#Oh that gives me an idea for next week's entry
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Film Friday: Exhuma
As last week's edition of this little column succumbed to a bad case of the painbrain, I've taken steps to ensure this wouldn't happen again. This is to say I'm writing this thing ahead of time. Today, we'll be looking at a movie that combines two things I like a lot. Spooky scary hauntings with cultural relevance and procedural.
Exhuma is a Korean ghost story, and features a small entourage of spiritual experts, chiefly professional shaman Lee Hwa-rim, her assistant Yoon Bong-gil, Geomancer Kim Sang-deok and his business partner/might as well be regular partner, Burials Guy Go Yeong-geun. They're pulled together to solve an unusual problem, the spirit of a deceased grandfather coming to take his relations back to the world of the dead with him, which turns out to be the top layer of problems in a layered cake of historic and spiritual atrocities.
Exhuma is interesting in that it seems to cast the audience as the primary sceptic of the film. In a more typical ghost story there'd be some smart-aleck personal assistant or distant relative that needed to get the hows and whys of the spirit world, and probably tells the audience he doesn't believe in all that nonsense just to tell us the audience not to get attached as he is practically mincemeat already.
No, Exhuma has a very low-key approach to the supernatural. For the opening act of the movie, it's all shop talk. Hwa-Rim diagnoses the problem, Sang-Deok gets seriously bad vibes to the burial site, they come up with a shaman hack that theoretically could solve the problem but has never been field tested, and so on. The movie doesn't really exert itself to sell the supernatural stuff right away, but it clearly has a cinematographic sympathetic eye to the concept.
This isn't to say the movie holds back or tries to make things ambigious once the hauntings start, though. As soon as a freak rainshower postpones the planned cremation of the problem body and the whole spectral kit and caboodle gets unleashed from its former final resting space, the haunt is ON. A particular set of scares where the thoroughly pissed-off ghost goes to town on his family are simple but very effective, including a pretty fun phone-based scare that's basically all acting and timing, but WOW does it work.
Uncovering the true underlying source of spiritual problems, as these things often do, include digging around in some history some people would rather you'd forget. In Exhuma's case, the tale is connected to the notoriously brutal Japanese occupation of Korea and, by extension, some Japanese ghosts. It turns out they make the ghosts meaner over there, which if the ghost stories are any indication, might very well be true. It's one of those Act 3 escalations that makes both thematic and practical sense, but I personally would never have guessed at. I do find myself wondering if this spiritual occupation was an attempt at prolonging the Japanese soldier's reign of terror, or just a particularly wacky idea someone had. This might be one of those cultural ideas that I don't get, though.
Exhuma is an interesting take on the ghost story, and while it's not as scary as other, more explicit stories, it does serve up a delicious mix of spooks and specialists unwinding an elaborate and complicated mystery. Whenever I can get that without having to sympathize with a cop, I'm generally having a great time of things, and if you're anything like me on this you should give it a watch.
#film friday#horror film#Exhuma#korean horror#I didn't get into it in the text proper#but this movie is very good in the visuals department#beautifully lit shots#even when it's really dark#which is harder than you'd think#Oh that gives me an idea for next week's entry
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✎ baby to the rescue
- gojo satoru x reader
in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman
genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~
note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.
"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"
Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.
If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...
Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!
You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—
—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.
"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"
Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—
"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"
Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.
"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"
No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."
Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—
"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"
You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.
You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"
Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"
You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!
You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.
He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...
Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.
"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"
"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"
"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...
Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—
"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.
The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"
"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"
You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"
He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"
By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:
"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."
After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.
Epilogue
"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"
Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.
Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.
"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"
Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.
"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"
Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—
Whack!
It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.
"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader fluff#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo satoru imagines#dad!gojo#jjk gojo satoru#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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I saw this and thought of you
An Ah! Love one shot in which Jeonghan gets a little gift for Y/N.
Requested? Yes!
Genre: just a massive amount of fluff. I am so soft for this couple.
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: You definitely don’t have to read Ah! Love to enjoy this, but if you would like the full context, you can find it here. Fair warning, the word count got away from me a bit...
Jeonghan is in the bathroom brushing his teeth when he hears Y/N huff. It’s loud enough to be heard over the scrubbing of the tooth brush in his mouth and he peeks his head out. He hasn’t live with Y/N officially for very long, but it also didn’t take long to do so once finally getting together. He’d kind of already lived a lifetime just trying to figure out how to get here and he felt a ton of relief in being able to say that he’s in a shared bathroom, next to a shared bedroom, in a shared apartment. He liked sharing things with Y/N. Loved it even.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He says through the tooth paste, careful not to dribble any on his shirt since he’s already dressed for work.
Y/N is digging through her side of the closet, tossing shoes around. “Can’t find any shoes to wear with this.”
He dips into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth before stepping out and giving Y/N a once over (or maybe a few times over) and finally says, “Boots? It’s getting kind of cold, after all.”
“Eh,” Y/N groans. “You're right, but I have to be on my feet a lot today. They won’t be very comfortable.”
“Oh. Well, then just wear your chucks. They’ll look fine with that,” he reassures. He thinks she could pull off a trash bag, much less sneakers and dress clothes.
“Can’t,” Y/N laments. “They ripped last week. Badly.” She pulls out another pair of sneakers, though far less loved than the aforementioned chucks that she's in mourning for. “Will this look okay?”
He nods, because really, what’s the difference between one pair of black sneakers over another at the end of the day? Her expression tells him there is most certainly a difference. “That’s tragic,” he says genuinely. “We’ll need to get you another pair.”
“Oh, yeah. But maybe next month,” Y/N says. Money is not exactly free-flowing for two grad students working entry level jobs and trying to afford an apartment in a major city. They’ve made it work, but he knows she’s aggressively penny pinching and will probably continue to for the foreseeable future. “Anyway, they were like ten years old. An incredibly long life for a pair of shoes I wore nearly every day.”
“Chan will be devastated. He puked on those. They were special.”
Y/N bursts into giggles, pelting a pair of socks at him. “You have no idea how gross that was! Wonwoo and I both almost threw up ourselves as a result of trying to clean that up.”
Jeonghan giggles too, returning the socks and kissing her. “Oh, I have no doubt. I had to take care of him that night, remember? I pretended he didn't exist for a week afterwards.” One more kiss to her lips and he finally sighs. “Don’t be late, I’ll see you later.”
“Love you!”
His heart still races a little hearing her say that so freely like it's an old habit, but he really, genuinely doesn’t have time to run back and kiss her again, so he yells, “Love you too!” on the way out of the room. He'll make up for it by smothering her with affection when he gets home later.
~
A few weeks later, he meets Seungcheol for lunch. They both work around the block from each other and regularly meet like this, mostly as a way to avoid the awkward lunch conversation with coworkers in their respective break rooms. It's also becoming harder to coordinate time to hang out now that their worlds center around a pesky little thing called full-time employment. Thankful as he is for it, he misses his friends.
They’re walking back from lunch when they pass a store and something catches his eye in the window. Jeonghan stalls out and Seungcheol raises an eyebrow.
“Are you shopping for you?”
Jeonghan elbows him in the ribs. “No, dumbass. Who do you think it would be for?”
“I know, I’m just messing with you,” he admits with a smile. “Her birthday is coming up, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but… you know how she is about gifts,” Jeonghan trails off. Outside of a single gift exchange for Christmas last year, gifts are just not something that the two of them do. Some couples do all of the gifts - birthdays, major holidays, and just because. He doesn’t know if Y/N will ever be that kind of person, no matter how much he’d like to spoil her. It’s equally endearing and frustrating how non-materialistic she is.
Seungcheol’s shrugging. "You've mentioned it… but this one is functional. She’ll use the shit out of this.”
It’s like a lightbulb goes off above Jeonghan’s head. Seungcheol’s absolutely right and Jeonghan has no idea why he’s hesitated outside of this store for so long. “You won’t hear me say this often, but you’re right,” he tells his friend. “You can go on if you want, I’m going inside.”
Seungcheol waves him off, saying he needs to get back to the office anyway.
~
Y/N’s birthday dinner is chaotic. Somehow, everyone managed to make themselves available. Seokmin even came into town to visit specifically for this. This dinner is at the tail end of a particularly hellish week for Y/N in grad school - one filled with a few all-nighters and presentations - in addition to working her normal hours at her full-time job. Jeonghan can see she’s burnt the candle at both ends and she doesn’t want to say anything to ruin the celebration, but Jeonghan will. He makes an excuse that it’s his turn with the birthday girl and lets them take it however they want as he guides her out of the restaurant. He expects the group to go bar hopping anyway, something that he knows Y/N would bail on in a split second.
In the car, he buckles her in, patting her thigh lovingly. “You did good, baby,” he praises, knowing how reluctant she was to show up to her own birthday dinner. She loves her friends and would never dream of disappointing them, but loathes that kind of attention being on her.
Y/N gives him a weak smile, “Thanks. And thanks for the escape route, even if it was kind of suggestive.”
Jeonghan laughs. “It doesn’t have to be suggestive, but it could be. That’s up to the birthday girl.”
He helps her peel off her shoes at the door and they both change into pajamas, piling up on the couch. He knows this is how she really wanted to spend her birthday, so he puts on the show that they’ve been binging and lets her cuddle into his side.
“Hey,” he pats her thigh eventually to get her attention, but he ends up waking her. She blinks up at him sleepily. “I got you something, but you can’t be mad, okay?”
Y/N frowns. “Hannie, no. You know I don’t need anything.” Despite the protest, he’s getting up to pull a box from a hiding place in the hall closet.
“Open it. If you still think it’s unnecessary, I’ll return it,” he promises, placing the box in her lap. She sighs, resigned, and rips the wrapping paper, scoffing when she sees the logo on the box.
“Hannie, you didn’t have to do this. I would have gotten another pair myself eventually,” Y/N scolds, hands brushing across the top of the box of chucks.
“I know, but I beat you to it. Take a look,” Jeonghan gestures.
Y/N looks at him, perplexed. “Aren’t they just black?” She doesn’t really wait for an answer, curiosity getting the best of her. Her jaw drops and she pulls out a glittery pair of black chucks. “No way,” she starts in disbelief. “No way!” This one is a little choked and he watches as she tears up.
“I couldn’t help it. I saw it and thought of you. You know I’ll always feed both your chuck habit and your glitter habit.”
Y/N puts the shoe back in the box, hands covering her face as her shoulders shake a little bit. He wraps her up in a tight hug. “Is this a good cry or a bad cry?” He asks, mostly because this happens so rarely that he’s not sure. He can count on one hand the times that he’s seen her cry, and she’s usually quick about wiping her eyes and moving past it. He likes that she's tough like that, admires it even, but also likes that she'll let her guard down like this in front of him. Like he's a safe place.
“Good,” Y/N answers, voice jagged. “It’s nice. Thank you, Hannie. I like that you see me. Really see me, you know?”
Jeonghan does. He’s always felt that way about her. When he met her nearly a year and a half ago, he was totally unnerved by how she saw right through him, but now he loves it. He wants her to know that he’s trying to get her the same way she gets him.
“So, I don’t have to return them?” He asks with a hesitant smile, though he thinks he knows the answer already.
Y/N gives a watery laugh, wiping her eyes. “No, you don’t. I’ll keep these. You’ll never be able to take it from me.”
“At least not for another decade,” Jeonghan muses. “I’ll find you another pair then.” He hopes her heart is even half as full as his is.
#seventeen#svt#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#jeonghan#Yoon jeonghan#jeonghan x reader
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Katsuki Bakugou x Popular/MeanGirl!reader - oneshot about Katsuki loving his ruthless girlfriend!
Ok, the title is a little misleading, you're not that mean! you just do unto others what they do to you...and Katsuki loves it. As always, please let me know if you want more, and if you have any ideas for the future <3 calling this a songfic, because it's hugely based on Don't Touch! by Lil Mariko
warnings: lots of cursing, mentions of castration, and one chaotic good(?) reader
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When you first arrived at UA, a late entry as you lived in the Americas prior, everyone loved you, and surprisingly that included Bakugou. Of course, it took him a long time to warm up all the way, but you started dating after a few months of getting to know each other. What could he say? You were pretty, smart, patient with him, and best of all, you didn't take crap. He learned that the first week of your arrival, when his attempt to bully you fell short. You actually took a liking to him, so he was spared most of the passive aggressive fate he saw you give some others. You were just nice to people who were nice to you, ergo most considered you sweet as candy while some considered you a total bitch.
You were hot and you knew it, and believe it or not it caused a lot of people to spread rumors about you. He'll never forget the first time he saw you in action, it was as satisfying as it was attractive. While walking to lunch, a pair of 2nd years were standing to the side whispering and pointing to you. one of them yelled out, "slut," while the other laughed. You, being the bad bitch that you are, turned around, smiled pleasantly, and put on your best innocent demeanor. "aw, I'm really sorry for getting your dick hard, maybe next time try and keep your eyes a little higher, yeah?" It. Was. Magnificent. The two were flabbergasted to say the least, and Katsuki himself was glad to finally see someone who didn't act like a saint all the time.
Long story short, you were his other half, and he had gotten used to your mocking, sarcastic way of handling assholes...until the day of the Sports Festival. You and Katsuki were were perusing the food stands, you dragging him around from place to place, him trailing behind like the grump he was. One stand actually caught his eye, a sign claiming to have the spiciest sauce in the city to compliment their renowned Takoyaki. You were standing with him, looking around while holding his hand, when out of the corner of your eye you saw someone point towards you. You didn't turn your head, not wanting them to know you noticed, but kept an ear out to see what they were saying.
"yeah, he's the one I was telling you about."
"that guy? No way he's with a girl like her."
"I know, right? He has to be keeping her with him, probably scaring her into staying."
Oh hell no. You weren't going to let this slide, it was one thing to talk about you, but a whole other thing to talk about your relationship. You whipped around, yanking a very confused Katsuki with you. Katsuki had heard the two talking, but was far too enamored with the spicy sauce to actually listen. "Hey," You yelled, using a voice Katsuki hadn't heard out of you before as you raised the hand holding Katsuki's into the air for all to see. "See this?! This means he loves me, so next time you go and make assumptions, why don't you keep your damn mouth shut?!" You step closer to the pair of stunned teens, wearing a look that could kill. Your voice was low and menacing now, making sure they understood every syllable. "Next time I hear you talk shit about my boyfriend, I'll take the Louis Vuitton's He bought me, hunt you down, and castrate you."
The two whimpered, stuttering out a response but unable to finish before running off with their tails between their legs. You watched them dash, one hand on your hip and the other in Katsuki's, before turning to him with that same bubbly smile you always had. "Alright, let's go get ice cream, I'm still hungry!" He had this unreadable expression on his face, and when you tried to pull him to the ice cream he stood stock still. "...What...?" You were fearing the worst.
Were you too much for him? Did he realize he wanted someone nicer, like Ururaka or Momo? This time, he did dragging of his own, yanking you in the opposite direction. He pulled you along without another word, looking left to right, before stopping next to an empty vending stand. "Katsuki, what are you doing," You asked, he was worrying you.
He looked around again, making sure no one was watching, before yanking into the stand with him.
He never answered you with words, but the way he made out with you for the remainder of the Festival break kind of spoke for him. Right then, when you were threatening those extras, was the moment he realized he loved you. Actually, no. He already knew he loved you, despite the fact he never said it (yet). Right then was the moment he knew he'd marry you. You wouldn't know that story from his perspective until he told it at your wedding.
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hope you enjoyed, I had this story on my mind all last night and was just itching to write it! let me know if you want more of this!
#bakugou katsuki#fanfic#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo mha#mha bakugou#new to this#new to tumblr#mha
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It's just a walk for you?
Here's my entry for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial
I'll always hire humans on my crew, I'll tell you why.
A couple of cycles back, we were out past the Heights and the reactor failed. Some kind of overload, the engineers were chattering about it worried and finally pulled the lever and ejected it. It stopped us from being destroyed outright, but we had minimal power. Only what we could collect with our solar collectors, really. Lights, minimal environmental, things like that.
As luck would have it, we were stranded in a system with a "habitable" planet. It was much too heavy and chilly for most every sapient that I knew. Our human navigator loved it. Said it looked a lot like home. He also pointed out that it had a Community climate beacon on the surface, and that we could probably sent out a distress call from it.
Let me tell you, without a reactor, an atmospheric landing is not something you want to attempt. Still, we made it to the surface alive and mostly intact. The issue was we were still 150 kilometers from the beacon. We had no ground vehicle and it seemed like we were going to perish so close to rescue.
