leave, eyes trained on the letters. He reached out for #6.

“This is a group picture from JJ and Will’s wedding. This is the last time all of us were together. By all of us I mean the core of us: You, Me, JJ, Derek, Dave, Hotch, Penelope, and Emily. I miss those days. The eight of us were unbelievably close. We still are, to some extent. I call Emily when our schedules work and the six hour time difference doesn’t interfere. Derek is my closest friend right now. He let me lean on him so much in the last few months, it’s amazing. I can’t thank him enough. Pen will always be my go-to when I need to smile or laugh or find out someone’s life history. I’ll miss getting advice from JJ. She always knows what to say. I’m sure I’ll ask Rossi for recipes and Hotch for help running the field office. It’s not goodbye. I know I’ll see you all when Seattle gets a crazy serial killer or something else I’ll call you guys for. I love you all. But for now, I just need a break. I need to put down my own roots and not depend on people that I share with you Spence. I need my own people. It’s so hard to go. It is. It’s probably harder than anything else I’ve ever had to do. But it’s for the best. How lucky am I to have friends that make saying goodbye so damn hard?”

He sighed. He completely understood where you were coming from, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, maybe that made it hurt more. He knew that your connections in DC and Virginia were through your group mates. You rarely had the time to go out and make new friends, and now all your friends were also his friends. It was just too complicated.

Part of him was now hoping that a twisted killer would spring up in Seattle soon, just so he would have to see you again. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help smiling at the thought.

“Okay anyways, back to the picture. Back to JJ’s wedding. The most beautiful and fun wedding I have ever been to. It looked beautiful; I expect nothing less from Dave. And you, God, you looked unreal. You always do, like you’re some kind of angel or statue carved by Michelangelo. And in a tuxedo? Otherworldly.

Weddings always make me cry. They just do. Seeing two people love each other so much that they want to spend their lives together is too much for me. I miss feeling like that. I felt like that about you, and this is the night I realized that, among other things.

When you were doing a magic trick with the rings for Henry. The smile on your face had never been wider. He giggled and asked you to do it again and again and you did. And you picked him up and spun him around until he laughed so hard he couldn’t breath.

“Isn’t he just the best with him?”

It was JJ. Stunning, beautiful, bride JJ.

“Yeah, he really is,” I said. I was looking at you dreamily, through the rose-colored glasses I’ve always viewed you through.

“You know he wasn’t always like this?”

“Really?” I didn’t believe her. You were always good with kids for as long as I’d known you, which was not as long as she had.

“Yeah, we used to call it the Reid Effect. Kids and dogs hated him.”

We both stood there admiring you and Henry. I should’ve seen that as my first red flag, but I didn’t. I didn’t see the way she looked at you with the same dreamy expression I had painted on my face. I was too busy falling even deeper in love with you.

“He wants kids, you know?” JJ said.

I nodded, “He told me he wants a village. As many as he can have.”

She smiled and grabbed my arm kindly, “I hope he gets that.”

“I want to give him that.” I blurted it out. I hadn’t even thought about it and suddenly it was out there. She just nodded and walked away, over to her real husband, as I looked at you. My heart was pounding because I saw everything right in front of me.

“Hey Henry!” I said to him, interrupting your precious play time, “How are you dude?”

He smiled and shook his adorably long hair around. Seriously I don’t think any other kid can pull off that hair but him.

“I’m good! Uncle Spencer showed me a magic trick.”

“Well can I see the magic trick, Uncle Spencer?” I said, squatting down to Henry’s level. You grinned at us, taking the ring out and making it magically disappear and reappear.

“How do you do it?” Henry clapped.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” You said, squatting down with us and giving him the ring, “You can’t lose this Henry, okay? Mommy and Daddy really need it.”

He nodded and held onto that ring for dear life.

That’s when I realized I wanted you to be the father of my kids. You’re so good with him. It makes my heart hurt to know that you will never be the father of my kids. You’ll be the best dad, Spence. I mean that.”

A dull ache bloomed around Spencer’s heart. He didn’t want kids unless they were with you. And you had gotten so close. It killed him to know that he was so close, but somehow so far away.

“When we sat together, holding hands, watching JJ and Will devote their lives to one another, you squeezed mine. When we stood up to clap for them after their first kiss as man and wife, you snaked one arm around my waist and whispered “I love you, Love” to me. I could see that being us. White dress, flowers, rings, everyone we love watching us be in love. Derek would be your best man and Penelope would catch the bouquet. I could see it. Honestly, I still kind of can. At that moment, I realized that I wanted to marry you. I realized that I wanted to spend every moment of my time on Earth with you, Spencer. I wanted the house with the white picket fence. I wanted Christmas mornings with a village of kids. I wanted me and you, ninety years old in a nursing home still holding hands. I wanted forever with you and even that just didn’t seem long enough. It still doesn’t. Time always seems to get away from me.

I didn’t tell you how I felt. I should have. That night I should’ve taken you aside and kissed you and asked you to marry me. I should’ve grabbed that minister before he left and kept us together. I wanted to spend my life with you so badly, Spence. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. But I didn’t. God, I wish I did.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, memories of that wedding and so many other moments hitting him hard. He wished you had done all that; he wished he had done all of that.

“I saw something that I also never told you about. And that thing is what stopped me in my tracks that night. We had taken a break from dancing. I went to get a drink and you were sitting at the table. You were watching JJ. You had a look in your eyes that I know well, because I saw it in my own every time I looked at you for years. Longing. Coincidentally it was the same way she was looking at you just hours before. On her wedding day. Minutes before she got married.

I almost dropped my glass.

I always had a sneaking suspicion that there was something between you two, but I never pressed it. She was your best friend, like Derek is to me. You guys were almost inseparable when I joined. I used to say you were like Woody and Jessie. A dynamic duo. I realized then that it was more than that for you. There was more than a sibling love shared between you. I only ever knew JJ as a devoted mom. I knew her post Will and Henry, so of course you guys were just friends, right? I mean you’re her son’s Godfather. And it was her wedding Spence. You looked at her with love in your eyes as she devoted her life to a man who isn’t you. I had half a heart to stomp up to you and pick a fight, but using my better judgement I decided to believe that whatever was there was long over, just a meaningless crush. Well, I was wrong. Things that never begin can’t end, Spence. But there you were, staring at her the same way I stared at you a million times.

That was the first time you broke my heart, Spencer Reid, and you didn’t even know it. I didn’t approach you. I didn’t trust myself to keep it together. It felt like you reached into my chest to rip my heart in half. I fumbled back to the bar, suppressed my tears and sipped my drink as I watched. I watched you go and steal JJ for a dance. An innocent little dance for the only person in the world who calls you ‘Spence’. Except I also call you Spence, and so do so many other people. But you only care about it coming from her. I watched you tense up as you put your arms around her. I wanted to hurl. After a few minutes of watching you and your two left feet dance with the bride. I went inside.

That’s where I saw Emily.

Talk about a whirlwind of a night.

We all knew coming back from the dead had been hard for her. Who wouldn’t have a hard time? She was going to see a therapist and seemed to be getting better. She had us. She had Sergio. She was going to be okay. That night she was off, and I know Em when she’s off. She was watching all of us like we were in a fish bowl, like she was an outsider. I had to talk to her.

“What’s going on Em?” I asked her.

She just avoided my gaze and I sat next to her, holding her hand, half for myself and half for her. “I got offered a job in London. Chief of their Interpol office.”

She still didn’t look at me and I squeezed it. I knew she was leaving, again.

“You’re taking it?”

She just nodded, “Yeah, I-I just need to talk to Hotch I guess.”

I nodded. I wasn’t mad at her. I was just sad. It felt like we just got her back, and she was leaving again. I don’t know how much more leaving the team can take. I’m sorry for leaving too.

“What’s going on with you, Y/N?” She asked me, clearly she was able to tell that I was distraught, “Is it me leaving?”

I shook my head, forcing the tears to stay inside, “No, not you. You should go. You should be happy.”

She sighed and said something then that I didn’t understand at the time. Now I do though.

She said “I just can’t grab onto my old life and pretend that nothing happened.”

I feel the exact same way right now. I can’t hold onto my old life. My life with you. And pretend that I’m not a different person now. I am. Maybe I’m not a better person, but I am definitely a different person. And I think I need to leave, just like Em, to go learn how to be that person now. You can’t fit a square peg into a round hole, and that’s what I’ve felt like for the last few months. I feel wrong. I can’t survive a life I built with you without you. So now it’s time for a new one.

So here’s the photograph of the last time we were all together. Admire it. Remember it. Miss it, I know I will. We’ll never be like that again.”

Spencer paused and looked at the photo, taking it all in. You were next to him with your arm on his chest, and his arm was around your waist, but he wasn’t leaning into you. He was leaning into JJ; classic ‘I’m attracted to you’ body language. He felt gross.

He remembered that night and how distant you had been once you came back from the bar. You barely spoke, barely even looked at him. You hung around the bar much more than you usually would. He assumed it was because of Emily, but now it made so much more sense. He wished you would’ve told him so he could’ve told you that he did have feelings for JJ at some point in time, but they didn’t hold a candle to how he felt about you. If JJ was a flame, you were a forest fire.

He didn’t know about any of your feelings that night. He felt the same way of course. He knew he wanted to marry you the second you showed him those film festival tickets. He was certain he would marry you, and he almost had. You didn’t know that though. You didn’t know how he wanted you, and he didn’t know how you wanted him in the same way. How terribly sad it is when two people love each other but end up two worlds apart.

It dawned on him that it seemed he didn’t know about your feelings a lot of the time. You just took him on a roller coaster, from being absolutely ready to marry him to being heartbroken, to being double heartbroken because you were losing yet another person. Maybe he never did really understand you the way he thought he did.

The photo was wrinkled on the corners and had “JJ&Will” and the date written on the back in the same handwriting that he had been pouring over for hours now. Your handwriting. He took it to the cork board and put it right next to the film festival ticket. He decided to put the locket and the book in front of the board too, collecting all the pieces of you he had left in one place. Kind of like a little shrine to the love he once knew.

He stared at the photo some more. The way Garcia held onto Derek. The way Hotch was smiling with his whole face, something he didn’t see often. The way Rossi held Hotch and Derek’s shoulders like they were his own. Emily on the end next to you, smiling the last genuine smile he had ever seen from her. His heart ached. That family was still there, just in different places now.

Family. What an interesting word that means so many different things to so many different people. To Spencer, it meant those people in that photograph. He had lost Emily, lost you, and he was done losing his family. He picked up his phone, which was at 27% percent. Just as you said, it was never above 30. He plugged it in as he sent a message to Derek.

“Meet me at 8”

And then he waited.

Part 8!

taglist: @l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings @ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #reid #dr spencer reid #reid fic #spencer reid one shot #mgg #matthew gray gubler #cm #cm fic #spencer reid x reader

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pollyannisms · 4 years ago

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DISCORD HEADCANON DUMP

Ángela falls strictly into the Iceberg category, where promotion is off the table entirely because she is too valuable for the foundation where she is. Unless another version of her comes along, they would never find another person to do what she does with the same efficiency and fearlessness. It's like, how many forensic pathologists would be happy and willing to climb into the giant decomposing chest cavity of a potentially dangerous anomaly to get an insight on what it was that put them down? Not many besides Ángela, that's for sure!

Okay, this is more of a general headcanon than one which applies to a Ángela alone. Still, I'm of the firm opinion that any researcher/doctor/security officer/etc. Who fits the profile of a 'team-leader (i.e. has assistant workers, trains future workers as a part of an apprenticeship program, etc.) has the additional duty of monitoring the workers under them, in addition to whatever job they are expected to perform, and reporting any concerning/dissenting/anti-social/overly-cruel or generally problem behaviour to the Ethical Enforcers before it becomes a more significant issue for the foundation at large. And it's from these reports that things like mandatory psych evaluations, increased surveillance, etc., are often borne.

So, for example, let's say one of the forensic assistants under Ángela began vocally experiencing a higher degree of humanization of the individuals and anomalies they autopsy and expressing a great amount of guilt over it. Ángela would be obligated by her duty to report this to the ethics team, and they from there would schedule a psych evaluation for the individual in question, and advise Ángela to keep herself open if they need support in the mean time. From there though the ethics team and psych team would evaluate whether the employee was fit to continue their work or posed a danger to themselves, others or the foundation as a whole and consider taking steps from there.

A lot of the time when people in the foundation talk about O5 having ‘eyes’ everywhere, it’s in reference to these sorts of mandatory reporters.

Ángela is in charge of choosing her team members (aka. forensic assistants to help her move bodies around, take measurements, etc.), and I think she is VERY VERY picky about who she takes and doesn’t.

Though this is because she does a lot of the grosser, more gruesome and dangerous aspects of the job that no one else wants to do (and therefore gets pushed off onto her), and she doesn’t want to have anyone go with her, who she can’t rely on in a pinch and who can’t bear the emotional burden of her job. iii

Prompt: For researchers; What was their favorite SCP assigned to them and why? Do any stick out in their memory? Why? What did they do and what were they?

Ángela’s favourite SCP and also most heartbreaking assignment was SCP-8699 or The Living Dead. They were a humanoid anomaly that was inanimate most of the time but became animate during instances of a full moon. Which weird as it is, wasn’t their anomalous trait. It was the fact that they could not be killed by brute force, but could not regenerate themselves, actively decayed like a corpse but remained alive during full-moon periods, felt no pain and seemed to know nothing about itself other than that it existed, but seemed incapable of understanding that it should’ve been dead.

They were given to Ángela during an entirely separate SCP investigation and were undergoing an examination to create a link between said aforementioned SCP and themselves - but regained animation and sentience on the exam table. Causing Ángela’s crew to evacuate the lab and Ángela to retreat into the observation room to trigger the breach in progress alarm. Though, to Ángela’s surprise, rather than attempting to break into the observation room to try and kill her, they ripped off their EKG and hid under the exam table and seemed terrified, crying and shaking and trying to cover themselves.

Ángela, being Ángela and seeing this, turned on the speakers in the lab from the observation room and did her best to comfort the SCP, and directed them to some extra lab coats she kept in case of emergencies and talked with them, and between the jigs and the reels, managed to calm them down, explained they weren’t in trouble and that there had been a mistake, and played four games of tic-tac-toe before the security team finally got to the lab and secured 8699 and rescued Ángela.

Though on their way to move 8699, dawn broke, and they reverted to an inanimate corpse once again. Ángela, with backing from her superiors, decided warranted further observation, and thus the pattern was detected, and they were classified!

Sadly though, Ángela and her team had to classify them as Khonsu, and due to their natural decay, 8699 was fully neutralized within two years of their discovery. Much to the heartbreak of the time assigned to them, as they were lovable in their way. Like, they were this 2.3 metre tall emaciated, rotting corpse that wouldn’t look out of place in a horror movie, with the mental maturity of a child and this sunshiny disposition and an apparent inability to understand the situation they were in entirely. I mean, how can you not love a shy, gentle giant that tries to hide behind its researcher that’s half its size.

What Ángela remembers about them the most though was when she was ordered to carry out a complete autopsy of them during one of their periods on apparent inactivity, as they were functionally dead and therefore able to be conducted without the possibility of excessive pain or cruelty. Before the dissection, though, Ángela, with backing from the Ethics committee, chose to have a meeting with 8699 and told them everything she was going to have to do and stressed that they were allowed to say no to anything ‘too invasive’ and the ethics committee would make sure she wouldn’t have to do it. But they didn’t care, they just shook their head and shrugged it off, saying ‘No, it’s fine, I won’t feel it anyways and I trust you, you’ll put me back together again,’ to which Ángela was like

Something unintentionally uncovered by the 8699, though, was that Ángela seems to have anosmia because, even when 8699 was falling into goo and bones and ‘reeked to the high heavens,’ so much so that they had to give it an airtight containment chamber. Ángela was able to remain in close contact with them and even eat in their presence.

Prompt: What was the scariest or most traumatic moment that your character has had to live through and how did they respond to the trauma in that moment?

For Ángela, there are four options for this question. There was the moment she found her older brother’s dead body bloated and disfigured and unrecognizable as him if it wasn’t for the crucifix necklace he always wore, which left her, well, non-functioning. She disconnected from her peers and family, developed depression, mentally regressed in terms of maturity, and developed muteness for the better part of 3 years following. In her defense, what she saw was horrifying for a child, and she wasn’t given trauma or therapy in the aftermath to help her cope.

- there was the incident that triggered her abduction hiring by the Foundation, which left her incredibly rattled and nervous about resuming her work for months following (though, with help from available counselling and therapy, she moved past that trauma and was able to return to work)- there was the first-ever containment breach she was a part of

- where one of the patients she and her team were working on suddenly returned to life and sunk its teeth into her coworker’s throat—causing him to bleed out. She and her team members to have to leave him to it, which was the reason for her first promotion and was the incident that made it sink in that she wasn’t working for the government anymore and that the SCP Foundation was much more dangerous than she could have ever prepared for. Sometimes she still has nightmares about that assistant grasping at his neck desperately and trying to claw his way to the door to escape with them, only to be dragged back into the lab by the anomaly-infected corpse and the sound he made, oh god, the sound. Something between a wet rattle and a wheeze as he tried to cry for help despite his open wound.

And there was the lead up to 8699’s neutralization. See, before it’s death, it had requested Ángela visited them in the Foundation’s equivalent of a hospice center in Site 17, and she went. She used her vacation days and headed over, and things were going great! 8699 remembered Ángela and has perked up the moment it recognized her, and they chatted, about her team, the non-classified information about the site, how the flowers looked. The birds were coming home for spring, and things seemed, well, great, despite the ever-present vibe of forthcoming death.

