#Smartwatch second hand

[asistenta-virtuala]

Descoperă top 3 electronice Premium la prețuri SMART pe Flip

Cauți cele mai bune electronice la prețuri avantajoase, cu garanție și siguranță? Flip te ajută să faci alegeri inteligente, oferind telefoane, laptopuri și smartwatch-uri recondiționate sau second-hand. Toate produsele trec prin 67 de teste riguroase de calitate, sunt cu până la 40% mai ieftine, vin cu 2 ani garanție și 30 de zile retur gratuit. Descoperă cele mai populare produse din topul…

[lyrenminth]

A gift

Justin received a meaningful gift on his birthday.

After a nice dinner with family and friends, and now in the house quietly sitting eating his favorite pastry you made from zero. You could tell he was happy, and you were happy for him too. You love him so much you wanted him to feel that love.

You approach the table with a black box between your hands, when he saw you his eyes light up.

"Oh, more gifts?" he said, finishing the pie.

"The best for the last" you sang, putting the box in front of him and bending to kiss him on the forehead. "Happy birthday, Justin. I love you" you whispered.

He smiled like a little kid, and started opening the box happily. There were several gifts there: the first was a grey cap that he put over his head immediately. Then a smartwatch, the lastest version, he raised his eyebrows in a silent question

"I know you don't like a spent money on you, but it's your birthday, so just say thank you"

"You have give me more of what I deserve" he explained, opening watch's box, he stopped for a second. The design was simple and effective, exactly what he like it. "Ok, it's nice" you laughed, and he turned a little bit red in the cheeks. Finally, it was a book, there was only his initials on the cover, the green leather smelled so nice. "A book?" he asked, looking at you.

"A very special book" you said, excited.

It was the most expensive gift of all. You spent months doing it. Inside the book, there were letters from his family, friends, coaches and teachers since elementary school until now he was in the NFL. All of them telling Justin whatever they wanted to tell. You didn't read so much to keep the privacy. Some of them even include photos you've never seen before. It was a heartwarming gift.

He read the letter of his parents first. It was kinda long, but it was worth it to see his expression. He was holding back tears. When he read the letter Mitch wrote, he started crying a little. He flipped through the pages reading all the signatures that came at the end.

"Wow, everyone is in here" he said, in a shacky but impressed voice. "Even people who live far away"

"It took a little bit of work, but I feel it was important" you explained, holding his hand and squeezing it.

"I...I don't know what to say" he wiped away the tears, suddenly shy "Thank you"

"I'm glad you like it" unconsciously he held the book against his chest.

"You wrote me a letter too?" he asked, putting the book on the table a looking for your letter.

"Yes, you can read it later. When you are feeling sad or stressed. You can read any letter when want when you're feeling down"

One tear stared running across his cheek. He wiped immediately. "Fuck, I wasn't planning to cry"

"It's ok" you stood up to hug him, and he rest his face between your breasts, inhaling deeply. His big arms surrounded your waist, and you gave him tiny kisses on his forehead.

"I love you " he mumbled so low you almost didn't hear it. But your heart started beating faster.

"I love you too"

He looked at you from his wet lashes and brought you towards him to kiss you eagerly. He tasted sweet, and made you clench all your muscles. When you felt his tongue making his way, you stopped to take air. You were sitting across his legs, holding on from his thick neck...dazed.

"Why am I sitting?" you asked with a chuckle.

"This is your place" he said, looking for your mouth again.

[tiramisuucakeee]

4. LOSING MY MIND

( sunflower, yang jungwon )

it was the early morning, and you were out running through the city in your white sport set, hair pulled up neatly with gel, and face flushed pink from the exhaustion. a few blocks away, you spotted a small shop, making you sigh gladly. being the forgetful girl you were, you forgot to bring water bottle, but this shop was your salvation.

picking up your pace, you weaved through the bustling commuters, flashing smiles at the friendly faces you passed.

when you finally reached the shop, you paused to stop the timer on your smartwatch, feeling proud as you glanced at your heart rate and steps. fishing out a bill from the pocket of your shorts, you headed toward the fridge, debating which brand of water to grab.

“personally, i like smart water, you should try it,” a voice called out from behind you. you spun around to see jungwon, the boy whose presence recently managed to catch your attention.

“hey, jungwon, what are you doing here?” you asked, panting slightly as you placed your hands on your hips. he looked effortlessly cool in his all-black sweat set, a striking contrast to your bright outfit.

“i really like the sandwiches here, so i’m buying one for me and my aunt for breakfast,” he smiled, showing off his two precious dimples. “you’re out running this early? that’s impressive,” he asked, opening the fridge next to you to take out a water, seeing as you completely forgot about it.

“uh huh, my parents leave early, and i always do so too, i just run around for a while, and when i feel like my legs are about to give out, i go home to prepare something to eat” you replied, walking alongside him toward the cashier, your heart racing a bit more than usual.

“so you’re usually on your own in the mornings?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. unlike him, who always seemed to have a warm home to return to, you were often left to your own accord, both parents swallowed by their demanding corporate jobs.

giving him a frown, you asked “yeah, kind of, why?”

“would you like to join us for breakfast? it’s just me and my aunt, i live a block away. i really don’t want you eating alone, please y/n,” he admitted, waiting for your answer. there was something about jungwon made you trust him, he gave off a sense of comfort and security that you were a bit familiar with.

you hesitated for just a moment, then a small smile crept onto your face. “uh… yeah, sure,” you replied, feeling a lightness in your chest as he grinned, nearly bouncing on his toes in delight. but he kept his composure and ordered three sandwiches to the cashier with an effortless charm. as he completed the transaction, you suddenly remembered something.

“oh wait, i forgot my water” you realized, about to head back to the fridges, but the boy stopped you. “i picked one up for you, here” he handed the cold bottle to you, your hands grazed gently against his, and you felt a spark of warmth that made you momentarily lose your breath. he swallowed hard, his gaze lingering on you for just a heartbeat longer than necessary.

after you got the goods, and jungwon telling you he could handle carrying the food and drinks all by himself, even if you insisted to help him, you both made your way to his apartment.

the building was a bit older, and smaller than most, the elevator didn’t work, which left the only option of taking the stairs. you kept insisting about carrying at least your food, feeling a bit embarrassed about him paying and also having to transport it all.

“no, i’m okay, but you could help opening the door,” he said, as you got to his floor, and you followed him to the apartment door.

“opening the- yeah, and the keys are?” you asked, as he arrived to the wooden entry. “necklace ‘round my neck,” jungwon simply said, but was internally screaming and rolling around, trying to control the blush that would most likely show in in his face in the next two seconds.

you reached out under his hoodie from the neck, gulping hard, his skin felt cold against your warm hand. trying to keep a straight face, you felt around to get his necklace, noticing he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and clasped it open, taking the key in your hand.

“here,” you awkwardly sniffed, looking away. key in hand, you slid it inside the lock and twisted it right to open the door.

jungwon’s eyes fell on the back of your head, noticing how the front of your head was neat and gelled, but the back wasn’t, having a few flyaways.

“jungwon,” you sang out to him, taking him out of trance.

he motioned for you to open the door and step inside, and went in after you, speaking up. “aunt may! i’m back from the store!” he called out, kicking the door closed with his foot.

you held the necklace-key and your water bottle in hand, looking around the modest apartment. the walls are painted a warm beige, but they’re slightly scuffed in places. the small living room area was crammed with mismatched furniture, an old couch, a rickety coffee table, and a couple of chairs that look like they’ve seen better days.

but it seemed like the coziest place ever, it just radiated a sense of ‘home’ that your penthouse did not.

“uh, i am going to set the table,” jungwon said, glancing around apologetically. “you can stay here in the living room. sorry about the mess.”

you waved your hands, telling him it was alright. “don’t worry, i don’t mind, it’s nice being in a home,” you smiled, and walked over to a wall near the hallway.

“right” jungwon murmured a bit troubled by your words, watching your figure as you skimmed over some photos on the wall, imagining how it would be like to live with you. his dream was to be with someone that would bring a sense of warmth into his life.

the wall was a collage of memories, with various pictures capturing jungwon at different ages. one of young jungwon, in a taekwondo outfit, throwing a kick in the air proudly, a small gold medal around his neck..

another one of a woman who you thought to be his aunt, she looked quite young, and was sporting a big smile, standing next to a freshman grade jungwon, who had big glasses on and tidy uniform.

but the last photo really caught your eye, it was a picture of him recently at the stark tower, you could tell by his messy hair and tall figure. his dimples were on full display as he beamed, a smile of pure joy, as he stood next to the legendary tony stark, who held his hand in a strong handshake.

“oh my god!” a voice exclaimed to your left, jolting you from your thoughts. you turned to see the woman from the picture, aunt may. “are you y/n?” she asked, rushing over and gently taking your shoulders as she studied your face.

“yes? hi?” you gulped, “i don’t know if jungwon told you about me coming over-” before you could finish, she ushered you to the living room couch, her warm presence instantly putting you at ease.

“oh, psh! he has told me all about you” she waved, “about the famous y/n, cheerleader and who almost got hit by a football! i didn’t think you’d be this pretty,” she nodded agreeingly.

“oh! uh… thank you?” you let out a chuckle, fixing your shirt sleeves.

“like, jungwon has barely ever brought a friend over, of course there’s jay, who is always here, he’s like won’s brother at this point!” she laughed, pulling her disveleshed balayaged hair to the front. “but he’s not a girl, i imagined someone else completely.”

as if on cue, jungwon walked into the living room, his eyes widening when he saw you chatting with his aunt, wondering what kinds of things she told you about. he just hoped she hadn’t told you she would show you his baby pictures.

“aunt may! y/n!” he said loudly, interrupting the moment, as you both turned to him.

“won! why didn’t you tell me your new friend was so pretty!” aunt may stood up, walking over to him and ruffling his hair playfully, causing him to blush. he swatted her hand away, trying to regain some dignity, but the grin on his face betrayed him.

“aunt may… don’t be weird,” he groaned. “breakfast is ready.”

the three of you walked into the small cluttered kitchen, and sat down around the table, all having different colored cutlery and cups. you waited for jungwon to take out the sandwiches from the toaster-over, and he placed one on your plate with an award-winning smile.

“i hope you like them,” he said, as he sat down, and served some juice in every glass.

you waited for his aunt to start eating, and then did so yourself, moaning in delight at the food. “mm, this- is really good” you placed the sandwich down. your words made jungwon light up, happy that you like something he did as well.

“so, y/n, right?” aunt may started, “what color is your dress?” she asked, sipping some juice.

you blinked in surprise, caught off guard. “for the dance? i was thinking about red. why?” you tilted your head, curious about where this was going.

“so we can match jungwon’s tie to your dress,��� she said, and you both looked at eachother, understanding what she was implying.

“oh, aunt may, we- we are not going to the dance together- she’s just a friend..” he gulped, suddenly finding his sandwich very interested.

and then the thought of going to the dance with him made its way to your head, something you hadn’t considered before. you wouldn’t mind going to the dance with jungwon at all.

so you three continued eating, chatting about other things, football, cheer, his internship with mr. stark, and a bit about your life. aunt may was probably the most excited about jungwon own having a girl over.

when breakfast was done, aunt may leaned back in her chair, a twinkle in her eye. “you can stay over for as long as you want, y/n. and jungwon can walk you back home after you two are done hanging out,” she said, her tone cheerful and a bit mischievous.

you had told her you would call the family’s driver from your phone, and she shouldn’t worry about it.

but you couldn’t help but think that it was crazy how life turned out, never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you would be in yang jungwon's room, spending time with him after he saved you from getting hit by that football and invited you for breakfast. as you looked at him, the realization that you actually enjoyed his company made you smile. the moments you shared felt effortless, unlike any other boy you had been with before.

where had yang jungwon been all your life, and why had you not noticed him before?

“you like photography?” you asked, walking over to him slowly, standing in your tippy toes to look over his shoulder at the camera he had in his hands.

jungwon’s spider sense was going absolutely crazy about you being so near, feeling your body right behind his, inches separating you both from touching.

“yeah, it’s just something i like to do,” he replied, his voice a little shaky as he coughed to clear his throat. he took off the lens cover and turned the camera on, the soft ‘click’ sound echoing in the small room.

“really? wait, can you try it on me?” you beamed, jumping back and posing, getting a fond laugh from him. “as you wish.”

you held up a peace sign next to your face, and smiled brightly, waiting for him to take the picture. as he looked through the lens, jungwon’s expression softened, his focus entirely on you.

the camera clicked again, and in that instant, it felt like your heart skipped a bit, suddenly aware of the whole situation. you were interested in him, actually, inexplicably. he made you curious about what it would be like to feel a dream.