After lamenting our plight the human looked up in surprise. "Why are you so sad? It's only 150km. How much food and water do we have?"
"Only 4 days!"
"Oh? That's easy then. We'll just walk to it."
I looked at him like he had five heads. Nobody can walk 150km in 4 days. Still, he seemed determined to give it a try, and I had no other ideas. I told him that he could kill himself however he wanted and if he wanted to die of exposure on a strange planet it far be it from me to stop him.
He got up and rummaged around in the cargo hold and after about two demi-cycles came out with a repulse-litter and some kind of harness he made out of cargo straps. "Come on, it's big enough for everyone." and he gestured to the litter. He had even set up cushions!
By now, the crew had followed me to the cargo hold. "You can't pull this, its too big" were the majority of comments.
"Nah, it'll be fine, I've got the repulse-jets dialed in just right. It will be like wearing a light backpack. Come on, do you want to die for sure here or have a chance of survival? Look how far we've come! All we have to do is go 150 kilometers more and we can be saved!"
I put it to a vote. Of the 8 of us, 6 including the human decided to let him try and drag us to safety.
Early the next morning - ships time - we all climbed aboard. I have to say, he put the effort in. It really was comfortable to sit on the litter.
We set off.
Friends, I want to impress upon you how... easy he made it looked. demi-cycle after demi-cycle he pulled us, walking with that easy lope that all humans use when they're under gravity close to what they evolved under. He even started singing! Nobody knew the words - he said it was an old language that wasn't in the translators - but he was enjoying himself.
It was a sight to see. It really was like he was out for a fun walk around.
After the second day, someone finally got up the courage to ask him why he could do it.
"Do what, the walk? Oh, walking is not hard for humans. We evolved as persistence hunters. Our ancient ancestors would pick an animal and just jog after it until it died."
"What? What if you got tired?"
He grinned and showed his teeth. "The animal would tire first. As long as we kept the jog light and easy-" he gestured "-like we're doing it now, a human can keep it up a long time."
On the third day he kept it up. We'd pass him water and a ration bar when he asked, and occasionally he'd stop to nap for a few demi-cycles but honestly not that much. Most of the crew slept while he hauled to conserve energy. The planet was a good deal colder than what we preferred. He didn't mind though, wore a light jacket. He said that the exercise kept him warm.
Sure enough, on the morning of the 4th day, we made it to the climate beacon and our engineer was able to send out a distress call. We were picked up not even one day later, all thanks to our human navigator who hauled us all to safety.
So yeah, I will always hire a human on my crew.
#humans are deathworlders#humans are space orcs#flash fiction friday#humans are space oddities#humans are space capybaras#sci fi writing#humans are persistence hunters#writing#scifi writing#humans and aliens
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Bastian Bosse’s LiveJournal Activity (Part One)
On September 2nd, 2004, Bastian Bosse created his LiveJournal account. He posted to this account between September 2004 and August 2005, with his first entry being on September 2nd, 2004, and his last being on August 15th, 2005.
He posted his first entry on September 2nd, writing:
“So first, I have to try out how this works ...”
His entries during this time were about his airsoft guns and problems he was having at school, with him writing on September 8th:
“Well first of all, I got to class late, and they wrote me up. That’s especially good, when it happens on the first class with a new teacher! Well, it was only Religion ... the subject where they tell you such garbage that you like to go to class because it is so funny ... Our new topic: (for the third time) “Satanism / Occultism.” Oh man!
Then I rushed home after school and had to find out that my mom snooped around my stuff again a little ... Well, maybe they are just worried ...”
On March 7th 2005, he began posting again on his LiveJournal account, which he hadn’t posted to since September 15th, 2004. His post on this day mentioned being teased by his classmates, as he wrote:
“Other than that, really nothing spectacular happened during the week. I had to listen to the usual crap, like “Hey look! There is the Matrix-Man!” Looooooool, nitwits!”
On April 3rd, he wrote about ordering an MP5-SD6 airsoft machine gun online and not receiving the money on time:
“Then I ordered an MP5-SD6 AEG during break and told them that I would transfer the money on April 2nd . .. and what’s happening? The guy who is supposed to buy my old G36c is not coming, and now I don’t have the money .. . great!”
On May 15th, he wrote two entries, with one talking about his attitude to life:
“The longer I think about life, the more I realize how senseless it actually is ... Somebody is born, has a good life for 6 years, but then gets enrolled in school. Then unconsciously, he has to make a decision; do I stay the way I am or do I conform to the others? To be more precise, do I remain strong or do I become my own traitor?”
And the other mentioned a girl called Nadine:
“There is no progress with Nadine . . . I blame this sick HipHop Music that all the kids listen to . . . you have to go crazy and only talk shit. I HATE EVERYTHING!!! What’s up with all that shit??? Did I come to this damn world to be the idiot next door, my whole life? What should I do here? What are all of us supposed to do here?”
He wrote on May 16th:
“I am thinking about just dropping out of school next year, so I don’t have to see their faces anymore, so I don’t have to hear their voices anymore. No idea, if I should do that . . .”
He also responded to an online friend of his that commented:
“is it really that bad at your school? mhm, yeah, I was also glad when I was allowed to leave...”
“Indirectly. The fact that I am older than those in my class makes things significantly easier, in other words, it is not like it was in my old class, in which I was humiliated. But those people are all such complete morons; either over the top clowns or blowhard potheads, who consider themselves the greatest.”
His entries throughout May discussed his growing collection of airsoft guns. However in this period he also bought a Colt pistol, which he was able to test on May 18th:
"Then I was finally able to test my Colt, was a little lame, but nice ;) Other than that, nothing happened."
On May 23rd he wrote:
“Tomorrow is the 24th, Tuesday .. . and what will happen? NOTHING!!! I hate it, I hate to always be everybody’s dimwit. I hate to always be portrayed as a dork. I hate to always be the individual who seems unnecessary, but I hate it even more when people try to betray me . .. LH !!! Who do you think you are? What do you think you can get away with? Who gives you the right to breathe my air?”
“I am done with the world, I feel outcasted by it and hope for change. But how do we define such change? Or even more important: What am I doing here?”
His entries from this point forward would become a lot longer and discussed his thoughts on life, his guns, and his views on people at his school.
[End of Part One]
I'm doing this in two parts, otherwise this post would get stupidly long and a bit boring, both for me to write and for everyone else to read.
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DVD Commentary: Under Lock and Key
@callivich invited me to share behind-the-scenes commentary from a fic. I hope you dig this deep dive into Under Lock and Key!
Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc) I wrote it in 2021. I posted a chapter a week, and I was actually writing those chapters each week as I went along. 15 weeks of their life = 15 weeks of my life.
What was the initial inspiration for your story? I have general non-specific angst about college. It feels like an earworm, a time in my life where so many things were unfulfilled or unresolved. So many roads not taken. I needed to write something to put those thoughts to rest.
If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character? I alternated Ian's and Mickey's POV, because I love seeing both of their sides. That also helps increase the tension, because you can leave one person's thoughts on hold while you go see what the other person is doing.
What was your favorite scene to write? Any of the scenes in chapters 5-8, the simmering time before they actually get together. I love to write their push and pull.
How did you come up with the title? Because hair metal rules.
Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story? The story started as a college radio station, where Mickey was a shock jock and Ian was a new volunteer. It would be told via journals that Ian wrote for one of his classes.
I wrote a couple of Ian's journal entries, but nothing was gelling. Once I changed the setting to the lost keys office, the story took off.
Initial ideas, original opening, the day I decided to switch the setting.
Oh, by the way, I usually handwrite everything.
If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this? This is the sweetest story I had ever written. I had always tried to write compelling plots before, things with adventure and intrigue. For this one, I wanted no villains, hardly any angst, just two people falling in love.
Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story? So, so many.
The original chapters from the radio station.
That night after the mid-semester party, I had about 5,000 more words of them making their way back to Ian's dorm.
I had more descriptions of Mickey being completely into the Chicago music scene.
I outlined an epilogue from 10 years in the future.
Would you ever write a sequel to this story? I do have that epilogue outlined. Not sure if it'll ever see the light of day!
Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc? There aren't references to my other stories. I had only published one fic before that. But, man oh man, are there references to my college experience.
The lost keys office was the most fascinating place on my campus. It lived in the basement of the next dorm over. I never needed it, but many people I knew did.
Mickey is based on my friend Sam, who I spent late nights with in the architecture building. He hated every guy I had a crush on and wasn't afraid to tell me. We climbed on yellow steel-beam sculptures, stole signage from the parking garage, scaled buildings and sat in windowsills, talked about music, and harassed each other endlessly. It was one of those "lightning in a bottle" friendships.
Trey Kanahele is based on Gordon, who lost his keys so many times, usually while in the shower. He made it a point to walk across campus in his towel, with his long black hair flowing.
Hannah is based on Leslie, the coolest girl I met in Moore Hall my freshman year.
"Charlotte" and "Clemson" were my top two picks for colleges.
Dr. Neal is based on my current friend Jayme, who is a forensic nursing professor and takes her students to Africa in the summers.
The bulletin board, the grounds of the school, the fire drills in your pajamas, the dining hall, the crazy late-night games, the challenges of registering for classes, the meetings with advisors … all of it is plucked from experience.
If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity? This one has the most hits of any of my stories. I'm surprised that it's the one that people keep coming back to. I've written a bunch more since then, but this one has staying power.
Were you nervous or excited to post this story? I'm nervous to post everything. Even now.
Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote? No, I'm stubbornly beta-less.
Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story? I make my own merch for the stories I write. Here's me in actual college and me today re-imagining college through a Gallavich lens.
This is open to all writers! Pick your favorite story you’ve written or your most popular or the one you think deserves some more love! Or ask your followers to suggest their favorite fic of yours!
And hey, if there's another story of mine you want to hear about, I can share more!
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Familiarity
A/N: guys sometimes I just have ideas that MUST be shared with the class
Okay guys I'm going to paint a picture for you all and I need you to stay with me
It's summer break in those two weeks where the boys actually have free time right
And it's after a really spectacular 23-24 season (please Lord my knees are bruised from begging)
Because of how close everyone has gotten, the pretty boys (aka Gavi, Pedri, Ferran, Fermin, Joao, etc) all are vacationing together for a couple of days
Because ya know
Hot single champions league winners (Lord I'm looking at you again)
They're just ready to have a good time being hot and young
As Ariana said, it feels so good to be so young and have this fun and be successful
So they go to Ibiza (ofc)
And they're just out just making the lives of the PR team hell
Shirtless pics on the Insta story every day
Yacht, club, another club, another club, pass out in a luxury hotel
Wake up and repeat
And one night they go to ushuaia
That club that everyone and their mothers went to this year
Gavi, Ferran, George Russel, Daniel Ricciardo
Just really expensive and hip and fun place to listen to music and get turnt
But ofc they're not like paying entry to get in
Oh no, they've been invited as part of an event with, as Pedri so eloquently put, some magazine
Did they care who was paying for their liquor? Absolutely not
So they're all there in pressed shirts with the top two buttons undone (whores)
And having a great time watching girls fall over themselves to come talk to them or get a spot at their table
And then Gavi, trying to remedy the onset of his social anxiety, looks over to the next table and sees you sitting there looking like a slice of heaven
Short black Mugler dress (you know the one with all the see-through paneling? Yeah.)
Heels giving your legs a sculpt and your ass a lift that was borderline illegal in his opinion
And you were just leaned over the table sipping on your drink and swaying by yourself to the music
So Pablito decides that, since you're already in the VIP section, he really can only fall upwards by flirting with you a bit
At least it would be better than whatever Tiktoker Pedri pulled
So he walks over and introduces himself, pushing his glasses further back on his head so you could get a proper look at his face
And our boy is charming and cute and you're ready to have a good time in Ibiza, so you reciprocate
And y'all are just talking and laughing it up and he already has your number to "see you again"
But you're starting to think the "again" is going to be 60 minutes from now in his hotel suite
So now you're both on the same side of the table, his arm is around your waist, fingers dangerously close to your ass
And every time you want to say something, you're getting closer than necessary to his neck and ear and just letting your lips "accidentally" brush across.
And then the rest of F.C. Pretty Boy walks over to interrupt the moment because of course they had to
Professor Pedri had reminded the gang "hot girls have hot friends"
And now Gavi, who was playing with the exposed skin of your thigh, was introducing you to the other wildly famous teammates.
And that's when it happened
It was surprisingly Fermin who finally said "you look really familiar"
And that's when 5 pairs of eyes started to examine you more intensely
Pedri agreed, unable to place you
Gavi knew he had seen you on Instagram before, but didn't want to come across as weird
Ferran was the bravest, asking the question that the others were thinking
"Are you a model?"
"Um, yeah, I guess I'm a model."
The redness in your cheeks and the giggle at the end of the statement had all their eyebrows raised.
"So you're an Instagram model then?" Gavi followed up
"Careful, that's Pedri's type"
The resounding laughter almost drowned out the speakers
"No, I do print as well. I work with brands and stuff but I'm mainly a shoot model. You know, magazines and stuff."
They boys all sent praises your way, exclaiming how they knew you were too hot for just Instagram.
"Pedri here is also a model. His friends over at Men's Health got us in." Gavi smiled widely with his attempt to embarrass his older friend
"Oh, I saw that cover! All of my friends sent it in the groupchat."
Wolf whistles for Pedri and palpable jealously across the group. The other four made mental notes to get a camera and some baby oil asap.
"And what about you, Gavi? When are we going to see you on the cover?"
"Ah, maybe if they get us into another event with you, I'll consider it."
You laughed louder than the generic line deserved, but you were ready to fall to the floor chuckling and snorting to go home with this boy.
"Ah, that might be possible actually. Men's Health is owned by Hearst, and they just bought our magazine. They actually invited me and the girls out tonight."
"Wait, which magazine?" You had been staring at Gavi and didn't place who asked the question
"Um, a men's magazine, you might have heard of it. Do you guys know Playboy?"
Everyone went silent all at once at the realization
So that's why you looked so familiar
"I'd offer you all free subscriptions but it looks like you guys are already avid readers." Your teasing made all of them go red in the ears.
"Is Gavi even old enough to buy a Playboy?"
Despite being a valid question from Fermin, he received a smack on the arm as a response.
"Wait, you also did a campaign for that lingerie brand right? The Rihanna one?" Gavi asked, face brighter than the red lights at the club
"Yeah, back in December! I wore their 'Naughty' line."
Gavi then went off in a tangent, explaining that's where he knew you from (and that maybe he followed the Playboy instagram on his private account)
As the two of you walked off, there was still a tension between the other four
"So..." It was Joao that started
"You guys are jerking off with magazines like we're in the 80s?"
"Hey! Playboy also have a porn channel!" Pedri responded angrily before taking in what he had said.
"So you've been watching her in action and didn't recognize..."
"Okay listen I'm not usually looking at her face!"
Ferran slumped against the table
"All of us out and Gavi picks up a fucking pornstar. He lost his virginity last week and now he's going to fuck a Playboy bunny."
"Guys, did you not hear the part where she said she was here with other girls?" Fermin reminded the group
In conclusion, I would give anything to lock these five in the Playboy mansion for a day. The end.
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JTTW Discord Summer Contest Entry: South Seas Sojourn
AO3 Mirror
-In collaboration with the amazing @ejaysstuff, who did the art!
-I'd say "This is mostly me nerding out about folklore", except that sums up all my recent one-shots.
-An LMK fanfic about Wukong going on a vacation, set between S3 and S4.
---
"I'm going on a vacation!"
Before anyone in the noodle shop could let out a groan or a cry of "Again?!", Sun Wukong immediately added, "And you are coming too, MK. I ain't leaving my disciple out of the fun, not after, well, everything."
"But it's okay to leave me out of the fun?" Mei sulked, as she tried to make the tea inside her cup rise up, yet only created a little ripple.
"Hey, I'm not the one who signed you up for that internship at your uncle's place." Sun Wukong said. "But maybe we can drop by once we are done! Take a break from the heat in the cool air of the North Sea."
"Yeah, the nice, cool, sub-zero-degree air of the arctic zone..." Mei sighed. "Don't wanna beat on that dead horse, but I'm so, so sick of icy stuff."
"Aw, bummers. Guess you won't be a fan of my new tea recipe, then." Sandy poked his head out from inside the kitchen. MK could hear ice cubes clinking inside a glass, and so did Mei, since she perked up within seconds and looked like she was on the verge of backflipping over the counter.