Then something happened- she couldn’t tell you what, but something clicked in 8699, like the gravity of the situation finally dawned on them, and they asked her to get closer. Given their history of non-violence and friendliness, was obliged by Ángela, and they spilled everything they knew about themselves and how they came to be what they were, which took Ángela by surprise and left her shocked. Never before had they lied. They were forthright, almost childishly so, so it seemed so strange. Then they said they had to give her something and began hacking and coughing violently. They seized and sputtered and Ángela, being a smart cookie, tried backing up.

At this point, she was terrified. 8699 wasn’t acting like themselves. They didn’t seem like themselves, they were more erratic, agitated, and she didn’t know if they were going to try and attack her or not. But 8699, despite retching like it was trying to heave it’s organs through its mouth, grabbed her wrist and held her with a strength she couldn’t get out of. At that moment, her entire life flashed before her eyes. It was like every mistake she had ever made fit into one jigsaw puzzle, and she understood that she was going to die here with this SCP she underestimated. But, instead of attacking her, 8699 just produced this group of 6 polished gems and shoved them into her hand before letting go, and Ángie just fell to the ground.

She was in such a state of shock that it wasn’t until the security team put her into a quarantine that she understood what the fuck had even happened. Shortly after that, this apparent attack 8699 entered inactivity for the final time and never returned to an animated state.

Prompt: What is your character’s opinion on the armed guards buzzing around the facility? Are they intimidated by them? Do they enjoy them? Know them by name? Or do they pity them?

Regarding the guards, Ángela has divided emotions. On the one hand, she fears their guns but pities them as people. They’re often so young and unequipped to deal with these situations, promised this exciting, lucrative career, only to be treated as d-class with guns.

She, in equal measures, wants to hug them and tell them to run for the hills and mutter under their breath about their foolishness. But this is more so directed at what she sees in them that reminds her of her. In practice, she’s kind and a bit maternal to many of them - popping her head into the guard breakroom at the beginning of her shifts to say hi, before scampering off to do her thing and always remembering their names and birthdays.

EXCEPT in the case of the guards assigned to her. Those guys, good lord, she hates those guys. They always respond to her breach in progress alarms like five minutes late, they make scathing comments and insults, they think she can’t hear when she works late, take smoke breaks every ten minutes, even though she knows neither smoke. She loathes them, but she would never give them the satisfaction of knowing that, no, she chooses to kill them with kindness as ineffective as that is!

Prompt: What’re your character’s opinions on anomalies? Most notably sentient, however can apply to all. Broad, but here’s something’s to detail: - Are they evil? Are they “out to get us”? - Should they be contained, or let free, or neutralised? Where’s the line between “possible staff”, “must be contained”, and “must be neutralised”? - Should they have the same rights as standard humans? - What’re their opinions on free-roaming passive SCPs, or anomalous personnel? - Where did they come from? Was it a “someone” or “something” that created them all? Do they simply just exist? - Do they believe any SCP-001 proposals? If they do, which? If they don’t, why not?

-Ángela subscribes to the Gears school of thought regarding anomalies, their nature and their inherent maliciousness. In that, she doesn’t believe they’re a part of some ‘conspiracy’ against humanity, some pawn in an unfathomable being’s game of chess, etc. Ángela is of the opinion that they simply are. In the same way, animals simply are. They exist because they exist, and their nature is what it is.

She doesn’t believe that anomalies can choose to be the way they are and feels that expecting them to be different and conform to a human morality, behaviour, or culture is a waste of time applying human morality, behaviour, and culture to them.

- Ángela feels they (the anomalies) should be contained for both the safety of humanity AND the anomaly themselves in equal measure. See, the world is harsh, and humanity can be cruel, and while many anomalies can defend themselves against this fact of life, or at least blend in well enough with civilization to go unnoticed. Many can’t and need the protection, stability, steady supply of sustenance, etc. The facilities provide them.

Regarding the lines of neutralization, containment and staff treatment- it’s hard to say generally, as Ángie feels it should be handled on a case by case basis, which factors in all perspectives about the situation. From risk vs reward, the financial aspect, the human cost, the opinions and desires of the anomaly in question and whether or not it would cause undue suffering in the anomaly.

By and large, though, she thinks a lot more sentient, low-security risk anomalies (i.e. 073) should be given the option to seek a profession within the foundation and be allowed to strive for a semi-normal life with privileges such as forming relationships, having friendships, hanging out, taking sick/lazy days, etc. Because, while they are objects, they’re also people - and their anomaly shouldn’t invalidate their personhood. At least, not as far as she’s concerned.

- This is another case-by-case type of question. For humanoid and or sentient SCPs that have proven themselves to be the most baseline, minimal threat in Foundation Security and Staff safety - then yes. She feels they should be given civil liberties and human rights like any other person in the foundation. For anything beyond that, though? Hard pass. Though they should still be acknowledged as people, they should not be handed rights and liberties - ESPECIALLY In the case of entities that have proven themselves to be manipulative, repeat breachers, violent, etc. It’s playing with fire and, while certainly morally questionable, is a necessary evil.

- Ángela honestly doesn’t care that much. In some cases, it can take her back a bit (like coming into contact with a humanoid pigeon that is at least a head taller than her), but she’ll get used to it. This all being said, though, there are some free-range SCP’s Ángela can’t help but feel nervous in the presence of. She tries to bite back the feeling and deny its existence, but it does exist. Have faith that it does.

- In short, yes. To elaborate, though, Ángela believes every anomaly is made by something. Though whether that thing is another entity, nature itself, the universe, a paradox, rip in space-time, etc. Is all a matter of debate and a case by case basis.

- Ángela has an SCP-001 proposal of her own, and I’ll leave it at that! Haha

#headcanon tbt #~lore~

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loveisblindfanfictionbka · 4 years ago

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Love Is Blind: Chapter Five

Chris grabbed a large box from his postmaster and placed it into the back seat of his truck.

“Daddy, what’s that?” Anesa asked.

“Not sure yet. I wasn’t expecting anything in the mail.”

“Oh. Are we gonna get our puppy today?”

“No, we’ll gonna get one on Friday. The only place that has the dog you want is in the city so we’ll go after my afternoon class.”

“Friday? That’s so many days away, Daddy.”

“I know Love Bug but we’re not going into the city until next week so you’ll have to wait.”

“But Daddy.”

“Anesa, we’re not having this conversation. You’ve waited all this time for a puppy, you can wait a few more days, ok?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good. So what do you want for lunch?”

“Cheese sticks and french fries.”

“You gonna turn into a cheese stick; you keep eating them so much, “ Chris replied with a chuckle as he pulled out of the post office parking lot.

Chris went into his office as Anesa plopped down in front of the TV. He grabbed the box and set it on top of the coffee table then sat down on the couch in front of it. He carefully slit open the top and smiled at the note “You indulged one of my hidden passions, why not indulge yours? Hope you like it (wink).” Chris dug into the box and pulled out a luxury model train set then a collection of various Jazz compilations on vinyl.

“Wow….this woman went all out,” he murmured to himself. He grabbed his phone and took a picture of the gifts before sending it as an attachment through the dating chat. A few minutes passed before he got a response

A: I was wondering if it got there in time

C: This is incredible and way more than what I got you

A: Actually it’s even steven. I looked up how much those poetry collections cost by the way

C: Totally not the same

A: It’s exactly the same.

C: Thank you, Anna

A: You are definitely welcome. So did you get the puppy?

C: We are picking him up on Friday

A: Cool. What did you get?

C; A maltipoo

A: Oh.

C: He is a shelter dog. It sounded like that was something important to you

A: That’s awesome

C; So what are you up to?

A: Nothing. Trying to decide what I’m gonna do for the upcoming two weeks

C: Something new happening?

A: It is my annual office ban.

C: Office ban?

A: My friends and employees got together a few years ago and decided the only way to force me to take time off was to ban me from the office. So they literally take my keys and ban me from coming into work

C: Lol Wow. Are you really a workaholic like that?

A: I like being busy and they hate it

C: Are you busy because you really like your job or you’re hiding?

A: Depends on the day

C: Ah. Do you only take off during this annual ban?

A: Yes

C: Maybe if you got out more, they’d get off your back

A: that’s possible. How was work?

C: I canceled classes today

A: Why?

C: Spring Break starts this week. I usually do classes remotely during the week prior to Spring Break to give my students a longer break but I do keep my office hours so I’ll be on campus Friday, that’s why we’re waiting to get the dog then

A: What do you usually do during a break?

C: Well with the new pet, we’ll probably be getting accustomed to the house but usually we go and visit my sister so Anesa can play with her cousins and such.

A: Does your sister live in NY?

C: Yea, she’s a little further upstate, towards Albany

A: How many additional hours of driving?

C: About another 2 or 3 hours

A: Oh that’s not too bad.

C: Yea. You sound surprised.

A: I was expecting something like away from home vacation

C: I have one scheduled for her birthday in the summer so we’re playing it lowkey for right now

A: Ah, that sounds awesome

C: Why don’t you go on a vacation?

A: I don’t know where I would go. It’s not like I really wanna be around people

C: You could always rent a villa or something and just relax alone

A: That’s true. Any recommendations?

C: Depends on your taste. In the states or another country? Busy or remote? A lot of adventure or quiet activities?

A: Another country. Remote. Quiet.

C: Cannes is nice this time of year especially on the outskirts of the town

A: Cannes, France?’

C: Yea. Is that a problem?

A: No, I’ve always wanted to go there but I never made it

C: Really? I went the year before I got Anesa. Sort of a soul-searching thing

A: How was it?

C: It was beautiful. A nice mix of people and solitude.

A: I might think about it then

C: It is a nice spot for a European vacation

A: Sounds like it. Thanks for the suggestion

C: Not a problem. I can forward you a link to some vacation rentals if you would like

A: That'd be great.

They fell silent for a few moments before Chris started typing again

C: Can I tell you something?

A: Sure.

C: This the closest I’ve ever felt to someone in the last few years. I really appreciate your company

A: That is really sweet, Chris. I appreciate yours as well. It feels good to talk to someone and not feel like I’m crazy or having them think I’m depressed

C: I know the feeling. Sometimes we just have to take our time to get back to where we used to be

A: I don’t think I ever wanna go back to where I used to be

C: You might have to, to get to where you wanna be. Healing has to start at the source

A: And next you’re gonna say that healing hurts

C: It can especially if you have to face some truths that you don’t want to face

A: I guess that’s true.

C: You should really give some deep thought about speaking to your ex or at least to a therapist to get the feelings out. You deserve to be angry and you deserve to be angry at him. Holding it in doesn’t make you as noble as you think.

A: I don’t believe I’m being noble

C: I think you do. I think you think no lashing out makes you more mature when it just makes you more angry. Listen, if he walked away to save you from himself, why are you still letting that torture you?

A: I don’t know

C: Healing isn’t for the other person, it's for you. You deserve to be happy, that’s why you agreed to the divorce, isn’t it? You wanted to be happy too

A: I agreed to the divorce because I didn’t want to face the fact that he didn’t want me

C: So you would’ve stayed?

A: Absolutely. Sometimes you meet a person and they’re just-

C: It. I know.

A: I know something was going on with him, I could feel it but I couldn’t fix it. I didn’t want to be a failure

C: And it wasn’t your job to fix it

A: I could’ve been more supportive.

C: Do you really think that?

A: When he shut down, I shut down too. I can admit that

C: Which is understandable

A: but not helpful. You don’t have to say it

C: Listen, nobody blames you for trying to stay unscathed. Damaged people can be hard to deal with. I know I wasn’t. I was moody and anxious all the time. Never wanted to talk. Never wanted to do anything. That could drive anybody crazy

A: It just about did

C: Anna, you needed to protect yourself. That’s not failure. You should never sacrifice yourself in that manner. In the whole picture, maybe he should’ve been better and actually spoke to you to do better but at the time, his only option may have been to let you go. That’s not failure. That’s survival

A: Boy, am I glad you can’t see me

C: Lol, why you say that?

A: Because I am a crying mess right now

C: Aww...I’m sorry.

A: No, it’s fine. I just never heard it quite like that. Like I knew it wasn’t my job to fix him but I felt so guilty about leaving even though he was pushing me away

C: When you really love and care about someone, that happens. There’s nothing wrong with that. I think so often we get wrapped in our own pain that we don’t realize how our distance affects others. Was he a bad guy prior to then?

A: No, he was the sweetest and funniest person. He just became so cold and empty. Like literally you couldn’t see any life in his eyes

C: Do you think he didn’t love you?

A: He did love me. I could see it breaking him to tell me to leave but it wasn’t strong enough

C: Then that’s what you need to hold on to. There’s nothing wrong with loving him. And there’s nothing wrong with being angry with him either. You have a right to be but you also have the power to deal with it and determine how you react to it.

A; You’re absolutely right

C: I think you really should go on a vacation and just take some time to yourself. Some of the locations out there are remote enough that you could stand outside and scream for hours. You need to release it

A: Then what do I do after that?

C: You live. And be happy. And that doesn’t mean you have to date or fall in love with anyone other than yourself. You don’t have to let your anger be your only connection to him, that’s what your love is for.

A: You still love your ex-wife

C: I do.

A: She was it for you, wasn’t she?

C: She was. Still is.

A: How’d you let go?

C: Physically? I distanced myself. I moved out of our old house, I stayed away from our old friends. Emotionally? I still haven’t learned how to

A: Does that part ever get easier?

C: No but I just try and bury it, which probably isn’t healthy but I can’t have her, you know.

A: Did you ever try?

C: Honestly, I don’t know what to say. Besides, I don’t deserve another chance

A: Isn’t that for her to decide?

C: You’re right.

A: I know you think you’re protecting her but lying, even by omission, never helps. You wanna know what to say? The truth. Tell her everything. That much you do owe her.

C: You’re right

A: Who needs a therapist when we got each other?

C: LOL, you are right again. Thanks for the gifts and your gift

A: My gift?

C: Your friendship. It’s refreshing, haven’t felt like this in a long time

A: You’re very welcome. Same to you.

C: I guess I should let you go then

A: You don’t have to if you don’t want to. What else you wanna talk about?

C: How about your connect for these vinyls?

A: Lol

Omg Daddy, look at all the puppies,” Anesa said as she squeezed his hand with delight, “can I get more than one?

“No. We agreed on one puppy and that’s all.”

“Yes Daddy. Is the one I want here?”

“Yup. The shelter manager says that he’s getting checked out right now and then we’ll be able to take him and go.

“Yay!”

Chris chuckled, “no yelling inside, Nesa.”

“Oops.”

A blonde woman walked over to him with a clipboard, “My name is Alexis. How may we help you?”

“Hi. We have an appointment to pick up a Maltipoo named Shep.”

“He is in the back with our resident vet. She runs the clinic next door. Would you like to come back and see him?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Follow me.”

Chris and Anesa followed the employee farther back into a vet office. Just as they stopped in the doorway behind Alexis, the doctor looked up.

“Robyn?”

“Chris?”

#chrianna #loveisblindfanfiction

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Text

Hey guys! Normally I just jump right into my gameplay posts and then put in additional notes at the end, but for this particular set of gameplay posts I plan to do, I think I’ll need to do the notes first.

This upcoming series will be based on the Quidditch sidequest “Quest for the Quidditch Cup.” (And will be tagged thusly!) Normally the game HPHM sets this in our first year playing Quidditch, circa year 2...but not only am I well past year 2, but I’ve written some lore about Carewyn and her relationship with the Slytherin Quidditch team that goes against this particular side quest’s plot line. Here are bullet points!

Carewyn was introduced to Quidditch Friendlies in third year through Penny, and also received training from Skye. She even played as a substitute Chaser in Slytherin’s match against Hufflepuff in her third year.

After Skye made up rumors about Erika Rath, however, Carewyn and Skye had a pretty substantive falling-out, given Carewyn’s over-sensitivity to bullying. Not wanting to cause further drama for Orion’s team but not wanting to stand by Skye’s behavior, Carewyn quietly withdrew from the Slytherin Quidditch team, allowing the original Chaser to take back their spot for the last two matches of the season.

Carewyn has continued to play in Quidditch friendlies as a Chaser (often against or alongside Ravenclaw Keeper Andre and Gryffindor Seeker Charlie), but has not tried to take back a spot on the Slytherin Quidditch team again.

Orion -- who Carewyn is incredibly fond of, partially because of how much he reminds her of her brother Jacob -- has every-so-often tried to bring Carewyn back into the fold, but Carewyn has been reluctant to commit, partly because of her hyper-focus on the Vaults and partly because of her strained relationship with Skye.

Age-wise, I have written Murphy, Skye, and Orion as all being a year older than Carewyn (hence why we don’t see them in any of her classes). These gameplays will take place toward the end of year 6 well after that certain Redacted event, even though I haven’t reached that point in the game yet, because Carewyn is currently in year 6, but the last game of the Quidditch season would have to take place in the spring. This is also why Orion isn’t two years ahead of Carewyn -- if he were, he’d be graduated already! I do see him being born toward the end of the year, though, so he would still be the eldest of the three Quidditch characters. XD; Because of the timing, Carewyn will have just completed her character arc where she’s learned to open up a bit more to her friends at this point too and is no longer shutting her friends out of what’s going on with R or the Cursed Vaults. I also fortunately don’t have much interest in writing any further Quidditch plotlines with Carewyn, so I won’t have to worry about writing any contradictory season 2 gameplays. (If nothing else, Carewyn would be a GOD-AWFUL Beater.)

With all this out of the way...let the games begin!

~x~x~x~x~

[Carewyn had had to deal with a lot of unexpected things that year, but one thing she certainly had not been expecting was receiving an owl from Orion Amari. The Slytherin Quidditch Captain would reach out to her sometimes when she was playing in Quidditch friendlies or otherwise visiting the Quidditch Pitch, but they almost never collided in the hallways of Hogwarts themselves, partly because Orion was a year older than her, but also because Orion just seemed to operate on his own schedule. Carewyn sometimes wondered if he Broom-Surfed through life, rather than walking like ordinary people did.