“done,” he grinned, and pressed some buttons on his camera, turning the picture to you. “look.”

you blinked rapidly, feeling something of a slight preassure on your heart at being so close to jungwon. he zoomed in the picture, that captured you like a painting.

“wow, that’s amazing,” you said, also holding the camera, barely grazing his hand and glanced up at him, seeing that he was already looking deeply at you.

he was just so close, so absolutely close, his gaze couldn’t help but fall into your lips. you felt drawn to him in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. jungwon’s breath hitched, and he took a small step closer, your bodies almost touching.

your heart raced as you were momentarily falling into him, as if something magnetic was pulling you closer to his body. you were aware of everything - his dark eyes, soft face and messy hair - and also of nothing at the same time, your entire being focusing on how much your blood rushed to your face.

everything was perfect, almost in those final moments before your lips brushed, where the line between friendship and something more blurred into an intoxicating haze. it was as if the multiverse had held its breath.

“won!” aunt may loudly barged into the room, watching her phone. “why don’t you show y/n that huge lego star thing you have, huh?” she looked up just in the moment you two pulled apart, careful not to look too guilty.

“yeah, okay…” jungwon nodded, still yearning for what almost happened a second ago. “i will, aunt may.”

you swung back and forth on your feet, looking away awkwardly, as his aunt closed the door after making sure everything was fine.

you prayed that he wouldn’t mentioned what had just happened, and he didn’t, only kneeled under his single bed, taking out a lego structure. jungwon sat criss-crossed on the floor, and you joined him, a bit of distance between you two. “what’s this?” you but your lip, glancing around the round thing.

“it’s star wars, the death star, uh, have you seen any of the movies?” he asked. you wanted to agree, not wanting to get made fun of from not seeing a movie, just like all the others you had dated did.

“no, i haven’t,” you answered mindlessly, cursing at yourself for telling the truth.

but instead of mocking you or laughing, jungwon slowly nodded. “i see, you should though, they’re really good, it’s basically like, an epic space opera, right? it’s set in a galaxy far, far away, filled with all these incredible worlds and alien species. there’s this guy, anakin, he’s one of my favorite characters…” he rambled, his hands slicing through the air as he continued. “oh, also! you’ve got the jedi, who are like these super cool knights with lightsabers and the power of the force - think of it as a mystical energy that connects all living things, they fight against the sith, who are basically the dark side’s version of the jedi, with their own lightsabers and trying to take over the galaxy.” jungwon paused, seeing your focused face.

“was that too much information?” he chuckled, placing down his lego darth vader and yoda, with a lopsided smile. but you were just too taken aback by all of him, something just made you notice ever single detail about jungwon, he was a complete nerd and somehow that made you even more attracted to him.

“yes- no, it’s not,” you corrected yourself. “you should show me one of the movies someday, you know? we could-“ you wanted him to get the hint, wanting to know if he was actually interested in you or not, but it completely flew over his head.

“that’s such a good idea! i got the dvd’s, hold on-“ he stood up, and went to his desk, rummaging through calculus papers and school books, finally landing on the plastic cases. “okay, i have, the phantom menace, attack of the clones, revenge of the sith, a new hope, the empire strikes back..” he kept reading the titles, as you rolled your eyes and stood up, heading over to where he was.

“whichever comes first of course,” you shrugged, as he handed you the first movie, still too occupied to look at you, busy with his movies. “i swear i had this one over here…” he mumbled, still lost in his world of movies.

you took the dvd, and glanced between him and the case. “jungwon,” but he kept searching around for something, just so happy you showed interest in his favorite films of all time.

“won!” you called again, getting his attention, who looked like a deer in headlights. “yeah?”

“i said…” you took his hand in yours, placing the dvd back in it, and kept it there, stepping forward, “we both should watch it someday.”

jungwon’s eyes widened in disbelief. could this really be happening? or was it just a friendly gesture? he didn’t want to waste the chance to find out. “you mean as in a…” he trailed off, searching your face for confirmation before risking embarrassment.

you let out a soft laugh, shifting. “yes, as in that,” you confirmed his suspicions, which somehow, made him still doubt. “i was also meaning to ask about the, uh, the dance, you, know, what your aunt said-“

and just like always, just when the hundreds of existing heartbroken spider-man’s who were rooting for the pair were about to celebrate, the moment had to get ruined by mr. time. your phone started sounding with a cheeky ringtone, letting you know your driver was here to pick you up.

TAGS: @jiiyen

EXTRA:

masterlist.

prev chapter.

next chapter.

all chapters.

[beelmons]

Luke Alvez x ADHD!Girlfriend (cw: mentions of mental disorder, light angst)

It was always fun at games with him, classic Luke Alvez. Continuously saying how cute it was how you 'obsessed' over things. Time and again teasing you lovingly whenever you would zone out during conversations. Without fail, mentioning that you would be lost without him reminding you when to eat, and that it made him feel special.

Good ol' Luke, always looking at the bright side, always breezing through life. He'd hold you through the night whenever the anxiety randomly spiked, he'd reassure you that your mental disorder didn't define you, that you were more than that, that you were enough. He loved you, he really did.

But at the end of the day, it wasn't him who had to live with that disease. It was you. He didn't have to stay up, restless, due to random insomnia. He didn't have to set a million alarms to take just one pill. He didn't beat himself up whenever he was unable to do something simple, a mundane chore, just because his brain wouldn't respond. He got to go home, do his dishes, wash his laundry, and be okay. He didn't have to live with your faulty brain. Oh, but, alas he did have to live with you.

"I work hard. I work really hard. I don't think I'm asking for a lot here." he complained regarding the tidiness of the apartment you had had to yourself for almost a week. It wasn't common for him to lose his cool, but when he did, you had to brace yourself. He would never hurt you, no, but you would feel him far away, so far away despite being in the same room, that he might as well hold a dagger to your chest. That would pain you a lot less.

It had been little over six months since the two of you moved in together. The military-style routine that he had was benefitial to you, he'd drag you along for breakfast, motivate you into a quick workout, tease you into taking your pills. It was good for you, he was good for you. Everything was okay, until he was gone, and the facade of being a functional adult crumbled to the ground.

A slow forming knot began to grow within the walls of your throat. Was this the same man who months before professed eternal devotion to you only? It was hard to tell. Perhaps, he wasn't ready. Ready to deal with someone like you. You hugged your body trying to contain your tears, yet before you were able to talk, his phone beeped. He took a look and held back a curse word at the name that appeared on the screen.

"Emily?" you asked while you read the twinkling screen, and you were well aware what that meant. He nodded, his lips pursing in anger, he stared a couple of seconds longer, and finally he decided to leave the phone face down on the table. "Come on, Luke, don't be silly, I'm sure it's important." you grunted, taking the phone and picking up right away "Hey, Em." your boyfriend's boss greeted you with confusion "He's right here." you said before giving the phone to Luke.

He looked at you with disappointment, yet he took the device and pressed it to his ear "Yeah, boss. I understand. I'll be right there." he hung up the phone after the line went dead, and he made a frustrated movement with his hand.

"It's okay." you said reassuringly "I promise, we can discuss this when you come back."

You didn't exchange 'I love you's as you usually would, instead, he just grabbed the go-bag he had recently left on the floor and left through the same door he had just entered about half an hour ago.

He didn't call you the entire trip, not even to let you know he had landed safely, and sunk in your own deprecating thoughts, you didn't bring yourself to text him either.

The case was slightly complicated, and he knew he was going to be away for a little bit, still, he didn't gather the courage to call you to let you know. At least, not until the next day, when he was standing in the local precinct, being briefed about a crime, and his smartwatch started to vibrate with an alarm.

'Pill time!' the screen read. Since you had told him your pill schedule, he had set an alam himself to remind you to take it, even when he was away; he'd always take a second to call you and double check.

"Hey, Emily, I really need to make a call, do you mind if I step out for a second?" he asked apologetically.

"Lovers quarrel?" she brillantly deducted, but Luke couldn't bring himself to answer "Go. And, Luke, I know what this job can do to relationships. If you need to go back home, let me know." she reassured and he nodded in gratitude.

He moved away to a less concurred area to dial your number. He prayed you would still be content enough to pick up, and thankfully you did. "Hey" he said as soon as the call connected.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" you asked on the other side.

"Yeah, I just..." he made a slight pause "Have you taken your pills?" he inquired and you simply responded with silence; he quickly picked up on the cue "What did you have for breakfast?" he changed the question

"Half a bagel." you answered with slight shame, aware that he was probably judging you.

It angered him, honestly, that you couldn't take care of yourself, but at the same time, he knew, he struggled to understand, but he knew sometimes you just couldn't; what was really eating him was not that you didn't, it was that he couldn't be there to do it for you. "I'm coming home." he said resolutely.

"Luke, don't. I'm sorry, I'll try harder." you said, your voice starting to sound a little broken "I don't want you to end up resenting me if something happens with your job."

"What are you talking about?" he was taken aback by your confession "I could never resent you. I said something stupid, but at the end of the day I love you, and I want you to be okay."

"Sometimes it's just hard." you sobbed into the phone.

"I get it." he tried to comfort you. "Listen, we'll talk properly when I come back, but for now I need you to do me a favor. Get off the bed, drink at least one liter of water, take your pills, and for the love of god, order something to eat, and don't go sneaking bites to roxy." he said, his voice relaxing a little, coming out as his usual careless tone.

"Alright." your breath began to calm down "Thank you for being so patient with me."

"Hey, you love me enough to put up with my job, right?" he smiled to himself as he spoke "I can love you enough to be kind to that brain of yours."

[ouranbutworse]

Kyoya: I haven't gotten an F since I failed recess in second grade. I was a painfully boring child.

Kaoru: You're still boring now.

Kaoru: I hope Hikaru is okay, he can get pretty insecure when he's alone.

Hikaru at the other end of the school: Kaoru? KAORU?!

Mori: When Shania Twain says "let's go girls" I feel like I could kick a door off its hinges.

Tamaki: I wasn't sure what to get Antoinette for her birthday so I bought her the same Apple watch as me so we match.

Mrs. Ootori: Fuyumi, don't get pregnant. Getting pregnant with Kyoya was the worst mistake of my life.

Kyoya: I'm right here.

Mrs. Ootori: Oh right, I forgot. Apparently I tried to kick him away, like giraffes do at the zoo.

Kyoya: ... I'm doing so well emotionally.

Tamaki: Where do babies come from?

Yuzuru: Tamaki, I'm sure we've talked about this.

Tamaki: Yeah, but I'm blanking. Two guys, right?

Kaoru: Sorry, we have to leave early, Ageha's school called, she tried to play God at the science fair again.

Tamaki: I'll pay for your lunch, Haruhi!

Haruhi: Oh, okay.

Lunchlady: That'll be 100,000 yen.

Tamaki: ...What the fuck?

Mori: I love my friends. They never demand I speak. I can go nonverbal and listen to them like they're a podcast.

Kyoya: My smartwatch just congratulated me on my run and said I burned 300 calories... I was sat down eating a cheeseburger.

Tamaki: Hikaru, Kaoru, FBI agents don't hold hands!

Hikaru: These ones do!

Kaoru: Yeah, and they sleep in the same bed!

Honey: While we were in Boston I got this 10% off coupon, it saved me $90 at a bakery!

Mori: He saved $90 on a $900 purchase, and he's still happy about it.

Kyoya: Right, I'm leaving for my doctor's appointment. Please behave while I'm gone.

Kaoru: Still trying to find your soul?

Kyoya: Oh please, they gave up on that when I was less than a year old.

Hikaru: The oneesan from the train poster I fell in love with got pregnant, so I've been crying about that for a few nights now.

Kaoru: Next time, tell a therapist that instead of me.

Renge: Hey, what did you guys get for number twelve?

Kaoru: I got eighteen.

Haruhi: I got nine point five.

Hikaru: I got Abraham Lincoln... for some reason.

Hikaru: Can we ride our new scooters outside?

Kyoya: Do whatever, I'm not your mother.

Hikaru: Okay! Weee!

Kyoya: Not in the street!

Midwife: Halloween, what a day to go into labour, eh? I'll get a nurse to wipe the face paint off.

Reiko: No, I want to look like this. I put it on after I went into labour.

Akira: Hey, I just rolled over in bed and Hikaru is here with me. Is Kaoru with you?

Renge: Let me check... yes.

Akira: Great, I'll be there in ten to make the swap.

Kyoya: I'm getting blackmailed at school...

Fuyumi: What?!

Yuuichi: Nobody blackmails our baby brother but us!

Akito: Yeah, messing with Kyoya is a privilege, not a right!

[pixels-not-dreams]

splash || light x reader

Light pulls his hand away with a sharp inhale. He looks like he’s leaned against a stove, having forgotten that it was just on. It occurs to you that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him look surprised. It’s only a split second before he scowls at you. He doesn’t usually do that.