"Sandy, Sandy my man, I'll never not be a fan of your tea recipe!"
"Uh, where are we even going?" MK asked, in between the sound of icy lemon tea being slurped through a twisty straw. "Don't get me wrong, I'm super duper up to it! But Mr. Tang had been complaining non-stop on MeChat about Pigsy's decision to drag him to Chang'e's virtual concert during summer break, where every major tourist spot is packed with kids. I hope we are going somewhere...quieter, that's all."
"Oh, no worries. It won't be deserted, but it ain't gonna be nearly as crowded." Sun Wukong paused, striking a pose. "We are going to the South Seas, bud!"
"...Where?" MK and Mei asked in unison, drowning out Sandy's faint "Wait, like, Guanyin's place?".
"Out south. In the oceans. Duh."
"That explains nothi——"
"And no, my big blue friend, I won't be knocking on her doors at Potaloka unless someone needs saving! She's gonna be real busy in the next few weeks anyways." Sun Wukong continued. "For you less geographically gifted kids: it's where Lion City and Betel City are. Ring any bells?"
Mei made an "Oooo" noise. "You mean the place with the mermaid lion? Man, I was so disappointed when I found out it wasn't a real critter working for the South Sea Dragons."
"I still have no idea what you are talking about!"
"Ah well, MK, you'll be finding out soon enough." Sun Wukong said. "So go give your Dadsy a holler, and start packing up! We'll be leaving next week or the week after that, depending on when Nezha gets off work." A pause. "Yeah, he's coming too."
...
"We aren't really going on a vacation, are we?" MK asked, as he dragged his luggage up the creaky wooden walkway near the Megapolis harbor beach.
Dangit, who knew that mosquito repellent and sunscreen could weigh so much? (Tang and Pigsy were very adamant about the importance of taking enough of these, once they heard the news over MeChat.)
"What makes you think that?" Sun Wukong replied, swishing his tail at the daring seagulls who kept trying to peck it.
"Well, last time you said you were going on a vacation, you weren't really telling the truth." MK let out a nervous chuckle. "And Nezha's coming too. I don't know him all that well, but he doesn't sound like the kind of guy who'll, uh, join in on the fun just because?"
"Yeah. Sorry again, MK," he sighed. "But you are half-right. It's not a complete vacation, and more of a vacation-slash-summer school, slash-free exposure therapy..."
"What was that last part?"
"Nothing!" Sun Wukong exclaimed cheerfully. "Basically, you are gonna learn how to be a god, MK."
"I——WHAT?!"
"Relax, bud! It's not as serious as you think." A pause. "How do I put it...hmm, it's like being a hero, but more down-to-earth. Where, instead of people asking you to save them from big bad demons, they are asking you to solve their personal problems."
"Like?"
"Win lottery tickets. And discipline their kids for them."
"Speak for yourself."
A familiar voice echoed through the evening air. The next second, in a blaze of pink fire, the Third Lotus Prince was standing tall on his wheels, his sash flowing in the wind.
"Oooh, what did I just hear? Good ol' Brother Nezha, Electro-Techno Third Prince, The Other God You Go To For Lottery Tickets, acting all uppity and serious!" Sun Wukong stuck his tongue out at the new arrival. "Nice entrance, by the way. Very flashy."
"You know very well I don't answer every desperate addict who doesn't know when to quit, nor do I play games of chance for fun! I play them to win!" Nezha retorted. "Also, thanks for the compliment, Great Sage."
"You are welcome, Laodi."
"Are we really going on a vacation to...help people gamble?" MK nervously raised a hand. "Isn't that, like, against the law?"
"Goodness, what have you been telling your disciple before my arrival? No, what have you left out?" Nezha groaned. "Well, since your mentor clearly hasn't explained our goals properly, I suppose I'll have to substitute for him. Again."
"Hey! Professor Sun is getting to it, Teaching Assistant Nezha——"
"In the next week, we shall be visiting and staying in multiple cities of the South Seas. Now that my true body isn't guarding the Samadhi Fire, I can finally start answering the more tricky prayers," Nezha sighed, "Which will only continue to pile up, since the Seventh Month is imminent."
"Seventh Month?" MK asked, reaching into his pocket with one hand. "But it's August the third already! Lemme check the calendar again..."
"Lunar Seventh Month. Also known as the Ghost Month." Nezha shot a look at Sun Wukong, his expression a mix between annoyance and slight concern. "Someone has picked a great time and place to take his student on a trip."
"What could I say? It sure is less depressing than Qingming nowadays. And they won't fine you for burning paper effigies in the South Seas, or so I've heard!"
"I…no matter." Nezha's look softened a bit, but not by much. "Back to what I was saying. Once the gates of the Underworld open, all the spirits will come out, go visit their families, enjoy the offerings as much as they can under the watch of Dashi Ye, Lady Guanyin's ghostly manifestation."
"We'll be assisting him, much like my brother and all the local gods. Keeping order, giving directions, and all that. In between these shifts, I’ll finally get to perform my duties in my actual physical body instead of the youthful manifestations mortals expect to see, and your mentor is free to monkey around with you and his worshippers at his own temples. All clear?"
"So we are gonna be, like, tour guides and security, but for dead people?" MK asked. "That doesn't…sound too bad, actually! Also, you have a brother, Nezha?"
"No, I pop out of a rock, just like your master." Nezha said flatly, then added, "Goodness, I wish. Muzha can be a bit much, but he's a lot more bearable while on the job, so no worries."
"Someone's getting jealous again, I see," Sun Wukong reached over to pat him on the head, and received an annoyed glare. "Oh, and don't let Nezha's sour attitude fool you, MK. We are still on a vacation, it ain't gonna be all work and no play! And the work won't start until several days later, so we'll have plenty of time."
…
This didn't seem like a great start for our vacation, MK thought.
Okay, it did, for about three minutes, after they got off the somersault cloud.
The palm trees were swaying in the wind, the two-story buildings with red-tiled roofs were glowing under the tropical sun, and Nezha reluctantly glamoured a lotus-patterned T-shirt and some baggy pants over his armor after rejecting Sun Wukong's more outlandish suggestions ("You should totally change your wheels into flaming flip-flops!"). Not a single dangerous, vacation-ruining, world-destroying threat in sight.
Then a giant rain cloud appeared out of nowhere, driving most of the crowd indoors and leaving the unfortunate ones seeking shelter under the nearest rooftops and bus stations.
Not that it helped much——MK felt like he was standing behind the waterfall at Flower Fruit Mountain again, as raindrops slammed into the ground with a fury and created splashes of watery mists.
"Okay, Nezha, Did you anger the local dragons again?" Sun Wukong asked, holding the monkey-hair-turned-umbrella over MK's head.
"Nonsense! Not even the East Sea ones hold a grudge for this long, and I've never seen a South Sea dragon other than their king," Nezha said, then added, "and my brother's co-worker. Are you sure you have a temple nearby?"
"Eh, maybe. I saw a bunch of faith beacons up there, all clustered together." Sun Wukong shrugged. "Some of these have to be mine."
"Have to be yours? Oh, that's rich, coming from someone who hasn't visited the South Seas in person since the 19th century——"
"And they still love me, bud. Deal with it."
"Um, what's a faith beacon?" MK wiped the water droplets off his phone screen with one thumb, trying and failing to steer his luggage away from the puddles. "I'm not seeing any on CloudMap."
"Well, you won't, unless you are a patron god of IT workers or some other technology-related stuff!" Sun Wukong said. "How do I put it, hmmm…after people have prayed to you for a while, offered enough incense, you can just sense the places they are doing it at. Usually, it looks like a beam or a glowy aura, but some gods can smell or hear it too."
"Wow, that's so cool! It's like a mystical VR goggle. Is it something you can learn, though?"
"Look, I'm glad that you are doing your job as a mentor, but can we please get some actual directions?" Nezha sighed. "Temples here aren't always their own separate buildings. I've been summoned inside too many HDB flats to count, and you won't know that by looking at the beacons alone."
"We are heading in that direction right now. It'll get clearer once I get closer to the place. So be patient, will ya'?"
"Well, isn't that just the most reassuring answer I've ever heard. 'We'll get there when we get there'." Nezha muttered, as the group took a turn into a narrow side street, ducking below the swaying lanterns and multilingual shop signs. "Just so you know, if the rain doesn't stop and we don't get there in two hours, I'm dragging both of you onto a bus and to my temple instead."
"Why, you three sound like you are lost! Need a tour guide?"
Abruptly, a high-pitched, child-like voice resounded through the torrential rain, coming out of the alleyway to their left. MK turned to look at the speaker—
—and stared straight into the lifeless glowing eyes of a chalk-faced monstrosity, its red tongue hanging out of its mouth.
With a scream, his staff was out, and in a split second, connected with the thing's head and sent it flying into the nearest wall. It slid off the yellowed concrete, landed with a splash, then went completely still.
A spiderweb crack was spreading across its porcelain mask——Oh goodness, it's a puppet, which was somehow even worse.
"Ah. The answer is 'No', it seems."
He nearly extended the staff and hit the puppet again when it spoke, had Sun Wukong not dashed forth and, in one swift motion, dragged a pale specter out of it by the robe collar.
"Glad to see you again, Xiao Xie!" He grinned in a rather dangerous way, like what Mr. Tang said non-intelligent monkeys really meant when they bore their teeth. "Is there any particular reason why you are jumpscaring my student in broad daylight, or do you just have nothing better to do?"
"Yes, because this one knows it will happen!" The specter, still in Sun Wukong's grip, said in a cheerfully oblivious voice. “The vision caught this one by surprise too. It's not every day that you see the Great Sage's golden staff approaching your face at lethal speed, especially when you have done nothing to offend him. Good thing this one did not come in his contractor's body!"
Behind them, Nezha let out a groan. "Oh joy, it's these two clowns again."
"W-W-What the heck just happened?! And what's THAT?" MK pointed at the specter. Outside of that creepy puppet, it just looked like a lanky, unnaturally pale youth in an oversized mandarin jacket and a tall hat.
Before Nezha could answer, another sullen voice cut him off.
"You knew you'd get smacked in the face if you came, so naturally, you possessed the creepiest vessel you could find and headed straight in this direction." The air suddenly got a lot colder. "I don't need precognition to know you deserve to be smacked at this point."
The water in a nearby puddle rippled. Okay, technically, it never stopped rippling because of the rain, but this one was a lot bigger, as if something was about to crawl out.
MK took a step back. Seconds later, the murky water turned inky black, rising up into the air and coalescing into the form of a short, stern-faced kid, wearing the same clothings as the pale specter, except they were all black-colored.
"Darn right, Lao—" Sun Wukong paused, as he turned and took a closer look at the newcomer. "Xiao Fan? Huh, didn't expect to see this you here. Not that I'm complaining."
"I'm absolutely complaining." The kid replied. "Our main souls have been attending one meeting after another at Fengdu since the Ivory Lady Incident, which is why I'm currently on," He shot a pointed look at his ghostly companion, "babysitting duty. You gonna smack him or not? Cause I won't mind if you do, Great Sage."
"Aww, really, Xiao Fan? You, of all people, should know that everything this one sees will happen, even if he doesn't know how or why. Since trying to avoid a future is the best way to unknowingly make it come true, this one can only try to soften the impacts and minimize the risks."
"By making sure you would, one-hundred-percent, get hit in the face by someone?" Fan snorted. "Way to go, brother."
"By making sure that staff wasn't slamming into this one's soul, or a flesh-and-blood vessel!" Xie replied. "And the mission is a success! Only a single puppet is harmed."
Nezha threw his hands up in the air. "How did you manage to be even more annoying and nonsensical than your main soul?"
"Welcome to my fucking un-life." Fan mumbled.
"Um, hello?" MK waved awkwardly. "Have you guys suddenly started speaking in some sort of secret code mid-conversation, cause I don't understand a single word you just said."
"Gosh! Sorry, bud," Sun Wukong finally let go of Xie's collars (now that MK thought about it, how did you even grab a ghost's collars? Mystic Monkey Magic at play again?) "Get a bit carried away there."
He pointed at the two specters. "Meet the Heibai Wuchang. The ghost cops, or rather, parts of them. Remember your hair clones? Xiao Xie and Xiao Fan here are kinda like that, but with their souls."
"T-The ghost cops?" MK squirmed. The downpour had become a light drizzle, but he still felt chilly, and it wasn't because his T-shirt sleeves and socks were now soaked. "Like…the ones you see when you are about to die?"
"Don't worry, bud! They aren't here to take any of us away. I think." Sun Wukong narrowed his eyes slightly, "and even if they were, I'd like to see them try."
"Nah. Not a chance. This one still values his un-life—"
"Yeah? Then apologizing to my student and stop wandering around in that thing will be a good start!"
"—so yes, he is very sorry for the distress he caused, young one. The 'wandering around in possessed objects' part, though, is perfectly legal, and this one still has to take the puppet back to his temple, so sorry, no can do."
"You have a temple now?" Sun Wukong let out a chuckle of disbelief. "You two?"
"You really haven't been around here in a while, have you, Great Sage?" Nezha said. "Yes, unfortunately. It's a new South Seas trend, and I hope it stays where it is."
"Our main altar here is still inside the City God's temple. But there are more temples dedicated to us alone, across the strait." Fan said. "And I'm obligated to inform you that all deities who visit the South Seas in their true bodies instead of using clones or astral projections must notify the local City God's temple beforehand, or submit the relevant paperwork immediately after arrival."
"Hmm, and if I don't?" Sun Wukong raised an eyebrow. "What are you gonna do?"
"Other than following you around and staring at you judgmentally? Nothing substantial." Fan said, before sighing deeply. "But if you can at least pretend to respect us and not treat Underworld officials like the complete pushovers we are, we'd really appreciate it."
Sun Wukong hollered at that. "Y'know what? I think I'll do just that, since this you are a lot cuter and not a raging jerk!"
"You know my main soul can hear you, right?"
"Exactly." Sun Wukong grinned. Unlike a few minutes ago, it was a lot less tense. "So lead the way, Xiao Fan!"
…
When MK heard the whole…ghost temple thing, he was expecting skeletons, eerie lighting, spooky stuff.
Okay, some of the statues and puppets were still creepy. Same for the possessions.
Sure, the ghost cops had explained that they had human "contractors" who'd let them possess their bodies willingly, after signing a lengthy form where all the risks and duties are spelled out clearly.
But when he thought of possessions, the only images that came to mind was LBD's host, shaking like she was in the middle of winter again despite sitting inside the safe, cozy confines of Pigsy's Noodles. And Sun Wukong's golden eyes glowing frost blue, devoid of all warmth and emotions.
Well, better get used to it now. Gonna see a lot more ghosts once the…summer school part of the vacation-slash-summer school starts.
MK took a deep breath and began to make his way back through the corridors, a small incense burner in hand. The exterior of the temple was dated and slightly out of place, sitting beneath towering skyscrapers and surrounded by neatly trimmed park lawn.
Past the main hall and the altar room behind it, however, the place could be mistaken for any modern office building. Or the background of a Monkey Cop episode, except the cops were all ghosts and the monkey was filling in the divine equivalent of a customs form.
"There, done." Sun Wukong said, putting the pen down, "Right in the nick of time! For real, though, couldn't you ghosts just burn the paperwork together with the rest of the effigies?"
"And get them stuck beneath a mountain of sports cars, or whatever insane vehicles people decide to send to their ancestors nowadays? No thanks."
As he handed the incense burner over to Sun Wukong, who crumpled the form into a ball and tossed it inside, MK caught a glimpse of a dark blue aura, enveloping the handle of the back door before it opened on its own. Two more uniformed ghosts hovered in, telekinetically carrying multiple pitched paper objects.
"Speak of the devil…" Fan turned towards his partner, who was leaning leisurely against a wall. "This year's bunch are already coming in, and if you bothered working with a contractor today, you better put that physical body to good use and start helping!"
"Alright, alright, This one hears you." Xie yawned, then walked over and grabbed the floating effigies. "Hmmm, no helicopters or private jets this year? That's a bit disappointing."
"Well, Mr. Chow sent a pretty big table, boss. We don't think it's gonna fit through the backdoor, so we left it in the park pavilion."
"Excuse me?" MK perked up. At last, a chance to do something instead of just standing there and watching awkwardly. "Do you need something resized? Cause I have just the power for that!"
…
"Y'know, I was wondering what's so special about a table," Sun Wukong poked his head out from behind the door frame, trying very hard to suppress the giggles, "or why they'd make a live-sized one in the first place. Now I get it."