Regardless, when Carewyn arrived in the Great Hall to meet Orion, she found him already there, sitting at the end of the Slytherin table with Quidditch commentator Murphy McNully.]

Murphy: “Been a long time! I haven’t seen you since the final Quidditch friendly last year -- reckon your team would’ve had only a 0.5% chance of victory, if you hadn’t been able to hit the Quaffle past the Keeper with your broom just before the opposing Seeker caught the Snitch...1% at the most...”

“(politely) It’s good to see you too, McNully.”

[Carewyn turned to Orion, looking a bit more serious.]

“I heard about Skye’s injury. What happened? I heard some people say Rath hit Skye with a Bludger...but I just can’t see Rath doing something like that on purpose: she could get banned from Quidditch for actively trying to target an opposing team’s player like that.”

[Orion nodded solemnly, his gaze very pensive.]

Orion: “Your thought process has some merit, Carewyn...but I’m afraid we really can’t know for sure. We have only two witnesses to the event -- Rath and Skye -- with two versions of the truth. One says it was an accident, the other purposeful.”

“(frowns) But those two things contradict each other. They can’t both be the truth.”

Orion: “They are both their truths. In any case, the result is the same, and our Chaser was injured.”

[Carewyn couldn’t entirely agree with this -- she would feel a lot better knowing it was an accident rather than Rath getting away scot-free with hurting one of Slytherin’s players...but really, such a sentiment was pretty typical for Orion, and there was a lot more to discuss.

Her gaze drifted down to the table in front of her absently as she leaned her arms against the wood.]

“...Is Skye all right?”

Orion: “Physically, yes -- Madame Pomfrey says she’ll make a full recovery. Emotionally, however, I would not say so, given that Madame Pomfrey also has said she will not be well enough to play in the match.”

[Carewyn’s heart clenched.]

“So she’ll miss the Quidditch final. Your last Quidditch final, ever.”

Murphy: “(grimly) The math would seem to suggest it. At present I’d say there’s only a 23% chance Skye would be able to play, and about 19.9% of that factors in Skye actively ignoring Madame Pomfey’s instructions. And if she did that, I’d say Slytherin would only have a 3% chance of victory.”

[Carewyn felt a wave of empathy wash over her. She may have had her differences with Skye, and she didn’t regret distancing herself from her...but at the same time, she knew how much Quidditch and especially the Quidditch Cup meant to her. Slytherin had been knocked out of the running for the Quidditch Final several times the last few years, largely by Gryffindor, since their team had Quidditch prodigy Charlie as their Seeker. But this year, Charlie had not had his head in the game (for rather obvious reasons), and so Slytherin had finally gotten the opening they needed. But facing Ravenclaw in the Quidditch Final would be no easy task...and, Carewyn thought, Skye had to be absolutely miserable, being stuck on the sidelines at the exact moment when Slytherin finally had a chance to earn the Cup they’d fought so hard for.

Murphy glanced at Orion out the side of his eye critically.]

[Orion gave a single, slow nod.]

[He turned to Carewyn with a wry smile.]

Orion: “...And she is sitting with us at this moment.”

[Carewyn blinked in surprise. Murphy brightened up instantly, looking at Carewyn with a large smile.]

Murphy: “Yes! That’d be brilliant! With your high record of goal scoring and your overall speed, Carewyn, you’d easily improve Slytherin’s odds by a good 31.6%!”

[Despite Murphy’s enthusiasm, Carewyn couldn’t make herself smile back.]

“I don’t know...”

Orion: “(seriously) Carewyn...you have dismissed me several times in the past, but I urge you to hear me out fully before you make your decision. You first left our team because of a personal dispute with Skye, and although I lament it, I also respect that you wanted our team to succeed, and you thought that withdrawing with grace would be the best way to do that. Now, however, we are in dire straits. We need someone who can fill Skye’s role on our team. You trained with Skye. You have consistently played well in every Quidditch friendly you have participated in. And you also more than embody the integrity needed both to lead and to follow -- to place the good of your team over glory for yourself. It’s the reason I asked you to choose our strategy in the match against Hufflepuff three years ago...and it’s the reason both Skye and I believe you should be our third Chaser, in this match against Ravenclaw.”

[This took Carewyn completely aback.]

“Skye said I should?”

[Orion smiled, his dark eyes twinkling with an oddly soft glint.]

Orion: “She urged me to try to convince you. Believe it or not...Skye has lamented the loss of you on our team even more than I have.”

[Carewyn’s narrowed blue eyes drifted off vaguely in the direction of the far wall as she took this in.]

If she felt that way, she should’ve made things right with Rath, then.

[Despite the stubborn irritation lashing at her insides, though, she couldn’t help but feel slightly touched, all the same. To think that Skye would’ve insisted Carewyn fill her spot -- Carewyn knew full well how much Quidditch meant to Skye...so her trusting Carewyn with her spot on the team, right before such an important match...]

I know how hard it is to trust others. It hasn’t been easy for me...even now...it’s not easy, for me. If Skye trusts me that much...if Orion and McNully trust me that much...

[Meeting the Circle of Khanna in the Three Broomsticks and feeling their expectant eyes all on her rippled over Carewyn’s mind. It brought the feeling of responsibility back down onto her shoulders -- that heavy weight that nonetheless made her want to stand even taller, so as to meet that burden.]

I can’t turn my back on them, when they need me.

[There was a new strength in her posture and shoulders as her gaze rose to meet Orion’s.]

“...All right. I’m in.”

[Orion’s dark eyes lit up like stars. His face broke into a large, bright smile and he reached across the table to take hold of Carewyn’s arm, squeezing it affectionately.]

Orion: “It will be a privilege to fly alongside you in my final match at Hogwarts, Carewyn.”

[Carewyn smiled in return, her blue eyes softening visibly. Murphy looked delighted as well.]

Murphy: “Not to mention how exciting it’ll be for my final match as a commentator! Carewyn Cromwell, swooping in just in time to nab Slytherin the Quidditch Cup for the first time in ten years!”

[His expression then turned a lot more business-like.]

Murphy: “We won’t get that great story, though, unless Slytherin wins.”

[Carewyn frowned deeply and nodded. She was well aware -- Gryffindor had opposed Ravenclaw in the Quidditch Cup Final just about every year she was at Hogwarts, and it was largely thanks to Rath smacking Bludgers at Charlie so hard that he was sent to the Hospital Wing that Ravenclaw had won.]

“Rath is not someone to be underestimated. But we have two days before the match -- I’m sure we can come up with a plan by then. In the meantime, I’ll set aside some extra time to practice with the rest of the team.”

[She glanced at Orion for approval. The Slytherin Quidditch Captain inclined his head in a single nod.]

Orion: “This is a time for celebration and hard work. Let us concentrate on coming together as a team and on supporting Skye.”

[Carewyn’s eyes drifted off, landing on the doorway out of the entrance hall.]

“...Maybe I should go see Skye, then...just for a talk.”

Ha! That’s a loaded question...

[She frankly didn’t want to even think about how uncomfortable the reunion between her and Skye would be like, given how they’d ended things and how little they’d subsequently spoken over the years...

Despite those feelings, Carewyn -- true to form -- put on her prettiest, most confident smile.]

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #gameplay #quest for the quidditch cup #skye parkin #orion amari #murphy mcnully #carewyn cromwell #charlie weasley #erika rath #roleplaying

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akaashisupremacy · 4 years ago

Text

Summer Again

Summary: What's Tsukishima like in a long term relationship? How does he react when he runs into a significant other's parents?

Notes: I have a wealth of Tsukki content on my Masterlist. Check it out if you enjoy this!

This is supposed to be the last segment of my Chasing Springtime Series so I want to thank @itstheee-ha-chan for always reading through my work and @kaizumi for pushing me to write a fic with ocs. You guys are the best!!

Tsukishima x reader

genre: fluff, angst (wc:5.5k )

Read the chapter before || Read this on A03!

Sub-urbs of Miyagi || 3rd Year Junior High || 6:00 PM

Tsukki waited for Kaori just outside their gate. It took their third year in Junior High for them to walk to the summer festival together. It surprised him that it took them this long. The sky was getting dark enough that the moon shone on their district. He stood just below the street lamp with his hands in his pockets.

Lately he had been stifling this feeling of electrifying nerves whenever he saw her. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but it built up during moments anticipation…like now.

Kaori’s feet shuffled on the pavement as she tried closing the gate behind her. In line with the night’s festivities, she wore a dark blue yukata, one of two of her summer kimonos and his favorite one. Her outfit did not allow much movement and he could hear her grunt as she struggled to close her gate.

“Why can’t you just wear normal people clothes?” he asked, quirking a brow. Kaori finally managed to lock their gate and they began their walk uphill to the nearby temple.

“Because,” she said hiking up her skirt so that she could take wider strides, “It looks better in photos and the yukata needed a reason to be washed.”

“Can’t you just wash it and not wear it?” seemed like a practical enough solution.

“That would be a waste of my finery,” she sighed, waving her hand at him like he wouldn’t understand her reasons.

Aside from her obviously labored movement, he didn’t have any complaints about seeing her in a yukata. He liked how she looked so much that he was tempted to smile each time he glanced at her. It was taking all his self-control not to.

A comfortable silence would have sunk between them, but Tsukki felt his cheeks and ears burn at the thought that they were walking to the festival alone. It seemed like they were on a date. People would talk if they were seen together like this. He needed to break the silence to keep his mind distracted.

Kaori was checking her phone, “Kanako says she’s there, but that’s because she lives nearby. Is Yamaguchi there too?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “We just agreed to meet at the bottom of the stairs.”

They ran into Yamaguchi at the bottom of the temple steps just as they arrived. Unlike Tsukki who was in “normal people clothes”, Yamaguchi was also in a yukata.

“Yamaguchi! I’ve never seen you in yukata before. Cool!” she greeted him.

Yamaguchi beamed at her compliment and turned around to show her the fan he had tucked in at the back of his obi or belt.

“I got it as a hand-me-down from one of my cousins. Still looks pretty new though.” he said, beginning to climb the stairs. Tsukki and Kaori followed behind him.

“See Tsukki, if you had worn your yukata too. We could’ve all matched." he added.

“Why would I want to match with the two of you?” he made a face.

“Would’ve made for a nice photo.” shot Kaori.

“Yeah, plus it’ll help you feel more festive.” Yamaguchi nodded. He heard his best friend scoff.

They reached the top of the steep steps where they paused to catch their breath.

“Kao-chan, are your friends here yet?” Yamaguchi asked.

Before Kaori could answer, a boy in a red shirt and khaki pants approached their group. It was one of the boys from the next class.

“Kao-chan!” he called out.

Kaori thought he looked constipated. Tsukki stiffened at the sight of a white envelope in his hand. Yamaguchi was intrigued more than anything by how the situation would shake down. He looked back and forth between the two, Tsukki and their other schoolmate.

“Please accept my letter,” he pleaded with his eyes shut tight while he bowed to her. He held his letter with both hands in hopes she would say yes.

Tsukki glowered at him. Yamaguchi was amused at Tsukki’s reaction. He rarely ever looked so irritated.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” gasped Kaori, quickly apologizing before she escaped into the crowd she yelled out, “See you guys later.” She waved at Tsukki and Yamaguchi.

The boy exhaled in disappointment, half-ready to wail. Tsukki and Yamaguchi turn their backs and head into the food stalls. As soon as he was out of sight, Yamaguchi elbowed Tsukki in his side.

“What?” said Tsukki.

“Have you ever thought about asking her out? Do you ever worry that she’ll say yes to one of the boys that gives her confessions?” asked Yamaguchi, blowing on a hot piece of takoyaki.

Tsukki groaned, “I don’t wanna talk about this right now.”

“Maybe she’ll say yes if you tell her you like her.” he suggested.

Tsukki was the type of person who shoved away any semblance of emotion, but his infatuation with Kaori was slowly gnawing him from the inside and Yamaguchi knew it.

“Or maybe she’ll say no and we won’t be able to walk to school without feeling awkward.” interjected Tsukki, “Besides, I don’t mind how we are right now. I don’t want it to change. I’d rather wait until this crush on her dies than for things to get awkward.”

Tsukki was fiercely protective of his time with Kaori. That much was apparent.

“Whatever you say Tsukki,” grinned Yamaguchi, “You should’ve seen your face.”

After the fireworks signaled the end of the night’s festivities, Kaori met up with Tsukki at the bottom of the steps.

“I told Kanako about the boy a while ago…” she mumbled, “she said he was kind of lame and I agree.”

Tsukki felt a rush of relief.

“You don’t have to be dating. You’re competing at a really high level and at school. You don’t need the distraction.” he said.

“You sound like my mom.” she snorted, crossing her arms.

Tsukki blushed.

“I don’t want to have a boyfriend. It never seems to end well.” she shook her head, “I hear stories from the gym. Teenage boys are possessive. There are older girls with boyfriends and they either get broken up with because they spend all their time training or they leave the sport.”

“Even the ones that date athletes? I think athletes will be able to understand their schedule better.” he inquired. They’ve never had this conversation before. He grew curious to hear her thoughts. Would she like to date someone with his schedule?

“Dating athletes doesn’t make it last. They’re busy with their own training too.” she shrugged.

Maybe not.

Tsukki had his own training schedule after he joined his school’s volleyball club and he still managed to attend Kaori’s meets. What were the schedules of these boyfriends like? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Kaori unwrapping candy.

“At this hour?” he asked looking back and forth between her candy and her eyes, “really?”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Yeah, because Kanako isn’t around anymore. She might tell Coach I’m eating sweets.”

He sighed. Kaori liked to snack, but it was discouraged at her gym. She was careful what she ate around her teammates.

“Ne- what about you Tsukki? Do you have a crush in class? Doesn’t seem like it. You seem dead inside.” she nudged him, deep in thought while sucking on her lollipop.

“Are you asking me a question or are you talking to yourself?” he shot back. He tried to look relaxed but he was tensing up. This was a question he had been trying to skirt around.

“Both?” she shrugged her shoulders, or at least tried to in her yukata, “I know someone from school that likes you.” she grinned mischievously, wagging her finger at him.

Tsukki swallowed a lump in his throat before he answered, “Sounds like a waste of time.”

“I don’t need a girlfriend.” he mulled over quietly. He was happy as it was walking home with her, “I’m not handsome or charming or anything. I probably can’t get a girlfriend even if I wanted to.”

“Besides, I have you.” he thought.

“Between the three of us, it seems like Yamaguchi ’s the one that’s going to go first huh?” she said then yelped after stumbling over a bit on the road. She hiked her yukata up for the rest of the walk home. He stopped walking to see if she was alright.

“He’s a nervous wreck around girls though.” he smiled, shaking his head. Yamaguchi was a willing enough victim except that he got nervous at any sort of confrontation with girls.

Kaori turned to him and grinned. They burst into a chuckle.

“He is. I’m not sure he can get through the confession stage.” she giggled.

They fell into another bout of silence until Tsukki spoke up.

“Hey Kaori?” he mumbled.

“Yeah?” she said, half gargling her words with the candy in her mouth.

“What if you do get a boyfriend and he asks you to stop hanging out with me,” he asked, sounding slightly apprehensive, ”and Yamaguchi too.” He didn’t want to be too obvious just by asking about himself.

Kaori scoffed.

“That’s unlikely, but if it does happen,” she paused looking at him firmly, “he has to accept that you’re part of my life too and he can’t make me push you away.’

The smallest of smiles crept up on his lips. He looked up at the moon. Kaori didn’t seem to be in love with someone else. That was good enough for now.

————————————————

Miyagi || 2019 (Second Year, College) || 6:00 PM

Tsukki could not stop looking at the athletic tape on Kaori’s wrist and thigh. He worried excessively when she had any sort of tape on. It immediately brought him back her major back injury during their freshman year in High School.

In the middle of the spring semester, he found her under a street lamp two corners away from their home one evening on his way back home from the district community center. She was sitting on the concrete, leaning against the lamp with her back hunched over.

“Kaori! Kaori! Are you alright?” he asked in disbelief.

She looked up; her eyes were hazy.

“My back hurts. I think I’m injured. I’m alright…just resting a bit. It hurts to carry my stuff home. That’s all.” she smiled weakly, looking up to him before moving her head back down to her knees.

Kaori was clearly not alright. She was pale and she could barely move. Her eyes were unfocused. They were near home. He picked up her bag for her and helped her up.

“Can you walk home if I help you carry your stuff?” he asked. If he wasn’t so exhausted, he would carry her home on his back.

She nodded and winced. Slinging her arm on his back so he could hold her up, he steadied so they could begin their walk home in a snail’s pace. He wondered how she could have even gotten this far from her gym.

When they reached her home, her parents were still out. He gingerly put their bags down, scooped her up and carried her to the coach. She was so light. After some searching in her kitchen, he found some a box of pain patches and some a bag of ice for her back.

“Kaori, do you need anything for your back?” he asked, holding up her two options.

She slowly flipped herself over and asked for the ice. He gently placed the bag on her back and returned the patch to her cupboard. He heard the door open and he rushed out to find her mother, who read the panicked expression on his face.

“What happened to Kaori?” she asked.

“I’m not sure…” he hesitantly spoke, “She looks very injured. I helped her get home, she could barely walk.”

Her mother thanked him and quickly dashed to the living.

Tsukki kicked a bit of the water on the stream as he relived the memory.

“You fret too much. My wrist is just tired, Tsukki. Don’t worry about me.” she said, tenderly running her thumb over his cheek.

“You have a tendency to overwork yourself. Are you sure that’s nothing?” he said, pointing towards her thigh.

Kaori had worn short khakis and a plain white shirt to their little summer outing which revealed her newly taped thigh in addition to her wrist.

She laughed sheepishly, “Ahh, I…uh…overstretched myself last week.” After goofing around with her team mates, she had felt a twitch of pain on her thigh. She pulled a muscle probably because she had pulled a stunt when her body had been cold. It should be gone in a few days.