You look down. You’re sitting on the edge of Light’s desk, skirt pushed up to the tops of your thighs. This is, in and of itself, not unusual. Light has myriad ways of keeping his lackeys in line. Forcing you to work in various states of undress is one of his favorites. What is unusual, however, is that you had just pissed on the desk, the carpet, and Light’s hand.

You rewind the last ten minutes in your head, wondering how exactly you’d found yourself in a pool of your own piss in Light’s office. He had commanded you to sit on the edge of the desk with your legs apart. You don't wear anything under your skirts. Light forbids it.

He’d taken his middle and ring fingers, long and tan from playing tennis under the sun, and slid them easily into your cunt. Most people needed to be prepared for something like this; but you were so devoted to him that just being in his office made you wet enough to take him.

He hadn't been paying close attention. He'd been barking text-to-speech into his smartwatch when you realized you were going to come. Light didn't really care about your pleasure, really—it was clear that he enjoyed the activity as a demonstration of his mastery in all things.

Light often lets you finish, and other times leaves you hanging. He pulls his hand out of you and wipes his fingers on your shirt, or makes you lick them clean. He didn't seem to get off on this. You weren't entirely sure what he got out of it, but questioning Light never ended well for you.

“Kira-sama,” you’d squeaked, voice weak and airy as he pumped his right hand and snapped voice commands into the watch on his left. “If you keep going I’m going to—I’m going to—can you let me, this time?”

You didn't think he'd been listening, but he must have been, since he curled his fingers up inside you, pressed the heel of his hand to your clit, and made your eyes roll back in your head. That must have been when it had happened.

You'd had this happen before, alone with your hands between your legs in the shower or in bed, but never like this. Before, you hadn't even been sure what it was. Now it’s unmistakable. Your face burns.

Light casts his eyes down to his hand, the carpet, and back to you again. He looks agape. You haven't seen him like this—never.

He blinks slowly, once, twice, and in slow motion rears back. You brace. He brings his open hand to slap you across the face. It's wet, and still warm. You feel your teeth knocking against each other.

“Kira-sama,” you gasp, pressing your hand to your cheek. “That hurt.”

“Very good, Y/N,” he says. His voice is scathing. “It's what you deserve. Now I need to buy a carpet steamer.” He reaches behind you for a bottle of hand sanitizer and furiously pumps it into his palm. When he's done, he whips it at your head. You flinch just in time for him to miss by an inch.

“It was an accident,” you whisper.

“I don't care,” Light says before you can even get the words out. “This desk is cherry wood.” He sets his jaw and lunges forward, wrapping his hand around your waist and shoving you to the floor. The carpet is still wet when you break your fall with your hands.

He's right—it is disgusting. But you don't want to incur his wrath; not like this. You want to be punished, not hated, so you kneel obediently and duck your head.

“Kira-sama,” you say, folding your hands underneath your nose. “Forgive me. I was overcome with pleasure from your perfect hands. You were too good, too capable, and I lost control. I'm weak, I know. Please let me make it up to you.”

In a final show of submission, you bow your head all the way to the floor, resting your forehead on the tainted carpet.

“Get up, Y/N,” Light snaps. “Pathetic.”

You sit up. Your eyes are still closed. He's standing very close to you—you can smell his orangey cologne. You open your eyes and see the strain near his zipper. After all his puffery, he was hard the entire time. You wrap your arms around his leg, rest your cheek on his cock, and smile.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mum's the Word

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Note: Why did I do this?

Please let me know what you think <3

🍮🍮🍮

“I want to thank my assistant today,” you smile at the camera and gesture graciously to Princess, “she’s been lovely. We’ll be back tomorrow with more tips to create your perfect holiday meal. Hope you like latkes!”

You hit the button to end the live and sigh. Princess leans on the counter as you go to the tripod and disconnect your phone. She covers her mouth and spins suddenly, retching into the sink behind her. You lock your cell and go to fill a glass of water from the fridge.

“You okay?” You set the glass on the veined white marble.

“Fine,” she coughs and twists on the faucet, “I’m sorry. The stuffing smells delicious but it’s making me gag.”

“You talk to the doctor?” You bend your arm over the countertop and rub her shoulder.

“I… I haven’t even told Tony.”

“What?” How?” You look down at her shirt, it’s not entirely subtle but you suppose if someone wasn’t looking for it under the empire waist of her short dress, they might not realise. But surely he sees her in less.

“I keep my clothes on,” she pauses to sip from the glass of water, “if I… start it, he doesn’t bother with all that, you know? Just kinda speed it along. Keep his hands on my ass–”

“You can’t not tell him,” you keep your voice low.

“I know. Especially when I don’t fit in that hideous gown. Everyone will know.”

“So?”

“So,” she shrugs, “I’ll tell him. When I’m ready.”

“I’m not pressuring you, hun, but I’m tryna look out for you. You know I’m always here for you. But we both know, the longer you lie to him, the less likely he’ll let me be.”

She nods and frowns. She gulps down half the glass and dumps it, rinsing it out before placing it in the dishwasher. You watch her solemnly.

“Speaking of. My driver will be here soon,” she checks the smartwatch on her wrist; rose gold. It’s more than just a fitness tracker.

“Yeah, wish you could stay longer.”

“Me too,” she grumbles, “well, I could use some fresh air. Think I’ll wait outside.”

“Want me to wait with you?”

“No, no,” she waves you off, “I could use a few minutes before I go back.”

“Right, I get it,” you give her a hug and let her go reluctantly, “I’ll be checking in though. Alright? Tell Tony to let Peter know when you’re home.”

“Hm, yeah,” she utters flatly.

You give a bittersweet smile as she drags her feet away. You don’t follow her. You can tell she needs space, even from you. Your problem is thinking you can help everyone. It’s exactly how you ended up here.

“Kittyyyyyy!” Peter startles you as he grips your hips from behind.

“Jesus!” You exclaim and spin to face him. He promptly lowers his hands to your ass and gropes you with a growl, “where did you come from?”

“You’re so easy to sneak up on,” he winks as he wiggles his pelvis against you, “whatcha doin’?”

“Cleaning up,” you glance over at the remains of your cooking, “you’ll have to take all this down to the shelter again.”

“Not until I get a taste,” he insists, but you’re sure he’s not referring to the food.

“Princess is waiting for her driver, I should probably…”

“What isn’t she telling Tony?” He asks bluntly.

You blink and shake your head. His lips straighten. You should’ve known. He hears everything.

“I… don’t think we should get involved, Pete,” you smooth your hands across his chest, your ring gleaming beneath the lights.

“Seems you’re already involved. Keeping secrets. You know why that can’t happen,” his brown eyes bore into you hotly.

“I can’t…” you trail off helplessly.

He chuckles and lets his eyes drift down your body, then back up.

“I can hear the second heartbeat,” he says, “is that the secret?”

Your expression gives you away as your lips part. You snap your mouth shut and give a tiny nod.

“Please don’t say anything,” you bring your hands up to his neck and stroke your thumbs along his jaw, “please.”

“Mm,” his lips slant, “if you don’t want me to, kit, I won’t. Just makes me think… maybe we should start trying.”

Your eyes round and you bat your mascara coated lashes, “Peter, I’m a little old for that.”

“Not too old,” he holds you tighter, “if I can crawl up a skyscraper, I’m sure we can find a way to have a baby, don’t you?”

[iwaoiness]

It happens on the fourth day of the second week of the VNL. Akane Yamamoto finally gets the chance to interview Iwaizumi in person, who is happy to speak with her again and compliments her about her new role as a sports journalist at the renowned television network.

The interview flows in an engaging and even fun manner. All the questions focus on JNT, the most problematic players he has encountered, his routines, and his professional future with the team. Iwaizumi laughs at a few responses, and Akane really enjoys the conversation.

Then, Hajime's smartwatch starts to vibrate remembering the meeting with the technical team and the coach.

Akane apologizes and asks for just five more minutes, which Iwaizumi happily grants, postponing the alarm. She quickly reviews her notebook, sighing in relief when there is only one last question left to ask. She then looks up at the athletic trainer again, her smile widening.

"Iwaizumi-sensei, there is one last thing all the viewers want to know before we say goodbye and wish you the best of luck for the match against Poland. Since today is your birthday, what would be the perfect gift for you?" she asks, directing the microphone towards Iwaizumi.

Akane hopes he will respond with something as cool as winning today's match or securing first place in the tournament. Or perhaps he will simply wish for health and a bright future for the JNT. Or maybe he'll ask for a raise for being the professional babysitter of the monster generation. Or he might just laugh, unsure of what to wish for.

What Akane doesn't expect is for Iwaizumi to smile warmly and soft, his gaze fixed beyond her, and then to gesture in that direction with his chin.

"That."

In a flash, both Akane and the camera held by her cameraman swiftly turn around.

Near the billboards, just a few meters away, Oikawa Tooru is kneeling in front of a little girl no older than ten, scribbling on a towel resting on his thigh. He looks radiant, his hair tousled from his recent victory over Germany, his blue shirt clinging to his broad torso like a second skin, his new compression sleeves wrapping around his chiseled muscles of his arms, and his knee pads now resting at his ankles.

He smiles genuinely at whatever the little girl is enthusiastically telling him, oblivious to the camera and Hajime's gaze. When he finishes signing the towel, he hands it to her, and she squeals with delight, proudly showing it to her mother before giving Oikawa a high five and saying goodbye.

As Tooru stands up, a shy young boy approaches him, holding a volleyball under his arm and a black marker in his hand. And Oikawa greets him with the same genuine happiness as before.

Both the cameraman and Akane return to Hajime. The journalist, cheeks flushed, closes her mouth, which she had unconsciously left open, and blinks at Iwaizumi like an owl. He looks at her, amused, with his hands in his pockets.

"Isn't my gift so pretty?"

That segment of the interview goes viral within days (just a few weeks before the All Star Match, for Kuroo's delight). Countless theories are published, the most popular being the true meaning of the ring Oikawa always ties to his shoelaces during every match—not a good luck charm, but a real engagement ring (Tooru didn't help by responding to the entire thread with a simple o(≧▽≦)o). A certain Hanamaki begins accepting interviews (with payment upfront, of course) only to answer ambiguously and send greetings to his mother from various networks. A certain Matsukawa gives away I <3 IwaOi shirts with the purchase of a coffin. And Oikawa finally re-uploads all the photos with Iwaizumi to his public account, from the selfie where Tooru playfully bites Hajime's cheek while he laughs, to the photo of his hand on Iwaizumi's solid, muscular, and broad back, his long fingers caressing the scratches at the height of his shoulder blades and the trail of hickeys on his neck.

...

every june day it's iwa's day

u can find me on my ao3 🍉

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 1 - Convenience ▸Shigaraki x femReader

Summary: “Say, I’ll make you a killer deal,” he begins, the tone of his voice deceptively even, failing to mask the coldness. “If you fucking apologize to me right now, and manage to clear things up with the professor before—” He slides his sleeve just above his expensive-looking smartwatch and casually checks the time, “—the class ends, in about… mmh, give or take three minutes? I promise you won't regret this as much as you will if you do go through with this stupid shit you started with me.”

His face breaks into a slow and creepy smile as he threatens you, body emanating nothing other than incredible malice.

You wish you could turn back time and never cross his path, that stupid night at the store.

You wish you were a different, nicer person, one that knows when to bow their head or to apologize if they messed up.

But you weren’t and you won’t. Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three

Chapter 1 - Convenience Pitter-patter.

With a pop of your joints, you reach for the moon or the ceiling or maybe the gods above. You reach and you reach and finally you feel that satisfying stretch burn through your muscles.

What time is it anyway?

Uh-oh.

You cringe, because the birds are chirping, the first light of the day is starting to show, and because… you’ve been gaming your entire fucking Saturday night.

It’s 4:30 AM when you check your phone.

—And you could’ve been studying, could’ve been in touch with your project buddies, to at least send them your part of the project in time. But you didn’t and you won’t.

Not at least until tomorrow anyway.

Tomorrow, probably around ten minutes before your group’s deadline.

Yeah, you’re that special kind of asshole.

Looking around yourself, you realize that—all of the sudden, the room feels so fucking stuffy you could suffocate. It’s messy and god fucking knows when you opened your goddamn windows last.

So that’s exactly what you decide to spend your next action point on, as your mind briefly wandered back to your past few Valorant matches. 

You actually stayed up late, trying your best to climb to Diamond and dealing with the hyper-misogyny of random pathetic incel teammates who immediately shit themselves the moment a woman opens her mouth on mic.

Whatever.

At least you weren’t living in your mommy’s basement, swimming in a sea of trash, right?

You glance around your room and wince.

Okay, maybe you’re swimming in like—a puddle of trash. 

But that’s okay, because you’re definitely way above those goblins on a societal level… right?