"Kudos for dedication, I guess?" MK shrugged. "I'm sure their loved ones would, uh, appreciate the gift down there."
With a snap of his fingers, the paper Mahjong table returned to its original size, drastically reducing the remaining space inside the storage room.
Yeah, the "craft" part of "Arts & Crafts" wasn't really his strong suit, but a piece this detailed and lovingly crafted? It probably took weeks to make. And cost more than an actual Mahjong table.
"Are you two done admiring the beauty of that absurd object? Can we please leave and go somewhere else now?" Nezha's muffled complaint came from the corridors. “It's raining outside again, and if we don't hurry——"
"Even if you do hurry, this one doubts you will be able to get any further than the bus stop, in the two minutes it shall take for the drizzle to become a downpour once more." Xie said, then tossed the last stack of golden joss paper into the storage room.
"Great! Wonderful! Yeah, I'm just looking forward to spending more time with you and your clowns-in-training." Nezha snarked. "How will we ever get anywhere in life without your nifty short-term prophecies?"
"Hey hey, Nezha, chill out. A dash of salt is good n' all, but you are getting spicy over there." Sun Wukong said. "But, speaking of ways to pass the time during a rainy day…"
There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he turned to look at Xie. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Judging by what this one just saw? Yes."
"Great! Come here, bud, I have something that will make our stay a lot less boring."
Sun Wukong beckoned MK over, back into the big guest room, then pulled out a tuft of hair. Seconds later, an actual Mahjong table landed squarely on the floor with a thud, complete with chairs and Mahjong sets, followed by an "Ohoho, lovely!" and two simultaneous shouts.
"Seriously? Don't set a bad example for your student!"
"Don't you dare corrupt our guests, Xiao Xie!"
"Please, this one is just joining in on the fun. Our guests have no problem 'corrupting' themselves, so to speak!"
"Oh, c'mon, it's not gambling if you aren't betting actual money!” Sun Wukong exclaimed. "It's like poker, but…for old people. Right, MK?"
"Um, one problem: I don't know how to play Mahjong! Or poker!" MK said, scratching his head. "The only card game I know is Uno."
"Great! You can just learn it on the fly, then, under the watchful eyes of Professor Sun and Teaching Assistant Nezha!"
"No way, Great Sage. I'm not helping you lure your student astray into a potential lifetime of wasted hours and petty vices."
"Really?" Sun Wukong flashed a taunting smile. "I bet you only said that 'cause you don't wanna lose too badly to me. Again."
"Oh, you take that back right now, monkey!" Nezha jabbed a finger at him. "If we were back in the old days and in a gambling house, you'd be going home in nothing but your undershirt and breeches by the end of the day!"
MK did not miss the implication that, at some point in the past, these two had indeed been to an actual gambling house.
"A bold challenge if I've ever heard one!" Sun Wukong's grin widened. "Or is your bark worse than your bite? Brag all you like, but the only way to prove it is to get on the table yourself."
"I——Screw this, I'm in," Nezha took a deep breath, “But only because it will be quite satisfying, kicking the collective behinds of the two most annoying gods I've ever met." A glare at Sun Wukong, then, at Xie. "So. Get. Ready."
"That's the Third Prince I know!" Sun Wukong gave him a thumbs-up. "Bring it on, lad!"
MK gulped. "Yeah, sorry, I think I'm just gonna watch you guys play first. Get a feel of the game before jumping in. Is that alright?"
"No prob. Though this did put us in the most classic bind in the entire history of Mahjong…" Sun Wukong paused dramatically. "The 'Short of a Fourth' problem."
"That won't be me." Fan immediately said, before walking through the nearest wall. "Still have a job to do." He turned, poking his head out of the wall once more. "But by all means, teach Xiao Xie a lesson for me."
"Ah well." Sun Wukong shrugged, reaching towards his head. "Guess this calls for my clone——"
"No!" Nezha smacked his hand away. "That's just blatant cheating!"
"But literal future vision isn't?"
"Hey, it's not like this one can turn it off." Xie protested. He looked like he wanted to say something else, before Sun Wukong stood up, dashing out of the door and towards the altar room.
"Guys! We are one person short of a Mahjong game here!" A pause. "Niang Niang? Ah Pek? Datuk? Hello? Anyone up to it?"
"...What's he doing?"
"The divine equivalent of spamming telephone calls." Nezha rolled his eyes. "Yelling into the ears of every deity's idol he can find, and hoping for a response."
"For your knowledge, we have a three-people variant of the game here," Xie added, unhelpfully.
…
Way after Sun Wukong had returned, sulking a little but soon jumped right into arguing with Nezha, MK heard a chime.
Like someone had just dropped a bunch of coins onto a marble floor, but…louder. Okay, he wasn't too sure about that last part, because if the others heard it too, they did not react to the noise at all.
"It's still not gambling! Just a way to keep the score, yanno?" Sun Wukong continued, tossing a tangerine back and forth between his hands——one he probably pinched from a random altar table on his way back. "Also, the game will be pretty boring if you aren't winning something."
"That's the very definition of gambling." Nezha said, with a deadpan expression. "Wagering money or other stakes in a game of chance."
"It's only a stake if it's something of value, and outside of sentimental ones, these offerings have none." Sun Wukong turned to Xie. "Otherwise you won't give them away to folks for free before they spoil, right?"
"Indeed, for we've already eaten them."
MK squinted at the fruit; not a single bite mark or patch of peeled skin was found on its exterior.
"Ewww." Sun Wukong grimaced. "Anyways, that just makes them even less valuable and further proves my point."
"Is that supposed to be convincing? Because I'm not taking home a bunch of ghost-eaten fruits even if you give them to me for free——"
"Greetings," someone cleared their throat, then said in a deep, magnetic voice, "Is it you who invited this Zhao to your humble temple for a game, friends?"
The door curtain jingled; in walked a dark-faced man with an impressively bushy beard, clad in gilded black armor and red-gold robes. The only thing that didn't make him as intimidating as he should was the black tiger cub, clinging onto his shoulder pauldron like an oversized housecat.
"Yep, Lao Zhao!" Sun Wukong cheered, "Didn't think you'd have the time, but here you are!" He winked at MK, "Now, ya' ever seen a God of Wealth statue in your Dadsy's store? If you did: this is your guy in the flesh, Zhao Gongming himself."
"Oh yeah! The statue," MK tried his best to recall something that looked like the man, yet the only thing that came to mind was the adorable and totally dissimilar one on the counter. "You mean he's..the cat?"
"Ha! I like your little disciple, Great Sage." Zhao Gongming laughed. "Sadly, no. The only feline here is my steed, Biandan Hua." He pointed to the tiger cub. "In her baby form, so I don't get animal control called on me again. Mortals these days are so easily startled, I swear."
"Aww, that's the cutest name I ever heard." Sun Wukong cooed, earning an unimpressed look from the tiger. "Anyways, since we have our fourth guy here, without further ado, let's begin——"
"A second. I'm here for business too. Serious business," he held up a hand. "Have any of you seen a golden scissor? It's about this size, but becomes a lot bigger when transformed," a gesture, "about the size of a city block. Ah, and it can turn into two flood dragons."
"Nope!"
"Hmm. This one doesn't think so."
"The Golden Dragon Shears?" Nezha’s eyes widened. "How did you lose *that*, Marshal Zhao?!"
"I didn't! It's probably my youngest sister again. Bixiao is still rummaging through our study, so I may as well check in the Lower Realms while she's at it." He said. "Make sure no one has 'borrowed' it without their permission."
"Why are y'all looking at me?"
Awkward silence ensued, broken immediately by Sun Wukong's indignant huff.
"Okay, first, I'm insulted by your insinuations! You eat a few peaches, and suddenly you are THE suspect whenever something goes missing up there." He shook his head. "Second, you have sisters, Lao Zhao? Huh, never know that."
"Well, unless you are planning to have kids in the immediate future, Great Sage, your paths are unlikely to cross!" Zhao Gongming laughed, before resuming his frown. "Our scissors are far from the only missing treasure, though. Other palaces have also reported similar cases over the last hour. I'll just have to go shake down Spirit Official Ma again——wouldn't be the first time that little candlewick bugger tried to pin his thefts on someone else."
At the mention of Spirit Official Ma, Nezha mouthed something that sounded suspiciously like a swear word. Sun Wukong made a face.
"Yeah, show that Huaguang brat who's boss! But before that, surely you still have time for a Mahjong game? It'll only be a minute up there."
"Hmm, I suppose it won't hurt." Zhao Gongming replied, twirling his beard. "But with one condition: no one uses their godly powers."
"Define 'godly powers'?"
"Anything that requires intent to activate." Zhao Gongming said. "Your golden vision, active divination instead of passive, uncontrollable foresights, my power over fortune..."
A sigh. "I've played enough games where that is allowed. With my disciples it always turns into a teaching session, and playing against my fellow gods of wealth feels more like a power-measuring contest than a true match of skills, especially when Bi Gan was involved." He shook his head. "For a scholarly god of wealth, the old man can be more competitive than us martial ones."
"I feel ya', Lao Zhao. It's always the old geezers who play dirty."
"Hello? Excuse me?" Nezha asked. "Am I the only one who's more concerned about the missing treasure of mass destruction than the silly Mahjong game?!"
"Yes, yes you are." Sun Wukong smirked. "It's just a tiny scissor! What mass destruction can it cause, other than to Art & Crafts materials?"
"Says the blissfully ignorant monkey who has never seen it in action," Nezha retorted, then lowered his head with a defeated look. "Whatever. I don't care anymore. Just don't mention me when the Celestial Host starts pointing fingers and your sisters come knocking, Marshal Zhao."
"You have my words, Third Prince." Zhao Gongming made a fist-and-palm salute, almost jokingly. "For I'm not one to tattle, even if it means enduring Yunxiao's scolding alone. Now, what are the stakes for this game?"
…
After a brief discussion, the four had settled on using some unopened and unoffered snacks as their stakes. Which still didn't beat the gambling allegations, according to Nezha.
Well, it was better than betting all your belongings on a rigged game and losing them all, at least. And after watching a few rounds of their play, MK's only thought was Dang, if that goldfish demon chose this game back then, he wouldn't even need to cheat to wipe the floor with me.
"You know, if someone tells me I'll be watching the Great Sage, two celestial gods, and a ghost play Mahjong like old people at a community center during the first day of our vacation..." MK mumbled to himself, "I'll probably believe it, actually."
Despite having only the vaguest idea of the rules——whoever completed a set of certain tiles first won the game——and not getting any closer to understanding them, he was determined to keep watching.
If only because Sun Wukong winked at him right before tossing the dice and starting the round, and he was pretty sure it meant "Watch and learn, bud!" in a way that suggested the message went beyond a simple Mahjong game.
"What you are seeing now is not a typical day for most of us, if that makes you feel less disillusioned." Fan said, without looking up from the documents he was flipping through.
A while ago, the ghost had returned with a stack of them, and the papers were now floating around him in a ring, suspended by the dark blue glow of telekinesis. If that wasn't the most stylish way of doing paperworks, MK didn’t know what was.
"Uh, but I'm not?" MK said. "It's just…a lot less serious than I thought, this whole 'gods' business, and honestly, I'm not complaining! The Great Sage looks like he’s having a good time too."
Back on the table, Sun Wukong and Nezha yelled "Pong!" at the same time, then immediately glared at each other.
"Hey, I said that first!"
"That doesn’t matter, because you are cheating!" Nezha huffed. "It is impossible for two players to Pong at the same time unless someone has sneaked an extra tile in there while shuffling them, and we all know who that is."
"Well yeah, but I'm just evening the odds in a rigged game, Laodi." Sun Wukong said, eyeing Xie sharply. "For the sake of fairness, I'll allow you to cheat back too. How 'bout that?"
"Good grief, and I thought Master Taiyi was the most unabashed cheater I ever met on the table." Nezha took a deep breath and announced, "New battle objective: show the two cheaters who's boss, without lowering myself to their level."
"Well, this one can't blame the Great Sage for it. Two more turns, and he’ll claim the first win."
"Keep your visions to yourself, ghost!"
"Thanks a lot, Xiao Xie." Sun Wukong grinned. "That gives me even more reason to do it."
A few more turns, a few more clacks, and the monkey was left staring wordlessly at the table.
"Hey, what the heck! Your vision isn't right."
"This one's vision is always right. That, however, isn't one." Xie gave them an innocent look. "It's just the time-honored tactic of 'lying', friend."
"Serve you right for trusting him and cheating." Nezha snorted, before reaching out to claim the discarded tile.
"Why, ya' little——!"
"Credit where credit's due, that sure is a more entertaining use of precognition than the average Dipper Mansion chess game." Zhao Gongming commented, amidst the chaos. "I look forward to what you will bring to the table next, budding little wealth god."
"More bullshit, that's what he'll bring." Fan crossed his arms. "And he wonders why I don't play chess with him anymore."
"Well, I guess it could be worse." MK said. "They could be playing Monopoly."
"What's a Mono-poly?"
"A game that ruins friendships and turns family members against each other. Mei tried introducing her cousins to that during a New Year gathering." MK shuddered. "Some of them still won't talk to her."
"Sounds like it needs to be exorcized." Fan said, without a single hint that he was joking.
"Please don't."
MK kind of got the impression that he was the "by-the-book" cop of their buddy cop pair, who sounded serious whether he meant it or not, but maybe the kiddy soul would take things just that literally.
Sadly, his clarification ended up killing the conversation. For the next few moments, they just sat side-by-side, listening to the clacking of Mahjong tiles.
And the clacking had intensified, as the game picked up speed. Sun Wukong in particular was speeding up into a blur, fidgeting in his chair, using only one hand to move the tiles while juggling the same poor tangerine with the other.
Now, he was always in motion, gesturing as he talked, grabbing something or the other wherever they went. But the fidgeting had intensified to a point well beyond what MK was used to, which was making him fidgety too.
After a loud "Would you please stop that?" from Nezha, MK finally mustered enough courage to half-prod at Fan——and immediately drew his hand back! Wow, ghosts are freezing to the touch.
(Okay, he wasn't really touching anything solid, but it felt like reaching into a pocket of sub-zero-degree air, made even more jarring by the heat of summer.)
"Sorry sir, one question." MK asked. "I don't really have a good grip on the rules yet, but is the Great Sage in trouble now? Like, is he losing?"
"No idea. I'm not bored enough to watch and guess their sets." Fan said. "But if you are talking about his hyperactivity, that's not a result of panic."
"Then what’s he doing?"
"He's teaching you how to fight someone with precognition."
"By…acting like a wind-up toy?"
"On the surface level, yes." He answered. "How much do you know about divination?"
To pain.
No, not that one. MK shook his head wildly. "Next to nothing, I guess."
"Good. You aren't losing out on much." Fan said, before frowning. "I'd rather know less about it, but Xiao Xie just has to be an insufferable prick, so here we are. Essentially, think of Fate like a game of cards, or Mahjong, or whatever game of chance of your liking."
MK chuckled. The idea of Fate being a Uno game was quite a funny one, not gonna lie, if only because he'd get to figuratively shout "Reverse!" at someone.
"The Way is the ruleset, what is allowed and not allowed to happen. The winning and losing conditions. The cards and tiles are the individual events and outcomes, happening to a being as they draw them, one by one."
"To the Dipper Mansion celestials in charge of Fate, divination is like having your master's golden eyes and fiery vision. They can see through the cards and tiles, know what's on them instinctively, and are thus banned from playing, only able to shuffle and deal them out on the Celestial Host's orders."
Zhao Gongming's tiger, having jumped off its master's shoulder long ago, pawed at Sun Wukong's twitching tail. This only egged the monkey on, as they promptly began a game of 'catch my tail if you can' off the table.
"For some," he looked at Nezha, his face a mask of intense concentration, "it isn't so much divination as making snap-second, highly accurate guesses, aided by superb memorization skills. To the more unfortunate mortals, however, it's like seeing recordings of multiple games playing side-by-side, with no way of knowing which one is theirs."
"Lucky for my sworn brother and almost no one else, he can see snippets of a single recording, which just happens to be ours." Fan said. "It's also random, very short-reaching, and makes the part of his soul that bears the brunt of it into a kooky brat with no self-preservation instincts. But I've complained enough. Now that you know how his precognition works, what will you do to counter it?"
"Does not playing the game count?"
"A wise choice. But suppose you don't get to choose."
"I, uh." Think, smartie kid, think! What is the relationship between ultra-hyperactive monkey behavior and beating a ghost with future vision on the Mahjong table? (Oh geez, it's like that one question about ravens and writing desks in that foreign children's book again…)
"I guess I'll make myself, well, unpredictable and even more random?" He finally said, hesitantly.