Tsukki rubbed his temples. Kaori sighed. She really was more careful with herself too. It would save so much more trouble for her coaches and Tsukki. Although she was the type to get injured fairly often, even her major back injury had scared her coaching team and Tsukki.

She didn’t remember much from that night on that Tsukki found her on a street near their home. The next thing she knew, she had woken up in her living room with a towel on her forehead. A spasm ran through her back, she was in so much pain. It was an injury unlike anything she had experienced. It hurt to move. It hurt to lie down. Her sight was hazy. She fell back into a deep slumber.

The water in the stream they were in was shallow but steady. Their feet were dipped in the water to relieve themselves after a long hike in Tsukki’s hometown. Although she had frequently visited The Spot when they were younger, Kaori had found hideaways over her time in Miyagi. The shallow stream a little off the temple road was one of them.

She had been wanting to escape the city into the mountains since the summer began. On a common day off, they visited the stream. She flicked some of the water his way.

“If you keep furrowing your brows that way, they’ll stick like that.” she said.

Tsukki looked at the water stains on his shirt, unmoved by Kaori’s shenanigans. He leaned back on his arms and ignored her before deftly flicking some of the water her way. Some of the water landed in her eyes.

“Hey! Not fair,” she scolded him while rubbing her eyes. She cursed at his quick reflexes. He grinned at her mischievously. Sometimes she felt like they both had completely grown up, but on days like this it was like they were still 12.

“Very mature, Tsukishima.” she said, pretending to scowl with her hands in her waist.

“You started it!” he scowled with his brow raised.

She did admittedly start it. Kaori leaned her body next to his and wrapped her arms around him.

“Ok, you win.” she could feel his head nestle on the crown of hers while she thought about how she could get back at him. Tsukki put one arm around her. He was probably wary that she was cooking up revenge.

It was a hot, bright summer’s day. The buzz of the cicadas and the hum of the stream filled the air. The day was warm and the earth beneath them was arid. Kaori adored the stream because it was kept cool by the shade of large old trees obscuring them from the sun’s heat.

“A friend asked me the other day if I am ever scared that our relationships would end like my parents. Why would you put effort into something that could fail?” she murmured, kicking her toes on the surface of the stream, interrupting the water trickling on the stones.

“My my, so supportive that friend.” he rolled his eyes while running his hand through her hair.

“What would you say to that?” she asked absentmindedly.

Tsukki paused for a minute before his hands returned to her hair, “You can say that on just about anything. I think you’re worrying too much. You just can’t go into a relationship thinking this wouldn’t work or that it isn’t worth it. Sometimes you just have to do it and see where it goes you know. ” He shrugged.

“If this thing really doesn't work out, we’ll go back to being friends. There’s more to us than this dating thing.” he looked at her sincerely.

“I don’t like it when people ask me that kind of question, especially when they know about you. I enjoy being happy right now. I feel like they’re doubting my happiness when they ask that.” she sighed, looking away.

At the height of her parents’ fights, Kaori would wake up to her mother sleeping on the kitchen floor after another evening of bickering. Every time someone asked a question about the longevity of her relationship with Tsukki, she wondered if their relationship would sour to that point.

“Sometimes those kind of questions just scare me. When people find out that I’m in a happy relationship, it makes me feel like they either think I’m naive or I’m supposed to have the key to happiness or something.” she mumbled.

“You care too much about what other people be might be thinking,” he said, waving his hand lazily.

The outcome of her parents’ marriage scared her, but she was damned if she didn’t take her own stab at happiness. Resolute to be happy on the days she could find joy, Kaori was going to enjoy their time together regardless of what the future held. She wasn’t going to let her parents’ poor decisions scare her.

“What did you tell your friend?” he asked.

“It’s not going to fail, because the arc of history is long. If we can wait four years just to be able to see each other again, we can wait however long to fix the relationship if it breaks, romantic or otherwise.”

“I was thinking, if I had two plates - one for the good pile and another pile- when stuff adds to the bad pile it doesn’t take away from the good pile. The good pile stays put. Our good days are untouchable.” Kaori spoke with so much conviction even she surprised herself. She had faith in their relationship’s ability to weather through.

“Yeah,” he smiled, “I guess it does.”

———————————————————————————

“Tadaima,”

Mari Tsukishima glanced at the door as her youngest son, Kei and their former neighbor Kaori Miyahara entered their home. Kaori’s figure peaked behind Kei’s tall stature as they took of their shoes at the porch. She hadn’t seen the girl up close in almost half a decade since the Miyahara family moved out. She was more than curious to see what she looked like now.

Keenly aware of Kaori’s family problems and her status as a star athlete of sorts, Mari had always worried about her. She felt that there was a lot of pressure on a young girl’s back. Still she admired how the young girl handled herself. It implied a toughness beneath her sunny exterior.

Upon entering the kitchen to refill their water bottles, Kaori greeted Mari with a smile and bow, lacking the shyness in many adolescent girls. When they first moved in, Mari immediately offered Kei to walk her to school in hopes of helping him make friends. She would never have imagined that they would just walk to school every day after that. She sighed. Kei had been a whole foot shorter then. It seemed so long ago.

“Do you know what the family next door is like?” Kaori asked Kei.

He shook his head, “Not really, I just know they have young children.”

“I wonder what my room looks like now,” she murmured to herself.

During Kei’s freshman year in High School, he had been extremely upset about her leaving. He refused to talk about it. Mari assumed that they must have made their amends because most of the sullen angst that had marked his face had dissipated, for which she was glad.

“The neighbors have a daughter. I imagine your room still looks similar to how you left it.” said Mari, observing the two of them with her hands on one of the dining room chairs. They turned to her.

“Well, hopefully they don’t climb walls and yell at their neighbors.” sniffed Kei looking at Kaori.

Kaori shot him a dirty look. Kei snickered.

Although Akiteru hinted that they were dating, Kei had been quiet. She suspected as much. He always had a soft spot for Kaori. He would get defensive if she asked about her so she figured to not say anything until he was ready. Mari smiled to herself.

Kei had been coming home more often because Kaori liked exploring her old haunts outside of the city. She was a welcomed influence especially when it meant seeing her son more than twice a year.

“You’ve moved out. They don’t have a reason to yell.” she sniffed.

Kei choked on his water.

Maybe four years wasn’t so long ago, thought Mari.

After a day spent exploring and running errands, the two made their way back to Kaori’s apartment. The sky was quickly turning light purple and the city monotonously hummed into dusk. Kaori was going through texts with one hand while holding Tsukki’s hand with the other. He listened to music on his headphones while they strolled.

Tsukki paused at the sight of her apartment and squeezed her hand. Kaori looked up from her phone. Right in front of the apartment entrance stood Kaori’s mother, equally surprised at the sight of the two of them. Kaori dropped his hand.

“I was in the area and I wanted to surprise you with some food.” said her mother. She turned to Tsukki and quirked her brow.

“Hi Kei-kun,” she greeted him cordially.

Tsukki bowed respectfully and managed to mumble out a greeting. They were definitely going to have to forgo their kiss before they went their separate ways. Kaori bade him goodbye on the spot and told him that she will text him later.

Frozen in disbelief, Kaori stood opposite to her mother with her hands behind her back. Okasan motioned her to get up the stairs.

“I thought you were going to stick to my no boyfriends till after college advice.” said Okasan, walking behind Kaori along the stairs of her apartment, “Is Kei still playing volleyball?”

“Yes.” Kaori answered tersely.

“In the college varsity level?”

“Professionally, he plays in a Division 2 League.” Kaori opened the door to her home and allowed her mother in.

“How long has this been going on?” Okasan placed the groceries on her kitchen counter and began sorting them into her cupboards and refrigerator.

“A year maybe?” she said pausing to think while staring at her mother. Kaori had planned to tell her mother at some point, but this was too early.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” her mother turned to her with her arms crossed. Kaori couldn’t read if her mother was upset or not. After sorting out the food, she stood across Kaori and looked her daughter in the eye. She was a little dazed herself, but she didn’t take too well that her daughter was keeping secrets from her.

“Because it’s private? I don’t need your approval, but I also don’t want your disapproval. Besides, Tsukki’s really private. We’re not getting married yet or anything.” she asserted defensively.

“Is this why you came back to Miyagi?”

“No, I didn’t even know where he was going for college. We lost touch when I left.“ Kaori’s voice had an edge of hostility. The thought that she made decisions solely to be with a boyfriend infuriated her. It was like her mother could not trust her to make decisions for herself.

Okasan nodded, bade her daughter with their usual goodbye greetings and left.

“Just make sure you finish college.” Okasan added, before closing the door. Kaori breathed a sigh of relief. Relationships were always a tough subject for the mother-daughter pair.

Tsukki was obediently waiting in the convenient shop down the corner. Before Kaori’s mother arrived, they had planned to cook dinner together. At the sight of Miyahara-san, Kaori had bade him goodbye and texted him instructions to wait for her mother to leave at the convenience store. In her rush to send him away, she had forgotten to take her groceries with her. He sat with a can of coffee, sighing at the awkwardness of the situation. Parents and romance rarely mix but this was especially awkward.

As soon Kaori texted him the coast was clear, he stepped out of the store. Turning his heels to the corner, he jumped back as he ran into Miyahara-san. He cursed at his luck. He should have waited about ten minutes more.

“I forgot to give Kaori her groceries,” he said coolly, hoping she wouldn’t sense his nervousness. He held up the bag for her to see.

She apologized for running into him. As he was stepping forward, Kaori’s mother stopped him at his tracks with a question.

“Kei, if you don’t mind me asking, what are your intentions with my daughter?” she asked a little curtly.

Although Kei rarely saw Kaori’s parents, Miyahara-san’s tone was still sharper than he remembered. He remembered her as a polite woman who tried to be warm. They didn’t interact much. Her parents were always away for work.

“I want to be there for her for her last two years in college and competitive gymnastics.” he answered concisely. His heart was beating a mile a second. He was annoyed by how unnerved he was. This was not how he wanted to meet her parents.

“What are going to do if she moves away? Kaori might move to Yokohama after college.” she said, eyeing him carefully.

“I told her I’d move with her.” He tried to keep expression honest while simultaneously trying not to give any other emotion away.

“Don’t you think you’re a bit young to be in such a serious relationship? Playing house and promising to move away with her and all that…” she nodded, looking him in the eye.

Playing house? Was she mocking them? Sure, they cooked dinner together sometimes; did she need to phrase it that way?

“I didn’t want to wait until she moved away again. Besides, it kind of just happened.” he shrugged.

“I hope you’re being sincere.”

“I am! I don’t have any reason not to be.” he said, making sure to look straight at her as they spoke.

Miyahara-san eyed the tall young man and his expressionless face. Kei had always been difficult to read. The sudden meeting had caught her unprepared. She decided to keep her questions for the next time they met. He seemed genuine enough.

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

Tsukki arrived at Kaori’s door and she opened it before he had the chance to knock.

“Ran into your mother on the way here,” he smirked.

“Sorry I panicked, Ijust wanted to debrief.” she said, taking the groceries from him and laying out the food on her tiny counter. He set aside his shoes and washed his hands before taking out the chopping board.

“What did she ask?” Kaori gave him her full attention. Her gaze seething with curiosity.

“She asked if I thought I was too young to be in a serious relationship that kinda stu-”

“What?” she exclaimed abruptly .

“She also said something about us playing house…”

Kaori’s head spun. She didn’t expect her mother to be overly gracious, but even this was harsher than she expected her to be. Tsukki had been a behaved enough child and his reputation in the neighborhood was relatively untarnished. He deserved better treatment for their first meeting at least.

As Kaori stood analyzing the situation, Tsukki took out the chopping board and a knife.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said, breaking her out of her reverie, “Did something happen in Tokyo? Your mother didn’t seem like the type of person to be so…suspicious of me.”

Her cheeks flushed pink and the end of her lip tugged to one side. Tsukki raised a brow as she avoided his gaze.

“Okaasan found out about my high school boyfriend because she may have seen me with his arm around me in a park after a jog when I said I was running alone…” she trailed. It was so rare to see Kaori uneasy, usually he was the one throwing him off guard. This reversal was entertaining.

“…I think she would have preferred for me to have broken up with him, but my grades were good and I had just topped my regionals so I was definitely going to nationals…” she continued.

“Go on…” he smirked.

“He was a little older than me, you know because he was already captain of the volleyball team when I transferred and I think she was wary of him because of that too… She kind of threatened to take me off gymnastics if my grades ever fell because she assumed it was going to be because of him… and we may have had a few fights after she said that.”

“Volleyball? You have a type.” he grinned, “An older boy? Wow I am learning a lot of things today.”

She brushed his comment aside, regaining her composure. “I like to think I attract a certain type. I still think she should’ve given you a chance before treating you that way though. You’re a good person.”

Tsukki assumed that Kaori had been with someone else while she was in Tokyo, but they never really talked about it. He didn’t need to know. Nevertheless it was still interesting to hear about her talk about her “lost years” in Tokyo as he dubbed them.

“Mmmm…so she’s still pissed at you about it?” he remarked.

“Obviously,” she snorted.

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

On another day spent wandering around their old haunts, Kaori finds herself alone with Mari Tsukishima. Kei is in his old room, looking for some photos.

“Tsukishima-san, you’re a mother…” trailed Kaori, distracted and embarrassed. She was tapping on her water bottle, a little uncertain about why she was asking Kei’s mother of all people.

“Well, yes I am…” said Mari, curious to see where this conversation led.

“Do you find yourself questioning your kids’ decisions from time to time?” she asked quietly.

Mari was a little surprised by Kaori’s question.

Mari sighed, “From my experience, I find it best to let the kids just make their own decisions…just because I give advice doesn’t mean they’ll take it or that it will be applicable to them.”

She pulled out a tray of mochi from the counter and sat with Kaori on the dining table.

“I don’t mean to pry, but is there something going on that you want to talk about?” she asked kindly.

“My mom, she’s questioning a lot of my decisions because she’s afraid that I would make the same mistakes as she did.” Kaori hesitantly spoke up. Mari didn’t know what Kaori’s relationship with her parents was like after the divorce. It seemed that it had some patches.

“You’re different people. You can’t make the same mistakes.” Mari assured her.

“Do you think I’m too young to be in a relationship?” Kaori asked, her eyes looked at Mari, but her attention was elsewhere. Her fingers fumbled while they talked.

“You’re young, but you’re not too young. I met Kei’s father in college…sometimes you don’t choose the timing. You just make the most out of it.” said Mari.

“You can’t make everyone happy even when you try with all you can. Make the smart choices that you can and ones that you can stick with.” she added.

————————————————

Kaori watched Tsukki close the gate behind them before they started their walk towards the train station. He laced his fingers with hers as they strolled, absent-mindedly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Tsukki, aren’t you afraid that one of the neighbors will see us?” she asked, pulling her hand back and glancing at the houses they passed.

“And who will they tell? My mom? I think she knows.” he huffed, taking her hand again. His relationship with Kaori was like a white elephant in their household. His father probably knew about it too. It’s just that nobody talked about it.

They had spent many train rides posited across each other when they stood near the door. When the door closed, Tsukki walked over to her and put his reassuring arms around her shoulder. She dipped her head into his chest. He placed his chin on her head. They remained like this on their way back to Sendai.

The train shuffled by and the sun from the window warmed her skin. Basking in the bliss that stemmed from standing close to each other, they revelled in the contentment that had eluded them for years. The city station was fast approaching.

“You know we’ve been going back to the sub-urbs and the countryside a lot.” he murmured, eyeing the light that flickered indicating which station they were arriving next.

“It’s nice there during the summer. Not too hot.” she yawned.

“Do you really want to leave all this in maybe 2-3 years?” he asked, quietly looking out of the window.

“If my mom settles in the Kanto region or if she picks a fight with you, we can stay.” she nodded, “It’s not so bad here.”

Once she finished college, she would have lived in Miyagi for 7 years which was the longest she’s lived anywhere. She smiled. She might as well call it home.

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

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years ago

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Rating: T

Chapter Summary: Chat Noir brings up some renovations the base could use. Also, he and Ladybug flirt decide to study together.

Word Count: 2065 | Chapter 2/?

XXX

It was almost funny—in a twisted sort of way—how she could go from fighting for her life to panicking about her grades.

Today’s akuma had struck while she was supposed to be studying for her first physics exam. Even with Rena Rouge and Carapace providing backup, the fight through Lord Labyrinth’s twisting maze had taken three hours.

And, to top it off, she was stranded on the opposite side of the city.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki said, curled up into a ball in her palms. “You’re sure you don’t have even a crumb left?”

She patted her empty pockets. “Nothing.”

Tikki had already eaten her five backup macarons, two emergency protein bars, and even a crepe she’d snagged with the last of her change. She couldn’t afford much more on a university budget. Tikki didn’t always need to recharge after using Lucky Charm anymore, but she also couldn’t go on forever.

“The hideout is closer than your school, right? We could stop there, then I can transform you and get you home.”

“Good idea, Tikki.” Marinette pressed a quick kiss to her head before slipping her into her backpack, which had reappeared once she’d detransformed. The heavy weight of her laptop and notebook pulling on her shoulders only added to her exhaustion.

“There’s a good entrance the next street over…”

Soon enough she was dropping down into the damp sewer. In comic books, didn’t the heroes have cool hideouts? But she couldn’t complain. Chat may have been the one to suggest the location, but she’d agreed that it was the safest bet. At least it would be a place she could rest for a minute.

The secret base was disguised from the outside, thanks to Rena Rouge’s new long-lasting illusion. Marinette could only spot the door by looking for a specific pattern in the wall—four slightly shimmery bricks at about eye level. She still patted the wall in three different places before brushing the secret handle.

“Finally,” she breathed, fumbling for the padlock. Once she pulled it just out of the illusion’s range, she could enter the password. Four letters, one on each dial.