You don’t dwell very much on that particular thought.

With a yawn, you reach for the windows and open them wide. The cool air of soft autumn rain invades your stale room the second you open them, replacing the warm stuffiness of your man-cave and filling your lungs with fresh oxygen.

You wonder how long it’s been raining for already, when you feel your stomach—the one vital organ you’ve purposefully been ignoring all night—growling. What did you eat today?

When the fuck did you eat last, actually?

“Uuugh—” you whine, finally feeling the shakiness of your hands and the overall weakness of your body. 

On your way towards your joke of a kitchen, you decide what flavor cup noodles to scarf down quickly before you hit the hay. Your internal debate is torn between two particular flavors, before you open the cupboard and realize—there aren’t any instant noodles left.

God fucking damn it.

You briefly glance down over your sorry excuse of an outfit—one that would put homeless people to shame—made up of plain black sweats and an oversized black hoodie, noting how you should also maybe perhaps take a fucking shower after literally sweat-gaming all day.

Fuck it, you think, taking a total of two seconds to decide that this was good enough for the world, before you set off to the nearest twenty-four hour convenience store.

So you grab your phone, your keys, and that’s what you do.

────────

Despite the hints of a rising sun, it’s still pretty dark outside. The air smells like fresh morning rain and wet concrete.

You don’t mind, because to your own delight, it couldn’t be quieter around here.

The neighborhood you live in is incredibly sketchy, but you couldn’t complain given it’s barely a fifteen minute walk to your university and the rent to your rundown one-bedroom apartment is dirt fucking cheap.

It suits the broke ass bitch that you are and you like it this way—one, because you have a thing for sketchy run-down places and two… because it’s yours and yours alone.

The totally-legal-and-definitely-wont-blind-you pepper spray you bought from the shadiest internet store sits snugly in the pocket of your hoodie, one hand occasionally fidgeting and feeling the rim of the object. 

Knowing you have something to use in your defense makes you feel safer when you’re outside. You never know when something unpleasant could go down.

You’re so used to being on-guard after all the years of shitty experiences. 

Of being on your own.

Of stupid shit that kept happening to you.

So you walk, if only with a smear of anxiety, because you still need to stay vigilant and not put the universe to a fucking test.

The first thing you notice when you waltz into the corner store, is how goddamn bright the fluorescent lights are. They’re far too bright for your tired eyes that are used to endless hours of staring into dimmed screens with the lights off.

The second thing you notice is how eerily quiet it is inside—save for the whirring, clicking and occasional gurgling of the refrigerators in the back. Or at least that’s where you think the sounds come from.

It’s odd that the current shift didn’t think of turning on the radio to fill the silence—to make this place feel less like a ‘bad end’ location from a horror game—but a quick glance towards the staff at the counter and their wireless earpieces tells you that they couldn’t give less of a fuck about the store’s ambiance.

Not that it matters, when you’re too busy surveying the shelves in search of some food, of something edible, the ‘food’ in question consisting mostly of snacks and other nutritionless garbage that would give nine point five out of ten doctors a cardiac arrest.

Speaking of heart failure, you find yourself in front of the refrigerated drink aisle, using all of your brain wrinkles to make your hardest decision yet.

Which one of the canned heart attack flavors are you gonna buy today?

You hum, spending a good three minutes (give or take) thinking, and when you finally go ahead, reaching with your fingertips to grab the energy drink—

“Hey,” a low and grating voice speaks right behind you.

The sound makes you fucking jump.

You turn around with a scowl and then—straight out of a comedy skit, you feel like you’re staring at your male doppelgänger.

An extremely sketch-looking guy, wearing black sweats that match your own, the hood of his equally dark colored hoodie up and covering a messy mop of white hair.

And then you notice his… his intense crimson colored eyes, drilling a hole through the middle of your fucking skull.

If only looks could kill.

“Did you need something?” You fail to mask the venom in your voice, aimed at him for no good reason.

A skin care routine, you think.

Not like you bothered with one either, but at least your face isn’t disintegrating into disgusting flakes yet, unlike his punk ass.

Motherfucker couldn’t have waited two fucking minutes for you to pick something? 

Where the fuck do you have to be at like 4:50 in the morning?!— you scoff, but the words remain yet unspoken.

The hooded figure raises his hand to scratch at his pale neck, seemingly annoyed at your shitty attitude towards him. 

He just has to meet the worst type of bitch at this ungodly hour, on a Saturday no less—and he isn’t having it. 

Red eyes stare you down for a moment, watching your face scrunch up at his sight.

“You’ve been standing in front of the drinks for like ten fucking minutes, ugly ass bitch.” He finally claps back, and with that, your eyes narrow. “Pick something or get the hell outta my way.”

“I was just about to, asshole,” you reply, voice betraying you and ultimately cracking while you seethe. “Grab your stupid ass drink so you can finally go home to the boys and cry about not getting any.” 

You finish your sentence and stand aside for him, motioning to the drinks all the while his eyes widen in what you presumed to be shock—but before he has the chance to respond, you hurry the fuck up and leave.

The poor employee at the counter who saw the scene playing out (store ain’t that big, now), seems to want nothing to do with any of this. Graveyard shifts must be really fucking fun when you’re graced with not one, but two annoying idiots.

You drop all of your items on the counter and while the cashier is scanning them, you pat all four of your pockets, looking for your wallet to pay.

Until it dawns on you.

No fucking way—

Ain’t no fucking way your stupid, braindead ass forgot to bring money.

This isn’t fucking happening to you right now.

Especially since the embodiment of patience is standing just a few inches behind you, shifting uncomfortably from one leg to the other and waiting with bated breath for you to finally pay and get lost.

“Uhh. Do—Do you guys keep tabs open?” you ask, recoiling at the sound of your own voice, scratching at the back of your head sheepishly and almost whispering the second half so the guy behind you wouldn’t be able to hear it. “I kind of… forgot my wallet at home.”

The cringe that is already coursing through your veins, deepens infinitely when you see the employee stare at your face, as if you grew a second head.

“No.”

Your humiliating predicament makes the guy behind you break into the creepiest snicker. You shoot him a glare and dare him to say something, but he’s too busy laughing at you.

God, if only the ground would swallow you whole, right fucking now.

With the worst shades of shame coloring your face, you turn around to leave, swearing to never set foot in this fucking establishment ever again. Nevermind that it’s the only store close to your house.

Before you have the chance to make good on your promise, the white haired guy reaches out—if a bit hesitant—and grabs your arm.

What’s the chance a nuke would crash into this fucking store and wipe out your entire existence, together with whoever is here to fucking witness this? Or maybe aliens could finally make contact with planet Earth and take you the fuck away. Getting your ass probed sounds infinitely more appealing than this incredible embarrassment you feel in front of the two assholes.

“Hold.”

Your pathetic gaze lifts from the ground and when you meet his eyes he looks—amused?

“What. Let go of me, man.” You panic, trying to free yourself from his grip, but his fingers are firm. Is that blood under his fingernails?

“I’ll pay,” he offers, a disturbing smirk playing on his dry lips.

This fucking guy.

“N-No, I’m good. Thanks.” Your voice is shaking more than you want it to and you feel tears finally prick at your eyes.

Why do you live your life this way? Why are you so fucking pathetic—especially in front of assholes like him?

Why are you still so weak? 

After everything you’ve been through?

You try once more to shake him off of you, but he’s deceptively strong for his build, and doesn’t relent now that he’s got you where he wants you to be.

“It’s okay, really. This just made my night so I’m gonna pay for ya,” he says, the almost-even tone in his voice not matching the way his creepy smile seems to be getting wider.

He swiftly pulls out some scrunched-up bills from the pocket of his sweats, slipping them to the employee who could not give less of a fuck about whoever pays first, grabbing your already-bagged purchase and basically shoving it to you as he gives his best ‘Come again soon!’ bullshit line that actually translates to ‘Please fucking leave the store already’.

“How about that, huh? Now you owe me one, little bitch,” he whispers into your ear, voice low and full of grit sending chills down your spine and rendering you absolutely speechless.

Without sparing you so much as a second glance, he finally pays for his own shit and leaves the store in a smug stride.

You could basically read the “EZ” he wrote in slash all chat while destroying your fucking nexus.

What a horrible fucking night, you think to yourself, hurrying to go home as well.

Your only comforting thought being that you wouldn’t have to see his stupid fucking pasty face ever again.

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 2

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T (for now, might change, might not)

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, he is a bit of a dick though, more tags to come as the story develops

Word Count: ~1800 (literally double last chapter, lol)

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked and commented on the first chapter! If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please don't hesitate to ask!

And thanks so much to @theradioactivespidergwen for the adorable divider!

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705

You checked your smartwatch for the time as you rushed down the sidewalk towards Daredevil. Your GPS had told you that it'd be faster to walk there from the Bulletin than take a cab given the time of day, but you were starting to wonder if maybe you should've taken your chances.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you spotted the restaurant up ahead then slowed a bit so you could catch your breath before reaching the entrance. Okay. It's fine, I'm on time, I got this.

You looked up at the restaurant. Daredevil was displayed in dark red lettering above the entranceway, with different patterns of dots underneath each letter. Huh. Interesting choice.

You reached for the door handle and pulled, only to find it locked. Shit.

You looked at the sign next to the door. 

Hours of Operation:

Sunday: 11 AM - 2 PM

Monday: Closed

Tuesday - Thursday 5 PM - 10 PM

Friday - Saturday: 5 PM - 12 AM

You reached into your purse to call the restaurant… only to realize that you had left your cell phone sitting on your dresser at home.

You sighed. Great.  

"Can I help you?"

You turned as a pretty blonde-haired woman walked up and unlocked the door. "Oh, um, yeah, I hope so."

You dug a business card out of your wallet and handed it to her. "I'm with the New York Bulletin . I'm supposed to be interviewing Chef Murdock in a minute, but I left my phone at home so I'm unable to let him know I'm here."

The woman's eyebrows raised as she looked at your business card. "You're interviewing Matt?"

"Um, yes?"

The woman narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously. "Just a second, I'll be right back."

You waited as the woman went inside and locked the door behind her.

A few minutes later she returned and unlocked the door, this time with a friendly smile on her face.

She held the door open for you. "Come on in."

"Thanks." You stepped inside.

"I'm Karen," the woman said. "I run front-of-house."

"Nice to meet you," you replied.

Karen led you to a table near the right corner of the front entrance. "Matt'll be right out. Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?"

You shook your head. "Oh, no thank you, I'm fine."

"Okay, if you change your mind, let me know."

"I will, thank you."

You took your notepad and pen out of your purse, silently cursing yourself again for leaving your phone -- which was your only audio recording device -- on your dresser.

Since you couldn't even continue your brief research on Chef Murdock while you waited, you looked around instead.

The walls were all painted a soft white with the exception of the back wall, which was exposed brick with a built-in fireplace running along the middle of it. Side tables holding bottles of wine were the only choice of decor, giving the space a simplistic look.

You kind of liked it.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty… then thirty. What is the holdup, you thought to yourself. Surely he can't be that busy since they're not open for service yet .

You were just about to get up to go ask Karen if Chef Murdock had forgotten you were there when the kitchen door opened and Chef Murdock himself came strolling out.

His photo really hadn't done him justice -- his biceps strained against the sleeves of his chef's jacket and his jawline looked like it could cut glass.

Your eyes trailed up to his, which were hidden by the same red-tinted sunglasses he had been wearing in his photo. 

You swallowed and stood as he approached, sticking your hand out for him to shake as you introduced yourself. "Mr. Murdock, thank you for meeting with me. I was told that you don't do interviews."

He ignored your hand and sat. "I don't usually, but it seems like this one was… unavoidable. And it's Chef Murdock. I didn't spend three and a half years in culinary school to be called Mr. "

You hesitated before sitting and looking down at your sparse notes. "Okay, well then. Um, Chef Murdock, I'd like to start with a few questions, if you don't mind."

"Mmm."

You took a deep breath. "Okay, so you're a Michelin star chef, correct?"

"Three." 

You looked up at him again. "Excuse me?"

"I'm a three Michelin star chef."

"Oh. Um, excuse me." Asshole . "As a three Michelin star chef, what made you want to open a restaurant here in Hell's Kitchen? Why not somewhere like Manhattan?"

"I was born and raised here in the Kitchen."

You smiled up at him. "Oh, so do your parents still live here? They must be very proud."

Chef Murdock raised an eyebrow. "Well they probably would be, except my mother abandoned me as an infant and my father was murdered shortly after the accident that blinded me as a child, which you would know if you had bothered to do a modicum of research."