"Not very specific, but you get the gist of it." Fan nodded. "Going back to my analogy, your master knows his opponent is making a random draw too, except each card he draws allows him to see others claiming or discarding a certain tile."
"So he decides to add more useless cards into the pool. False maneuvers, feints," Fan pointed to the tiger, still pawing at Sun Wukong’s tail, "Artificially creating another game on the side to divert the visions. Nothing can be a hundred percent predictable, not even literal future vision, and if only my partner realized that, he'd be a lot less annoying and not on the way to getting absolutely destroyed in this game."
"Wow. That's very clever and all, but should you really be telling me this?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I don't know much about the Underworld, outside of how Monkey King wrecked the place and scribbled him and his monkeys' name off the Book of Life and Death——" MK waved nervously, "No hard feelings 'bout that, ey? But if the Great Sage is teaching me how to counter you guys, does that mean you'll be going after us at some point in the future?"
"Technically, we'll be going after everyone who isn't an immortal or formally ranked celestial, sooner or later." Fan said. "Your master is firmly in the first category, and for you, that won't be in a long, long time, if it eases your worries."
"Yeah, no. Not at all. Thanks."
"You don't like ghosts very much, do you." He said, then, before MK could reply, added, "Which is fine. We don't like ourselves either."
"Uhhhh, don't be?" Oh gosh, was there really a way to word this without offending ghosts more? "It's not like I dislike you guys! Like, you and the other ghost cops seem pretty chill. It's just, y'know, a bit freaky, seeing the walking reminder of my inevitable mortality and all, ahahaha…"
"It is. And I won't tell you what to feel about that." Fan held up a finger, and the documents he had been reading were instantly sorted into neat little stacks in midair. "But if there is one thing you remember from our conversation, let it be this: no game lasts forever."
"One has to end in order for another to begin, and a game where no one wins or loses is gonna be a very boring one. We, officials of the Ten Courts, are but the keepers of scores, and you don't have to win in order to have fun while it lasts."
"Hu le." Zhao Gongming's calm voice cut through the chit-chat, followed by a light thud of him pushing the tiles over. "Four Kongs."
All eyes were immediately on him.
"By Buddha, Lao Zhao! No wonder you've been so quiet."
"Ugh!" Nezha facepalmed. "I was so close!" He shot a half-hearted glare at Sun Wukong. "This is all your fault, by the way. Without the extra tiles you snuck in there, he'd have never gotten such a rare combination."
"C'mon, maybe he's just that lucky?"
"Very enlightening." Xie hummed, handing over the bag of peach-flavored chips to Zhao. "This one knows he won't be winning the first round, but its certainly a great start!"
"And this is why you don't gamble with a literal, formally ranked, celestial god of wealth." Fan said, after a long, stunned silence. "Even when he isn't actively using his influence, for fairness's sake."
"He's not?"
"If he did, he'd just win every round, and there wouldn't be a game to speak of."
…
They stopped playing when the rain stopped, at which point the sun had already disappeared below the horizon. Zhao Gongming left halfway after getting an astral call from his sisters, shaking his head, giving MK the chance to finally join in.
Sun Wukong had stopped cheating after that——at least not as blatantly, if Nezha's words were to be believed. To MK, he just settled back into his old laid back attitude, which, in turn, made his own palms less sweaty as he faced off against the other two.
He still lost, badly, only barely managing a win at the very end. Not that it mattered, since Nezha had soundly kicked everyone's butts like he wanted, coming out at the top by a wide margin of three bags of chips and a single Tau Sar Piah.
"Let this be your lesson, Monkie Kid," he said, with a hint of childish glee, "That hard work, knowledge of statistics, and memorization skills will always triumph over luck and a bunch of cheating clowns."
"Ah well. I'll let you have your moment, Laodi, since it's pretty much the only fight you can win against me." Sun Wukong responded with a cheeky smile, then tore open his bag of chips and started munching loudly on them.
"Yes, keep telling yourself that. Maybe you'll actually start believing in it." Nezha smirked, before standing up from his chair. "I'll just be over here, basking in the glow of victory and trying to not run into my brother on the way back——"
As if on cue, a shout came from outside.
"GREETINGS! This Hui An pays his respect to the City God and his attendants!"
"Annnnnd there goes my good mood." Nezha muttered. A formation started glowing under his feet. "Goodbye. If anyone asks, I've never been here."
Almost immediately after he disappeared in a blaze of pink fire, the speaker outside with the loud, booming, megaphone-against-your-ears voice marched through the doorway.
"Oh. Hi there, Muzha."
"HI THERE, as the younger generation says these days!" The tall man replied cheerfully. The dangling green ties on his hair bun were swaying back and forth, as he made a bow.
"Heard you yelling into Lady Guanyin's statue a while ago, Great Sage, so I decided to pay a visit. Is my brother here too? Longnü said she saw you two flying together, while weaving the storm clouds with her kins."
"Well, in Nezha's exact words, 'If anyone asks, I've never been here'." Sun Wukong shrugged. "So no, he is not here."
"Ah. Embarrassed, I see!" He exclaimed, making his way to the Mahjong table and staring down at the tiles. "He really shouldn't be, though. By my religious vows, I'm supposed to refrain from such worldly pass-times, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be preachy about it!"
Now MK was starting to have an idea of what "Too much" meant. Namely, his complete lack of volume control.
"Well, looks like I've dropped by at a rather inopportune time, so I won't keep you fellows any longer, Great Sage. Thanks for keeping my little brother company, though——"
His sight met MK's, and only then did Muzha seem to notice his presence. "And DEAR ME! Is that your new disciple I've heard so much about? A pleasure to meet you too, young one!"
He reached out for a handshake. MK made the mistake of taking it, and immediately winced.
"Oww, owww——Nice to meet you too?!"
"Please stop crashing my disciple's hand, Muzha."
"Sorry, sorry!" He laughed, releasing his iron grip at last. "It's just so wonderful to see the juniors coming into their own, I get a bit carried away. Still, this acolyte looks forward to working with you in the days to come!"
"Man, we are busy here today, aren't we?" Xie commented, just as the overly cheerful and loud immortal made a turn and headed for the backdoor. "So many visitors. Not that this one is complaining."
"...Yeah." MK agreed, after awkwardly waving Muzha goodbye.
Well, one thing was certain: godhood internship or not, he'd sure have one hell of a story to tell once he got back home.
#lego monkie kid#lmk fanfic#lmk fanfiction#lmk sun wukong#lmk mk#lmk nezha#original characters#lmk ocs#contest entry#the author has never played mahjong before#jttw discord summer contest#muzha
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Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #7—and showing no signs of stopping. It doesn't help that my writing pace has been relatively slow and scattered last month and this one, so I'm covering less of the narrative in a month than I used to. We'll see if November is more chill.
The fic is now 53k, and I've just started Chapter 09. The story is only approaching the halfway mark, and Gojou has yet to show up—next chapter or the one after though!
This week's entry features Tōji and Yuuji, with a little bit of sleeping!Megumi. It's my first time actually writing Tōji, and I gotta say, it's fun. Didn't mean for him to come across...like that, but well. It fits.
Enjoy?
“Fushiguro! Fushiguro, open up! Fushiguro—” Yuuji’s fists meet empty air instead of solid wood, and he pitches forward, right into a slab of rock—that yields ever so slightly, more suffocating than bruising. “Mmmph?”
“Pinkie,” drawls a distinctive voice. “You lost down there or just having fun?”
Yuuji detaches himself from Fushiguro Tōji’s overly generous chest, staring up and blinking till the world makes a little more sense. A narrow-eyed stare greets him. The scarred corner of that mouth is quirked up, but it’s not clear if it’s a smirk or a frown or some biting combination of both.
“Sorry,” Yuuji gasps, a few seconds too late to salvage his dignity. He backs up too, almost tripping down the front steps in his hurry to get away from Fushiguro’s dad’s sheer bulk. “Didn’t mean to—sorry for the ruckus, it’s just—Fushiguro?”
A dark eyebrow rises sharply. “That sure is me.”
“No, I mean—not you, Fushiguro-san, I meant—”
“I know who you want, kid,” Fushiguro’s dad says, stepping back from the door and turning away, leaving it open in what’s the closest to permission Yuuji’s ever gotten from this man. He steps inside, shutting the door behind him. “What’s the fuss anyway? You two have a little lover’s spat?”
“…We’re not dating, Fushiguro-san.”
“Fucker’s spat then.”
Yuuji breathes in and breathes out the urge to slam his head into the closest wall. “We’re not…doing that either.”
“Kids these days.” He scoffs. “Too damn slow about everything.”
Yuuji opens his mouth and closes it without saying a single word. He’s pretty sure the guy’s just fucking with him. Or fucking with Fushiguro, more like. He’s the one who always gets all red-faced and worked up when his dad starts on this. Yuuji usually finds it funny, at least after he got over the initial burst of panic-infused confusion at someone like this man thinking he was trying to woo his son, but today, he’s—
“Is Fushiguro home? I mean, Megumi—” Yuuji makes a face, the name tasting wrong on his tongue—not overly familiar, no, just not allowed.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Fushiguro’s dad tells him, with a rumble in his throat that’s a little too mean to be just amusement. “Just call me Tōji, it’s fine. Family names ain’t all that anyway. But kid, you’ll be grey in the grave before that stuffy brat gives you permission to use his pretty little name. You just gotta take what you want from the likes of him.”
“I—” He’s got no idea what to say to that. He’s not sure he wants to learn. “Is he here?”
Fushiguro’s dad—Tōji, which is weird but somehow not as weird as saying Megumi—drops heavily onto the touch, picking up the remote and gesturing upward with it. “In his room.”
“Oh. He wasn’t picking up his phone.”
“So you decided to, what, run here?” Tōji slants him a sideways glance, scanning Yuuji from head to toe, and he looks immeasurably bored with everything and anything, but Yuuji still feels skewered through, suddenly hyperaware of the clothes sticking to his skin with sweat and the hair plastered to his forehead. It’s not the running that turned him into a sweat factory, but the real reason is worse. “Needy much?”
“No, I…” There’s a wild urge to really explain—everything Yuuji saw, everything he didn’t. But he clings to what’s left of his sense and chokes it down. “I was just worried.”
Tōji looks away with a rough huff of breath, shaking his head while flipping through channels. “Sure. He’s sleeping, not rejecting you or whatever overdramatic bullshit you built up in your horny teenage head.”
“Sleeping?” Yuuji asks, looking at the dusty clock hanging on the wall even though he’s got a damn good idea what hour it is. “It’s three in the afternoon. Fushiguro hates napping.”
“Does he?” Tōji asks disinterestedly. “Go wake him up then.”
“I can do that?”
“Do whatever you want, kid. I’m not going to hold your dick for you. Just don’t get too frisky. The little shit sleeps with a knife.”
Tōji sounds such an unsettling mixture of irritated and impressed that Yuuji backs away toward the stairs in sheer self-defense, turning around halfway and speedwalking the rest of the distance, bounding up the stairs with a lot less care than he usually takes, and he’s at Fushiguro’s door in seconds, grabbing the knob and pushing it open before he can think it through—or think at all.
The door opens soundlessly, revealing the familiar confines of Fushiguro’s room.
There’s a boy-sized lump on the bed, buried under a thick duvet. The window’s open, but the curtains have been pulled shut, drenching the room in dark blue light. They billow out as if greeting Yuuji, settling slowly back down as the breeze dies out.
Fushiguro doesn’t stir.
Yuuji creeps closer, all his urgency pulling back under his skin to writhe there. No matter what Tōji said, Yuuji doesn’t really want to wake Fushiguro. He just has to see him.
He just needs to make sure he’s okay.
Yuuji stops in the middle of the room, still a few steps away from the bed. He’s close enough to see Fushiguro’s face and even the shape of his body under the covers. He looks…fine. Healthy, unharmed. He’s breathing deeply, and his face looks different than it usually does, but that’s always the case when he’s asleep, all those stubborn frowns and furrows falling away to turn its lines into something softer and sweeter.
And there’s no real expression on Fushiguro’s face right now, but it’s almost funny how this lack of expression is so different from the inhuman blankness that bore into Yuuji from those church pews. Fushiguro’s eyes are closed right now, but Yuuji knows in his bones that, if he pried those eyes open, it’d be blue-green fire that glares out at him, not that horrible darkness.
His legs almost buckle as pure relief floods him.
Yuuji backs away instead, anything but steady. He’s still careful to be quiet, even when he finds the half-open door without looking away from Fushiguro and steps back out of the room.
He can’t bring himself to close the door and deny himself the view of Fushiguro’s sleeping body.
That’s creepy, right? Not as bad as whatever Tōji thinks Yuuji plans to do to his son, but that’s a low bar. He shouldn’t be standing around staring at his sleeping friend, even from a distance.
It’s just—
Yuuji doesn’t remember.
The last time Yuuji saw Fushiguro, it was at the church, and Sukuna was holding them both—Yuuji in his arms, Fushiguro under his fucked-up spell. And that’s the last thing Yuuji remembers of the church. Standing there with Sukuna while his worldview shattered into splinters, each one drawing blood. He thinks the hands around his neck tightened, but he doesn’t remember suffocating.
Only darkness—and then light, the sun streaming in through his own bedroom windows.
He’d wanted it to be a dream so badly.
But he knew it wasn’t, even before the bruises made themselves known.
He lost hours. Nanami wasn’t in the house, but there was breakfast cold on the table. Yuuji didn’t take a single bite, but he’ll apologize for that later. At least Nanami wasn’t around to hear Yuuji curse that church and the monster there, his voice and his panic growing louder with every text and call that went unanswered, and he didn’t see Yuuji tear out of that house like the hounds of hell were at his heels.
Maybe it’s a miracle Tōji let him inside at all. Kugisaki’s grandma sure wouldn’t have.
But Fushiguro’s here. He looks like himself. He’s…not safe, probably, but he’s whole and alive. And that tight, thorny knot in the center of Yuuji’s chest won’t really fade until he talks to Fushiguro and makes sure it’s really his friend, all inside, but he doesn’t want to wake him up for that.
In case it’s vacant black eyes that flash open to greet him, in case—
No. That won’t happen. Yuuji won’t let it happen, even if he has to march back to that church and tear Fushiguro out of Sukuna’s belly himself.
He finally closes the door, staggering back to slump against the opposite wall. His heart is somewhere in his throat, not pounding away so much as clogging his airways. Every breath tastes like congealed blood.
It’s no phantom flavor.
Yuuji can feel it in his own blood—the rot, waiting.
Is that what Sukuna did to Fushiguro? Pry open his mouth, pour in the filth.
#itadori yuuji#fushiguro tōji#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#wip wednesday#jjk snippets#my fic#divider credit: saradika-graphics#fic: mouth of the wolf
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Eazy-Duz-It // Logan Howlett x Reader
PT 4
a/n ok last of spam post as of 11/22/24 ('merican notation)
this chapter genuinely took me so long to write, writers block is so real
"Ok!" I clapped my hands to begin, "Since it's our first lesson, I think we should get to know what kind of music you like!" The kid in front of me was scrawny, grumpy, overall uninterested. Ororo told me the only reason why he signed up is because she asked. Guess the kid has a crush on her.
"I don't really listen to music." he remarked listlessly. He hunched in his chair like he was rivaling the guy from that Notre dame movie. It was hard to keep my eye from twitching. I have NO idea what I'm doing.
"That's ok! Yeah, that's, yeah, totally fine. I, uh, actually put together a list of a few songs that I think matches your--uh--vibe!" I grabbed the folder on the piano bench to my right, opened it and grabbed a semi-crumpled piece of paper out of it. "I had seen you in the halls a few times, Oror--I mean, Storm, Miss Ororo, Miss Storm? --anyways, she pointed you out to me and, well, just look at it." I put out the piece of paper to him and he grabs it limply. His eyes rack over the small list and looks back at me unimpressed. "Oh! Right, right, you don't listen to music, so obviously you wouldn't know most if not all of these songs. That's ok! We can listen to them on my speaker and that can be our lesson for the day. And maybe next time we can figure out if you'd like to play an instrument, which one, or if you'd like to sing." I take the piece of paper back from him. I stand up to go to the piano where a small speaker is perched on the top. I que a few of the songs and we started to listen. He slouched down further and crossed his arms.