HOME. She’d thought it was too obvious, but Chat Noir had teared up once he’d seen the lock’s default password, and she couldn’t bring herself to change it.

With the lock still in hand, she stepped into the room—

—Only to hear someone yelp and fall off the couch.

“Who is it? Who’s there?” Chat Noir’s voice rang out.

Marinette nearly jumped back and slammed the door. But thankfully, Chat’s hand was covering his eyes.

His ungloved hand. Thankfully, he’d at least had the sense to cover his miraculous with some kind of… hair scrunchie? Oh well, whatever worked.

“Don’t look!” She said redundantly. If he’d gotten a glimpse of her, it was already too late.

“I won’t, I pawmise.”

She took her fake mask from its hook and slipped it over her face. Then she shoved her backpack and shoes into the cabinet labeled LADYBUG, exchanging them for a long green hoodie that was too big to wear in public. Thankfully it was cool down in the sewers, even during the late summer.

The wooden cabinet door hadn’t been the product of a Lucky Charm, and it hung at a lopsided angle when she shut it.

“Alright.” She sighed. “You can look now.”

Chat Noir dropped his arm and stood, his eyes widening beneath the fabric mask as he took her in.

Strangely, she wanted to squirm under his gaze. It wasn’t like she looked that different outside of her suit, and the fake mask would still hide her identity. But Chat’s eyes… the black fabric didn’t change his scleras, and she found herself transfixed by the new shade of spring green. She hadn’t seen him like this since they’d swapped miraculouses while fighting against Reflekta and Reflekdoll.

“What? Hotter than you expected?” He grinned, flexing his arm under his Ladybug-themed hoodie. At least he’d been smart enough to bring an outfit change too.

“Trying to win me over by buying my merch now?” She raised an eyebrow. Pretty eyes or not, he was still Chat Noir. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting flustered.

“No, I’m trying to win you over by being pawsomely charming. This,” he tugged at the hem of his hoodie, “is just because I have taste.”

“I guess I can’t fault you there.” She stepped over to him and straightened the drawstrings hanging from his hood. It was still weird, seeing him in normal clothes, being forced to confront the fact that Chat Noir was a regular university student, just like her. She knew that, of course, but with his over-the-top puns and flirting, it sometimes felt like he belonged in a comic book.

“We need a doorbell. You could’ve seen me before I had the chance to put on my mask.” She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that sooner. She’d assumed heroes would stop here individually, or arrive transformed. It wasn’t like her to miss such an obvious problem; the stress of classes must be getting to her.

“You could’ve just knocked, you know.” He smirked.

“...I didn’t expect anyone to be here,” she admitted, face heating. “The lock was still on. How did you even get in?”

“I had Plagg put it back on just in case I ended up taking a catnap. But don’t worry about it, bugaboo. We’ll both be more prepared next time.”

His smile hit differently outside of his transformation. Stupidly, she found herself just staring into his eyes again.

“Great, now we’re going to have to watch the lovebirds in person.” Plagg gagged from his spot on the counter. It didn’t stop him from swallowing a wedge of cheese immediately after, though.

“And I’m going to have to smell you in person,” Tikki said, waving her arm in front of her face.

“We’re in a sewer! How much stinkier can it get?”

Marinette laughed. It wasn’t often she got to see Plagg, much less him and Tikki together.

“When it comes to month-old camembert, it can always get stinkier,” Chat said. “Trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Marinette didn’t have a very good sense of smell, anyway. That was convenient when your secret base was located in the sewers.

“I think we’ll be fine coming here without our suits as long as everyone knocks first,” Chat said, plopping back down on the couch. “We’ve already got changes of clothes that won’t identify us. Rena and Carapace dropped theirs off when they were adding their improvements yesterday.”

“Improvements?” Marinette raised an eyebrow, not that he could see under her mask.

“I told them it would be okay; I didn’t think you’d mind. Carapace just thought it would be smart to put a Shellter around the Miracle Box. The kwamis can phase through it with their miraculouses, but no one can reach inside to steal them.”

She stepped up to the entertainment center and opened the cabinet with the miracle box. Sure enough, there was a glowing green barrier around the red egg.

“That’s a good idea, but… what if the kwamis don’t know they’re needed? They can’t hear us when they’re inside their magical world.”

Chat’s face fell. It was weird, not seeing his ears and tail droop, but the rest of his body language was still so expressive.

“I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s okay.” She stepped over and put a hand on his shoulder. “It really was a good idea. You didn’t know.”

Master Fu had given her more training on being the Guardian than he had Chat Noir. All the Master said on the matter was that Chat’s schedule wouldn’t allow it.

He nodded. “I’ll have him take it down next time I see him.”

Maybe they could still use Shellter in other ways; she’d have to think about that. If only all four of them could control the shield. That would make an excellent way to protect the base.

“You said Rena made some changes too?”

“Oh, right!” He sprung up again, then vaulted over the back of the couch to reach the kitchen. Apparently he was athletic even without the suit. “She brought some cooking supplies. Also, she was asking if we had any plans to add a bathroom.”

“A bathroom? This isn’t a hotel.” Marinette rubbed her temples. She wasn’t a plumber. She couldn’t just Lucky Charm up a functioning toilet.

Plagg let out a loud burp. “She’s right. Who needs a fancy kitchen or a bathroom when you’ve got a fridge full of cheese?”

Chat glared at him. “Some of us aren’t magical kwamis who never need to pee.”

“That’s what the sewer’s for, isn’t it?”

“Not that kind of sewer!” He smacked his forehead.

Marinette was doing her best not to burst out laughing. Chat Noir might wear the clown suit, but Plagg was the clown suit.

“I’ll see if I can come up with anything,” she assured him. Having a bathroom down here would be nice, though she didn’t know how to pull that off yet. There was a locker room for sanitation employees that they could probably use, but it would be risky, whether they went suited up or not.

This was supposed to be just a simple meeting place. She should’ve known that doing anything with Chat Noir couldn’t be simple.

Maybe we should’ve gone with his first idea of renting an apartment, she thought as she poured herself a glass of milk. It looked like Alya had brought disposable cups along with the griddle, spatulas, and utensils strewn on the counter. She really should try Lucky Charming up some drawers. Or at least break out the dragon miraculous and cut a few more cabinets into the rock.

“So what brings you here, anyway?” Chat asked while lounging against the counter. “Hoping you’d run into a handsome black cat?”

He slicked his hair back in a way he probably thought was suave. Instead he just ended up skewing his mask, and he blinked in surprise. Or maybe winked. It was hard to tell with the fabric covering up one of his eyes.

“Tikki needed a break before heading home. You saw how many Lucky Charms I used today.” She held out her cup, letting Tikki dunk her cookie in it before she took another sip.

“You were amazing. Building a trebuchet out of the pieces it gave you? Genius.”

She punched him lightly. “Flatterer.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, my lady.” He winked.

Stop that, she told her heart when it picked up its pace. It didn’t listen, especially when he leaned in towards her.

It’s those stupid eyes. Those stupid, gorgeous eyes.

“I still can’t believe you launched my staff at just the right angle to hit the akumatized object over the wall. You wouldn’t happen to be a physics major, would you?”

“A what?” She blinked before his words actually sunk in. Then she nearly dropped her cup of milk on the counter. “Oh no! The physics exam!”

“...So that’s a yes?”

“No.” Her face flopped on the stone counter. Ow. “I’m terrible at physics. I just have to take the intro class, and I was supposed to study for the test today, but then Lord Labyrinth took forever and,” she took a deep breath, “I just really don’t want to.”

She’d never procrastinated in her life. Well, not on purpose, anyway. She just had too much to do to afford it.

“Even superheroes need breaks, you know.” He rubbed her shoulder, his touch gentle without his claws. “But if you do want to study… could I help you? I’ve took a few physics classes last year. They were a-mass-ing.”

“Really?” They didn’t talk much about their school lives—mostly for identity reasons, but also because they usually didn’t have the time. She never would’ve picked him out as a science guy. Theatre, maybe.

“Yeah. You could say I had a lot of potential.”

She groaned. “Oh no. I can’t take cat puns and science puns. If you keep this up, I’ll just take my chances with failing.”

“What? Do you think there’s too much friction between us?”

“Chat.” She glared on principle, even though she had to admit that one was almost funny.

“Alright, alright, I’m done.” He grinned. “Grab your notes and we can get started.”

#tali writes #ladynoir #home base #fic tag #if youre not following me on ao3 #just know that i posted this chapter weeks ago #there are like 5 chapters of this fic out already #i am slow at crossposting to tumblr

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fuck-customers · 5 years ago

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This is a Fuck My Store Manager post. It's kinda long, so I apologize for the length but Black Friday weekend is coming up and I need to vent before I have even more to complain about.

I work at the pet store chain that rhymes with BetShmo, and I only applied/got hired because I (1) am a professional dog trainer outside of the store and (2) I used to know the stock manager from junior high & high school swim team. She put a good word in with her manager and I didn't even interview for the position. The downside is that after I got hired I figured out pretty quickly that I didn't want to teach the company's watered down, bullshit "training" classes and told my manager this. She said it was okay and "let me" stay on as a cashier. I'm on the autistic spectrum so I suffer from anxiety, a sensory processing disorder, and some days I'm not super great at interacting with people, plus I have a hard time hearing the customers when the store gets busy. My store manager, the assistant manager, and -- pretty much everyone I work with -- knows this. I'm not private about it, and no one really cares/treats me differently because of it. Except for her.

After the whole situation where I mentioned to her that I don't wanna be a dog trainer, she has been treating me differently.

The very first thing I hate about being "only a cashier" is that there's a definite line of shelves that denote the front of the store from the middle of the store. Cashiers are told that in order to not leave any customers waiting that they need to stay behind the front of those shelves (in front of small animals, and stay in the leashes/toys for dogs section). The reason I hate this is because the bathrooms are back behind the small animals section, and no matter how often I may call for "backup" when no one is at the register -- depending on who the manager is at the time -- I may have to "hold it" and not be able to go to the bathroom for an entire shift. It's gotten better since I switched to being only a cashier (because a majority of the managers like me now), but I used to have to wait to use the bathroom on my "10" if I even got one that day. Now that we have better supporting/shift managers that like me I can go multiple times in a shift as long as I'm fast and more people answer my call for "backup."

I've been working there since the beginning of the summer, and I told my store manager I can't work on Sundays because of "religious observance," (really just want to be able to have family dinner every week at my parent's house, but work doesn't need to know that), but instead of just finding another person to cover the closing shift on Sundays, she said to me "We work in retail. It's unrealistic to expect to have ANY weekends off." When the only other cashier at the time got weekends off pretty consistently. Like I'm talking she was only working Friday mornings and having Saturdays/Sundays off which is wildly out of the norm for any other retail jobs I've ever worked. Especially for a cashier.

That same cashier -- we'll call her Chelsea -- has some mental health issues going on and has been moody/rude since she dropped out of college in the Spring. Like I'm not judging, we all have issues and she's getting help for her's finally, but during the time when she was not on medication/seeing a professional, she requested to "make a statement" about me and one little misunderstanding between us (her being asked by a different manager to recover the small animals section at the same time I was asked to and said I was slacking/not doing my job and just following her around the store) blew up into a whole 6 page report of blatant lies that resulted in me getting called to the office and almost written up within the first month of working there before I had the chance to defend myself. For some reason after that, my store manager decided she likes Chelsea more than she likes me and PROMOTED HER TO STOCK MANAGER EVEN THOUGH SOME OF THE THINGS SHE SAID SHOULD'VE RESULTED IN SUSPENSION. Chelsea still gets better hours than me and my store manager still likes her better.

In the last two months my store manager has hired four new cashiers, and out of all four of them only one of them isn't long-time best friends with her daughter -- that I know of. One of these new cashiers spends a ton of time on her phone and I only care about this because I get yelled at all of the time for "being on my phone" (ie when the store is dead I will text my boyfriend back or check Facebook for a few minutes) when she doesn't! But when I even so much as LOOK at my phone to check the time (depending on where you're at in the store, the clocks are all between 10 and 30 minutes fast or slow) I get told if I pull my phone out one more time I will be fired on the spot. That's a real thing that happened one weekend, and she told me that if she has to keep reminding me to keep my phone put away then she's going to take it from me and fire me??? Like we're not in middle school, bitch. You can't just take my phone from me.

The four or five new people she's hired in the last two months are all hired as "cashiers" but because they're best friends with her daughters, they get to pick their hours -- to the point where if one of them has a dentist appointment or something that conflicts with how they were scheduled, the store manager goes in and manually changes their schedule even if it's the WEEK OF. I have had several conflicts with doctor's appointments etc and she's always told me I have to find my own cover for my shift. These cashiers are also all allowed to be on an entire 6-7 hour shift doing recovery or helping with the stock room, but I only get scheduled to be on the register even though I have a disability and can't handle it some days. And because my managers know about it, I can say to them "Hey I'm not feeling it today, can I switch with someone who is doing recovery? And only one manager tries to live up to that promise at all. (Like in the middle of the 1-2 o'clock rush on a Saturday I've broken down into tears and a panic attack and had to take my ten and go back to the register.) Even after this, she doesn't schedule me differently. Oh, and because we have so many cashiers now -- EVEN THOUGH I'M THE SENIOR CASHIER AT THIS POINT -- I get the sloppy seconds of everyone's hours. I'm talking MAYBE 3x 5-hour shifts all over the weekend with ALL WEEK off, while the other cashiers get long morning shifts and can request weekends off willy-nilly. For the last month and a half, I've had Monday-Thursday off even though I've mentioned that I need more hours to just make rent, let alone other expenses. So that's fun and fresh.

This same manager hired a new "Fish Specialist" behind the old "Fish Specialist"'s back and then MADE HER TRAIN HIM. The upside to this is that the new Fish Specialist is pretty cool and likes me well-enough, so I get to go back there and he teaches me stuff about being a Fish Specialist. Although I've never gotten scheduled back there, despite knowing almost as much as the head of the department. Why you might ask? Yep, because my store manager hates me and doesn't let me move from the register.

But there is a happy ending to this story. I heard from our dog training specialist that our store manager was going to be promoted to higher management at the beginning of next year, and I have yet to find an employee that isn't excited about it. And recently I heard she's getting promoted at the end of this year, like before New Year's and I couldn't be more excited. Fuck her.

#cashier problems #happy ending #fuck retail #fuck managers #submission

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anistarrose · 5 years ago

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Fateful Detours - Ch. 1 (Gravity Falls x Infinity Train)

Summary: Ford misses his bus to Backupsmore, and tries to catch a ride on a train instead.

Warnings: none for this chapter

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331070/chapters/48205837

(The Middle) (The End)

I’ve been craving a Gravity Falls/Infinity Train crossover for weeks now, so several late-night bursts of inspiration later, here we are! (Expected to be a 3-chapter fic, probably slightly under 10k words. I’m notoriously bad at word count estimates, but I’m pretty confident about the chapter count.)

(Big Infinity Train spoilers, by the way! In case that wasn't obvious.)

***

Ford’s room looked emptier than he could ever remember it being, and he was eager to leave it as soon as he could.

Carefully, he folded one last dress shirt and laid it down in his suitcase, which took some effort to zip closed. Most of his books, and a few bare-bones pieces of furniture, had already been taken to his Backupsmore dorm room, but his mother had insisted that he wait until the day before freshman orientation to move out of the house in Glass Shard Beach. And Ford had obliged, reluctantly.

He took a quick look under the bunk bed to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, but found nothing but dust bunnies. The bunk bed was a big part of why he was in such a rush to leave — sleeping in it every night still stung, a reminder of all the upheavals and betrayals and dashed hopes from last spring that had redirected his whole life and ruined his future.

And there was plenty of time to dwell on all that each night, because Ford still wasn’t used to falling asleep without someone else in the room.

He tried to slip out the front door without anyone noticing, but Caryn caught him.

“Hold it right there, Stanford!” she called. “You’re not seriously about to leave for college without giving your dear old Ma a hug first, are you?”

“Mom, I’m going to miss the bus at this rate,” Ford grumbled, but he gave her a quick hug as she kissed his forehead.

Filbrick watched from the stairs, looking neither proud nor disappointed.

“Did you pack your suit and tie?” he asked.

“Yes, Dad. They’re already in the dorm room.”

“Good. Now, go impress some smart people.”

“In Backupsmore, I’m not sure how many other smart people there’ll be to impress,” Ford muttered under his breath. Then, raising his voice, he added: “Well… goodbye, I guess. I’ll call you when I get there, Mom.”

The bus stop was about halfway across town, and if the last bus of the day was actually running on time for once, Ford suspected he’d be cutting it close, so he walked down the street at a brisk pace.

I’ve got everything I need, right? No more textbooks to bring along, no one else to say goodbye to…

He paused as he passed the sidewalk offshoot that led to the beach. His suitcase kept rolling, its extendable handle jabbing into his back.

Had he left anything on the Stan O’ War? He hadn’t been there since… well, since the argument…

He rubbed his back, took a look at his watch and did some quick mental math, and started to head for the beach.

Just a quick detour. The bus will probably be late anyways.

***

The boat wasn’t quite as much of a wreck as he’d feared, but enough of a wreck that he still couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Splotches of seagull poop dotted the deck, and something reeked like some small animal had gotten stuck under the planks and died. Pools of off-color water from last week’s rainstorms welled up in corners, and worst of all, the flag had evidently been stolen.

Ford shooed away a few gulls as he boarded the boat and examined the contents of the cabin: a cheap compass, a slightly water-damaged vexillology book, and an unopened bag of toffee peanuts.

“What am I doing?” He shook his head. “Why did I think I’d find anything useful here?!”

As he stormed off the boat, he could’ve sworn that the creaking of the planks beneath his feet sounded… disappointed. And lonely.