Your eyes widened, your smile quickly falling from your face. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry." That at least explained the glasses and the dots on the signage out front. It's Braille. "I had no idea, I --"

"-- didn't bother to come prepared, yes, that much is clear." Chef Murdock crossed his arms. "If this is the sort of unprofessionalism that everyone who works at the Bulletin shows, then I'm not sure I should be sitting down with one of their reporters. We're done here."

You opened your mouth to protest as Chef Murdock stood and stalked off, shocked that he had suddenly stopped the interview before it even had really started. 

You stood and put your notepad and pen in your purse, fighting back tears. What the hell just happened?

This was the first time you had ever failed at an interview -- you were known for both your professionalism and your ability to get to know your subjects on a deeper, more personal level in order to get them to open up to you.

You headed back to the lobby of the restaurant, willing yourself to not cry while you were still in the building.

Karen smiled over at you. "All done?"

"Um, yeah," you mumbled. "Could you let me out, please?"

"Sure thing." Karen unlocked the door for you, looking at you curiously. "Hey, are you okay?"

You shook your head. "Fine, fine, just gotta go."

You pushed past her and exited the restaurant, waiting until you had made it into the alley next to it before you burst into tears.

Matt sighed as he took his glasses off and tossed them onto his desk. At least that's over . He hadn't gotten to where he was by half-assing anything and he certainly wasn't going to let anyone ruin what he had worked so hard to rebuild, especially some so-called 'journalist' who couldn't even bother to do some simple research before sitting down for an interview.

"What the hell did you do, Matt? Karen just told me that that journalist from the Bulletin just ran out of here practically in tears."

Matt looked up and crossed his arms in front of his chest as Foggy's familiar footsteps stopped in front of his office. "She came completely unprepared, Foggy. I wasn't going to waste my time sitting down with someone who couldn't even bother doing any sort of research before coming."

"That's because she hadn't had time to do any! The interview needed to happen right away because of deadlines and stuff for the paper so it got sprung on her at the last minute, just like I sprang it on you at the last minute."

He paused as Karen's footsteps approached. "Kare, do you still have Ms. Taylor's business card? Maybe we can try to salvage this."

Taylor? "Wait a minute, who?" Matt replied confusedly. 

"Kelsie Taylor? The food writer from the Bulletin ?" Foggy sighed exasperatedly. Jesus, Matt, did you even try to remember her name?"

Matt shook his head, beginning to feel bad for being so harsh towards you. "That's not who she said she was."

"Matt's right, it definitely wasn't her," Karen added. "At least, that wasn't the name on the card she gave me."

"Who was she then?"

Matt said your name. "She did say she was with the Bulletin though."

"Her card's on the front podium," Karen said. "I'll go get it."

Foggy turned back to Matt as Karen left. "You never were going to do the interview, were you?"

Matt winced. The last time he had agreed to any kind of journalistic endeavor had ended in disaster and almost complete ruination of his culinary reputation, and quite honestly he was terrified of it happening again. "I was , but --"

Foggy groaned. "Don't even give me that bullshit, Matt. Do you know how hard I had to work to even get you that interview? They were going to give the front page to Fisk , of all people!"

Wilson Fisk, who owned Kingpin's, had been suspected of being behind several popular restaurants' sudden closures (more than one being due to 'mysterious' kitchen fires), as well as having bought most, if not all, of the positive hype and accolades he and his restaurant had received. 

Matt scowled. He would be damned if he was going to let that bastard steal the spotlight out from underneath him. "Fisk? Really? He's not even a real chef! His sous comes up with most of his recipes, he just modifies it a bit and slaps his name on it."

"All the more reason for you to get that front page interview."

Matt heard Karen's footsteps approach again. "Got her card?"

"Yeah, it's right here," Karen replied.

Matt could smell the subtle scent of your perfume as Karen passed Foggy your business card -- something lightly floral with a hint of vanilla.

Foggy read your name off of your business card. "This says she's the Features writer."

Matt's brow furrowed. "Features? You said the food writer was doing the interview."

"I assumed she was but I guess since it was a front-page article they wanted someone else to do it." Foggy pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped at his screen. "Hang on, I'm gonna pull up the Bulletin staff."

Matt waited as Foggy pulled up the list of staff then tapped on your name. "Is this her?" he asked Karen, presumably showing her your picture.

"Yeah, that's who it was," Karen replied.

Matt nodded as his watch beeped with the time. "We have to get ready to open, but I'm going to go over to the Bulletin 's office in the morning to see if I can talk to her and straighten everything out."

He just hoped you accepted his apology.

[cardiacreports2]

Paramedic Report

Incident Number: 2024-07-08-DK-0562 Patient Name: Darren Kozlowski Age: 31 Sex: Male Height: 6’1” Weight: Approx. 185 lbs Date of Incident: July 8, 2024 Time of Call Received: 10:12 AM

Incident Description: Emergency services were dispatched to a trail located in Riverbend Park following an alert from the patient’s smartwatch, which detected a suspected cardiac event. Bystanders reported finding the patient collapsed approximately 1.3 miles into the trail. The patient was unresponsive and pulseless upon paramedic arrival at 10:22 AM.

Initial Assessment:

Airway: Clear

Breathing: Apneic

Circulation: No palpable pulse; asystole confirmed on ECG

Skin Condition: Cool, pale, diaphoretic

Interventions (On-Site):

CPR initiated: High-quality chest compressions performed immediately upon arrival.

Defibrillation: Delivered one shock (200J) following identification of ventricular fibrillation (VF) on ECG. VF converted to sinus rhythm; ROSC (Return of Spontaneous Circulation) achieved at 10:27 AM.

Medications Administered:

1 mg Epinephrine IV every 3–5 minutes during CPR (3 doses given).

300 mg Amiodarone IV push following initial shock.

Transport to Hospital:

Time En Route: 15 minutes

Condition During Transport: Patient deteriorated en route, suffering a second cardiac arrest at 10:33 AM. Aggressive CPR was resumed with defibrillation (2 shocks, 200J each) and ROSC achieved at 10:38 AM.

Vital Signs Pre-Hospital Arrival:

Heart Rate: 48 bpm (weak, irregular)

Blood Pressure: 72/50 mmHg

SpO2: 82% (on 100% O2 via BVM)

Hospital Arrival:

Time of Arrival: 10:44 AM

Patient presented with recurrent arrhythmia, hypotension, and altered mental status. Handoff provided to ER staff for advanced resuscitation.

Autopsy Report

Patient Name: Darren Kozlowski Case Number: ME-2024-894 Age: 31 Sex: Male Date of Death: July 8, 2024 Time of Death: 11:03 AM Performed By: Dr. Laura Mendelson, MD, Forensic Pathologist Location: County Medical Examiner’s Office

External Examination:

Height: 6’1”

Weight: 185 lbs

Build: Lean and fit; well-developed musculature.

Hair: Short blonde hair and beard.

Eyes: Blue.

Distinguishing Features: None noted.

External Trauma:

Rib fractures (bilateral, 3rd–6th ribs) consistent with CPR.

Bruising along the sternum.

Minor abrasions on knees and hands from collapse.

No other injuries identified.

Internal Examination:

Heart:

Weight: 375 grams (normal range: 280–340 grams).

Severe coronary artery disease identified:

95% occlusion of the left anterior descending artery (LAD).

80% occlusion of the right coronary artery (RCA).

Evidence of acute myocardial infarction (MI) involving 40% of the left ventricle, with microscopic examination confirming recent myocardial necrosis and hemorrhage.

Mild left ventricular hypertrophy noted (wall thickness: 1.5 cm).

Lungs:

Pulmonary congestion and edema (weight: 750 grams per lung).

No evidence of pulmonary embolism.

Other Organs:

Liver: Mild steatosis.

Kidneys: Acute tubular necrosis, likely secondary to hypoperfusion during cardiac arrest events.

Brain: Mild cerebral edema, no gross signs of anoxic injury.

Toxicology Results:

Negative for alcohol, illicit drugs, and prescribed medications.

Positive for mild caffeine levels consistent with normal consumption.

Cause of Death: Acute myocardial infarction due to severe coronary artery disease, complicated by multiple cardiac arrests.

Manner of Death: Natural.

Pathologist’s Summary: The decedent, a 31-year-old male, succumbed to complications from a severe heart attack while running. Advanced resuscitation efforts successfully restored circulation twice; however, irreversible cardiac damage and circulatory collapse led to his death. Contributing factors include undiagnosed atherosclerosis and left ventricular hypertrophy, suggesting a predisposition to cardiac events under physical exertion.

[mushrubes]

Faint

Masterlist | The walking dead Masterlist

Requested : No

Inspired by faint by @/lulushoeshoe on tik tok!!

Pairing : Rick Grimes x reader (No use of Y/n)

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Contents : slightly canon divergent / different timeline (Certain things that wouldn't be there are involved), idiots in love, soft Rick :)

Word count : 646

Have a great day / night !!

——–

"You have a visitor." Michonne smirked, walking into the kitchen to let Rick know. You trailed behind her, leaning on the doorframe as he handed Judith over to her before she sent you a smile and headed outside where Carl was waiting for them. "Are you excited to see me?" You teased, grinning at the man as he shook his head, a small smile on his face. "No, I already saw you yesterday." he huffed, a playful tone evident in his voice. Your eyes settled on the new smartwatch that was on his wrist, and an idea came to your head.

You walked over, sitting on the stool opposite him as he waited for the coffee maker to finish. "Let me see your watch." you asked, tilting your head slightly. He looked back at you in confusion. "What?" he questioned, hesitantly holding it out. "Pull up your heart rate." you demanded, biting your tongue as you swore you saw his cheeks redden. "Why would I pull up my heartrate?" he wondered, trying to not get flustered. He shook his head, moving to the hallway and picking up his boots. "Just do it." you huffed, folding your arms and following behind him.

"This is so dumb. We have to go now." he excused, getting slightly anxious as he knew the others would be waiting for the two as they had planned to tag along on a run. "Hey, relax, we'll make it ton time. Show me." you assured, pressing your hand to his shoulder as his body immediately stopped being tense. "Fine." he grumbled, giving in and pulling the app up. The two of you waited a few seconds for it to read, a smug look on your face. "Ha! If you said you're not excited to see me, why is your heartrate so high?" you asked, knowing you were right. "I...watched a horror movie before you came. That's why." he came up with on the spot, knowing you wouldn't fall for it.

"Yeah? With Carl and Judith? It really stuck with you, huh?" you smirked, rolling your eyes at him as he tied his laces before standing up and opening the door, letting you go first. "Yeah, uh..." he paused, thinking of a character to use. "The ghost's face still exists in my mind." he continued, putting up the facade and not backing down, his face betraying him. "Hmm. Why'd you lie?" you interrogated, grinning as he got flustered. "I didn't lie! I'm being serious." he argued, walking down the stairs as you followed swiftly behind him.

"Your mind can come with lies Grimes, but your heart can only tell the truth." you mocked, earning a sigh from him as you chuckled at the look of defeat plastered on his face. "Okay, fine, so what if I was excited to see you?" he huffed, eyes on the ground as the pair of you made your way through the town. "It's just funny messing with you. It's cute to see you act all calm and collected around me." you mocked, Rick scoffing at the dig. "How are you so calm?" he wondered, trying to find a single sign of even a tiny bit of being flustered but failing.

"I'm not. Here, feel how fast my heart is beating." you admitted, grabbing his hand and placing it on top of your chest. "It feels like you're running a race." he chuckled, his gaze lingering on you slightly longer than normal, feeling your cheeks heat up. "See we're both trying out best to stay cool." you shrugged, turning to carry on walking as he followed. "Just don't faint on me." he joked, winking at you. "Wow. You think you can make me faint?" you gasped, pretending to be hurt. "Oh, I'll bet money on it." he added smugly, freezing as you reached up and kissed his cheek.

"You're on."

[xarrixii]

F/B Chapter_42 : "Pull Over"

CW: arguing previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

/ / / / / | ---

So why can’t you just, Harlow gestured vaguely with his free hand, teleport wherever?

Liam cocked his head. I can’t just teleport somewhere I’ve never been. If you wanted to drive yourself to a bakery in Yugenzia, it’s probably pretty important you know what that bakery looks like. ‘Cause they’ve got technology bans. That’s how it is with teleporting. Also, it’s a lot of mental math. It’s tiring. Harlow hummed lightly aloud, finishing the pat-down on the unconscious guard and then swiping their blue Storm smartwatch. Liam had explained a while ago that they were essentially Storm’s version of Cinder’s arm sleeves. They supplied access to Storm facilities. Then what about Hayton? The bank? You teleported like how many times in less than two minutes?

I’d scoped the teleport destination out beforehand, Liam relented. I’d been practicing for weeks to teleport myself into that spot from anywhere in that general area. I knew where it was and had it logged into my brain.

You were also teleporting back into the truck. As it was moving unpredictably.