Dark Entries (Bauhaus)
The kid emanates a punk attitude. Ororo had mentioned he barely listened in class, didn't participate in exercises unless he wanted to, and he talks back to Charles Xavier. Maybe music that'll get him to stomp around and move will be what he needs.
As the chorus came on, I saw his foot start to tap to the beat, or at least what he thought was the beat. I could see the slight movement of his head rocking. I think I might've clocked what he'll like. I played a few more songs until our 50 minutes was up. I gave him the list again and told him to explore different artists within the same genre. He seemed excited to see me next week.
I lean on the door frame, watching him walk away. His head bopped a little bit, I could feel that his heart was still beating at the same bpm as the last song we listened to. It honestly made me happy to see. Maybe this faux-"music therapy" was going to work. Before I turned back into my little classroom, I heard a gruff voice call out to me.
"Hey, teach," Logan lounged down the hallway, quickly making it over to me in a few strides, "I see you got Jacob to sign up?" he smirked, clearly knowing the kind of kid he was.
"I wish, Ororo did, actually. I think the kid has a thing for her," I scoffed with a smile. Logan leaned against the wall next to the side of the frame I was against. "Not busy?"
"Nah, sometimes you gotta ditch your own class." he shrugged. This guy, I tell ya. "I forgot you got put down here. All good?"
"Yeah, thanks for asking. I didn't think you were the type to check on the noobie." I pushed his shoulder slightly. It was odd, though. The first impression I got from him is that he didn't give a damn about anything or anyone. Maybe Jean Grey, if my eyes are working properly.
"Eh, well, I thought I'd be charitable, for once." he shrugged, "I was told I need to be 'nicer'" he put in quotes, his eyes roll under his furrowed eyebrows. All in jest, I think.
"Mm, that's sweet," I say, "Got some more time on your hands?"
He raises an eyebrow at me, "Why?"
"I just thought maybe you'd wanna listen to some music with me. I don't have any other students today, literally only one signed up. Maybe you'll be more motivated to work after." I shrug. I try not to let my nerves get the better of me. Asking Logan to basically hang out was not something I was expecting to come out of my mouth, but something in me wants to spend more time with him. Something in me makes me want to get to know him better, maybe even help him. Also, if students know that I'm buddies with the big bad Logan, they'll want to sign up for lessons with me!
Logan looked at me suspiciously. I purse my lips in a thin line with wide eyes waiting for him to answer. "I don't really listen to music, kid, hate to break it to ya."
"Literally no one here does," I push off the frame with an eyeroll. It's getting frustrating how none of these people want to even try to get into something new, "Well, I'm going to practice piano, or something. Have fun at-- well, at whatever you do," I still give him a smile before I retreat back into my room. He gives a grunt in response when I close the door. I plop down on the piano bench and sigh.
Being in this mansion was starting to get suffocating. And being in this little room with one window felt worse than that stupid shipping container. Worse than anything that fucking "RainTec" did to me. I don't understand why no one has come to talk to me about, or even to see if I'm ok. I am, but it'd still be nice to be asked. I hope I'm not always going to be useless and invisible here. I'm hidden in the farthest corner on the highest floor of this place. It's a wonder why Logan was up here in the first place. Maybe he goes on walks or something, I don't know. He's a weird guy, nothing he does would surprise me, honestly. Well, except if he started acting like Ororo or Kitty.
I sat at the piano for a while; for how long, I don't know, I don't have a clock. My speaker pinged and a muffled voice came out of it asking me to go down to the Professors office. I think it might've been Jean who hacked into my speaker. After another second, I get up begrudgingly. Sitting in my wallows was more appealing, ignoring this would be stupid, though. Besides, it's probably something important. I quickly make my way down to the first floor where Charles' office is located. I open the door to a few people around his desk, looks like I'm the last to the party. Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Logan were the people I recognized. There was another young man, he was blue with a tail and sharp teeth.
"Y/n, I'm happy you could join us on such short notice. I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Charles Xavier greeted. He's always nice to me. Skeptically, he might be a little too nice. "I know you haven't had any training, but the x-men would be at benefit of your knowledge and abilities for this mission." he began to explain, "You wouldn't be put on the battlefield, you'd be conducting behind the scenes work from the jet." he smiled.
"Uhm, ok? What is this mission even about?" I asked.
"My apologies, I forgot you weren't here when I went over it with the other x-men. We've found a base of RainTec's that we have records of you being held there recently. We've gotten reports of mutant's captive there, the mission is to help them escape and bring the base down in the process." he finished. The Professor didn't seemed bother in the slightest by my connection to RainTec, not even by the fact that I was also held captive there recently. But, despite that, this could be a good opportunity to prove myself useful. Maybe by helping them with this, it'll show that I can help people. Logan said that the first step is wanting to help, I guess this is my second. "Are you willing to help?"
"Yeah, sure."
#logan howlett#wolverine#x men#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#ao3 writer
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Everyone's Running From Something (ch. 4)
A Baldur's Gate 3 University Professor AU
Rating: M
Quick Summary: Astarion and Gale are two University English professors precariously mentoring a troubled 19-year-old and falling in love.
💖Main Pairing : BloodWeave,(Astarion/Gale) 💕Side Pairings: Shadowheart/Nocturne, Karlach/Dammon, Wyll/The Dark Urge, Tav/Tav 💔Past Pairings: Gale/Mystra, Astarion/Sebastian, Astarion/Tav
<=Previous Chapter | Master List | Ao3 | Next Chapter =>
**Please see Master List Entry for Full Content Warnings**
⏰Chapter Warning⏰ None
The all-hands meeting for the beginning of the semester went the same way every all-hands meeting at the beginning of semesters go. Every professor and TA in a humanities field got squeezed into a conference room that wasn’t quite big enough, had a powered sugar donut or a couple cubes of assorted melon with half a Styrofoam cup of burnt coffee, and listened to the departmental dean give an un-rousing speech about being on the same page with the other departments. Then he talked at nauseam about school policies and ran a quick training session over a new time-tracking software that would be implemented in 3 weeks’ time.
Gale scribbled down notes on a big yellow legal pad and tried to ignore Jen and Astarion, making faces at each other as he wrote. He’d been in academia long enough to know they’d both be crying to him in a few weeks when they messed up their timecards.
As the meeting drew to a close, a dapper man with slicked-back chestnut hair and a car salesman smile stepped into the room. Astarion went stiff like a cat puffing up to defend itself. The dapper man just gave him a plasticky, knowing smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
The dean perked up a bit as he noticed the man lingering in the back of the room. “Raphael, what a pleasant surprise! I had no idea you would be joining us,” he exclaimed, “We were just finishing up. Are there any words of wisdom you’d like to impart to our humanities faculty?”
“Oh, nothing so important,” Raphael said, and suddenly Gale understood why Astarion was so on edge. Everything about the man oozed with a disingenuous charm that made Gale’s hair stand on end. “I just realized I forgot to send out a notice about the upcoming donor gala the next coming Friday. I realized you were all in a meeting right now, so I thought I’d pop in and remind you in person.”
Raphael’s eyes landed directly on Astarion as he spoke his next sentence. “There is a reasonable expectation that faculty attend these events.” Out of the corner of his eye, Gale saw Astarion’s expression go steely. “After all, we want to show up and show out for the people who allow us to do so much.”
“Of Course!” The dean chirped. “I know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
The meeting adjourned, and Astarion immediately made a break for the door. Gale hurriedly gathered his things in one arm, instinctually following after the only person in the room he really knew, like a baby duck.
Raphael stepped into Astarion’s path before he could get out of the meeting room. “Ah, we meet again, Dr. Ancunín!” Raphael’s voice dripped with sugary contempt. “I will see you at the donor gala, won’t I?”
“Perhaps. Are you thinking about calling in that favor I owe you?” Astarion’s voice was clipped, his face unnervingly blank.
“I think I’d like to wait on that a little longer, but I would like you there in case I change my mind.” Before Astarion could respond, Raphael’s gaze slid off him and onto- “Dr. Dekarios! Wonderful to see you. Are you settling in well?” He reached out a hand to him.
Gale stuffed his legal pad into his work so he could shake Raphael’s hand. “Exceptionally well!” he replied. “Everyone’s done their utmost to make me feel very welcome!”
“Oh, you don’t have to fib on your new colleagues’ account, Dr. Dekarios. I’m more than familiar with how surly certain members of the English department can get.” Raphael laughed congenially, but Astarion shot him a poisonous look.
“I’m not lying to you, sir,” Gale replied. “Astarion’s been nothing but professional.”
“Well, perhaps he’s going a bit soft.” There was a flash of something dangerous behind his eyes. He turned to Astarion. “I shall see you next Friday.” It was a command more than a farewell, but he walked away all the same.
Astarion muttered under his breath. Gale didn’t catch what he said but could make an educated guess. Astarion exhaled a deep breath like he was equalizing pressure.
He turned to Gale and said, “Thank you.”
Gale blinked. “Of course.”
Astarion opened his mouth to say something else, but the words couldn’t or wouldn’t form.
Shadowheart stepped in between them, too concerned with responding to a text message to notice the weird tension. “Karlach wants to get drinks.” She said. “She got stuck in traffic and doesn’t want to drive all the way down here for nothing.”
“Roveer’s?” Astarion asked, a very weary resignation in his voice.
“Yes, probably.”
“Nothing like running into your students at a sports bar a week before classes start…” Astarion grumbled. “Fine. Let me finish here, and I’ll meet you there in, oh… 15 minutes.” He turned to Gale. “Are you coming?”
“To the office?”
Astarion gave him a perplexed look. “To the bar.” He clarified. “You should take the opportunity to meet Karlach.”
Gale could feel himself going bright red as Shadowheart snickered. “Right. Yes. I would love to.” He replied.
“I’ll let Karlach know you’re coming. She’ll be thrilled.” Shadowheart replied, giving Gale a warm smile. “I’ll go lock up. See you in a bit.”
“Come on then.” Astarion replied, nodding for Gale to follow him.
***
The all-hand meeting was on the third floor, so by the time they’d returned to the basement and back up a floor to leave, Gale was starting to fear his knees wouldn’t survive the week- let alone the semester. “There has to be an elevator in this building.” Gale huffed and puffed as he hoofed it up the last flight of stairs. He didn’t want his new colleague’s first impression of him to be of him on his hands and knees wheezing. “I can’t take much more of this…”
“There is, but personally I don’t like chancing it unless I really don’t want to be in a meeting.” Astarion slowed to a stop at the top of the stairs to wait for him. He didn’t seem any worse for wear, but he also seemed much trimmer than Gale was- or at the very least, his shirt accentuated the pleasing nip of his waist. Gale wondered if Astarion was a swimmer. “A history adjunct got stuck in it overnight a few years past, and it still reeks a little bit when it gets hot enough.”
Gale laughed, but Astarion very pointedly did not.
The conversation lulled a little bit.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Gale asked.
“That entirely depends on what you want to ask.” Astarion stepped into the hallway, taking a moment to slip into his grey wool peacoat before they ventured outside.
“Raphael, is he always…”
“Such an ass?” Astarion finished his thought. Gale wouldn’t have used such a strong word, but Astarion had gotten the spirit of the question right, at least. “He’s usually much worse.”
“Oh?”
“He’s a glorified middleman with too much power and time on his hands.” Astarion scoffed. “He enjoys putting things in people’s way and watching them try to wriggle their way out of problems he created. My advice is to deal with him as little as possible.”
“Is he who you went to talk to earlier?”
Astarion gave him a poisonous look that only confirmed Gale’s suspicion.
They walked across campus in uneasy silence. The bitterly cold wind whipped and whistled, tossing the last remnants of fall leaves across the concourse. The few student residents who’d gotten in that morning had either decided to hold up in their rooms or were enjoying their free time in more exciting corners of town. Gale found himself wondering what Xenia was doing... He hoped she wasn’t all alone in an empty dorm.
“Does Xenia have many friends?” Gale asked as they approached a crosswalk leading to the block of shops across from campus.
“Hm?” Astarion tapped the pedestrian-call button, which commanded them to ‘wait!’ in a mechanical voice. “I think she probably has more friends than she realizes she does. Kids like her tend to think they’re alone in everything.”
“Poor kid… Seems like she’s been through enough.” Gale sighed. There was something heartbreaking in the phrase ‘kids like her.’ It was sad to think that there were more 19-year-olds out there carrying emotional burdens far too heavy for their age- sadder still to think that if there weren’t, then Xenia would be alone.
“She’ll figure herself out eventually. She’s not like…” Astarion paused, seemingly a little shocked by what he was about to say. He leveled a wary glance at Gale. “She’s not a quitter, I mean.”
“I’m sure she’s not. I just hope she doesn’t run herself ragged.” The walk light flashed, and they hurried across the street.
***
They were comedically out of place in Roveer’s Roadhouse. A group of grown adults in Oxford dress crowding around a sticky Bud-Lit branded high top surrounded by a bevy of flatscreen monitors playing every sports broadcast under the sun. Shadowheart was already nursing a syrupy cocktail out of a chipped margarita glass.
An extremely tall woman with a red tipped mohawk and smiling eyes bounded over to Gale and clapped a firmly friendly hand on his shoulder. “You’re the new Adjunct, I take it?” She asked. “I’m Karlach, Professor Cliffgate, if you’re nasty.”
“Gale Dekarios.” He reached out to shake her hand. She fist-bumped him instead, and Gale got a glimpse of a nasty burn scar peeking out from the sleeve of her jacket. “It’s a pleasure!”
“Aw, I have a great-aunt named Gale!” Karlach replied.
“I get that a lot…” Gale sighed. “I like your hair!”
“Thanks!” Karlach tussled her own hair. “Told my kiddos they could pick what color I dyed it if they all passed their benchmarks.”
“Does Balduran give benchmarks?”
“Oh, no. Teaching university is my side gig,” Karlach replied. “I’m actually a full-time middle school teacher.”
A spindly girl with bleach-blonde hair pulled into space buns sidled up to the table, clutching a notepad. “Can I take your order?” She seemed quite put upon being asked to do actual work on a slow day.
“Vodka Soda,” Astarion replied, holding his ID out to the server.
She took it and dropped it in her apron, jotted something down on her notepad, and turned to Gale with an expectant look.
“I’ll, uh, take a Corona,” Gale replied. He’d never ordered a Corona in his life, but it seemed like an acceptable ‘getting drinks with colleagues’ kind of an order.
The server stood there staring at him a moment long before she asked, “ID?”
“Oh, um…” Gale patted for his wallet and realized he left it in his desk drawer. “I didn’t realize I would need it…”
“You didn’t realize you’d need an ID at a college bar?” Astarion asked dryly as he turned to the server. “Just put it on my tab.”
The server nodded and walked away without asking if they needed anything else.
“Wow Gale, just one day on the job, and you’re already bumming free drinks off the department chair.” Shadowheart teased. She took a sip of her drink crinkling her nose at the taste.
Gale flustered. “I-I was going to pay with my phone, I swear! I wasn’t planning this.”
“Relax. We’re not so underpaid that I can’t afford to buy you one beer.” Astarion rolled his eyes. “You can return the favor when you get your first paycheck.”
Gale blushed. “Alright.”
The server brought them their drinks without another word, then plopped down at the end of the bar to scroll on her phone. Gale pushed the lime through the neck of his beer bottle and watched it fizz as it sank to the bottom of the dubiously golden liquid.
“So, did I miss anything important at the all-hands?” Karlach asked idly, stirring her bourbon and coke.
“You know you didn’t,” Shadowheart replied. “We’re changing timecard systems, and Raphael and Astarion are in another one of their weird power struggles-there, I saved you an hour and a half.”
Karlach’s eyes lit up, and she turned towards Astarion. “Before the semester even starts?” There was a conspiratorial glee in her voice. “What the fuck could he have possibly done this time?”
“Why spoil the mood by ruminating on that rat bastard?” Astarion said. He picked the lemon slice out of his drink and laid it on a napkin. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Fair.” Karlach shrugged. She turned back to Gale and fixed him with a warm smile. “So, Gale, what brings you to the wonderful world of higher education?”
Gale had thought a lot about what he would tell people when they asked him why he wanted to teach college. He’d written little speeches in the shower about the joys of teaching language and the satisfaction of helping students reach their goal, but sitting in a group of other English professors, that suddenly all felt very trite.
“I was a public librarian, but I had to step away from my last position when I got divorced.” He admitted. “I found a job at a community college teaching database management, and I realized I’d just always missed teaching.” He took a long pull of his beer. The sour of the lime battled with the bitterness of the beer on his tongue.