“No!” he muttered to himself, surely confusing anyone who might’ve been watching. “I’m not going to get guilted into missing my bus by an inanimate object! It is perfectly normal for me to feel nostalgic, against my better judgement, for a project I poured hours of work into, but it is also perfectly logical to leave it behind now. This was an unrealistic dream, and now I’m finally moving on to a more realistic one!”

He checked his watch, and sped up his pace. Assuming the last bus to Backupsmore was running late again, he should’ve still been able to make it…

He rounded the corner just in time to see the bus pulling away — slightly behind schedule, but not nearly as much as usual. Not quite as much as Ford had needed.

“Wait!” he yelled, breaking into a sprint and waving frantically in an attempt to catch the driver’s attention, but the wheels of his suitcase hit a bump in the side walk and he lost his grip on the handle. By the time he’d picked it up again, the bus was long gone.

“Well, fuck my whole life, I guess!” Ford muttered. He had half a mind to just lie down on the sidewalk and stay there until someone decided he was being too much of a nuisance and dragged him away. Why had he thought checking on the boat would be a worthwhile use of his time? Why had he ever thought the boat would be worth anything?

He pulled out his Backupsmore brochure and double-checked the orientation schedule — it didn’t start until ten the next morning. That was more than enough time to take a series of taxis, or hitchhike, or something — because spending another night in his parents’ house just wasn’t an option. Not with Caryn doting on her one remaining son with an enthusiasm meant for two, not with Filbrick constantly grilling Ford on how he planned to first make a good impression and later make a fortune, and certainly not with that empty, empty room and that goddamn bunk bed.

So Ford took a moment to stretch his already-sore arms, and then set off in the general direction of the road to Backupsmore.

***

Hitchhiking wasn’t as easy as Ford had hoped it would be, and the storm brewing overhead didn’t seem to do much to make drivers feel more sympathetic towards his plight.

“At least it’s not actually raining yet,” Ford said to himself, and was immediately met with a droplet of water striking his glasses. “Damn it.”

As he dried them off with his shirt, he heard a ear-grating ringing sound coming from ahead, and looked up to see the arms of the railroad gate closing. “Damn it!”

For a second, he seriously considered making a mad dash for it, trying to duck under the gate and get across the tracks before the train could block them — but that moment of hesitation was all the train needed to speed into view.

And then, as if to to add insult to injury, it ground to a halt, blocking the road and stretching as far as the eye could see in either direction.

“Oh, come on!” Ford groaned as a few more raindrops struck his glasses. “Has the whole universe collectively decided not to cut me a single break today?!”

He took a deep breath. “Okay, calm down. I can probably sneak between the cars and get across…”

He blinked a few times as he approached the tracks, vision blurred by his wet glasses. Strangely, it looked less like the freight trains Ford was used to and more like a passenger train, with windows illuminated by a neon green light that stood out in the stormy August afternoon.

He took a step towards the stairs near the back of a car, and to his surprise, the destination sign lit up to read Backupsmore University.

Which was weird, because this railroad crossing in the middle of nowhere didn’t seem like a train station, but Ford wasn’t about to let his good fortune go to waste. Lifting up his suitcase, he cautiously placed a foot on the first step…

A vortex of shimmering green and gold lit up the staircase, and before Ford could even react, everything went white.

***

Something poked Ford in the face, and he groaned, rolling to the side. “Five more minutes…”

He was met with a hissing noise that absolutely did not belong in his bedroom, and he instinctively swatted at the source of the sound. He opened his eyes just in time to see a bright orange praying mantis the size of his hand go flying.

“Ugh! What kind of dorm room is —”

His voice cut off as his eyes adjusted, and he took in his surroundings. Trees as tall as skyscrapers with leaves colored like bursts of flames surrounded him, and the sky overhead was a deep emerald green.

“Oh,” Ford muttered. “So I’m concussed and hallucinating. Wonderful.”

He heard the hissing sound again, and looked down to see the mantis approaching his foot, almost perfectly camouflaged atop the blanket of orange and crimson leaves that covered the forest floor. The only feature that stood out were its large blue-gray eyes, which showed more emotion than Ford had ever seen in an insect, looking almost… apologetic?

It chirped, and darted off between the trees, doubling back a moment later when it realized Ford wasn’t following it. It waved a scythe-like arm in the air, as if beckoning him.

“Hallucinating, and anthropomorphizing the emotions of a non-sapient insect,” Ford muttered to himself. “Unless I got… transported to another dimension, but how could that possibly —”

He looked down at his hands, expecting to see a clear indicator that he was dreaming like an incorrect number of fingers, but all six — and no more — were present on each hand. But that wasn’t all.

On his right palm was a number, green and glowing and unchanging:

166

“This — this is just some kind of cruel joke! Would I hallucinate this?” He waved his hand in the air, wiped it on his shirt, spat on it and rubbed it with his thumb — but nothing even caused the glow to fade, much less wash off. “What the hell?”

The mantis hissed again, then began to scuttle off, and Ford got the distinct impression that it was getting impatient, and wouldn’t wait around for him another time. So he followed it, weaving between trees and listening to leaves crunch beneath his feet as he stepped over twisted roots and gurgling streams.

It was a genuinely beautiful scene, he had to admit. Under different circumstances, he might’ve stopped to do a sketch — though he struggled to imagine a scenario in which he’d be so unfazed by alien worlds that he’d feel comfortable just sitting down and taking a moment to draw.

As he walked, he checked the contents of his backpack — it contained everything he’d packed in it earlier that afternoon, as far as he could remember — but realized his suitcase was nowhere in sight. Which wasn’t a unfixable, since there hadn’t been anything in it that he couldn’t replace, but sure wasn’t great news either. He didn’t have the money to buy books whenever he felt like it, especially with classes starting in the fall. (Assuming he even had a chance to get out of whatever this place was and back to Backupsmore, that was.)

The mantis came to a halt, and Ford, lost in thought, only barely avoided stepping on it. It faced the largest tree Ford had seen yet, easily fifteen feet in diameter — but strangest of all was the door carved into the trunk, one lone sign of human involvement in what otherwise appeared to be an untouched wilderness.

The mantis turned back to Ford, chirped twice, and then sprung into a nearby bush, disappearing from sight. Not having any better plans, Ford shrugged and twisted the golden handle of the door. It swung open with a metallic creaking noise, but little resistance, to reveal…

Finally, the memory of boarding the train at the railroad crossing returned to Ford as he found himself staring at the bridge between two colossal train cars. As he stepped through the door, a gust of dry air instantly hit him, and he realized the train was speeding through a barren wasteland, devoid of any signs of civilization as far as he could see.

And he was pretty sure of two things: first, that this didn’t resemble any environment in the northeastern United States, and second, that he hadn’t been unconscious long enough for the train to leave that region.

“This is another dimension? Or maybe a series of pocket dimensions? Unless…” He ducked back inside the forest car, and on a hunch, attempted to walk past the door’s tree. Sure enough, his face smacked into a wall, and the hyper-realistic image of the continuing forest path flickered for a moment.

“Not so much pocket dimensions as sophisticated simulations, then,” Ford concluded, readjusting his glasses and rubbing his sore nose. He was probably going to wind up with a bruise. “Assuming the other cars work under the same rules…”

He hurried across the bridge between cars, grimacing as he looked down. Trying to jump down to the wasteland would be a reckless decision even by his standards, given the massive height drop as well as the lack of shelter or resources as far as the eye could see. Besides, it was the train that held so many unanswered mysteries and potentially infinite environments to explore…

Ready to experience the discovery of a lifetime, Ford opened the next door, and found himself facing a classroom of screaming beavers.

There were about two dozen of them, and they made an unbearable racket as they threw themselves across the room, hurling school supplies at each other and gnawing on the wooden legs of their own desks and chairs. None of the students stood any taller than Ford’s knees, but their sheer numbers made it impossible for the teacher to control them. He was the lone anthropomorphic animal out of the bunch, appearing to be a perfectly normal human man except for his beaver head and tail, and he kept trying to smack the unruly students on their heads with a yardstick — only for one of them to snatch it out of his hands, and gnaw it in half in a matter of seconds.

The teacher stared at Ford with wide, pleading beaver eyes. Ford stared back.

“Why the fuck,” he asked, “did you give them desks made of wood?!”

A single tear ran down the beaver teacher’s cheek.

“What else were you expecting to happen?!” Ford shouted.

The teacher crumpled to the floor, curling into the fetal position as he began to softly weep. Ford started to cautiously make his way through the classroom, carefully stepping over beavers while holding his sleeve over his face to avoid inhaling any sawdust.

He nearly lost his balance and toppled to the ground when one beaver sprang past him, grabbing ahold of the handle at the bottom of the pull-down map hanging in the front of the classroom. The map immediately rolled back up, yanking the beaver to the top of the now-exposed blackboard. Grinning as evilly as a beaver could grin, it popped in a pair of earplugs, and then raked its claws across the blackboard’s surface.

Ford clapped his hands over his ears, concerns about sawdust abandoned, and sprinted for the exit. The other beavers charged after him, frothing at the mouth and wailing in agony from the sound, but he slammed the door behind him, and breathed a sigh of relief that their tiny little beaver hands weren’t quite dextrous enough to maneuver the door handle.

“On to the next… car… then,” he panted as he crossed the next bridge. “Let’s see how much more of this… my eardrums can take…”

***

One pizzeria car, one dance battle car (which Ford was initially skeptical about, but ended up absolutely rocking), and one literal train murder mystery car later, Ford found himself exploring an underground cavern.

“Please refrain from touching the stalactites and stalagmites,” the bat tour guide cheerily informed him, “as the oils from your greasy human skin can damage them. But you’ll see that we’re approaching a small lake, and you will need to use the natural rock formations as stepping stones at that point, unless you want to go for a swim — which I wouldn’t recommend, since the water is only about fifty-five degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Do you get a lot of visitors here?” Ford asked it. “And do any of them prefer actually reasonable temperature systems, like Celsius?”

“Maybe one visitor a week, if I’m lucky,” the bat replied. “The train has plenty of passengers, but also a lot of other attractions besides this humble cave, so they’re spread fairly thin.”

Ford gestured to the number on his hand. “Do all the passengers have numbers like these?”

“Sure do. Not always the same number, though.”

“Do you know what it means?”

“Not a clue. I can tell you all about the geology of this place, though! Lots of famous caves are made of limestone, but this one is actually made of dolomite!”

Crossing the lake wasn’t too difficult, though Ford’s shoes were splashed a few times as he stepped between columns of stone that stood about even with the water level and resembled particularly sturdy lily pads. Even with ice-cold feet, he found that he couldn’t help but smile.

Aside from the beaver car, this train really hadn’t been so bad. He’d much rather spend years learning from supernaturally smart animals than from underpaid professors at Backupsmore — not to mention the breathtaking environments he kept finding himself in, like the crimson forest and this massive cave system. The only thing keeping him from wanting to stay forever was the lack of companionship, with all the train’s inhabitants staying behind in their own cars…

“The door is right up ahead,” the bat chirped in his ear. “Can’t miss it. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay on the train!”

“Do you know how I get off the train?” Ford asked.

“Well, when you reach your destination, of course! Just don’t ask me what yours is, because I don’t know either.”

“Okay. Thanks for the cave facts, this was fun.”

“Anytime!”

As Ford crossed over to the next car, he happened to glance at his right palm:

163

“Wait, it was 166 before! When did it change?”

He rushed back to the cave car, and poked his head back inside. “Hey! Uh, Batty? I didn’t catch your name — but anyways, did you see when my number changed? It dropped three whole points!”

The bat fluttered back towards him. “Hmm. It was definitely 166 back on the other side of the lake. I’m not sure beyond that.”

“Well, I guess that’s better than nothing. Thanks again.”

Ford sighed, as he began walking towards the next car for the second time. “Why wasn’t I paying more attention? That could’ve been a vital clue, but now I only have a vague time interval to go off of…”

He kept rambling to himself as he opened the next door and entered, hardly even paying attention to the contents of the new car. “Was it a vocal trigger? A physical trigger? Either of those I could’ve tested and tried to replicate, if only I was actually recording what I was doing when —”

“No fucking way,” he heard a familiar voice mutter.

Halfway across the car, leaning up against a jagged cliff face, was Stanley.

***

(Endnotes:

Thanks for reading, feedback/reblogs are appreciated as always! The cave car Ford visits is highly inspired by Onondaga Cave in Missouri - look up that cave's "Lily Pad Room," and you'll get a good idea of how Ford crossed that lake.

I have a pretty detailed outline for the remaining chapters, so ideally there won't be any long gaps between updates. It's just a matter of how often I have the time available to transform outline into prose.)

#gravity falls #infinity train #infinity train spoilers #stanford pines #stanley pines #filbrick pines #ma pines #fic: fateful detours #rosalia writes fic

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narilgc · 5 years ago

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for the past week, everything had been going extraordinarily better than they usually had been. nari rarely found herself up at night stressing over training sessions, or exhausted with the same mundane routine. though she’d been very busy with the new schedule put upon her, she’d also had the chance to try many different things that she’d never done before. from the audition, to getting to know her new label mates, to being cast in date lottery. things were looking up, and finally nari felt she was breaking from the cycle she’d so desperately wanted to change.

amidst all the chaos, her concern for her family had been at the center of it all, calling them even more frequently than usual to update them on all her accomplishments. she couldn’t help but feel a little down, however. she felt she had to keep a happy medium of keeping her family in the know without seeming boastful. admittedly, it did bring her down a little bit, knowing she wasn’t able to visit them and tell them the good news in person. though they were elated and didn’t seem to mind at all, the guilt of going a long time without seeing them was beginning to eat her up. she figures she’s going to have to settle on phone calls for now, though, but just as she settles herself into her bed her mom beats her to the call.

before she can even call herself, the familiar sound of one of her mom’s favorite songs rings out from her phone. tapping onto the screen with one sharp nail, she answers, and is soon met with the soft voice of her mother. she can’t help but have a small smile at the sound, feeling overcome with both sentiment and adoration.

“ mom, how have you been ? have you been eating well ? is dad doing okay ? ” a thousand concerns rush out of her mouth before she can help them, but without response her mother simply laughs in amusement. as her parents were growing older and less of her brothers were around to watch them, she always worried about whether or not they were having a hard time. she can hear a little rustling, and before long, a gruff voice answers her question.

“ now we’re not old and useless yet, nari. we’re doing just fine, sweetie, okay ? just make sure you’re staying safe in seoul - i don’t trust those big cities. too much going on. ” despite his rough way of talking, the man’s voice is laced with evident affection, and nari recognizes it as no one else but her dad. lifting herself to sit up, she exclaims a loud “ dad ! ” as her face fills with childish glee. she’d have to apologize to her dorm-mates for the noise later. she’d never anticipated both her parents calling at the same time - usually one of them was resting and had time to call, while the other was busy at work. rarely did neither of them have their hands full for long enough to make time to call her together. it was an unexpected yet sweet surprise, which makes her hold the phone just a little tighter. “ mom, dad, why are you calling so late ? shouldn’t you be sleep by now ? did myungsuck not come to make sure you guys got to bed ? ” truthfully, she hadn’t been all too concerned with her parent’s prior to moving as she was now. before, she’d been to preoccupied with being doted on as the youngest, and didn’t have the maturity to be as invested. now, however, things were a little different. without seeing them everyday, she was a lot more worried about them than she had been.

“ gosh, nari, sweetie, stop worrying so much ! ” her mother insists, though her voice doesn’t raise above it’s usual hushed tone. “ we’re fine, sweetie, relax. we’re calling so late because we just got some very special news ! you’re letting them now about your rooming situation by the 18th, right ? ” ah, right. she must’ve heard something from the company about the living situations for the new actors. apparently, conditions were better for them than general trainees, so her mother must have heard and got excited over the upgrade. living on her own would have been really nice, but she didn’t have the funds nor time to find a place in time for the deadline. it was a bit of a bummer, but she’d have to make do. it wouldn’t be so bad, right ?

“ mm, i heard the news already ! ” the silence on the other end proves her parents are a little confused with her response, and she’s equally confused with their’s. “ that ... that the actors get better living conditions, right ? that’s it ? ” she asks, eyebrows furrowing, puzzled.

in that moment, she hears her father sigh, as her mom gives off a breathy laugh. what was going on ? after a moment, her mom begins to speak. “ ah, you must’ve heard about that. but we’ve got even better news ! we just got off the phone with your new landlord. we’ve been searching hard, and ... finally we found a place for you we can afford. nari, baby, we’ve got you an apartment ! all for you - we’ll pay for everything. ”

what ... was ... going ... on ? nari’s in this clueless sort of daze, as she tries her best to understand the words being spoken to her. how ... how could it be ? her parents hadn’t said anything about an apartment to her, so it hadn’t even been in her mind. they could barely afford to manage themselves, so how was she supposed to accept something like this ?

“ no way. no way ! ” she’s saying it as both an exclamation of disbelief and a rejection of the offer, shaking her head as if they were there. “ i - no way, i can’t take it. you have a lot on your plate right now, and the last thing i want is to stress you out if i don’t have to. take the money and eat well, and live comfortably, okay ? i don’t want to be a burden. ”

now it’s her dad’s turn to laugh, and she can hear his low chuckle even through the screen. “ i knew that my little ox would say that. ” it was a nickname she had for years, but hated, a mockery of her stubborn nature. “ but this is final, nari. you don’t want to argue with your parents, do you ? now let us do this one thing for you. ” her mother then chimes in to talk. “ your father’s right, nari. this is something we’ve been thinking long and hard about. since you were little, we’ve been saving up, little by little, for you. we knew your brothers would have the farm and manage, but you’re our little girl. as soon as you started to sing around the shop i knew you’d want more than that, so we want to support you in the best way we can. ”

their mutual support for her warms her heart, and she tries her best to keep her composure in front of the others around her. “ i - no, i’ve got it, i swear. i can just live in the dorms ! ” she’s adamant on resisting their offer, but it seems their mind is already made up. “ nari, i’m your mother, i know you. i know you’re not going to willingly take it, but i’m making you. we wanted to originally pay for your schooling - but you surpassed any of us, and got a scholarship. we wanted to pay for your surgery, but you got a job so you could do it on your own. we were going to help get you on your feet, but by 17 so already had a career and were on your own. you did all those things on your own - and we’re so proud of you. we’re not just giving it away, sweetheart, you’ve earned it. ”

all she feels in that moment is a strong, overwhelming love and appreciation from her parents. with her mom saying it’s not a debt, she feels a little better, feeling as if it’s something she deserves rather than just being given. she’s worked for it. the last bit of her stubbornness has her starting to interject, but her mom’s already talking.