That doesn’t mean I enjoyed it. GPS on the truck really helped. Running after Raiden when they found out was equally a pain in the ass. Liam zip-tied the final guard’s hands together, waiting for Harlow to stash their watches away. “They always been able to use fire like that? Raiden, I mean.”

“Like what?” Harlow snapped the bag closed where they were storing all of the Storm watches from this run-through.

“On their feet. To move faster. Think sending rockets to space.”

Harlow took a deep breath in. He didn’t recall anything like that. Especially not when they ran from anyone. I’ll think about it. He shook it off. No, no. No.

A trill ran through the building as soon as Liam raised an eyebrow. Liam cursed. “Son of a bitch. We still have to see if Raiden’s here. Okay. You guard the entrance, I’ll check the cell block⸺”

Harlow stifled down a thought and nodded, cringing to himself regardless as Liam ran through the door into the cell block.

He allowed the lighter to swerve out of his bag with his hand, to click open and let the small flame move in the air as he hopped on the desk into the blind spot from the doorway, which was behind a cabinet. Liam’s dashing across metal heard on the side with the cell block. Someone getting knocked onto the surface, hard.

Slowly, Harlow whisked the fire from the lighter down into his hand with one finger sliding up and down the metal box. Heating it up ever so slowly.

The lighter itself appeared empty.

He jumped down at the first person to come in, lightly brushing a finger against their temple and catching them with his other hand before they smacked into the floor, setting them to the side.

Rinse and repeat with a different finger each time.

“TP in 3!” Liam yelled from behind him. Three seconds later, there was a hand on his arm and he was standing in a parking garage several blocks from the warehouse-made-cellblock.

Harlow turned to Liam, the lighter cracking to its closed state once more, sudden lack of warmth enveloping his hand biting in with early December.

“You’re getting...” Liam looked from Harlow to the lighter, something unspoken in the heavy cold air. “...Scarily good at doing Ainsley’s whole shtick. Keep that up, kid.”

Liam’s hand moved from off Harlow’s arm to hovering just above Harlow’s shoulder, and then it was jerked away. A weak fuck no don’t through mental passageway.

“Come on. Let’s move.”

Harlow got into the driver’s seat of the truck they’d driven down, setting the bag full of newly-stolen wristwatches into the backseat. Even though Liam’s hand hadn’t even touched the shoulder, the cold implant of someone else’s sat there. It grew numb quickly.

As did the drive back to Longport.

Liam eyed him as he turned on his left turn signal at an intersection around a third of the way back, then spoke, “Did you know the original tower meant more than just a home base to Amaterasu?”

“The one she had to slice in half?”

“Yeah.”

Harlow didn’t particularly think she had the capacity to feel anything. “No. I didn’t.”

“Well,” Liam started again, “it’s pretty much been her home since she gave birth to Raiden. She helped build it with her own two hands, believe it or not. She was very intimately involved before Cinder got super big. It was a bit after I joined she realized shit was getting real and stepped up to her brain-of-the-operation role. Where she sits now.”

“Why Longport?” Harlow asked. Liam made a noise of confusion mixed with surprise. “I mean, why’d she choose Longport, of all the cities to make the tower? There are way more crime-riddled cities nearby.”

“Uh,” Liam got a bagel out of a bag sitting in the glove compartment. “Raiden.”

He watched Liam proceed to eat half the bagel in silence in his peripheral, staring forward into the road. Harlow let out a low chuckle. “You... do understand how little that explains, right?”

“If you promise not to tell her you know.”

“Not even if I’m getting ripped apart.”

“Morbid.”

“Explain.”

Liam snickered and set the rest of the bagel on the dash. “She may not act like it, but before she joined Cinder she really wanted to take care of Raiden. She wanted to be there for her kid as long as they needed and then go look for the family she ditched. But Morgen found her first, and she knew Nacht wasn’t the kind of person you could allow to run around without anyone keeping him in check.” Liam gazed wearily at Harlow. “So she gave up her kid, but she made sure they lived good. I think half the time I’d find her outside of Cinder around eighteen or whatever was because she would go out and give Raiden’s dad earfuls. Anyway—she chose Longport because it meant being close to her kid.”

Harlow’s first instinct was to ask himself if Raiden would do the same in Storm. To stick around Longport just to be nearby. To continue asking if Harlow would join their new cause. I’ll think about it.

Idiot. Way to let them down slowly.

“Okay,” Liam sighed as Harlow’s hand tightened on the wheel. “Pull over.”

“Why?”

“My bowels are assholes.”

Harlow frowned, but pulled into the next open space to park in the side lane before turning to look at Liam as he didn’t exit the truck. Liam crossed his arms, instead.

“You said you had to piss.”

“Yeah, and I’m a liar.” Liam stared Harlow up and down. “I told Jackstalk you were impulsive. And emotional. But I also told him I trusted you. I’m beginning to think you’ve tried to string me for a fool and that I shouldn’t have told him that.”

“The electrokinetic guy? The one that knocked me out for a few days?”

“Yeah, that one. The one that’s fuckin’ amazing at spotting talent. The kind you’re throwing away right now. I’m actively losing credibility.” Liam lets out a low chuckle and turns up the radio. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Harlow sucked in a breath.

“I’m over here, busting my ass off playing your stupid pretend game that we’re still gonna find Raiden in a cell somewhere while Amaterasu’s trying to make you A-4. Do you know how long it takes a normal member to get A-4? A year. You’ve barely been A-5 for three months and she’s probably filing the paperwork right now. You’re being an idiot!”

“I’m not playing a pretend game⸺”

“Then explain what the hell that memory in your head just now was.”

Harlow’s hand turned white on the steering wheel. “Stay the fuck out of my head. Yes, Raiden’s free, okay? Is that what you wanted? You got it. We don’t have to look for them anymore.”

“This isn’t about Raiden being free,” Liam continues yelling, “it’s about the principle that you actively chose to keep information from Cinder regarding its current tasks and Storm’s personnel. It’s about the fact that someone said you were texting Raiden, and you just proved to me today that you’re willing to lie to my face to keep a secret for someone who is committing themselves to a dictatorial killing spree!”

Son of a—Harlow took a deep breath, taking his hand off the steering wheel to put his head in his hands. Liam turned down the radio again, taking a glance out at the sidewalk before leaning closer to Harlow.

“Look, kid, I know it’s hard. But you have to start thinking about this as life or death for this country. Raiden is a pawn now. They’re a chess piece in Nacht’s sick game, and we’re the same. We’re just on the other side of the board. You have to take this seriously. If Raiden’s not even out there to break free anymore, why are we spending time and resources devoted to that task? Storm got them. It’s time to let go.”

I’m trying to understand, Harlow thought, but I don’t.

And that’s okay, Liam responded mentally, wrapping a hand around Harlow’s lower arm. But I need to know I can trust you when it really comes down to it. That Amat can trust you. You’re on a slippery slope.

Harlow laughed aloud.

You tricked me into thinking about Raiden, didn’t you?

Liam smirked. “There he is. Let’s go, I’m missing the jambalaya in R&D.”

“Teleport yourself. Also, how’d you know I’d ask why she chose Longport?” Harlow jabbed Liam in the arm before kicking the truck into gear again.

“I didn’t. I was gonna explain it either way, you just beat me to it. Also, fuck you I’m not teleporting that far.”

“Asshole.”

“Ass, Urban, the correct word is ass.”

next chapter | masterlist

/ / / / / | --- missing a content warning? let me know

taglist (ask to go on or off): @lychhiker-writes, @madeoforgansandtissues, @fins0up

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Part 33: I Need to Survive

~2840 words

CW: negative self-talk, beating, broken bones, attempted murder, torture, vampire whump, gunshots, vampire feeding, vomit, mouth whump, non-sexual throat fuck with a foreign object??? fellas…

Also NO main character death!

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

“Mr Bowers, where are we going?”

Bowers glanced at Simon in the rearview.

“You’ll see.”

Simon huddled in the back seat as Bowers drove. He swore, he was never getting into the backseat of a car ever again. But he’d had no choice in this case; Bowers was a grade B vampire, and could easily snap Simon in half if he wanted to. Running was not an option on his ruined feet. Simon had let the vampire tuck him into the backseat and buckle him in like a child, and could only hope that cooperating would make whatever was about to happen as painless as possible.

He was doing his best to not think about what might be coming, but with Bowers refusing to answer his questions Simon had nothing to do but think as he shivered in the backseat. The rain had turned the May night cold, and Simon’s thin pajamas did little to keep him warm.

What if he’s taking you to an initiation.

Simon watched Bowers carefully, and waited until he was looking away while making a turn to feel the item Nora had dropped into his pocket.

What if they’re going to pin you down and -

It was a small metal and glass square. An MP3 player? A smartwatch? Simon didn’t want to take it out and look.

He’s not preybonded to you and Lara’s rules are gone, he can kill you. He can kill you.

“Please,” His voice was steadier than he expected, “Tell me what’s happening.”

“I would,” Bowers replied flatly, “But you wouldn’t like it.”

Yeah, no shit.

Matthew wouldn’t have let this happen.

Simon screwed his eyes shut, flinching from the pang of guilt.

Matthew-the-vampire wouldn’t have let this happen. He’s human now, and that’s a good thing. Whatever happens is worth it. Him being human and alive is worth it.

You’re not.

You’re not worth it.

Simon stared out the window and hoped against hope that the square meant help was coming.

~~~

“We can’t just run off without authorization!” Amber yelled.

“Bowers could discover they’re being tracked any second!” Matthew bellowed, “We’re leaving now!”

He and Gina burst out of the stairwell and into the parking garage, Amber chasing after them.

“You’re going to get yourselves killed!” she shrieked.

“What if they get on a plane, huh?” Matthew snapped at her, “What if they go somewhere we can’t follow?”

“We will figure it out!”

They reached Gina’s car and Gina opened the passenger side.

“We can’t wait for Dune to decide that Simon’s worth it,” Matthew kept arguing while Gina searched through her glove box, “I’m not letting him be taken again.”

“Neither am I.” Gina rejoined him, loading a pistol.

“But Bowers is a grade B, he…” Amber’s outrage melted into fear. “With only the two of you against him… He’ll kill you.”

“You could make it three.”

“I…” Amber slowly shook her head.

“You’re a fucking coward, Amber,” Gina spat.

“No, I’m not!” Amber’s voice echoed through the garage, louder and angrier than they had ever heard. “You think anyone will come after you if I go with you? I need to be here, to convince them to send you guys backup!”

Gina and Matthew exchanged a glance. Amber was right - she was the only one in a position to sway the VIU.

“Here.” Amber unstrapped her holster from around her waist and handed it and the gun it held to Matthew.

“Thanks,” he said, softening.

“Just… Survive as long as you can, and I will send backup ASAP.”

Amber stepped out of the way and watched as Gina’s car pulled out of the parking garage.

Then she sprinted back into the building, determined to do what she could.

~~~

Simon slammed into the ground, bruising his knees and scraping his palms raw on the wet asphalt.

“Get up,” Bowers ordered, closing the car door.

“I can’t!” Simon gasped. Bowers grabbed his arm and hauled him upright. He was done playing games. Simon cried out when his feet were forced to touch the ground, but no one was around to hear him.

They were in some sort of warehouse district; massive buildings loomed out of the dark around them, and Simon hadn’t seen a soul on their way in. Whatever Bowers needed this level of privacy for couldn’t be good. Simon’s earlier shocked calm, necessitated to keep Nora alive, had worn off and now he was truly terrified, trembling in Bowers’ grip.

Bowers half dragged, half walked Simon to the door of the warehouse he’d pulled his car up in front of. He threw open the unlocked door and shoved Simon through. Simon fell into the dark, bruising his limbs a second time as he tried to brace his landing. A moment later lights flickered on above him; he was surrounded by sky-high shelves full of plastic-wrapped boxes. He rolled over to look at Bowers, still posed by the light switch. Simon’s heart pounded and his breath came fast.

“Here’s where I come clean.” Bowers reached down and plucked up a length of pipe from where it leaned against the wall, as if waiting for him. It was about three feet long and two inches in diameter, and made of aged dark metal. The ends glinted bright where they were sawn off. 

Bowers started to take leisurely steps towards Simon, who began to pull himself backward along the floor, eyes glued to the pipe.

No.

“Everyone’s noticed by now, since the humans got the cure, and our man Yarl is out, the vampires being caught the fastest are the ex-clients of one Miss Lara Everett.” He twirled the pipe around. “That’s no good for us. No good for business.”

Simon rolled over onto his hands and knees, desperate to get away, to get away faster.

“But of course, none of them can kill you… Not directly, anyway. But I can. So I’m cleaning up, Simon. I took care of Isles and… You’re next.”

Simon froze, petrified.

Christian… dead?

YOU’RE NEXT.