“Library science might be a harder industry to break into than academia. It must have been tough to leave that behind.” Astarion mused.
“I do miss it terribly sometimes… but my ex helped me get into graduate school and got me my first library job. If I stayed, I would never be able to make anything that was truly mine.” Gale sighed. He could see the wheels spinning in Shadowheart’s head as she tried to figure out his age.
“You talk like you’re as old as this bag of bone,” Karlach pointed a thumb at Astarion, who glared daggers at her. “But there’s no way you’re that old.”
“I’m 35.” Gale clarified.
“That’s a little bit older than I thought, but still nowhere near as old as Astarion,” Shadowheart said.
“You are barely two years younger than me.” Astarion snapped.
“Barely a decade older than Gale, too.” Shadowheart shot back.
Astarion rolled his eyes and muttered something into his drink. “Did you go to get your master’s straight out of undergrad?” he asked.
“Yes, why?”
Astarion shrugged. “That’s just quite young to be with someone that well-established in their field.”
“Oh, we didn’t get together until I graduated.” That wasn’t entirely true. They didn’t get together publicly until he graduated. He didn’t know why he was still defending Mystra. It wasn’t like any of his new colleagues would ever meet her.
“I wasn’t trying to imply anything…” Astarion lied.
“Of course not.”
They both took a sip of their drink, holding awkward eye contact.
“Well, here’s to making something for yourself then,” Shadowheart said, holding her drink out to Gale for a cheers.
Gale clinked the neck of his beer bottle against her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
#bg3#bg3 fanfiction#bloodweave#mat-write#bg3 astarion#bg3 gale#bg3 shadowheart#bg3 raphael#bg3 karlach#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#ao3 link#astarion#gale of waterdeep#shadowheart#karlach#baldur's gate 3 au#bg3 professor au#professor dekarios
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heaven sent — 02. cat cafe
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Again, you woke up to the sound of I Like To Move It.
To your surprise, Danielle wasn’t in your room. You trudged to the bathroom with bleary eyes to wash up and get dressed for whatever idea that Danielle had cooked up, which you were sure would be a waste of time.
You almost tripped on your own two feet when you saw Minji and Danielle in the kitchen, talking animatedly. You cleared your throat.
“Good morning, babe!” Danielle smiled sweetly, standing up and pulling you towards the two of them.
“Babe?” You choked on thin air, coughing erratically as you tried to escape her grip, but she only held you tighter in response.
“Bro.” Minji punched your arm.
“Ow!”
“Why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend?” She chided with a sulky expression.
“What?” You looked to Danielle for help, but she only sent you a threatening smile, which you didn’t know she was capable of, that screamed just go with it.
“Don’t act stupid!” Minji scowled and began to rant, “No wonder why you’re so grumpy all the time, you just miss your girlfriend! Long distance relationships must be hard…”
She paused, glancing at Danielle, “Australia, right?” who nodded in confirmation.
Australia?
“Bro,” Minji dapped you up. “I’m still mad at you for not telling me, but I’m happy for you anyways. I’ll be out of your hair so you can make the most of this time with your lovely girlfriend.”
She then downed her smoothie, and attempted to wink at you, which looked more like she was trying to blink for help in morse code.
“I’m leaving now! Keep the intimate stuff inside the bedroom, you know how I am with germs.”
She slammed the door shut on her way out, leaving the two of you with an awkward silence.
You glared at Danielle. “Are you going to explain what just happened?”
“I was just thinking ahead,” she defended herself. “Do you have a better explanation for having a random girl over for the next two weeks?”
“Well, no,” you sputtered. “But couldn’t you just have introduced yourself as a friend? And Australia, really?”
“Look,” she folded her arms. “It worked! And that’s all that matters.”
“Whatever.”
Your grumbling was rudely interrupted by your car keys being thrown at you unannounced, almost killing you. “Catch!”
“What the fuck?”
“Let’s go!” You watched her skip outside. “I’ll give you the directions.”
You held back a smile as you pulled up to the location.
“A cat cafe?”
Danielle grinned, bouncing her leg up and down. “Who can resist cats? My fellow messengers tell me that it’s a foolproof way to make someone happy.”
You quirked an eyebrow in curiosity as both of you got out of the car. “You have coworkers? When did you have the time to ask them?”
“Well, when you sleep, I return to the office. And then I come back to Earth before you wake up.”
“Oh,” you said. “I kinda thought you just sat there and watched me sleep.”
She glanced at you, bewildered, as you held the door to the cafe open for her. “Why would I do that?”
You shrugged, and proceeded to grimace as you read the entry fee of the cat cafe.
“...You can spawn in money, right?”
“Yes.” Danielle frowned, “But it’s against the code of conduct. Something about inflation.”
“Wow,” you drawled, unimpressed. “Glad that God’s keeping up with the economy.”
By the time you paid for both you and Danielle, she was already sitting on a beanbag, covered with a litter of kittens.
“It’s only been two minutes,” you gawked at her. “How are there already so many cats on you?”
You could barely see her sheepish smile, half covered by a cat’s tail.
“Must be a side effect of being God’s messenger,” she said, voice muffled.
You sat down beside her, petting an orange cat that was licking itself rather aggressively. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you.
“Is it working?” Danielle suddenly blurted out.
You shot her a confused look.
“Are you happy?”
You chuckled at her expectant stare.
“I mean the cats are cute,” you said. “But I’m not jumping around in joy or whatever.”
She gently picked the cats off her, sitting up to look at you. “Why don’t you own a cat? I feel like they’d add a bit of joy in your life. This cafe offers adoptions, you know.”
The orange cat that you were petting moved to lay in your lap.
“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “I can barely take care of myself, let alone a whole pet.”
“Is it because of university?”
“I guess you could say that.” You gave a wry smile, a faraway look in your eyes. Danielle looked like she wanted to ask more questions, but decided against it.
The orange cat lifted its head, leaning up to rub its face against yours, as if consoling you. There was a hint of a smile on your face as you rubbed its chin. Danielle watched the interaction, biting her cheek to hide her own growing smile.
She sank further into the beanbag as more cats piled on top of her. “Tell me more about yourself.”
“Me?” You looked at her skeptically. “What’s there to know about me?”
“Everything,” she answered. “Anything you feel like sharing.”
“Well,” you started slowly. “I’m a first year university student. I study law. That’s about it.”
“Is it hard?”
“Lots of reading,” you sighed, still absentmindedly petting the orange cat. “And lots of writing.”
“Why'd you choose law?”
You replied a beat late.
“No reason. Just felt like it.” You looked outside the window, watching cars drive by. There was that faraway look in your eyes again, as if you weren’t really here. Danielle decided to change the subject.
“What about me?”
“What about you?”
“What would I be like as a university student?”
Danielle internally cheered as she saw your mouth curve up ever so slightly.
“You’d be in veterinary science or something. I think you’d be good at taking care of animals. You seem like the type to love them. And clearly they love you too,” you smiled. A small one, but a smile nonetheless.
The two of you spent the rest of the time mostly in silence, basking in the comfort of the cats and occasionally making idle conversation.
It was nice to be just doing nothing, for once. It was a welcome respite from the chaos and stress of university. It had been a while since you had gone outside to do something leisurely. You liked how natural this all felt. The cute cats were a bonus too, of course.
Danielle was easy to be around — she wasn’t the type to be scared of gaps in conversation. And you appreciated that, you never liked having to force yourself to speak out of necessity.
(The only other person who made you feel this comfortable was Minji, much to your dismay. She was initially a bit off-put by your standoffish attitude, and similarly, you were disgruntled by her extroverted nature. But the two of you eventually adapted to each other’s personalities over some shared meals, which established your current dynamic of Minji being a talkative nuisance and you being an annoyed loser.)
Eventually, you yawned and glanced at the clock, stretching your limbs. “Think our time’s up.”
The orange cat hopped off your lap and strutted away, annoyed by your movement. Danielle carefully scooped the kittens off her and placed them on the ground, saying bye to each one.
You took one last glance at the orange cat, who was now sleeping on a cat tree, before making your way outside with Danielle.
The car ride back was filled with Danielle’s trivial questions.
(“So what’s your favorite color?”
“Green.”
“Any reason why?”
“…No.”
“Morning person or night owl?”
“Is that even a question?”
“Right. Favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Vanilla.”
“Boring.”
“I bet you like strawberry ice cream. With sprinkles on top.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it!”
(This continued until you reached the apartment.)
You did stop by a Taco Bell drive-through on the way back, per Danielle’s request. She claimed that her coworkers hyped up the Baja Blast, and that she wanted to try it. It wasn’t anything particularly special. At least you got a Crunchwrap Supreme for yourself.)
“You know,” Danielle said, rocking back and forth on her feet as the both of you stood at the entrance of the apartment. “I’m surprised you’re taking this whole messenger from God thing so well.”
You shrugged. “I mean, who am I to say no to happiness?”
She took a loud sip from her Baja Blast.
“So, what will you do now?”
“I’m gonna cook up some instant noodles. And then I’m gonna nap.”
“Seriously?” She groaned. “Do you not do anything else besides eat and sleep?”
You looked at her blankly. “Yes.”
“Today wasn’t bad for a first day, right?” She smiled at you uncertainly, but you saw a flicker of hope in her eyes, one that you could easily put out. “Did you have a good time?”
You decided not to.
“Yeah,” you offered a faint smile. “I did.”
Danielle beamed, relieved, and pulled you in for a hug. You awkwardly patted her on the back, noting that happiness suited her much better.
“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow, girlfriend.” She said teasingly, before turning on her heels and disappearing right in front of you.
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Honnnney im having a good time on the sukuita incest yuri brainrot express(wow thats a mouthfull lol) where sukuna is like 15 and her mother married to jin (who manages to end up dying anyways go fucking figure) and as soon as little Yuuji is born she gets oddly attached to baby yuuji.
I like to think fem!sukuna in this is a weeeeee bit more possesive over Yuuji, being more motherly torwards her, and very much does not like disobedience still. Shocker, i know lol.
Fuck it why not add Sukuna getting jealous at her mother for being the one to give birth to Yuuji, decides to take her out of the question and raise Yuuji as her own anyways. And Sukuna always gets what she wants. (Context this is all happenig as Yuuji has only been born for maybe 3 weeks ish like Sukuna out that lacation to work Yuuji LITERALLY needs it)
After that fiasco, Sukuna takes baby Yuuji, and runs off to raise her.
However, she finds out why Yuuji is acting up recently, after finding her diary wide open she knows why. (maybe she was almost late for school?)
And the entry that she first sees? Well that mornings diary talk! Apparently the little brat had been doing it to keep her mother's eyes on her because she's scared of her precious little mommy leaving her for someone else.
For a bit Sukuna is amused, oh little Yuuji just was greedy. That makes more sense. Its silly since she no need for anyone else when she can simply train Yuuji into being her ideal pet, but thats an after thought for another time.
However, It's time to get a new reward system set up for her precious baby. A quick lip of her lips and a small spark of excitement sens shivers down her spine. This is going to be so much fun~♡
OMG I ADORE FEM SUKUITA!!!! bless you for this <3 (i need to get on the sukuita incest yuri brainrot express with you, please.)
i love a good mommy kink especially with these two. i really love the idea of sukuna adopting a more motherly role over yuuji and being both protective and possessive of her. (also yessss please give me brat tamer sukuna having to put a very greedy, bratty teenaged yuuji back in her place <3)
also i'm really in love with the idea of sukuna being jealous enough of yuuji's own mother to steal away her kid just cause she couldn't handle not being yuuji's own biological mother. (does yuuji know about this? how does she feel about being taken away by sukuna? would she ever use that knowledge to blackmail sukuna into being more hands on with her, not knowing that sukuna is very taken with the idea of getting her hands on yuuji already?)
i feel like female yuuji is (even more!) yandere-like towards sukuna so her being jealous and greedy, wanting to keep sukuna all to herself, is only natural. (maybe she even makes sure to never bring her friends around for fear that sukuna will cook for them or treat them motherly like she does for yuuji...)
as for the new reward system sukuna needs to set up for her precious pet... maybe it's time to start giving yuuji a new creamy treat with an addictive taste that yuuji can't quite place. sukuna doesn't bake often, which only makes these treats even more special, but there's something in the flavor that yuuji can't get enough of. and it doesn't help that her precious little mommy is also getting more intimate and indulgent as of late, preparing yuuji bubble baths after a long day of school and brushing her hair before bed. it almost feels like the quiet before the storm, and yuuji can't help but feel excited over what could possibly come next.
(also, i can't stop thinking about sukuna making it a habit to read yuuji's new journal entries every day and laugh over them as she makes those sweet treats for her little pet <3)
hope you've been well, anon! tysm for the lovely ask! hopefully you don't mind what i added on to your amazing ideas >.<
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love ❤️
emily my darling thank you so much for this ask 💖 (even though i'm like replying to it two weeks late) anyway!!! i love all my fics so much, so this was difficult but i picked out some of my absolute fave-faves!
a rare and gentle thing (southern & secret Dolly Parton fan Eddie Munson my beloved!! i loved writing this and seeing everyone's reactions with every chapter, it was so wholesome!)
Eddie misses Tennessee sometimes, though he doesn’t remember much. He misses the warmth of the people and the sunshine, he misses the cornbread his old neighbor Mrs. Carter used to make, but he mostly misses his mom. Misses her laugh and the way she tucked him into bed with a song every night, always with the same Dolly Parton song. Maybe that’s why he always reaches out to Dolly when he’s feeling down in the dumps. And all because of Steve motherfuckin’ Harrington.
2. andante, andante (my entry for lex' spicy six summer challenge 2023! it's gay, it's greek, it's all about summer and love and romance and i love my girls robin and nancy so much!!)
After four years of studying Linguistics, Robin is in desperate need of a break. With the money she saved up these last few months, Robin books a plane ticket to Paris and decides to go on a solo-trip through Europe. While Paris and Vienna are amazing, she longs for some peace and quiet, for endless oceans and cloudless skies. She ends up at the Greek island of Kalokairi, where she meets fellow graduate Nancy and together, they decide that the world is wide and they want to make some memories (and possibly fall in love in the process). OR: a Mamma Mia! inspired gay Greek summer romance extravaganza
3. wear me like a locket around your throat (one of two kinktober 2023 entries with my dear friend @sidekick-hero! i had so much fun writing this because we were on such a roll ping-ponging ideas back and forth and it's still one of the hottest things i've written imo)
There's a long silence in which they both stare at each other, unsure of what to say. Or maybe they know exactly what to say next, what to do next, they're just not sure who's going to be the one to actually bring it up. Eddie is the first to break the silence, he always is. "You want me to put it on for you?" Steve feels his dick twitch at the question, the for you ringing in his ears at the same time the mine, mine, mine mantra comes back with a vengeance. "Please."
4. need a hand? (baby's first stranger things smut! we always need more ronance smut and i'm happy to comply. i was so nervous while writing and posting but i'm so so proud of it!)
“Need a hand?” Those three simple words have Robin choking on air because- “What?” “I said-” Nancy says slowly, taking a step closer to Robin and lowering her voice. “-do you need a hand?” Her blue eyes stare right into Robin’s soul before her gaze temporarily lands on the bed behind Robin and- “Oh.” Or: Robin enjoys some well deserved me-time, until Nancy comes home early and offers to help her out instead.
5. in breakable heaven (i loved diving into the other characters and their reaction to steddie and i'm especially proud of max' character in this fic! it's just a fun and silly fic and i love it, simple as that)
"Dustin…” Nancy asks slowly. “Do they know we know?” “No?” Dustin tries, but the way his voice goes up an octave or two betrays him. “Dustin.” The girls say in unison. “Okay, yes, they know you know!” Dustin finally gives in, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. It’s been one long summer and he just wants this thing to be over with already. "Wait." Robin says. "They don't know that we know they know." OR: Steve and Eddie are trying to hide their budding relationship, but their friends keep finding out anyway. Things take a turn for the worse when their friends try to mess with them to get revenge (based on Friends s5ep14 The One Where Everyone Finds Out)
#steddie#ronance#steddie fic#ronance fic#my fics#stranger things fic#asks#tag game#thanks you emily darling!!!