“ now, nari, this isn’t any mansion or anything, so it’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it. but it’s in seoul, and gosh, the rent’s so expensive there. it’s on the smaller side, but it’s got everything you need. it’s walking distance from the company, everything’s clean and up to date, and i think with your decorating skills you can really do something with the place. ”

“ but most importantly the landlord’s an old friend of mine, and she lives on the lower level, so if you ever need anything you’re in good hands. there’s security cameras all around the complex, and there’s a police station not too far away. ” she should’ve known her father would be more preoccupied with her safety than anything else, and the familiar tendencies cause a smile to appear on her face once more. though still reluctant, she’s warming up to the idea. if it’s what her parent’s truly wanted to do for her, she knew she couldn’t stop them.

“ so, nari, you’re going to have to go to her place when you’re done with training and pick up the keys. it’s in our name, and we’ve handled all the boring things, so don’t worry about that, hmm ? i just want to see you happy. we all do. ” nari sniffles a little bit, her gratitude overtaking her, before trying to cover it up with a breathy laugh.

“ thank you, guys. really, i’m so excited - this is a huge relief for me. i love you so much. ”

“ don’t rest so easily. you know minhyuk always has business in seoul, so he’ll be there to check in with you from time to time. don’t go too wild, ” her father warns, though she can basically hear him smiling through the phone. always one to try and keep up the rough exterior.

after a few laughs and goodbyes, she hangs up the phone, but is left with this goofy smile on her face. she really hadn’t thought things could get better, and yet they were. she looks out the window, and through the darkness, she can make out pink petals springing up from the ground.

the flowers were in full blossom, and so was nari.

#( if you knew my story :: development. )#wc: 1823 #this is just for fun #but tldr; nari's parents bought her a little apartment !! ^^

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finfleet-blog · 5 years ago

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all about finley fleetwood

an intro to my darling boy, finley (fin, if you know him like that)! below, you’ll find everything you need to know about fin - at least, for now.

(also, hi, i’m june [she/her - est - 18] and i’m the one responsible for him)

the basics.

full name: Finley Fleetwood

pronouns/gender identity: he/him; cis male

birth date: march 19, 1960

blood status: halfblood

3 key positive traits: reliable; optimistic; perceptive

3 key negative traits: overly idealistic; naive; impatient

academics.

primary wizarding school & graduation year: puddlemere institute of magic for boys, class of ‘78

degree & cohort: social sciences degree with a magical languages and world culture cohort (likely to change eventually; he doesn’t really care about this degree)

house & year: 1st year Hufflepuff

extracurriculars: Hufflepuff chaser hopeful

headcanons & more.

I. Finley Fleetwood Isn’t All He Thought (But, To Be Fair, He Thought He Was A Lot)

Finley Fleetwood had always, even when he was dreaming of his Hoggy Warty future back in Puddlemere, liked the idea of being a Gryffindor. After all, his parents had been, and their parents before them had too, so it seemed natural. His parents, in their own quiet way, seemed sure it was where he’d end up. All the boy’d ever done, after all, was play quidditch, day in and day out. He was bright enough, but never concerned with books; he was gentle enough, but that seemed a minor aspect of his personality, and he was as far from cunning as they came.

His father had been a bit more obvious than his mother about his thoughts on the whole matter. The day before his departure, as Finley was packing his things, his father had came up, clapped him on the shoulder and said,

“Well, lad, what’ll it be? You feeling alright about your Sorting?”

“Yeah,” Fin replied, grinning. Like his father, his face always betrayed his disposition, even when he didn’t mean for it to. “I’ll be Gryffindor, no doubt. Watch, Dad, I’ll be captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team before you even start to miss me!”

His dad exhaled, looking fondly at his son. They’d made perhaps one mistake in raising him, and that had been a complete failure to explain to Finley that some things simply couldn’t be done. Even at eighteen, he’d never really come to grips with the fact that he was not so infinite in his possibilities as he’d been told. “That’s my boy,” he said, “Now, do you really need to pack all those sweaters?”

Finley had been quite confident then, but now, knowing his name was swiftly approaching, he felt a solid mass of nerves settling down into his chest. When had he ever been brave? He’d never needed to be brave, so it wasn’t like he had a chance to find out. What if he was put in Slytherin? Certainly that was impossible, he-

“Finley Fleetwood!!”

Oh, for the love of Merlin. This was it. He walked forward, clutching the sides of his robe to keep his hands from shaking. He sat, and as the hat lowered onto his head, he held his breath.

“HUFFLEPUFF!!”

Well, it could’ve been worse.

II. Finley Fleetwood Has a Ferret (And Isn’t In Touch With Reality)

Finley’s first year at Puddlemere was arguably the best of his life. To be fair, he’d had a lot of good years, but this was something completely new. He wasn’t living with his parents anymore, and could do anything he wanted. He didn’t want to do a lot, to his parents’ relief. Mostly, he stayed up a tad later than he would at home and he ate a bit more sugar than they would prefer. Even in what should’ve been his independence from them, Finley remained attached to his parents in primary school, sending them weekly letters to let them know how things were going. He never really branched out, and his friends were more just quidditch buddies than anything else, but still, he loved it.

For his birthday that year, Finley got a ferret. A real, live ferret, with eyes that were nothing short of soulful and that smelled so horrid it became her namesake. Smelly was, for a short time, his world entire. He charmed her to mask the smell (he didn’t mind, but he got the feeling his dormmates would), and trained her as well as one can train a ferret. She understood him, even when nobody else did, and when he woke up early in the morning to train she was there to motivate him. She’s on her last few years, now, but Finley refuses to accept this and is actively looking for a way to return her youth.

III. Finley Fleetwood Might Have Control Issues (But We Don’t Talk About Those)

Growing up with parents like Fin’s gave way to a largely happy and functioning child, but it left him with several qualities that are less than ideal. An only child, he’s not exactly the best at putting up with people putting their mess into his otherwise pristine space. That is, to say, he’s a nightmare dormmate. Everything needs to be just so, every piece of clothing needs to be tucked neatly away, and all lights need to be off by midnight. He extends the same sort of compulsive control to himself: in the absence of his parents, somebody has to keep his bubble upheld. He wakes at the same time each morning, sleeps at the same time each night, and doesn’t like his schedule interrupted.

IV. Finley Fleetwood Is Going To Be The World’s Best Chaser (Or So He Tells Himself)

One byproduct of Fin’s bright outlook is a complete and total confidence that, if he applies himself, he will be the best chaser there ever was. Puddlemore was the place for him - it let him focus most of his energy on what mattered, so that one day he could rise to the absolute pinnacle of Quidditch stardom. He doesn’t think he’s good, he knows he’s good, because he has to be. It’s all he knows he can do. His degree and cohort were chosen entirely on a whim, because he was overwhelmed, and instead of leaving himself uncertain he opted for studies he didn’t care for so he’d have a backup plan, but realistically he can’t see himself doing anything other than quidditch. He’s shooting for the Hufflepuff team captain eventually, and hopes to one day play for Puddlemere United. Is he really all that good? No - he’s a bit above average purely because it’s where he spends all his energy, but he’s certainly not exemplary. Don’t tell him I said that, he doesn’t know yet.

Wand: Ash with Unicorn Hair core, 12 ¾”, solid flexibility

Boggart: The corpses of his parents and Smelly, rotting and crawling with maggots

Patronus: a Furcifer Chameleon

Moral alignment: Chaotic good

MBTI: ENFJ

Aesthetic: Sunrises in the spring; the first hug with a friend you haven’t seen in ages; a knowing smile when someone opens a gift they’ll love; getting excited over cool socks; having no sense of style past cool socks; listening to Christmas music in October

Plotting/connection Ideas:

Finley is soooo naive. He’s been sheltered his whole life and doesn’t know how to react to conflict because he’s never really had to before. Coming into Hogwarts, though, I feel like his worldview is going to open up in a lot of ways he won’t like and he’s gonna handle it poorly. Like, really poorly.

What I’m saying here is break his heart. Don’t be his friend. Let all his smiley good feelings sink into anger and self doubt.

That being said, connection ideas:

-A quidditch friend! I know I just said not to be his friend, but that smile has to get through to somebody. He works really hard for quidditch, which, depending on the teammate, could either be endearing or annoying (maybe somewhere in between). Which leads me to…

-A quidditch rival: this person is unnervingly good, and Fin is vaguely terrified of this fact. This can be requited or unrequited (also, maybe enemies to friends or enemies to friends to more than friends possible?), but either way, Finley can’t stand the idea that he might not be the best quidditch player in history.

-A non-quidditch friend: When he takes a break from trying to set his dreams into action, Fin does need someone that doesn’t even remotely care for quidditch.

-Someone to completely shatter his reality: Wake! Him! Up! Fin is so reliant on his routine that he doesn’t know how to function without it. This can be a positive relationship or a negative one (tbd).

-An absolute enemy: Give him someone to despise, he needs it! Maybe they’re a blood purist and torment him on his blood status, maybe they’re an unbearably messy roommate, maybe they keep stealing the last of the blueberry scones in the morning before he can get to them, who knows!

#sleepingdooc

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asterinjapan · 5 years ago

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Of smoke and cherry blossoms

Hello from Kyushu!

I might have arrived in Fukuoka last night, but I wasted no time getting as far away as possible today whilst still on Kyushu, oops. (In my defense, I visited Fukuoka in 2015 already and did my explorations of the city itself back then.) Today I went to Kagoshima, the city almost furthest south on Kyushu.

I had to get up early, because I'd reserved a ticket for my favourite transportation mode: the shinkansen or bullet train. For the record, these trains are not cheap, but I can travel with them as much as I want with my JR pass, so I sure am gonna! My train today (the sakura shinkansen: very aptly named, you'll see soon) took me down to Kagoshima Chuo station in an hour and a half, with leg space for days, and ahhh, this is a luxury I get used to too quickly, haha.

At the station, I picked up the Cute pass that gives me unlimited rides on buses, trams and ferries here (and no, I still don't know where that name came from either, but I'm betting it's a bad pun). Just as well, because I took a bus to the ferry terminal as soon as I could, haha. You see, the symbol of Kagoshima is called Sakurajima, which translates to "cherry blossom island". It is also a volcano, and a very active one at that. That volcano in the Dutch news not too long ago? Yeah, Sakurajima. It erupts so often that it didn't even register on the Japanese news. But visiting the island is relatively safe - you're just not allowed up the actual volcano, and they're constantly monitoring the mountain just in case.

Onto the ferry I went! I was lucky, because I was only just in time for the Yorimichi cruise, which only departs once a day and takes 50 minutes cruising the bay, giving you extra views on the island from almost all angles. (The normal ferries operate around the clock and take just 15 minutes.) So that was a lovely entry on the island!

After arrival, I checked my maps. I could take a bus up, but I decided to first check out the surroundings. There was a shrine a literal stone's throw away, Tsukiyomi shrine, which was placed here fairly recently. Back in the Taisho era, in 1914, there was a huge eruption that buried a good amount of buildings, including the original shrine. It was reconstructed again in its current place in 1940 and has the volcano for a backdrop if you look at it straight on. The shrine is dedicated to Konohana-sakuya-hime, or princess Sakuya for short, a symbol of delicate life and also deity of mount Fuji and all volcanoes. The cherry blossom (sakura) also represents the fleetingness of life, by the way, so that's one theory for where the name of the island came from, although it appears the shrine came later than the name.

After a quick prayer here (seemed like a smart move to appease the nature deities), I walked on, finding it a lot hotter than I had expected this morning, so I took a break with some ice cream and the last of my bread sticks.

Moving on, I found a much better resting spot: the Yogan Nagisa park footbath! It's a 100 meter long footbath (The longest in Japan) and filled with natural hot spring water, pleasantly lukewarm to my weary feet. I soaked them here for a while, enjoying the view of the bay on one side and the volcano on the other under blue skies, because the weather continues to be gorgeous (for now, anyway).

Very nearby is the visitor centre, which is a small museum like building offering information about volcanoes and Sakurajima in particular. This was very informative, nicely done with a lot of miniatures and photos, and a lot of English translations, which was good, because I'm tired and my brain doesn't really compute the Japanese characters very well today, oops. I spent quite some time here and walked out with my very own piece of volcanic rock from the store.

There's actually a sight seeing bus going around on Sakurajima, starting at the ferry terminal and also hitting the visitor centre, so I waited for a few minutes and caught the next one.

The buses used to stop at every viewpoint for a couple of minutes, but they stopped doing that very recently, as it was only announced on leaflets in the bus itself and nowhere online. It didn't really matter, because I only wanted to visit one viewpoint anyway: Yunohira observatory, at 373 metres above sea level the highest viewpoint accessible. The view on Sakurajima was gorgeous, you could really see the details on the mountain from here as the weather was so clear.

I was so busy looking that i missed the bus, but the viewpoint also has a shop and little cafe, so I got some ice coffee and settled in for a while until the next bus arrived half an hour later.

Back at the terminal, the next ferry was scheduled for 15 minutes later, so I was back on kagoshima port within half an hour. It was around 4 pm then, so I thought I'd explore Kagoshima itself too for a bit.

My actual goal was Shiroyama observatory, but shiro here means castle, so I first wanted to check out what little remained of the castle of Kagoshima, or Tsurumaru Castle, which wasn't much to begin with. There was never any amazing main tower or anything in order not to offend the shogun, as the castle was built when there was a lot of tension between the new shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu and the Shimazu clan. The former had defeated the latter in the decisive battle of Sekigahara in 1600, after which Japan was unified and entered a long period of relative peace under the Tokugawa shogunate.

Regardless, the domain ruled from the castle, Satsuma, remained one of the strongest, and you might recognize the name from my Okinawa reports. Satsuma was that domain that annexed the Ryukyu islands back in the 17th century.

Oops, an impromptu history lesson. I just love castles, what can i say, haha.

As it turns out, they're rebuilding a gate here, so half the area was inaccessible, but I found some plates pointing to the remains of a watch tower anyway. On the actual former castle site, they'd now built a museum. There was also a pottery shop with cafe that was open for a bit longer, so i settled down here for a drink and toast with red bean paste, yum!

In retrospect, that should've been the point I turned back, but I wanted to check out the nearby viewpoint anyway. Uhhmm. So Google seemed to assume I could fly, since it claimed I was almost there at the bottom of a cliff, while nearby markers told me it was 1100 metres still. It was slowly getting dark, and you know what? I already saw the view I'd come for, time to go back to the station.

Now, the cute pass doesn't cover all buses, but it does cover all trams, and I remembered I'd crossed some tram rails on my way here, so i traced my own footsteps back to those and found the nearest team stop, which led to Kagoshima Chuo station too. On my way there, I saw a huge plume of smoke coming out of the volcano in the distance, after 2 much smaller puffs earlier today. Told you it was super active!

At the station I got a bento box for the train ride, as the next shinkansen was departing at 6:30 aka dinner time. I'd underestimated how much the train actually moves though. I should've looked into those motion sickness pills from Tokashiki... oh well. Between the box and the toast, I'd basically split my dinner already, haha.

I typed out most of my report on the train to save some time at the hotel, because I have another day trip planned for tomorrow. Although no shinkansen reservation, so I won't have to worry about missing my train and thus my reserved spot.

Time to prep and then off to bed! Wow, I'm tired, haha. Should've tried sleeping in the train. Maybe tomorrow, see you then!

#japan 2019 #report: japan 2019 #places: kagoshima #report

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kisstheburnsaway · 6 years ago

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Crazy, He Calls Me

Original post: HERE

Anonymous asked: Companions and phone sex 👀 are they good at it? what do they say?

[[For starters, I’d like to thank you for making my AU-hating arse think up how in all hells would “phone” sex even work in the Wasteland; that’s exactly how I wanted to spend these last few days. Second, this barely counts anyway. Take it or leave it.]]

[[Also, mild NSFW ahead. Well, you did say “sex” at me. Own it.]]

Cait: Sole gave her one of the better-looking Pip-Boys from Vault 88 after they were finished with their business there, and Cait got almost as addicted to it as she had been to Psycho and was now to Sole. Honestly, it was definitely one of the most useful devices she’d ever gotten her hands on, including that one time when she’d found a still-working vibrator in one of the old hotels. Anyways, thinking back to that time and to how now, typically, she didn’t need one… but… Well, it could always be better in some way, right?

So one day, when Sole was busy with running around and talking to people, Cait told them she’d be in the nearest bar, but she hid in one of the alleys and recorded a holotape which she then slipped into Sole’s gear when they were sleeping.

Sole found it the next day when they were on the road, pulling it out of their coat pocket with honest surprise on her face. Given that they usually stored the holotapes they’d found back at home as soon as they could, it must’ve really been surprising to find one that escaped that scrutiny. Cait watched them out of the corner of her eye as they inserted the tape into their Pip-Boy.

“Oi, love, I was just thinkin’ about you,” Cait’s voice spoke up. Sole threw them a surprised glance, but Cait pretended not to hear or see anything. The tape continued: “And I was thinkin’ how nice your body feels next to me. How good it feels to go down at you to wake you up from a bad dream in the middle of the night. And how good your hands feel when they’re runnin’ all over me body. Mmm…”

That was the end of the tape. Sole didn’t say anything or follow up on it in any way. Except next day it was Cait who found a tape in her gear, and this time it was her heart beating like crazy when she put it in her Pip-Boy. She looked at Sole, but they conveniently pretended not to see anything.