Charged with adrenaline, Simon dug his feet into the floor and ran. The pain ripped a cry out of his throat. He made it two steps before the pain in his feet and his overworked legs made him stumble. His skinned palms crashed into the concrete floor yet again, then his elbow when his right wrist collapsed. But Simon moved through the pain, pushing himself up onto his left hand and his battered knees with a gasp. He could still move, he could still -

Bowers’ shoe stomped into his back, flattening him back to the floor. Simon twisted his head to look up, one cheek pressed against the concrete. Bowers leaned down, putting more weight on Simon’s back and ribcage.

“And since I have to do it anyway,” he smiled, “I may as well enjoy it.” He stepped off of Simon and raised the pipe. Simon twisted his body to the side.

“Please, don’t-!”

The vampire brought the pipe down with a tremendous clang onto Simon’s left hip and a crack shot through Simon’s pelvis. Simon shrieked as the pain lanced up his spine and down his legs like white hot fire. He had no time to process the hit before the pipe came down again, smashing into his femur with a crunch. Simon tried to curl up, to hide from the excruciating pain, to expel it through his mouth, but the next hit shattered his left shoulder blade. His existence felt like one unending screech of agony as he writhed on the concrete under Bowers’ merciless gaze. Bile rose in his throat and he gagged, desperate to fall unconscious, desperate for it to end. He couldn’t even form the words to beg. He could only breathe, scream, breathe, scream.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to die.

“Fuck, you’re loud!” Bowers shouted over Simon’s ceaseless wailing, “Let’s see what we can do about that!”

He seized Simon by the neck and dragged him upright, his back against Bowers’ legs. This sent new waves of pain through Simon’s body as displaced nerves jostled against bone crushed against muscle. Bowers shifted his grip to Simon’s jaw, pulling his already screaming mouth open wider. He lifted the metal rod and shoved the end of it into Simon’s mouth, and pushed, the sharp metal edges tearing, ripping, scraping at the delicate tissue of Simon’s cheeks, his tongue, his throat, as Bowers forced the rod in further, not caring what damage he caused. Simon choked, on the rod, on the blood, on bits of flesh. His screams were finally stifled as he struggled to breathe. His arms flopped uselessly. His eyes rolled.

“Better,” Bowers grunted, “Much better.” He yanked the rod out, splattering blood, and dropped Simon back to the floor where he heaved and choked and spat out blood and chunks of his own throat. Gone was the screaming; now Simon could only agonizingly gag and wheeze.

Bowers raised the rod once more and brought it down on Simon’s right shoulder. Simon’s whole body jerked, but the only sound he made was a horrifying gurgle. He shouldn’t still be awake. He shouldn’t still be alive. It wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair. His brain reverted to primeval instincts: The danger is behind you. Crawl.

Simon dug his fingernails into the concrete and dragged himself, inch by inch, forward. It was the only thing he could do. Maybe, somehow, he could crawl away from the pain. Leave it behind.

Bowers stood back and watched Simon struggle, clawing at the floor until his fingernails broke. Going nowhere.

He laughed, and it echoed throughout the building.

BANG!

Matthew fired from where he stood by the door, gun raised and eyes full of fire. Bowers spun, his hand flying to his shoulder where blood burst from a bullet wound. He crouched and sprang back, taking shelter in an isle of shelves as another shot rang out. Matthew cursed and lowered his weapon, running forward towards Simon. Gina hung back, watching the room like a hawk. Matthew fell to his knees at Simon’s side.

Simon was lying face-down on the ground, silent and still. Blood seeped out of his mouth and bandages around his feet were stained red. Horribly dark and discolored blotches of skin peeked out from his t-shirt. His left leg lay at a sickening angle. Bruises littered his arms; his nails were cracked and bleeding.

“No, Simon…” Matthew reached out to touch him.

“Matthew, look out!” Gina shouted.

Matthew looked up and saw the vampire charging towards him, pipe raised, moving at an unnaturally fast pace. Matthew had just enough time to duck, and he felt the rush of air and heard a faint whistle as the pipe whizzed over his head. A second later and his brains would have been bashed in. Bowers kept sprinting past him, and shots rang out as Gina tried to hit him before he disappeared back into the stacks of boxes.

“Shit, he’s too fast, I can’t hit him!” she yelled.

Matthew stood, staring at the isle Bowers had disappeared into. He pulled his phone out of his pocket with a shaking hand.

“I need to call an ambulance now or it might not arrive in time - Gina!”

Gina turned in time to see Bowers making a run at her out of the stacks. She stood her ground, aiming and firing as he approached. Her shot landed in his chest, but he was unphased, and swung the pipe as he passed her. With no time left to dodge, Gina was hit squarely in the stomach and knocked to the ground. Her body convulsed as she dry heaved and gasped for the air that had been knocked out of her.

“Gina!” If she was down, Bowers would make his next blow a killing one. Matthew started to sprint over to her, but he heard inhumanly quick footsteps behind him. He started to turn but was hit squarely in the right arm.

“Ahhg!”

Pain erupted as his humerus snapped. His arm spasmed and his gun clattered to the floor. He stumbled and only caught a glimpse of Bowers as he vanished back into the maze of warehouse shelves. Matthew looked around wildly, at Gina, struggling to stand, at Simon, a mangled mess on the floor. He couldn’t protect both of them - he couldn’t protect either of them

Bowers was too fast.

Too powerful.

He was going to kill them.

Breathing hard through the pain, Matthew stuffed his phone back into his pocket and scooped up the gun in his left hand. Amber’s gun.

She wasn’t going to get there in time.

He heard Gina scream - a shriek of true fear, something he’d never heard from her before that poured ice down his spine - and he could only watch as Bowers flitted past her and knocked her from where she had just started to stand up back to the concrete with a horrible clang. She lay frighteningly still, a red gash at her temple. Bowers was already gone.

Matthew raised his weapon and spun around, frantically searching for Bowers. His right arm dangled, useless and excruciating. He heard footsteps, but in the large echoing building he had no way of pinpointing their location. They grew louder, faster, and Matthew pivoted to see Bowers rushing towards him, his eyes full of bloodlust and his knuckles white where they gripped the pipe. Matthew fired haphazardly, the first shot flying over Bowers’ shoulder and the second one hitting home in the center of his chest. Bowers finally stumbled, and instead of hitting Matthew with the pipe the vampire tackled him, pressing the pipe down over his throat. Matthew caught it with the heel of his good hand, still holding the gun, but was only able to resist the downward pressure for a moment before the vampire’s superior strength won out and the pipe pressed down on Matthew’s throat. Bowers held the pipe down with one hand and easily plucked the gun away from Matthew with the other, tossing it aside.

Matthew couldn’t breathe. He wheezed and reached up to claw fruitlessly at Bowers’ face. Bowers only smiled, baring his fangs, and bore down on the pipe harder.

“Not so tough now that you’ve been cured, huh?”

Matthew’s legs kicked uselessly against the floor. Bowers held him pinned there for what felt like an eternity. Matthew felt the air in his blood running out as his raised arm wavered and collapsed and his legs stopped moving. Spots filled his vision.

Suddenly the pressure lifted, and Matthew was able to suck in a stinging lungful of air. The relief lasted less than seconds, though, as the pipe was replaced by fangs. They sank into Matthew’s neck, and his chestful of air rushed out of him in a strangled cry. He was able to breath a little now, and movement returned to his limbs, but he could only wriggle and push at the vampire to no effect as Bowers fed, holding Matthew’s neck still with his teeth and his hands on Matthew’s shoulders.

Matthew had never been bitten before. It was expected to happen eventually in his line of work, but senior agents had always warned him: there’s no way of preparing for it.

There’s no way it won’t stick with you.

It’s slower than you think.

As Bowers leeched his vitality from him, Matthew found he could turn his head, ever so slightly, and look around. First to Gina, still motionless on the floor. Then over to Simon, his head in a pool of blood.

He could only be grateful he was dying among friends.

He began to feel cold, and dizzy. He lifted his hand to look at it: pale white and shaking. He could only hold it up for a second before it slumped to the floor. He refocused, as best as he was able, on Simon, who now looked very far away.

I’m so sorry. He couldn’t tell if he was thinking, or speaking, or just mouthing the words.

It shouldn’t have ended like this.

Not for you.

You deserved better.

I love you.

Bowers lifted away from him, and Matthew felt the blood run down his neck.

He must be done.

I must be dead.

Then he heard a horrible hacking cough. With great effort, Matthew rolled his head to look at Bowers.

The vampire was doubled over, clutching his chest, gagging and sputtering.

“No,” Bowers cried out, “No, no!”

He spasmed, and vomited up blood. He turned and screamed wordlessly at Matthew, spattering red. He heaved in a breath, and his own blood leaked out around his fingers where he pressed them to his chest.

“You poisoned me!” he wailed at Matthew, “Fucking turncoat!”

A smile crept over Matthew’s lips.

The cure.

It was in his blood.

It was turning Bowers human - and humans can’t survive two shots to the chest.

At least Matthew could die knowing the three of them had been avenged.

That Simon had been avenged.