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Project Mockingbird Ch. 15
summary: the tension...is palpable. but maybe a breakthrough?
pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC
author's note: TWO IN ONE WEEK! I love seeing everyone's responses to this story! it's so fun to write, and it's definitely heating up. let me know what you think!
tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes @kayhi808 @charmedbysarge
(let me know if you want to be added <3)
chapter list
_______________________________________
The sterile air of the training room hummed with a tension that felt almost palpable. Bucky stood, arms crossed, in front of a giant digital screen displaying a complex urban environment. Charlotte, her focus intense, studied the map that sprawled before her. It had only been two days since the attack on the compound, and though she’d been released to sleep in her own bed the first night, she wasn’t cleared for combat training until her broken ribs had healed and the stitches had been removed from her leg. She’d opted to return to lessons with Bucky almost immediately, despite their spat in the medical wing. Her desire to avoid being alone with her thoughts was stronger than her desire to avoid him.
He wore his normal daily attire: tactical pants and combat boots, a snug black shirt hugging his chest. Charlotte wore almost identical garb, with loose cargo pants the most comfortable to wear over the bandaging on her leg.
"Okay," Bucky began, his voice steady, "you have your objective. Hostage situation, downtown area, high civilian presence. Minimal casualties, maximum stealth. Your move."
Charlotte paused for a moment before pointing to a section of the map, tracing a potential entry route. "Rooftop entry here. We can use the neighboring building as a vantage point."
Bucky shook his head. "Too exposed. Snipers could easily pin you down. Next."
She bit her lip, her frustration growing, then suggested, "What about a distraction? Create a diversion on the opposite block to draw them out."
"And risk civilian casualties? Not an option. Think, Charlotte."
She took a deep breath, regrouping, before offering another handful of potential ways to diffuse the situation. With each suggestion shot down, Charlotte's strategies grew more audacious, her patience thinning. As her ideas got sloppier, Bucky’s feedback got more critical.
“You do that and you might as well just surrender now. They’d see you coming a mile away and have all their forces ready to ambush you. Are you prepared to send your whole team into a blatant trap? You’re not even thinking this through.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.
Finally, she snapped. "What do you want from me, Bucky? To pull some genius plan out of thin air? You're not giving me anything to work with!"
Bucky, unyielding, leaned forward until his face was inches from hers. "I want you to think. Real situations won't give you 'anything to work with' either. You need to adapt, improvise, and most importantly, keep those hostages and your team safe."
Charlotte's eyes blazed. "You think I don't know that? You're acting like I'm some rookie who's never faced a real threat!"
“Last time I checked, you are a rookie. When was the last mission you came on?” Bucky's tone hardened. "I'm trying to prepare you for situations where there might not be a clear right answer. You think I don't see your potential? I do. But potential's not enough when the lives of people you care about are on the line. You need to be strategic, not just brave. If you run into an escalated situation with nothing but ‘kick ass’ in your arsenal, you’re going to get yourself killed."
The air between them crackled with tension as Charlotte threw her hands in the air. "Oh, so now you're the world’s leading expert on nonviolent negotiations? Last time I checked, only one of us has ‘World’s Deadliest’ on our resume and it isn’t me.” She didn’t shy away, getting even closer to his face. “Tell me how much strategy came into play then, Soldat."
The words hung heavy, a low blow that cut incredibly deep. Bucky's face tightened, a flicker of old pain in his eyes as he set his jaw. If looks could kill, she had a feeling she’d have already taken her last breath. Instead of the verbal lashing she expected, he took a slow breath before stepping back.
"That's not fair, Charlotte, and you know it," he replied, his voice low but sharp enough to slice through the tension.
Charlotte, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and regret, met his gaze. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.
"I—" She began, then stopped. What was she doing? This was Bucky, who'd risked everything, who'd been through hell and back. And here she was, using his past against him. "I'm sorry," she said, the words feeling inadequate. "That was out of line."
But Bucky's demeanor had already shifted. He looked at her, his gaze piercing, and for a moment, Charlotte thought she saw a flicker of something more—anger, betrayal, perhaps even hurt. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, shuttered behind the steel walls he was so adept at erecting.
"Yeah," Bucky finally said, his voice cold and distant. "It was."
Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked briskly away. The sound of his boots against the floor echoed in the large room, each step thundering through her. Charlotte watched him go, her heart sinking. She wanted to call out, to apologize again, to explain that her words had come from a place of frustration and fear, not malice. But the words stuck in her throat, tangled up with her pride and the lingering sting of their argument.
As the door slid shut behind him, leaving her alone in the silence of the training room, a mix of emotions roiled within her. Guilt for having crossed a line, anger at Bucky for being so impossibly difficult to work with, and beneath it all, a gnawing fear that she had just irreparably damaged whatever fragile connection they had been building.
She sank down onto a nearby bench, her injured leg protesting the sudden movement. The physical pain was nothing compared to the turmoil swirling inside her. She had wanted to prove herself, to show Bucky—and maybe, more importantly, herself—that she was capable, that she wasn't the weak link. Instead, she had let her temper get the best of her, lashing out in the worst possible way. The worst part? She really was trying. All of her suggestions, at least the early ones, were instinctive. Had she been in the heat of a mission, thinking on the spot, she would have acted on them. Acted on them and gotten people killed, as Bucky was so keen on reminding her. Goddamn him, this was difficult for her. She didn’t come from a military background before her capture by HYDRA, and she didn’t have years with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes honing her skills. She knew how to fight, how to survive, as she’d proven time and time again. Yet, all he seemed to be able to see was where she fell short. Brute strength and violence had gotten him through some of the worst horrors known to man, and here he was, telling her that wouldn’t be enough. Well, it would have to be. That was all she had.
The room felt oppressively large now, the echoes of their argument bouncing off the walls, a reminder of how quickly things had spiraled out of control, as they always seemed to do. Charlotte wrapped her arms around herself, a futile attempt to ward off the chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
______
The night air was crisp, and the lake below was a reflection of the starlit sky as Charlotte stood alone on the balcony, wrapped in her thoughts and an oversized sweatshirt. The events of the day had left her raw, her emotions a tangle of frustration, guilt, and an indefinable ache that seemed to pulse with the night. She’d avoided the common room until she knew Bucky would be in training with the SHIELD agents, then shut herself in her room until after dinner, leaving only to get herself the plate of food she knew Natasha had left in the fridge for her. After another failed attempt to sleep, she’d awoken in a cold sweat and found her way out to the balcony.
Behind her, the sliding door whispered open, and she stiffened, half-expecting another attack. But when she whirled around, already setting her feet in a defensive posture, it was to find Bucky standing there with two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. The panic must have shown on her face because he raised the mugs candidly, showing the peace offering.
"Vanilla, extra cream," he said, extending one of the cups towards her. The gesture was so unexpected, so gentle after their harsh words earlier, that Charlotte found herself momentarily lost for words. She couldn’t remember ever telling him how she took her coffee, and yet here it was, smelling perfectly sweet and familiar.
She took the cup, feeling the warmth seep into her fingers. "Bucky, I—I need to apologize. For earlier. I was so out of line," she started, but Bucky shook his head, cutting her off.
"No," he said firmly, "I pushed you too hard. I haven't been fair to you, haven't given you the credit you deserve." He leaned on the balcony railing, his gaze distant, reflective. "You saved the compound, Charlotte. While we were off chasing ghosts, you...you showed you have what it takes. In the heat of the moment, you did what you had to, and you saved lives." He tilted his head to meet her eyes. “You risked your own. I just…don’t want you to have to do that again.”
Charlotte's facade crumbled, her carefully constructed walls falling away as tears welled in her eyes. "What's wrong?" Bucky asked, brows furrowing in concern.
"I just... I didn't feel prepared," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I was terrified the whole time, and I had no idea what I was doing. Everyone keeps calling me a hero, and I don’t…I’m not one.”
Bucky's head tilted as he took a step closer, his gaze searching hers. "You did great out there, Charlotte. You saved this whole place, and the lives of everyone in it."
Charlotte shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips as the tears spilled over. "Did I? Or was it just dumb luck?"
Bucky reached out, gently cupping her cheek and wiping away her tears with his thumb. "Hey, don't say that. You were incredible. You held your own against HYDRA."
“I was scared shitless. I kept thinking how it was my fault. My fault they came here in the first place, and it would be my fault that the compound fell while you were gone. The whole time, I was just…making it up as I went.” She laughed coldly again, looking up to blink back tears. “Everyone keeps acting like I did something amazing, when we both know I only survived because of you. You’re the only one who sees through me, sees that I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing and I hate it. I wish you weren’t right, but you have been. Every single goddamn time.” She angrily wiped her tears with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
Watching her, sensing she wasn’t done, Bucky’s hand rested reassuringly on her shoulder.
Charlotte looked down into her mug, seeing her reflection warped on the surface of the liquid. "I felt terrified," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Confused, lost. It all felt so... unnatural. I was second-guessing every decision, worried I was making the wrong move." She stared blankly ahead, eyes unseeing as her gaze looked somewhere past the lake. "I took it as a sign that I'd never make a good Avenger."
Bucky leaned back down over the railing, frowning at her. "Do you think you're the only one who feels that way? Even after hundreds of missions, there are times I'm still scared, still doubting." He paused, searching her face. "That fear, that uncertainty, it doesn't make you weak. It makes you human. And it's what makes you think, makes you evaluate and choose the best path forward, even when it's hard. It doesn’t mean you’re not cut out for this…it just means you actually give a shit about what you’re doing."
Charlotte met his gaze, and in that moment, a connection forged in the heat of conflict and cooled in the calm of understanding passed between them. The swift forgiveness of her incredibly cruel words. The raw, brutal honesty. The peace offering. The lack of judgment as she broke down in front of him. "I guess we're just trying to do our best, huh?" she said, a tentative, watery smile touching her lips.
"Yeah," Bucky agreed, his voice soft but steady. "We're all just trying to do our best.”
Charlotte stared ahead, taking a slow sip of her coffee. Bucky studied her for a moment, his gaze searching. "Why are you up so late, Char?" he asked quietly.
She hesitated, the words catching in her throat for a moment before she spoke. "Nightmares," she admitted quietly. "I’ve always had them, but they've been worse since... since the attack. I see all the other outcomes, if I’d failed. Tonight I dreamt that they got me, took me back there. That’s the worst one. Sometimes I have to get outside, under the stars and fresh air, just to remind myself that I'm free."
Bucky's expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes. "I know what you mean," he said, his voice low. "I still get them too. I imagine that I wake up from cryo, and this was all a dream, that I was never free. That’s my worst one.”
Their eyes met, a rare moment when both of their walls had come down. Their looks mirrored each other, vulnerable and bare, waiting for the other to make one wrong move and get shut back out. Neither of them spoke. Even speaking the contents of her nightmares aloud had made Charlotte’s hands tremble, and she took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of her coffee cup. Breaking their gaze, she looked back out into the expansive night sky.
"Are you...scared? Now that they’re back?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky didn't hesitate. "Shitless.”
Charlotte reached out, her hand finding his on the railing. She expected him to pull away, to retreat into himself as he so often did. But to her surprise, he didn't. Instead, he tightened his grip, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand.
They sat in silence as the night stretched on around them, finding solace in each other's presence. They had no answers, no reprieve in sleep, not even peace in their home, but they had a hand to hold onto, anchoring them in their fear. And with it, they found a flicker of hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness that threatened to consume them both.
________
The Avengers' kitchen was a hive of activity, with pots clanging, eggs frying, and the aroma of breakfast filling the air. The team members moved about with practiced ease, each contributing to the morning chaos in their own way.
Sam, wielding a spatula like a pro, called out to Natasha, who was expertly flipping pancakes on the griddle. "Hey, Nat, you sure you didn't miss your calling as a short-order cook?" he teased, earning a laugh from the others.
“Maybe in the next life,” She winked, flipping another perfect pancake.
Steve couldn't resist chiming in from his post by the toaster. "I don't know, Sam. I think I’ve got her beat," he quipped, waving his burnt toast in the air. Charlotte wrinkled her nose as she walked past it, the bitter smell assaulting her.
“Good morning sunshine,” Sam called before resuming his whistling, clearly in a great mood. Charlotte wondered if he’d just gotten back from Calla’s apartment, and when they’d stop splitting their time now that the secret of their relationship was out. She made a note to ask her friend later.
Bucky, already stationed by the coffee pot, flashed a grin as Charlotte waltzed up. "Coffee?" he offered, holding out a mug with a knowing look.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Second coffee in less than twelve hours?”
Bucky shrugged nonchalantly. "Don’t get used to it," he deadpanned.
“Don’t be such a good barista.” She teased, sipping from her mug before hopping onto the counter beside him.
Their exchange didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the team, who exchanged knowing glances and playful nudges as they observed the interaction.
Sam couldn't resist a quip. "Well, would you look at that? Bucky's finally learned how to share," he teased.
Natasha smirked, shooting Bucky a pointed look. "I guess miracles really do happen.”
Always ready to diffuse a situation, Steve called. "Hey, Charlotte, I meant to tell you," he began, catching her eye. "Tony and Pepper are coming back to the compound later this afternoon. Pepper wants to meet with you.”
Charlotte's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? Why?" she asked.
Steve nodded, his expression reassuring. "Yep. She wants to talk about hosting a press conference. They think it's time to let the world know who you are.” He gave a reassuring smile. “Don’t be nervous, you’ll do great. We’ve all done them. Even Bucky.” He elbowed his friend as he sidled past, plopping down at the head of the table.
Charlotte raised her eyebrows, still looking hesitant. “If you say so.”
“At least you'll look better on TV than Sam," Bucky said dryly, giving her a sidelong look.
Sam bristled at the jab, shooting Bucky a mock glare. "Hey, watch it, Barnes. I'll have you know I've got a face for the big screen," he retorted.
“Is that what they’ve been telling you?” He raised an eyebrow, dodging a swat from Sam’s spatula. Giggling, Charlotte felt slightly more at ease as her friends fell into chaos around her.
_________
Smoothing her shirt, Charlotte approached the sleek conference room with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. She wasn't sure what to expect from this meeting with Pepper Potts, Tony Stark's famed and formidable right-hand woman. Did she do something wrong? Was she in trouble? The thoughts raced through her mind as she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
"Ms. Rossi, thank you for coming. Please, have a seat," Pepper greeted warmly, gesturing to a chair across from her. She was beautiful, looking equal parts polished and genuine.
Charlotte forced a smile and took a seat, trying to hide her unease. "My friends call me Charlotte, or at least, everyone here does.”
Pepper chuckled. "Alright, Charlotte. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you."
“Likewise.” She raised an eyebrow. “Although I’ll warn you, I’m not overly keen on the idea of a press conference…if that’s what this is about.”
Pepper chuckled again. "It is, but just know there’s no pressure. This is my professional recommendation, if you desire to be a more public part of the team. We’ve had quite a few incidents of public scrutiny over the past several years, and we’ve found that it makes everyone’s lives much easier if we stay ahead of it. And since you’re new here…"
Charlotte leaned back in her chair, adopting a more casual posture. "Then we should get ahead of it before the public can find something to scrutinize."
Pepper smiled. "Exactly."
“Well, let’s hear the game plan, then. You’re the expert.”
Pepper clasped her hands together on the table atop a stack of notes. "Well, with everything that's been happening lately, there's been quite a bit of interest in you."
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Me? What’s been happening lately?”
Pepper laughed softly. "Modesty, I see. But yes, your journey has captivated a lot of attention. You were all over the news with your stint in gymnastics, and then you even made a splash as a big fish in Las Vegas, all before disappearing. The internet is very difficult to slip anything past, and it didn’t take long for them to put things together. People love a mystery."
Charlotte tilted her head warily. "That’s one thing to call me."
Pepper smiled. "Indeed. But, we have an opportunity to share your story with the world. On your terms, the way you want it to be told. As much or as little as you’d like to give, anything would help prevent people from writing the narrative for you. Show them who you are before they can tell you."
Charlotte's skepticism showed on her face. "Ah, the old charm offensive, huh?"
Pepper nodded. "Something like that. It's a chance for people to get to know the real Charlotte, not just the headlines they’ll inevitably see if you join the Avengers Initiative."
“Who says I’m joining the Avengers?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m very good at my job.” Pepper winked. “And don't worry, you won't be alone. The team and I will be there to support you every step of the way. We’ll prepare you beforehand, be right there to step in if you get uncomfortable or don’t know how to answer something. You have my word.”
Charlotte gave a half smile. "Alright, I'll do it. But if I say something wildly inappropriate or incriminating, I can’t be held responsible.”
Pepper laughed. "Have you met Tony? I don’t think we’ve ever had a press conference without something wildly inappropriate or incriminating. You’ll do just fine.”
#james bucky barnes#avengers#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#winter soldier#bucky fluff#sebastian stan#winter soldier fluff
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