“My dear, the truth is that if you want me, all you need to do is spread your legs and ask nicely. I’m more than happy to fulfill your every desire, whatever it might be. My hands on your body is just the beginning…”

Soon, the idea of recording indecent tapes and hiding them in one another’s gear turned into a sort of a silly game of “whoever gives in first”, which at least more often than not ended with them passionately fucking in their tent at night. Cait couldn’t complain.

Curie: Back when Curie had been a Ms. Nanny, she’d helped Sole download the e-mail program framework from University Point’s terminals. And for that, once they got back home, she’d received her own terminal because, as Sole said, “she contributed and she deserved it”. Fast-forward to a few months later, to a settlement-wide party to celebrate Sole’s birthday, which, organised by Hancock, very quickly turned into drunken revelry. Sole, once they’d had a few drinks, wouldn’t let Curie out of their sight, putting their arm around her and pulling her along wherever they’d go. Curie didn’t mind much—it was indeed an interesting occasion to observe people’s behavior and listen to their stories when they were intoxicated, even if she only sipped a single drink that didn’t work on her synth body anyway.

A few days later, Sole was busying themself with some spring cleaning when they’d heard a chime of a new e-mail from their terminal. It was from Curie, and the title said, “Experimentation Schedule”. Very benign. Also, misguiding.

“My dear Sole,

I have decided upon the schedule of our upcoming experimentation and herefore sending you a draft just like you asked for. I know of many things that you also like to ask for, so I included them in this draft. The schedule for next week is as follows…

On Monday, we shall engage in chemical testing. I would like to take pH-measure of your bodily fluids, most notably the saliva and vaginal fluid. But as we lack proper analytic tools for such tests, I am forced to resolve to using my tongue. I should hope the testing will be most enjoyable.

On Tuesday, we will perform some stress tests. This is most important for the control of your heart and whatever effects your new lifestyle and habits have on it. I would be very unhappy to skip these tests as it is your heart that brings me the most joy in life. The testing will involve exerting much physical effort and passive intake of fluids, administered through my new mouth-to-mouth technique.

On Wednesday, there shall be a physical examination. It is most important to do monthy check-ups and control how your body heals after the injuries it so often sustains. The pre-requisite of this exam is that you are fully unclothed as there should be no physical barriers between the doctor and her patient. Also, in order to keep you from losing precious warmth, we shall make sure your circulation is properly stimulated, allowing you to regulate your temperature more efficiently.

On Thursday, I will show you some washing techniques, to help you keep hygiene at minimal cost when you are traveling. Seeing as proper hygiene is the most important to living a healthy life, I believe this to be one of the most important activity of the week. It will take place in the shower of your home at 5 PM and continue throughout the night.

On Friday, I will teach you about proper hydration and nutrition with a specially prepared breakfast we will consume upon waking up. Once you are properly nourished, we will put this new lifestyle regime to the test with another stress test.

On Saturday, we shall take a long walk through the wilderness and study what we encounter along the way. Getting acquainted with one’s surroundings and environment is an important step to implementing a healthier lifestyle. We will get acquainted very well.

On Sunday we shall take the day off from experimentation and enjoy a quiet night together. As play is also quite important in training of one’s problem-solving skills and hand-eye coordination, I will provide several devices designed to help with the training.

That is everything I have planned for our next week together. I will be impatiently waiting for your approval of this schedule and begin preparations immediately.

Yours forever,

Curie”

Sole didn’t give their approval right away. They needed to go take a cold shower first.

Danse: [[Warning: borderline heresy. Sorry not sorry.]]

Surprisingly, Danse holds the black-belt of phone sex. Sole was shocked when he laughed at their drunken descriptions of their biweekly sessions with their spouse when they used to serve. Granted, Danse had a few too much to drink as well, but there was an unpalpable tang of sincerity to the story he told. Specifically, he recalled that in his first squad, back under the command of Paladin Krieg, he and Cutler would occasionally—and by ‘occasionally’ he meant ‘often’—spout sexual things at each other through the comm-links while the rest of the squad was choking with laughter. And when Sole asked what sort of things, Danse, blushing a little and with an intro of “Oh, we were young and stupid, and it was usually Cutler initiating these wildly inappropriate conversations”, gave them a recap of one of their conversations which went something like this:

“Oh, Danse, you mighty, mighty man… Oh, the things I’d let you do to me at night in my quarters. Over.”

“Yes, Cutler? Like what? Over.”

“Like at first, I’d let you put your hands on me… Over.”

“And what would you be wearing, Cutler? Over.”

“I’d have absolutely nothing on. I’d have undressed and washed and gotten all prepared for you, my lovely Danse. Over.”

“Mm, I’m starting to get behind this idea. I’d definitely use those hands for the betterment of mankind. Over.”

“And after my mankind couldn’t take any more betterment, what would you do? Over.”

(There was no way at this point that everyone in the squad wasn’t laughing, even Paladin Krieg.)

“I would continue our… training exercise. Move on to other locations. Over.”

“Oh, what sort of locations? Over.”

“Wherever you’d want me, my beloved Cutler. As long as you spoke up. Over.”

“Oh, Danse… Over.”

“Speak up, Cutler! Over.”

“Oh, Danse, but there are several unoccupied locations here! What do we do? Over.”

“We shall explore them one by one, no matter how unusual. Over.”

“Yes, Danse, keep telling me. Keep ordering me. I want you to be my Paladin tonight. Over.”

(You should’ve seen Krieg’s face at this point. Priceless.)

“Take my uniform off, Cutler. Over.”

“Gladly, my Paladin. Right away. Over.”

“Now bend over. Over.”

“Please, my Paladin, do whatever you want to me. Over.”

“I will, Cutler. You just relax. Over.”

“Yes, put it in me, put it in! I can’t wait!… Over.”

“Oh, Cutler, you’re so delightfully tight… Over.”

“And you, my Paladin Danse, you are… semper invicta. Over.”

“You make me such, brother. Ad victoriam. Over.”

“Yes, ad victoriaaam!”

…Upon getting their breath back, Sole asked why Danse even engaged in those conversations if they were so ‘wildly inappropriate’. Danse had no answer for them.

[[Did I say ‘mild NSFW’?? Can’t seem to recall…]]

Deacon: Deacon was something else. First time Sole found the note in the dead drop, obviously written in his handwriting, they couldn’t really believe it, especially since it wasn’t addressed to them. But really, who else could it be for? Sole stifled a sting of jealousy as their eyes glided along the lines: “If you were here right now, I would be pushing my dick down your throat. But since you’re not, I can only wallow in my loneliness”. Ah, that bold, bald idiot.

As they scribbled their response on the back of the note and put it back in the dead drop and especially as they closed the container behind them, they felt a rush of something… Like a thrill. Like when having sex in public. Their thoughts sprinted to that time at the park, with… but it was a long time ago. There was no point reliving it. They threw another glance at the container and left.

A few days later, Sole visited Railroad’s HQ, and lo and behold, Deacon was there too. They picked up the pace—it wasn’t often these days that they could see each other, what with his work as a field agent and their own duties and activities. But halfway through the room they saw that Deacon was actually hunched over what looked like a pile of papers, sitting on his mattress, head in hands.

“What’s up with him?” Sole asked no one in particular, but it was Doc Carrington who almost jumped out of his seat to answer.

“He got about twenty replies to that stupid note he left in every dead drop we have… I think he’s crying.”

“Oh, shut up,” they mumbled, but threw him a grin. Sometimes they thought they were the only ones who actually liked Carrington, even for all his flaws. But now they navigated over to Deacon’s mattress and before he even noticed them there, grabbed one of the notes at random and read the reply. “Oh, yes, Deacon, I’d love to gulp you down like a bottle of whiskey!”, it said. It wasn’t Sole’s reply. They looked at the pile of notes beneath their feet and Deacon’s miserable face, trying to stifle laughter.

“You should know my handwriting, honey,” they said. Deacon scoffed and threw some of the notes in the air like the dramatic actress that he was.

“You never handwrote a single thing to me!” he yelped. Sole patted his glistening baldness comfortingly.

“Now, now, it’s okay,” they said. “I didn’t reply to this silly thing anyway.”

Deacon looked up at them, squinted… “Just leave the lying to me, honey,” he said. “You’re lousy at it, I’m sorry to say.”

Sole chuckled. “Okay, fine, have it your way and keep looking for a note you have no idea about. Take a guess based only on how well you think you know me.” Deacon pouted, just a tiny little bit. “Or…” Sole said, leaning to his ear. “You can just pick a few of them out and then come find me, and we can play them out…” They bit the node of his ear playfully and walked off, leaving him slack-jawed and red up to the brow. When they looked around, they could see him frantically sorting through the notes.

Hancock: Since Sole noticed a ham radio at Hancock’s Old State House, they realized that would be a perfect way to communicate when they weren’t together—‘cause God knows Hancock always found a better way to communicate when they were. However, Sole didn’t account on him interrupting them in the middle of the night in the workshop as they were building new defense turrets for their settlement. And it was going really great until the ham radio crackled and bespoke:

“Hey, sunshine!” And then his voice got lower, huskier, and sexier: “Hope you’re naked over there ‘cause I sure am.”

Sole grabbed the microphone and said, “Goddammit, Hancock, you know I’m in the workshop. If I was naked here, I’d be up for losing a few body parts, like you.”

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Sole could almost hear him wink over the radio. “But still, how about I keep you… company?”

Sole didn’t reply.

“I mean, after you finish whatever you’re doing, maybe you’ll wanna operate some heavy machinery.”

“For fuck’s sake, Hancock, stop! I’m trying to work here.”

“Yeah, baby…” He breathed. “I love it when you do it with your hands…”

Sole blushed, getting hot all over, but instead of replying, they just focused on the task at ha… Dammit! The task. Period.

“I miss you, Sole…” Hancock’s voice, with its rasp and tone, and slightly distorted by the radio, was reaching Sole on a wholly different level of being. “...And little Han-cock misses you, too.”

“HANCOCK, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

“Don’t call him names! It’s okay, little one. Daddy will stroke you with love.”

Sole decided to ignore him. Just ignore him. It’s okay. He’s gonna get off that… Dammit! Come off… DAMMIT! He’s gonna be done… D-A-M-M-I-T. Nevermind.

“Sole, darling? Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you masturbating?”

“Why, Hancock, ‘DARLING’, why aren’t you stopping this trainwreck? Are you high?”

“Damn right I am.” And the shameless confidence in his voice honestly turned Sole on more than anything else he’d said so far. But they weren’t going to give in so easily. He wasn’t going to win them over with just the sound of his voice alone.

And as Sole returned to building the turret—realizing, along the way, they’d put more than one part in the wrong place because of being distracted by that irradiated idiot—that irradiated idiot took an audible breath, as if to calm down, and then said, “Alright, sunshine, I’mma go sleep it off. You have a good night and I hope you dream about me kissing every inch of your perfect body and sliding myself into you exactly the way you like. Or you into me, whatever floats your boat, love.” And with another crackle, he was gone. And Sole was left with their thoughts racing and heart pounding.

MacCready: Since RJ brought Duncan to the Commonwealth so that they could both have something at least resembling a real family again, as much as this world permitted it, one big problem arose: they couldn’t travel together anymore, not when one of them had to stay behind and take care of Duncan. That, in turn, brought a lot of late nights, staying up worrying about one another, tension, and eventually arguments. Sole knew these originally stemmed from love, but it was still so… So they decided to look for solutions. After two weeks they managed to modify a baby monitor to transmit both ways and link it to Sole’s Pip-Boy. That way they’d have contact with one another, and a way to send a distress call should anything go wrong at home. And then that bit Sole in the ass, too.

One day, early morning, Sole woke up at their camp they’d only set up in the first place because they wanted to make one more stop before returning back home—and also, it had been late when they were setting it up, and even though they were maybe half an hour away from home, they didn’t want to wake the boys just to have to leave the next morning again. So they made camp, went to sleep, and then woke up at, like, fucking dawn to RJ’s voice spewing crap through their Pip-Boy. At first they thought he was making sense, that maybe the house was under attack, but then RJ said, “The places I’d kiss you in… ’Cause I miss you and I need some masturbation material.”

He WHAT? Sole jerked up and began packing up the camp, at the same time teasing RJ on the line, “I wish I could be there, too, honey, tracing kisses down your firm chest…”

RJ moaned softly, “Oh, yes. I’d love to feel you close. Your hand down my pants…”

“Down your what? I’d have undressed you a long time ago. And tied you to the bed. I’d love to have you completely at my mercy.”

The groan he let out made Sole’s lips twist into a satisfied, vengeful smile. No one, and they meant it—NO ONE would be waking them up at dawn.

“Uhh… What about Duncan, though?” he asked, his voice somewhat shaky.

“I’d leave him with Dogmeat, lock the door… Dogmeat would let us know if Duncan was coming. Don’t you worry. I have it all thought out.”

“Mm. Please tell me you wouldn’t just tease me the entire time.”

“Of course not. First thing I’d do would be to push you all the way down my throat, as far as it would go.”

“Holy f…” he cleared his throat like that was going to help. Sole was now walking briskly with a huge grin on their face.

“And then I’d do you exactly the way you like. Except you wouldn’t be cumming until I let you. And there would be nothing you could do, tied up as you’d be. Mm, thinking about that body of yours splayed out on the bed. Just… yummy.”

“Oh, goodness, Sole. Please come home as soon as you can.”

“I will, love. I will.”

And barely a few minutes later, Sole rushed into the house and moved about as quietly as they could as to not wake Duncan up; they found RJ in the bedroom, hiding behind the bed with his head thrown back, dick in hand. And Sole just stood there above him with their hands propped up on their hips until RJ finally opened his eyes and saw them, immediatelly getting all flustered and embarrassed.

“Hey, b-but in my defense, look what you did to me!” he mumbled, the first fully coherent sentence in the full-minute-long babble.

“Yeah?” Sole shoves his hand down their pants. “Well, look what you did to me!”

Nick: When Sole told him about how they’d used to play with their spouse over the phone, Nick raised his brow and didn’t say anything. The topic never came up again. [[Like, let’s be real, he would SO not be up to it. Leave poor Nick alone.]]

Piper: Sole and Piper never talked about what Sole did with their spouse, how their life was before the war or any of that stuff. It was as if Piper filled in the blanks herself and correct or not, she was happy with it. As if it pained her less to work with those lies than have to listen to Sole’s life about someone else and then see that moment when they reach the end of the story and realize it’s never coming back. The moment when their tearful eyes close over a fake smile as they say, “But I have you now, Red. So it’s all good.” It’s never all good. So she preferred her stories.

But even so, whether it was by some bizarre coincidence or because she really did find out about it somehow, one day Piper did the exact same thing their spouse used to. One day, a messenger came up to Sole and handed them a sealed letter with their name on it. The shock of getting anything from a random caravan driver who had apparently recognised her easily but whom she’d never met before, and all that in the middle of nowhere in Capital Wasteland—that shock dissipated as they opened the makeshift envelope an found an actual love letter from Piper.

“My Beloved Sole,

I have never done something like this before. But these last few weeks when you’ve been gone have been hard. I can’t pretend you’re just around the corner anymore. I can’t imagine waking up next to you every morning. Last night I awoke from a nightmare which I could barely remember, but it was a dream of you never returning to me again. I’m scared. I know you’re not going to be back anytime soon, but if I were to receive a reply from you, even a short ‘I’m okay’ note, I’d sleep much better.

And I’m sorry for writing this, but I miss you. I can’t help it. I can’t even write a good article anymore, so you better get your shapely ass back here soon! My livelihood is on the line!

Speaking of that shapely ass… Ahh, nevermind. I just want you back. I want you next to me. I want to be able to kiss you and touch you, and be with you, and I swear on the Wall, when you return, I’m not letting you out of bed for AT LEAST a week. You’ll repay me in earnest for every minute I had to spend all alone, pressing my hand to my lips as to not let a sound out as I’d push the other down my… Or up. Depends on the perspective, I guess. And all of that thinking of you.

I need you. Get back soon and stay safe.

With love, Piper PS. If someone opens and reads it before it reaches you, I will be SO pissed.”

Sole raised their gaze from above the letters, hand at their own lips as they held back their tears. The caravaneers threw them a weird look from above the fire they all sat around, but didn’t say anything. Piper literally went to Goodneighbor and talked to Daisy, probably in exchange for some favors, to make sure this reached them. Sole ripped a piece of the paper and scribbled a short note before giving it back to the caravan driver, nearly begging him to take it back. The note said: “I’m fine. I love you, too. I promise I’ll be home soon.”

Preston: After the party where Sole literally almost boasted about what phones used to be and what use they made of them with their spouse, Preston was indignant for the rest of the evening. He couldn’t help being jealous. But even so, when they passed out like the adorable idiots they were, Preston was the one to gather them up from the floor and put them to bed. And when he stayed and looked at their sleeping face, so peaceful if not for the quite disturbing muttering, he just somehow wasn’t mad anymore.

“No, don’t touch me…” Sole muttered in their sleep. “Fuck off, whoever you are, there’s a man waiting for me at home…” Preston’s heart fell to his stomach again. But then… “No, his name is My Boyfriend… Now go away.” And Sole turned to the other side and slept soundlessly the rest of the night. When they awoke in the morning with a skull-splitting headache, the first thing they noticed was a glass of water on the nightstand. They gulped the entire thing down, spilling more than some on themselves before they realized there was also a note. It said, “Hey, Li’l Mama, whatcha got on?”

BONUS - Strong: [[Please, don’t. Steer clear. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.]]

I just have this vision in my head, like, a beheaded mole rat used as a crayon, the mask of a pre-war white car his canvas, and those red child-like letters spelling: “Strong like your butt”.

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