His eyes drifted closed as sirens approached in the distance.

~~~

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper, @pirefyrelight

[acehazbin1]

The Elections 2024

THIS IS A JOKE (I write better then this 😭)

…….

“Melania, this election, vote for me at least.” The orange man tried to reason with the Slavic goddess who wore 6-inch heels that dug into the carpet of the limo. She was looking out the tainted windows seeing all of Trump's fans hold up signs begging him to ‘Fix the country’ She rolled her eyes and muttered, “I dont want to do another year of fucking Christmas decorations, your lucky im even in this car with you.”

They were on their way to a Trump rally. He wanted her at one at the start of his campaign as his followers could show clips if anyone doubted her support, but he was lucky to have her in the limo with him. He was running out of money from the law suites to afford her. He could only offer her 1 million this time to support his campaign, which only included four rallies if he didn't need her for another public appearance. “Melania please, I-I won't ask you to hold my hand at this rally.”

Melania looked over at him making her eyes narrow her hair threw itself over her shoulder. “Still not enough.” Donald thought for a second before pulling up the calculator on his phone after a minute of seeing how much he could spare, “50k now, if I win 70k for the next four years every 3 months,” Melania thought about it for a second and then nodded, “That’s more like it.”

“C-could I still hold your-” “Dont even ask.”

….

Biden was on the way to his rally, at 81, he was getting a bit old for this. Jill was in another car behind them, Biden a few weeks ago decided he needed a little bit of a break from her. He sat there twiddling his thumbs as his phone kept blowing up in his pocket, it was Jill sending Joe texts about how even Trump and Melania were travelling together. “Is she texting you?” A voice came from the woman sitting next to him, she had dark hair which complemented her warm skin.

Biden nodded, with his lips pursed, Jill still didn't know the definition of space no matter how many times Joe had bought her a dictionary for Christmas. “I told you to block her, the white house is big enough to keep you two in separate areas at all times like they did with Trump and Melania. It worked for them.”

“D-don’t, w-we’re not like t-them…” Biden stuttered out, Kamala nodded respectfully but quickly typed on her smartwatch to the ‘Security service 💚💥’ group chat, “What are you doing?” Biden quickly looked over at Harris's watch. He stopped for a second as he realised something, “You have a group chat… without me??”

“Joe it's not how it looks-” “N-No! It's e-exactly how it l-looks!” Joe said as he started to choke on the tears building up, Harris looked at the 81-year-old cry and began to tap his shoulder for comfort. “Come on… you have a rally to do.”

“NO! I DONT WANT TO DO THE RALLY ANYMORE!” Joe's voice shouted as it cracked from the strain, Harris looked horrified but then he conuited. If you have group chats and want to control my life then why dont you just take my place!” Harris stared at him and then smiled as she realised that would make her the 47th President of the United States of America, she could finally do something. “Fine.”

…….

Breaking news! Joe Biden has stepped down!

A billion dings came straight to Donald's phone, he was almost at his rally when he saw the message, “What is it now?” Melania said rolling her eyes but trump’s breath hitched. “B-Biden s-stepped d-down..”

“Oh…”

“OH FUCK.”

Melania swore as Donald's nose began to run, who would insult him instead, have those little debates he loved so much put him down the right way, criticise him and his letter to Kim Jong-un who he just wants to send them to Joe instead, oh how many nights he stood up thinking about those silly little names they called each other How he would beg to be insulted by Joe just want more time but at last he can’t anymore, which made tears stream down his face.

[onlyxxbutmymindisolder]

Make It Three - Sk8 the Infinity fanfic, Part 1/4

It was an ordinary Tuesday night for the three of us. The sky was clear, and we were far enough from the city that you could see the stars no problem - that was one of the nice things about Crazy Rock. Skating in the city was great, but skating out there, with the fresh air and the open sky overhead, couldn’t be beat. I couldn’t even remember when Adam found the place. It had been our nightly hangout spot for months. 

But anyway, as I was saying - it was an ordinary Tuesday night. The three of us on our boards, Adam in front as always, Kaoru a little behind him and me a little behind Kaoru and steadily gaining. I grinned as I pulled up next to him, the wind blowing so hard in my face I had to shout to be heard. “Hey man, did you forget to charge your smartwatch? You haven’t talked to it this whole time!”

I couldn’t hear his sigh, but I could feel it in the roll of his eyes. “I don’t activate Carla every time we race. And relying purely on brute strength to win isn’t a bragging point!” he yelled back.

“Last time I checked, you don’t move your skateboard with your mind.” I replied. 

“It’s not just about moving,” he retorted. “It’s about navigating in the best way. Efficiency, not raw speed, you musclehead.”

“Now, now, boys! Less bickering, please.” Adam’s voice echoed up the path, and both Kaoru and I turned in surprise - in the five seconds we had been arguing, he had tripled the distance between us. He bent backwards to look at us two, holding a pose that could not have been easy to balance in, yet he was grinning like it was no sweat. “Or at least don’t leave me out of your conversations! I’m getting terribly lonely up here by myself.”

He shifted his balance to one foot, and then spun around so he was facing us. His back to the path, he held his arms out to the side in a beckoning gesture. “Catch me if you can~!” He pivoted again, and Kaoru and I watched as he receded into the distance.

Kaoru sighed and tapped his watch. “Carla,” he said, bringing it close to his face, “Give me an estimate of the best angle for the turn ahead. I’m going to cream these two idiots.”

I laughed. “Challenge accepted.”

We zipped ahead, using everything we had - Kaoru his brains, me my brawn, and Adam his… whatever it was. He laughed as he rode along the track, dodging obstacles with such precision and ease he looked like he was dancing.

Five minutes later, we all stood outside the entrance to the mine interior, covered in sweat. Our boards were lined up in a row propped against some rocks so they wouldn’t roll off without us. The results of our race were the same as ever - Adam in first, Kaoru and I fighting over second. We did our standard bickering over who had edged out the other in getting to the finish line, then sat down near our boards and started chatting.

Truth be told, I loved that part almost as much as the actual race.

“She’s not just a smartwatch!” Kaoru insisted, holding a hand over the watch as if to shield it from any insults. “She’s an AI that can plot the best path through any course. I’ve fed her the data from hundreds of practice sessions-”

“And yeah, I get that,” I interrupted, “I just think it’s a little weird that you call it ‘she’.”

“She’s very intelligent! I can hold full conversations with her and everything,” Kaoru huffed. Seeing my face, he switched gears and looked to our other friend for support. “Adam, don’t you get it? Carla’s the ultimate practice tool. She could revolutionize skating!”

Adam shrugged, holding up his hands in a gesture of sympathy. “Kaoru, my friend… passion is passion. I won’t dismiss yours.” Kaoru visibly perked up, though only for a second. “Although…”

“Although what?” Kaoru asked, sulkily.

“Doesn’t that take the fun out of skating?” Adam asked. “If you followed this machine’s advice, it would probably take you down a similar path every time.”

“It would be the fastest path,” Kaoru responded. “The optimal one! I could fine-tune my skating and eventually be able to beat even you!”

Adam smiled mysteriously. “A worthy goal. But as for me… I take great joy in exploring all this place has to offer. Every rock, every curve, every divot in the road - each provides a new experience, infinitely! You never go down the same trail twice.”

“That’s a cool way to look at it,” I said. “I guess I don’t think about the track that much. I just react in the moment and bam-!” I snapped my fingers. “My body and board will take me where I need to go.”

Kaoru rolled his eyes. “Brute instincts,” he grumbled.

“Hey. They work about as well as your smartwatch.”

“Wha- They do not!”

“Then how’d I beat you just now?”

“You didn’t! I obviously crossed the line first.”

“You keep telling yourself that, dude, but we both know…”

Hearing laughter, I glanced over at Adam. He was watching us go back and forth with a fondly amused look. “Truly,” he said, “Nights with you two are never boring.” His last word slurred into the beginning of a yawn. That was right - Adam rarely stayed out this late. His family was pretty strict and he couldn’t be caught sneaking out, so he usually went home before the AM. It was nice having him with us for longer, though. I hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble with his folks.

“Anyway,” said Kaoru. “Adam. Weren’t you planning to host S again soon? What’s your schedule look like?”

Adam frowned, which didn’t seem like a good omen. “I’m working on it,” he grumbled. “Some people aren’t being terribly cooperative.”

By ‘some people’, I assumed he meant the staff member he’d roped into helping him sneak out every night. We all owed a lot to that guy, though Kaoru and I had only met him once. He was in charge of the arrangements for the skating competition we’d started a while back, and also technically responsible for coining the name ‘S’ (I think he just didn’t want to risk Adam being overheard talking about skateboarding, which was a ‘hoodlum activity’ according to his dad).

“No rush,” I said. “We don’t need a million other people here to have a good time, right?”

“I guess not,” Kaoru said, shrugging. “I was just curious.”

“I want it to happen,” Adam blurted. “Last time, we drew dozens of people like us. This next time, I want it to be even bigger - a hundred, no, hundreds of competitors. Imagine if we could bring together every skateboarder in Okinawa!” He sighed. “All those who love skateboarding, together in one place… it would be paradise.”

“I dunno,” I said. “Would they all fit here?”

Kaoru lightly whacked my shoulder. “We’re outdoors, idiot. I’m sure we could find a spot for everyone.” He looked the other way. “Is that what you want, Adam? More people? I thought our group of twelve or so provided decent competition.”

“But I want more,” Adam said bluntly. “I want to see what this country has to offer! You two can’t be the only good skaters in Japan.” 

He paused, and took a slow, deep breath. The look in his eyes was far away. “You two are the only ones so far who can keep up with me. On this racetrack, in this world we three share, cut off from everything frivolous and crude… I am myself. And you don’t know what that means to me,” he whispered. “It makes me want more. More of these treasured moments - I want to spend eternity on that board.” He glanced back at our decks propped on the rocks. “I just need a reason. One push, and I’d throw it all away.”

I didn’t respond. He was smiling, but distant - talking to himself more than us. The silence held, and he stayed there for a minute, lost in thought, before (reluctantly, I think) pulling himself back to reality.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” he said, with a soft chuckle. “My apologies. S first - I’ll let you two know when Tadashi figures something out. Until then-” he stood up, “-I should be heading back.”

It was a jarring transition, but hey. Adam had always had a tendency to get lost in his head, so we were used to it. “See you next week?” I asked.

He grinned back at me. “Absolutely. Don’t be late.”

---

With that, Adam was gone for the week. We never saw each other in person outside of our late-night races, and his parents monitored both their home phone and his personal cell phone (which he wouldn’t be able to use anyway, given that his entire day was nothing but private tutoring and family-approved extracurriculars). Yeah, it was weird. But Adam lived in a different world from Kaoru and I - being the son of Mr. Shindo, a famous senator, would do that. Image was everything in that life, and given Adam’s less-than-tame personality, his dad kept him on a tight leash. The family heir couldn’t be caught mixing with the common rabble.

So you might understand why I was surprised to hear from him that Friday in the middle of the day.

“Did you get a note, too?” Kaoru asked as we walked past the school gates.

“Sure did,” I said, holding up the crisp, lightly perfumed(?) paper. “Have to wonder how he got it into our lockers, though.”

Kaoru shrugged. “You know Adam - where there’s a will, there’s a way. I’m curious as to what’s so urgent he felt the need to contact us like this, though.”

“So you’re coming?”

He huffed. “Obviously.”

I gestured to his empty hands. “And you’re not bringing your board?” I kept mine with me at all times. Right then, it was strapped to my backpack, doing the double duty of (1) acting as a weight for building endurance and (2) looking seriously cool (I loved that board).

“The note didn’t say we were meeting up to skate,” Kaoru responded, although he looked unsure. “Adam can barely get a free minute during the day. How would he race us?”

“How did he get the note to us? How long is he planning to talk?” I thought about it. “Actually, he might not be there at all. Maybe he sent one of his staff.”

“Oh.” Kaoru tweaked one long strand of hair that was resting on his jacket, pushing it back. “I guess not.”

He was quiet for a moment. I looked at his perfect poker face, watching as it changed from neutrality to annoyance as I nudged him, grinning. “Are you still coming-”

“Yes. Why would that change anything?”

“Well, you looked pretty excited earlier up until…” I shrugged. 

“I did not.”

“What, so you didn’t want to see him?”

“I didn’t say - wait, I -” He sputtered, flailed for a response, then stormed ahead of me, muttering “Stupid.” The tips of his ears were as pink as his hair.

I let him get ahead of me. I’d probably get kicked later once he calmed down, but for now, all that mattered was that he was too indignant to be disappointed. Better a pissed Kaoru than a mopey Kaoru.

Eventually he slowed down enough for me to catch up to him, and we walked to the underpass in silence. Once we got there, my suspicions were proved correct - Adam was nowhere in sight. A dark-haired guy about our age was leaning against the concrete wall, fiddling with his too-fancy casual clothes and looking like he’d rather throw himself into the pier than spend another second there.

I waved at him and called out. “Hey there! Uh.. we’re friends of Adam?”

He tensed. “Not so loud,” he murmured. He pushed off the wall and met us halfway, glancing around like he expected to see someone watching us from the bushes. 

“I know who you are. Adam wanted me to relay a message to you two. He…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “I have a favor to ask you first. You two are the ones closest to him, so…”

I squinted at him. “Wait a second. Aren’t you-” I thought for a second, then snapped my fingers, “-Tadashi, right!”

“You’re the one who organizes S,” Kaoru said, recognition dawning on him.

“We never got to thank you for last time,” I said. “It was amazing. I didn’t think so many people would show up.”

Tadashi grimaced. “Yes. That’s the problem.”

“What is?” Kaoru asked.

“S.”

“Is that what Adam wanted to tell us about?” I asked.

Tadashi sighed. “Please, listen. Of all the skaters in Okinawa, you are the only people Adam has trusted with his secret - his true identity. So you should have some idea of how precarious this situation is. If Adam’s father found out he was sneaking out, the consequences would be…”

“Bad, yeah. He told us he was being careful,” I said.

“Not careful enough,” Tadashi deadpanned. “He leaves too early and stays out too late. His grades have begun to slip, among other things. I can only cover for him so much, and if anybody catches on-” He wrung his hands. “It can’t happen.”

Watching him like that, I felt a lurking sense of unease. I knew Adam’s family was strict, and they would be pissed if they knew what he got up to at night. But the way Tadashi talked about it… it seemed like there was something else going on. Adam never talked much about his life. Kaoru and I knew basically nothing about what went on with his family.

“Do we need to delay our visits, then?” Kaoru asked. “Give him some time to lay low?”

“That was what I was hoping for,” Tadashi replied. “I’ve tried everything to convince him to stop sneaking out for a month, or even just a few weeks, but he doesn’t listen to me. I thought you could talk to him. He trusts you.”

“We can do that,” I said, seeing Kaoru was on board. “When are we gonna see him next? Tuesday as usual, or later, or…?”

“Saturday, if you can make it. The usual time and meeting place.”

I blinked. “Why so soon?”

“He’s found another competitor for S. He wants you two to help vet him.”

“He told someone else about S?” Kaoru asked, surprised. Previously, the three of us had decided together who to invite. 

“I don’t think so. As far as the other skater knows, he’s just being invited to a friendly race. If he proves decently skilled, Adam will invite him to compete.”

“O-kay then,” I said. “If he’s that set on it, then I guess we’ll go along and race the guy. Kaoru, you got any plans tomorrow night?”

“...No,” said Kaoru, looking like he’d bitten a lemon.

“Then we’ll meet him there and talk about the whole ‘not drawing suspicion’ thing. Who knows,” I added, “Maybe this extra race will help get something out of his system.”

“That’s true. He might be more agreeable if he’s in a good mood,” Kaoru replied. “Although, knowing Adam…”

“We’ll try,” I said, nodding to Tadashi. “And again, thanks for everything you’ve done. S wouldn’t exist without you.”

Tadashi didn’t meet my eyes, and barely acknowledged my thanks. “Yes, well.” He shifted nervously. “Adam will see you this weekend. I hope you enjoy your race.” With that, he turned and started walking away. He paused at the corner to glance back and, I dunno, see if we were following him? Then he disappeared from view.

“That was weird,” I said. Kaoru didn’t respond, still staring over the spot where Tadashi had been. I sighed. Between him and Adam… it was a good thing this friend group had one person who didn’t get stuck in their own head.

“C’mon.” I nudged his arm. “It’s getting late. We should go if we don’t want to miss our buses.”

That was an excuse. If we did, I’d just skate back anyway.